#WHATEVER WHATEVER THOSE ARE PROBLEMS FOR ANOTHER DAY

[marvelrivalsimagines]

Relationship Headcannons

Characters: Iron Fist, Luna Snow, Squirrel Girl

Prompt: One requester asked for Iron Fist and Squirrel Girl general relationship HCs and another asked for Luna Snow relationship HCs, so I put all three character headcannons into one post :)

Author’s note: When it comes to relationships HCs there’s so many things you can talk about! I know I didn’t cover every aspect of these relationships in the HCs but I also didn’t want this to get annoyingly long lol. I hope everyone enjoys this, especially the requesters!

Warnings: Brief mentions of chronic pain in Iron Fist’s section

While Lin has an outwardly laid-back attitude it would be a mistake to assume that this means he takes everything in his life casually. When Lin commits to something he dedicates his entire body and spirit to it and this includes your relationship. Any challenges your relationship might face, whether it’s an argument between the two of you or the time stream entanglement itself, Lin is ready to do whatever it takes to keep you in his life. 

Aside from his dedication to fighting for your relationship Lin is also dedicated to fighting for you. While there’s a lot to adjust to in his new role as the Iron Fist helping people and standing up for others is something Lin has always believed in. With him around you have the most supportive cheerleader who’s there for you in moments where you may be struggling. Whether you need someone to just listen to you vent for a moment or you’d like him to step into a situation to help you out Lin is more than willing to help. Real “they said no pickles on their burger” energy. 

When it comes to PDA Lin is comfortable with almost anything. While other people might shy away from PDA due to embarrassment, Lin is just too caught up with you to ever turn down a kiss or a hug in public. While he might get a bit red in the face if you really go over the top with your affections, Lin appreciates every moment of your attention that he gets. 

Lin’s main love language is physical touch. As mentioned before, Lin has no problem with PDA so when the two of you are alone you both can really indulge in each other's touch. It’s just something that comes so naturally to him; placing a hand around your waist as you both stand in the kitchen or wrapping the both of you up in the same blanket before starting up a movie. 

Lin was living a normal life before becoming the Sword Master and then Iron Fist. While he is up to these new challenges life has suddenly thrown at him, it can sometimes be a lot to take in and can cause Lin to be overwhelmed or stuck in his own head for a bit. So aside from the affection he gets from your physical touch, it can also be extremely grounding for him to be hugged or held by you. It pulls him out of his worries and back into the present with you. 

Lin also deals with chronic pain from the fragments of his sword that are embedded in his hands. He’s come up with his own routines to try to alleviate that pain, and methods of coping with the pain when it is particularly bad. It may take some time for Lin to feel comfortable with being vulnerable enough to show you just how much this affects him. But, if you offer to help him whenever you notice he’s experiencing more pain than usual, and especially if you take the time to learn how he manages his pain and help him in those routines, Lin swears he’s never felt more seen or loved. 

While it’s impossible to completely alleviate his pain, for Lin it’s more about knowing that someone truly cares for him, and that while he puts his body on the line to save others you’re thinking about how to help him. The fact that you’re willing to put aside this time in your day and put all of your focus into this moment just to try to temporarily help with some of his pain makes his love for you grow even stronger. 

When it comes to date night and spending time together Lin has a preference for more relaxed activities and places. As the protector of K’un-Lun he spends his day, figuratively and literally, running around the city and fighting crime. For as much energy as Lin has, even he comes home tired most days after his duties as Iron Fist are finished. And there’s nothing better for sore muscles than cuddling with you on the couch and putting on some cheesy comfort movie. 

After an especially rough or tiresome day Lin would, figuratively, cry tears of happiness if he came home to a home cooked meal made by you. It doesn’t have to be anything complex or worthy of a michelin star, just knowing that you were thinking of him like this while he was gone touches his heart. As a hero spends his days protecting others, it means a lot to be cared for in return. 

In terms of a date night out, I can see Lin being the kind of person who’s more adventurous with his food tastes. He’d enjoy going to a restaurant with you that’s advertising some new food that’s either really spicy, is a type of food you don’t get often where you live, or has some unusual ingredients. He’s going to be joking around the entire time hyping up his excitement to try this new food. And when it finally gets to the table he’s going to play up his reaction to try and make you laugh. 

Lowkey I also think that Lin is the kind of person who eats his food really fast. Like you go out to dinner with him and while you’re just three bites into your food he’s already done. Then he’s looking at your side of fries like “Are you gonna finish that? 😳”

Having his significant other also be a hero would be fun and exciting, but it also might cause some worries for Lin. Lin would really enjoy training with you, learning about your skills and powers, and potentially thinking of ways he can learn from you by incorporating some of your tips into his own fighting style. He would also really enjoy being able to open up to you about some of the struggles of being a hero, like the pressure you put on yourself or how to cope when things don’t always go right. He’d really appreciate that his partner can truly understand these struggles. I can also definitely see Lin starting a relationship with someone he first met as a hero, probably a hero he’s looked up to simped for for some time. 

But at the same time, Lin has some insecurities about his title as the Iron Fist. Lin knows he’s earned this title and that he's just as much of an Iron Fist as those who have come before him, but there are still so many heroes who question him and compare him to Danny Rand (cough cough that Moon Knight voice line). This causes some worries to creep in; did you ever interact with Danny as a hero? Do you ever think about how Lin compares to the previous Iron Fists? 

If you’re fighting alongside each other in a fight, Lin is of course concerned for you but trusts you to be careful. His fighting style is highly mobile so he takes a ‘best defense is a good offense’ approach with the goal of taking out enemies before they become a problem for you. And even with that, he would still do his best to check in on you during the fight to make sure you’re doing okay. 

As much as Lin hates to see you hurt in any way, it’s comforting for him to get to patch up any cuts or bruises post fight. He cringes at the sight of your injuries, but the physical contact really assures him that you’re still alive and well.

Dating Luna Snow, or as you get to know her, Seol Hee, is surprisingly chill. No pun intended While it might be easy to think that the life of a K-Pop superstar would be all mansions and fast cars, it’s important to Hee that she never loses touch with the people around her. After all, the entire reason she wants to be both an artist and a hero is to help people. So when she comes back home to you from a sold out show, all she really wants to do at the end of the day is enjoy some time as a ‘normal person’. 

That’s not to say that there aren't certain benefits to dating a world famous super star, if you want to embrace that. As much as Hee enjoys the stage and the limelight she’s also experienced some of its drawbacks such as drama obsessed reporters and the ruthlessness of public opinion online. Going public about your relationship together would potentially pull you into all of that and Hee would never force you into that kind of life if it wasn’t something you were ready for. 

Whether you choose to embrace the attention or would like to keep the relationship private, Hee supports the decision and respects you no matter what. Either way, you’re getting a love song written about you. The only difference is if the rest of the world knows that the famous Luna Snow only has you in mind as she sings the lyrics. 

Levels of PDA would also depend on if your relationship is public, since kissing the pop star out in public would expose your relationship pretty quickly if you’re trying to keep things private. But even if your relationship is known to the public, Hee is pretty reserved when it comes to PDA. She’s comfortable with hand holding or a quick kiss to the cheek, but anything beyond that she’d like to keep in private. 

It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy your touch, she just enjoys keeping the physical intimacy between the two of you completely private. She would rather enjoy your touch at home where neither of you have to worry about how others may be watching or perceiving you and you can both be carefree about your love. 

Hee’s main love language is quality time. As both an international superstar and a super hero her schedule is filled to the brim. She rarely gets time to herself and sometimes when she does get a break from her pop stardom, she can be suddenly called into action as a superhero for an emergency. Hee has really learned the value of time, and her free time is especially precious to her. So it’s really a testament to how much she loves you when she chooses to spend that free time with you!

For as long as Hee has to wait to see you sometimes, she’s surprisingly open to do anything with you. For her, as long as she gets to be by your side it is definitely time well spent. Even if you just want to relax at home and do separate things, Hee is happy as long as she gets to enjoy your presence next to her. 

Again, with her down to earth nature, even the small, mundane things are special to Hee. Washing the dishes becomes a cherished memory as the two of you work together, teasing each other as Hee playfully splashes water on you or carefully places some of the bubbly soap suds on the tip of your nose. It’s your turn to tease Hee as the radio you turned on for some background noise starts to play one of her own hits, and you’re treated to a silly and lighthearted lip sync performance by the artist herself. 

Aside from the domestic nights at home, Hee does really enjoy the date nights the two of you plan where you both leave the home. She has a preference for beautiful, intimate date spots like dinner in a private booth at a restaurant or an evening of clothing shopping at local boutiques. 

Restaurants are one of the few places where Hee will flaunt her wealth a bit. What good is all the pop star money if she can’t use it to spoil you a bit? She ensures that both of you get to enjoy a private and gorgeous setting so you can simply focus on eachother, and maybe the picturesque skyline in front of you. She also might not say it out loud but Hee loves taking any excuse to see you dressed up in tailored formal wear. 

Speaking of, if the two of you go on a shopping date Hee absolutely loves taking you into the dressing room and making you try on endless outfits she’s picked out for you as you both have been walking through the store. As a pop star her sense of fashion is fine tuned to perfection, no matter what your personal style may be. Even if you have sensory issues with clothing, she tracks down the perfect piece that both accommodates your needs and compliments your figure. 

During the course of all of these dates Hee takes so many pictures of you so she can keep reminders of you while you may be away from each other. Her favorite photos of you are the candid ones where you look the most like yourself, though she also likes to occasionally ask others to take posed photos of the two of you together. She especially likes to do a lot of these ‘photo shoots’ right before she knows she’ll be especially far away, like if she is going to perform a concert in another country or if she knows her super hero duties will keep her away for an extended time. 

If you are also a superhero Hee is determined to make everyone realize what a power couple you two are. Hee works as both a pop star and a superhero because she wants to instill hope in people, so that people have something to keep them going in dark times. She would love to work alongside her partner to show the world that with both the strength of your powers and the strength of your relationship the two of you can conquer any threat and protect the hope that keeps humanity going. 

Hee would especially get a kick out of your superhero dynamic if you are the masked, quiet, and mysterious type of hero. Despite knowing the real you and that you’re much more complex than those three adjectives, the slightly mischievous side of Hee can’t help but play up the dynamic of the bubbly pop star and the brooding hero that others have placed you two into. The fans just love it!

If the two of you are fighting side by side, Hee is of course worried for your safety but she also has a lot of confidence in both of your skills. I mean, this is the woman who sassed Namor to his face while they were both standing right next to the ocean. She’s very confident in her own skills, and she knows that you’re great at your job as well. 

You’ve most likely fought side by side multiple times together, so it’s natural for the two of you to try and stick together during the fight. But if the two of you get separated for whatever reason, Hee makes sure to keep her eye on you in case you need any sort of help or healing. In a situation where multiple people on her team need healing, you’ll always get it first and she doesn’t really hide her bias. 

Doreen approaches your relationship like she does with everything in her life - with lots of excitement and optimism. With her there’s never going to be a time where you’ll doubt if this relationship is something Doreen truly wants. Even when she comes home from a long day of beating up super villains she still finds the energy to dedicate to you and your relationship.  

The relationship also tends to center around enjoying the now. Doreen is always in the moment, finding interest and excitement in what’s happening around her that day. With her optimistic outlook she doesn’t spend much time thinking about what might happen in the future. While it’s great to be with someone who reminds you to enjoy every day it also might be up to you to bring up important long-term topics, like if you two want to move in together. She’s not avoiding commitment or trying to duck out of tough conversations, she just finds it hard to worry about what you guys might be doing tomorrow when she has you in her arms right now!

Doreen is perfectly comfortable with PDA and if you’re comfortable with physical contact in public then Doreen will be initiating it a lot. She wouldn’t do anything crazy like make out with you in public though. Doreen enjoys the sweet honeymoon phase types of physical contact with you out in public, like resting her head on your shoulder or placing an arm around you while talking to other people. She especially loves to hold your hand out in public; on the crowded streets of New York City she’s gotta make sure you’re always right by her (and tippy’s) side! 

Doreen would also be the kind of person who enjoys giving you a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek or lips if you’re both enjoying some down time in public, like if you’re at a restaurant or just standing and waiting at a crosswalk together. But if you give her a kiss in public, you’ll get to see a flustered and blushing Doreen. No matter how long you two have been together, a quick, unexpected kiss in public has the power to completely derail her train of thought which is quite a feat. 

Doreen’s main way of showing love would be through her words. She loves to talk and that translates to a near infinite amount of compliments. Doreen’s compliments may not be poetry, but you can always tell that her words are genuine and come straight from her heart. Her lack of a filter can be a problem sometimes but when it comes to her sweet words for you it’s cute. 

Aside from getting lots of compliments you’ll also get every thought that comes to her brain. You’ll be doing some activity that doesn’t require 100% of your attention, like cleaning your room or cooking some dinner for the two of you, and Doreen will spend the entire time talking to you about the most random things. From what she spent her day doing, any hero activities she got up to, and the drama amongst the local wild squirrels; you’ll suddenly be an expert in it all with how much detail Doreen goes into while she’s talking to you.

And Doreen isn’t 100% aware that she does this. She’s not purposefully trying to distract you from what you’re doing or talk over you. If you have anything to add onto her stories she’ll be more than happy to hear your comments and jokes. In fact, knowing that you’re paying attention to what she’s saying and showing that you care about her thoughts just makes her fall even more in love with you

But back to why she talks so much. It’s just that Doreen loves you so much and she feels so comfortable around you that she can finally let all those hyperactive thoughts stored up in her brain out! She loves you, feels comfortable with you, and has a lot of thoughts about a lot of things so of course she’s just gotta let it all out around you. 

Doreen admittedly might struggle a bit if you sometimes need some silence, like if you’re overstimulated from the day or have a migraine. But she’s genuinely trying her best and is sincerely sorry if she’s too loud. As long as you communicate to her that you need some quiet Doreen will try to keep herself busy by either helping you out with whatever might be causing your need for silence or just doing her own thing until you’re ready to hear about what totally weird thing Tippy found in Central Park 

Because of Doreen’s seemingly endless energy she has a preference for dates where you two get to actively do something together, like maybe a trivia night at a restaurant/bar where she gets to show off her smarts or a quirky local business like an axe throwing place. 

There are lots of weird, interesting spots in New York and as a superhero who keeps her eyes peeled at all times Doreen knows about a lot of these places. So when it comes to date night Doreen is always full of suggestions. It’s honestly kind of impressive how she can almost always come up with some new place or activity that you two haven't done together yet. 

Out of all the places you two frequent together Doreen’s favorite recurring date spot is Central Park. There’s nothing Doreen loves more than to pack a homemade lunch with you and walk over to the massive and beautiful park to enjoy each other’s company and some nice weather. Some warm sunshine, squirrels chasing each other through the trees, and the comforting feeling of you resting up against her. What more could she ask for? 

That’s not to say that Doreen wouldn’t enjoy a quiet night in as well though. Squirrels get tired too, and sometimes a movie on the couch with some takeout is just what you need after a long day of beating up bad guys. 

If you’re a hero like Doreen she sees this as an opportunity to spend even more time together. She would love to go out on patrol together with you and it would honestly be a lot like hanging out with Doreen regularly. Her cheerful attitude really helps keep things light when you're fighting the insane villains of New York. 

If you’re in a major fight side by side, Doreen won’t baby you or try to tell you what to do but she’ll be trying her best to stick by your side. Just in case something starts to go wrong she wants to be by your side to make sure the two of you make it out okay. Doreen wouldn’t be able to forgive herself  if something happens to you while she could have intervened. 

Reassuring Doreen that you won’t be reckless and that you’ll always be looking out for each other will make her feel a lot better. While neither of you can guarantee the outcome, she just wants to know that no matter what happens during the fight you promise to come back home with her and Tippy.

[dexteri0us]

now i’m breathin' like i’m runnin' 'cause you're taking me there; don’t you know you spin me out of control?

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: reader is a freak, mentions of corpses, smut - dom!dexter (but he's soft<3), sir kink, oral (f and m receiving), some slapping, some pussy slapping, bondage, knife play, brush play, wartenberg wheel (all sterilized of course).

summary: you, being an annoying girlfriend, and dexter, being an incredible boyfriend. (be careful though, he might as well just off you one day if you keep asking for it).

w/c: around 7,280

a/n: no pun intended. if i forgot any warnings, let me know, my brain is kinda fried

Dexter hadn’t exactly told you that he was a killer. A murderer, a criminal, or whatever label fit his particular shade of darkness. But he also never denied it when your insinuations crept too close to the truth. He knew that you knew, and that was enough for you. Knowing that he was okay with that was enough for you. Well, until recently.

He’d given you a blurry picture of what he did to his victims. Not because he offered it, but you had a knack for prodding, especially when you sensed he was buttered up just enough. You knew a crime scene or a sample of blood brought a smile to his face, but you didn’t exactly have that kind of power to bring those things to him. You found your own ways to make Dexter smile. Leaving a post-it note on his coffee machine that read “Kill the day”. Buying him a new shirt for work or a romantic dinner. Making him a playlist for his late-night boat rides. Or you’d plan a quiet night with nature docs to stimulate his intellect.

And if you were feeling bold, you’d cook. Well, try to cook. Homemade pizza was your speciality. Your best and only. Dexter never complained, though, always giving you a small, approving nod as he chewed slowly.

Still, he didn’t give you the exact answers either. He might roll his eyes, sigh heavily, or offer a cryptic one-word response, but you could always tell when you’d hit the nail on the head.

“Do you have a special place where you do it? Like a basement or something?”

Roll of his eyes. No.

“Do you ever regret it? Like, afterward?”

No.

“Do you stalk them?”

Side eye. Yes.

“Do you talk to them first? Like, try to scare them or mess with their heads:”

...Yes?

You played this game as if it was the most normal thing in the world, without batting an eye. It was fun for you until you headed in an unpleasant direction of the questions.

“Does it get messy? What do you use to clean up? What about their clothes? Do you get them naked before getting rid of the body?”

Yes.

Oh. “…Before killing them?”

Yes.

The wheels in your head began to turn, your thoughts spiraling into uncharted territory. “Even the women?”

Yes.

Huh. Suddenly, the game wasn’t so fun anymore. You didn’t know how you felt about that. You pictured the men and women you didn’t know, beautiful, vulnerable, dead. It was stupid to feel jealous of corpses, but you couldn’t help it. It clawed at you.

For a while, you stopped asking questions. Not because you didn’t want to know, but because you were too distracted by the answers you’d already gotten. And maybe you were afraid of what else you’d uncover.

If you were jealous of them before, now that jealousy skyrocketed into different dimensions.

You were in the middle of baking banana bread, working the batter longer than necessary. It was your fourth loaf this week, and you’d already had to give a few away to Deb and Joey, because you weren’t capable of eating all of it.

You were happy that Deb and Joey appreciated it because Dexter didn’t even like banana bread that much. He ate it because you made it. Which was sweet. But still, he seemed to enjoy talking to naked strangers more than eating your baked goods.

What the fuck is his problem?

“Another banana bread?” Dexter’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You know, it’s gonna lose its sweetness if you keep mixing all the frustration into it.”

Normally, you’d snort at the deadpan delivery of his stupid joke, but now was really not the time to remind you of the mood you were trying to suppress.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked is all seriousness now, coming over to you and leaning one hip against the counter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your focus on the batter. “Okay, you’re not. What can I do?” he asked, waiting patiently for you to open up.

“Nothing.”

He stood there and you felt his eyes on you, probably trying to read you. You still didn’t acknowledge him, but his presence pressed against you and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. He knew better than to push; it would only make you more frustrated, but he wasn’t one to just walk away either. Besides, he knew you’d crack eventually. And you did, dropping the spatula into the bowl and turning to face him.

“Why don’t you like my banana bread?”

He squinted his eyes, trying to decide if you were joking or not.

“I like your banana bread. Just… an appropriate amount. Not five loaves in a week.”

“Four,” you corrected.

“Five,” he countered, not missing a beat. “You made two yesterday, one on Monday and one on Wednesday.”

Shit, he was right. But could he blame you? He was driving you nuts. Well, you were driving yourself nuts, but it was because of him!

“Hey, I know my brain is limited, but is that really what’s bothering you? Will you help me out, or should I try to piece it together on my own?” he said softly.

He always did that, giving you space but never giving up on saving you from the sea of worrisome thoughts, never ignoring your closed off behavior. He’d always told you that you were like a puzzle to him. And he claimed he liked puzzles.

But you didn’t want to be a puzzle this time. You knew keeping him guessing wouldn't be healthy, so you spilled it out. You told him about your stupid insecurity and the stupid jealousy, the anger and frustration that boiled over when he told you about how he stripped his victims naked. And he couldn’t have had a more baffled expression on his face

For the first time, he told you a little bit about his hobby without you having to pull it from him. He reassured you that there was no sexual motivation behind it whatsoever. None. That the people he killed were disgusting and vile human beings who didn’t deserve even the faintest semblance of intimacy. Well, not that kind of intimacy. They deserved nothing but to die.

“I promise,” he said as he brushed his thumb over your cheek, “the only body I admire is yours. It’s an unhealthy obsession, really. Unhealthier than the other one.”

And with that, he finally made you laugh and roll your eyes at him. You gave him a playful shove, making him smile as you turned back to your batter. He moved closer one more time, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. As he stepped back, he gave your triceps a playful pinch, leaving you to your baking.

You didn’t have a reason not to trust him. Even though he held onto a big secret, he never outright lied. He just never told you the whole truth, and you respected that. He’d told you it was better this way, something about plausible deniability. And yes, you made it a little hard for him, but what can you say, you were nosy.

Later that night, he went out of his way to worship your body, to prove that you were truly his number one obsession. He looked you in the eye as he fucked you, making you see how you made him feel and showing you every ounce of devotion he had for you. When he put his tongue on you, he didn’t stop eating your pussy until you had to push him away.

Afterward, you lay on your stomach while Dexter rested beside you, propped on one elbow, his other hand tracing invisible shapes on your back.

He let you guess what he drew or wrote with his fingers, and you both giggled when you guessed something ridiculous when he drew something completely simple. It was your favorite kind of peace, lying in his arms, your warm skin against his. You almost couldn’t believe that these same arms were capable of something else.

It wouldn’t be you if you weren’t greedy, though. And sometimes, when your mood was just right, that greed turned you into a bit of a brat.

You were on your way from the farmer’s market, the basket of fresh carrots and strawberries balanced on your lap as Dexter focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel.

You were just telling him how you wanted to have a garden of your own one day, grow your own fruits and veggies, maybe even have a little flock of chickens.

“Can you imagine? You’d have fresh eggs for breakfast every morning, and I could make you a fruit salad to take to work.”

He glanced over, just briefly, before fixing his eyes back on the road. “You’d want me to share that with you?”

You felt a small tug of your heart. It made you reach out to gently tug the short hair behind his ear. He liked that. He’d said it was soothing when you played with his hair, especially around the ears, and you made a mental note to do more of it later tonight.

“Dex, you’re stuck with me. You’ll need to kill me to get rid of me,” you joked and he shot you a look, but you giggled at your own quip.  

Truthfully, it broke your heart sometimes, the way he thought so little of himself. Sure, he was confident, sometimes even a little too sure of his skills, and it could momentarily turn him into a smug asshole. But you worried that he’d never feel how loved he actually was. How many people cared about him.

Before you could spiral too far into those thoughts, his phone buzzed. He was being called to a scene, and he initially wanted to drop you off at home, but you convinced him there was no point. It was literally on the way, and you could just wait in the car.

“Alright,” he said as he gathered his things, “half an hour, tops.” You nodded and he stepped out of the car.

You watched him work from the car, though you could barely make him out through the crowd of people that gathered at the scene. Still, you admired how focused and precise he was, the way he was handling the camera and the lifeless body.

It was impossible not to think about how those same hands had touched you, traced every curve and dip of your skin. Fuck, you were sick. He was professionally documenting death for Christ's sake.

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere, wondering if he handled them with the same care. So, once you were back on the road, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You know, I thought of a way you could prove your ‘obsession’ with my body.”

He paused, glancing at you with furrowed brow, confused. “I thought we were past that.”

“Well, you know, it does something to a girl, knowing her boyfriend’s hobby involves working with naked bodies.”

“I can’t believe that that’s what bothers you about this whole situation.”

You shrugged, letting the silence hang for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you have in mind?”

“I want to experience it.”

“'It'. Try to be a little more specific.”

“You know… the setup. Like, a roleplay kinda thing. You’ll be you, and I’ll be your victim. Or like a 'draw me like one of your french girls' kinda situation."

You honestly thought that it was a good idea, but you just proved to him how much little you understood about the whole serial killer thing, which he let you know quite candidly.

Don’t get me wrong, he adored you, but he didn’t have a problem with calling you out on your stupidity and reminding you how close you sometimes got to crossing lines you didn’t fully understand. That’s what made your relationship great.

“First of all, why would you think they are French?" he asked, confused by the movie reference, but you jusrt rolled your eyes. "And second of all, I actually wonder whether it’s you or me who’s sick in the head here,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he went on to tell you that it wasn't a fucking game that you played. He is a serial killer. “I actually like your body intact.”

“But you wouldn’t actually –”

“No.”

“Come on, wouldn’t you like to see me all tied up, immobilized, completely at your mercy?”

His jaw tightened just slightly before he answered. Oh?

“No. End of discussion.”

“Fine,” you groaned with a sigh, sinking back into your seat like a scolded child, your fingers idly tracing the ridges of the basket in your lap.

You wanted to be petty about it but instead, you decided to be on your best behavior. The reason? You’d definitely gotten into his head. You didn’t know if he’d started fantasizing about you like that, or if he was coming to the realization that you might actually need a psychiatric evaluation. You hoped it was the former, so when you caught him lost in thought, his gaze lingering on you as if he were in a trance, you resisted the urge to poke the bear, only sending a sweet smile his way.

The sex had gotten more… intense. Also more frequent, and you had a theory that it correlated with his early returns from his hunts. He never seemed to be satisfied, always came home frustrated with himself and he took it out on you. He’d take you against the nearest surface he could find; the couch, the kitchen counter, even the floor. You thought there wasn’t a single surface in his apartment that wasn’t defiled.

Once, when he’d gotten home before you, he threatened to take you outside in the external corridor where his neighbors could see and hear everything. Well, you wouldn’t mind, but he was a flying-under-the-radar kind of guy.

Either way, you’d struck a chord. And while you still hadn’t gotten exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed the way he’d been lately.

You just got out of shower, slipped into your pajamas and plopped onto the couch, turning on some white noise on your phone as you pulled out some notes for your upcoming exam. No, you weren’t capable of studying after you changed into your sleeping attire, but it was better than doing nothing.

Your eyes skimmed mindlessly across the words when you heard the door unlock, revealing Dexter in his khaki henley and cargos. You greeted him with a smile, sending him into kitchen where his take-out was, before turning your head back to your notes.

You didn’t register him moving closer to you, until you felt the nylon of a cuff around your wrist.

“What the fuck?” you murmured and looked at your wrist. It wasn’t your first time he used bondage on you, of course, but this was weird. You tugged instinctively at the chain, but his firm grip on the other buckle didn’t allow you much movement. “Dex, I don’t have time for this now.”

“My victims don’t really get to pick when their time is up.”

You looked at him, the confusion apparent on your face, but then when you locked eyes with him, it started to gradually dawn on you. Your eyes flicked from his face, to his clothes, to the chain around your wrist.

Was this what you thought it was? You didn’t want to celebrate too early.

And just like that, Dexter gave a sharp tug on the chain, pulling you to your feet.

“The first thing that usually happens,” he began, leading you to the bedroom, “is the weight of their tranquilized bodies pulls them to the ground.”

Before you could react, he slammed the door shut behind you and in one swift motion, your back hit the hard wood. Your other wrist was caught and cuffed too, the chain between them yanked taut as he raised your arms above your head, hooking the chain on the hook mounted on the door, leaving you stertched out.

It was too high and the position forced you onto your tiptoes, your whole body arching and making your ass press firmly against the door.

Dexter grabbed your jaw and kissed you aggressively, your teeth clanking against each other and your tongues tangling together, making your mixed saliva drip down your chin.

He looked at you with that signature intensity, eyes hooded and plush lips parted slightly. His hot breath fanned across your chin as he spread the spit over your cheek and jawline, massaging it into your skin.

You admired the way his hair curled at his forehead and around his ears, it gave him this innocent vibe that put him into contrast with those strong features of his face.

Then he kissed you again, this time more softly, snaking his arm into the space between the door and your arched back, pressing himself against you and making you feel the hardness in his cargo pants. His hand slid lower, over the curve of your lower back, slipping beneath your shirt to cup your ass firmly. His fingers kneaded your flesh before grasping the hem of your panties and tugging up, the fabric pressing tightly against your pussy.

The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, the cloth stimulating your clit as he gave it individual tugs. You whimpered into his mouth, your body writhing against him even though it was almost physically impossible. To amplify the pleasure, Dexter's thigh slid between your legs, the textured fabric of his cargos creating a delicious sensation.

When he was satisfied with the wet spot you created on his pants, he dropped to his knees. He teased you some more, licking along the hem of your panties, placing wet kisses on your thighs and burying his nose against your heat, telling you how good you smell.

“Dex,” you whined. Your cunt screamed for release as well as your strained arms. You wanted nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against his mouth until the dam broke.

He had told you before that his face was made for you to sit on. Once, Deb had jokingly called him a chair, which turned out to be a thought her therapist had passed on to her. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the nights when he made you sit on his cock as he went over his subjects. He blindfolded you each time, naturally.

And from the look on your face, Deb knew instantly where your thoughts had gone, and said that she didn’t need that mental image in her head. You both laughed about it later. Honestly, you two loved sharing your sexcapades with each other.

Dexter found out through Quinn, because of course Deb would share, especially if you gave her inspiration. And he couldn't resist taking a jab at Dexter.

“I didn’t know you were such an animal, Dex,” Joey had told him with that smug grin of his.

Dex had given you an earful about how you had kind of compromised his privacy. It was only a matter of time until Masuka learned about this, and he was already exasperating. Dexter was afraid Masuka would take it as a shared hobby, something they could finally, really talk about with passion, like two guys. Ugh, the thought alone made him uncomfortable already.

But you'd told him that Deb was your best friend, and that girlfriends just had to talk about this stuff.

“It’s like therapy.”

“Don’t you say that about sex too?”

“Depends on the circumstances. Besides, it’s good for tips. You should thank her. If you thought making me squirt was all your talent, think again.”

After that, you made a deal not to bring up your sex club discussions in front of Dexter, and Deb made Quinn promise he wouldn’t say a word in front of Vince.

However, you did joke about the chair thing often, because he did provide the best seat in the house, whether it was his lap or his face.

But this time, he wasn't giving it up so easily. He wanted to make you earn it, but you couldn’t do anything except to wait.

When he finally did put his tongue on you, he didn’t take your panties off. He made you cum with them on, licking your clit over your panties, sometimes brushing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves before sliding to your hole and pushing against the cloth, to the point your underwear became uncomfortable from how soaked it was with your cum.

Then he finally pushed your panties aside, the wet material sticking to your skin. He shuffled closer, his forehead grazing your stomach and his hair tickling your skin as he looked down at you, sliding his fingers through your folds and over your sensitive clit. you begged him to make you cum again, thinking he’d finally eat you out properly, but he just used his fingers.

He stayed on his knees for a while, admiring your shiny pussy and grazing his fingernails over your clit, teasing you, before standing up to his full height and properly fucking you hard with his fingers.

He wrapped his arm around you once again, bracing himself to your side as he started snapping his palm against your clit, two of his fingers sliding in and out of you and filling the room with wet sounds.

When you started cumming again, his other hand, that was resting on your hip reached down and tugged on your panties again, positioning the crotch back between your pussy lips and pulling, wiggling it to create stimulation against your clit.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lower jaw dropping down as he admired your squirming body.

You cried out from the sensation, your head banging against the door and one of your legs bending in the knee as you pressed your thighs together, trying to escape from the overstimulation.

You were so consumed by coming down from your high that you didn’t expect Dexter to unhitch the chain from the hook on the door, making you lose your balance. You would have surely fallen to the ground if Dexter hadn’t been there, but he was ready to catch you.

He shifted your body, picking you up bridal style. You thought that he’d lay you down onto the bed and fuck you there, but instead, he opened the door and headed out of the room. And as you rested in the comfort of his strong arms, your head against his shoulder, you noticed that his shirt smelt differently. It wasn’t the usual sweat and blood, or different human remains. It was a laundry detergent, meaning he truly did this just for you. It was your night.

He carried you through the living room, making his way toward his desk where he sat you down.

Unlike every other day, the computer was gone, as well as the photo of him and Deb. In fact, it was completely cleared out.

How have you not noticed that?

He stood between your thighs, working the cuffs to separate them from each other before pulling your sleep shirt over your head, leaving you exposed to him. His hand reached out, pinching your nipple as he kissed you, sharing the taste of your pussy with you. He pressed himself against you, the button of his cargos grazing your clit and making you moan. You were still sensitive, but you loved every second of it.

He leaned into you, forcing you to lie down, the coldness of the desk hitting your back and spreading goosebumps over your skin. He positioned you to his liking, moving you up so your feet rested on the top of the desk.

“I make sure they can’t escape,” he continued his description of the way he’d done things, pulling out another set of cuffs from the desk drawer and clasping each around your ankles before cuffing them to your wrist cuffs. You weren’t unfamiliar with any of this, but then he pulled out two other clasps and attached the ankle cuffs to the D-rings built in the desk.

Were those always there?

Now, you were all spread out for him, your nipples stiff for him to feed on, your legs bent in the knees and putting the outline of your cunt under your ruined panties on full display. You were capable of minimal movement with your ankles attached to the desk and your hands dependent on the movement of your legs. You weren’t going anywhere. Not that you wanted to.

“Are you good?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t doing anything you weren’t up to.

“Yes.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Magazine.”

You watched as Dexter moved around the apartment, disappearing from your sight to retrieve a black, flat bag. When he returned to the kitchen counter, he seemed to unroll the bag, his back to you. You had to crane your neck to see, the vertebrae in your neck squishing together as you tried to get a glimpse of what lay inside. Something steely caught the light as he pulled it out. Then Dexter turned around, a pointed tool spinning under the force of his index finger. A Wartenberg wheel.

Your throat tightened, chills coursing down your spine as your body shifted in anticipation. Nothing could have prepared you for the next set of events. You were sure the next time you and Deb swapped stories, she would be the one taking notes.

Dexter tortured the fuck out of you.

He started with the pinwheel, rolling it all over your body. The pins were sharp enough to prickle your skin as they trailed along your arms, but it didn’t hurt. At first, it was even nice, relaxing almost. Then he moved to your chest, the wheel gliding from the hollow of your neck, down between your breasts and over you stomach.

As it neared the waistband of your soaked panties, you thought he’d continue further down and toward your aching pussy. But just as it reached below your navel, the wheel disappeared, making you huff.

That was your mistake. You’d worked yourself up by stupidly thinking that he’d go there right away. Foolish.

“I cut them up.”

You flinched at the sudden sound, startled, but he didn’t comment. The pinwheel resumed its path, drawing invisible lines across your wrists, elbows, shoulders, mimicking incisions. You closed your eyes, letting your imagination take over.

“Into evenly cut pieces,” he added.

Now the tool traveled lower, grazing your legs, running from your ankle to your bent knee, then up the sensitive skin of inner thigh. You trembled under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

You reveled in the thought of this man, this predator, choosing to worship you instead of discarding you. Who knows, maybe one day, he would snap. But the possibility only made your body quake more.

He noticed, stopping the wheel just where your thigh met your hip. “Are you scared?”

“No.” you said, though your voice betrayed you, shaking on the single syllable.

But you really weren’t. If you were truly scared, you wouldn’t have misbehaved just now.

Before you could think about what would happen next, his hand struck, his palm landing sharply against your clothed pussy, and it was just then that you noticed he had put on his gloves, the leather making the sting more searing. You gasped, your hips jerking from the impact.

“If you thought you’d get a free pass, you were sorely mistaken.” He leaned over you, his hand sliding from your core to your thigh, squeezing the flesh. “Let’s try again. Are you scared?”

“No, sir.”

Other times, if you failed to call him sir right away, you’d get a warning. Maybe a slap to your thigh, or a firm squeeze of your neck. Never your pussy. Not at first.

“Such a brave girl.” This time, he ran the pinwheel slowly from your waist toward your chest. He altered its course, pressing it against your breast, applying more pressure as he reached your nipple, the sharp points dragging over it. “See? They could never measure up to you.”

Dexter turned the wheel again, guiding it slowly down your heaving stomach. You swore one of the metallic points grazed the bow on your panties, but he halted the motion, the wheel twisting 90 degrees to trace the hem of your underwear instead. Your hips tilted upwards instinctively, a desperate attempt to bring your pussy closer to his hand, but it was useless.

He continued to tease you, switching from one thigh to another, running it so close to your center, but never quite touching it. You kept waiting for that moment, but it never came.

“This is getting boring. I’ll go get something else,” he said nonchalantly, making his way toward the counter. Fucker.

“Wait,” you blurted without thinking. “I mean, please, sir…”

His footsteps paused, then drew closer again, stopping beside your head and smiling down at you.

“Did you want something?”

“Can you please touch my pussy?”

“Of course,” he said, a mocking lilt in his voice. “I just have to make my hands free,” he replied, taking a step toward the counter again, but you were quick to react.

“No!” You immediately regretted your words as he returned to the same spot. Dexter’s hand tilted your head, his gloved fingers squeezing your cheeks. The leather was firm and hot against your face. “I’m sorry, sir,” you added quickly, your voice muffled under his grip.

He leaned in closer. “You’d better realize your place, sweetheart. Or I’ll make sure this won’t be a fun experience.”

You apologized again, not forgetting the title, and he released your face, giving you a nod.

“Can you please touch my pussy with… that?”

Fuck your pride, right?

He raised his hand in front of his face, inspecting the pinwheel as though it had just appeared in his hand.

“Oh, this?” he said, feigning ignorance, clearly mocking you. “You want me to–” He moved the tool lazily through the air above your body, stopping just over your lower half “Touch you here?”

With a swift motion, the wheel skimmed between your legs, the pins grazing your panties. You didn’t even have the time to register it before he removed it again, but the electrifying sensation that came and went made you moan as your clit pulsed with excitement.  

“Yes, please.”

His nose brushed against yours as he leaned over again, and you thought he was going to kiss you. Instead, he mocked you again, his voice dripping with condescension as he cupped your chin. “Aw, you’re such a dirty girl, huh?”

His head dropped, his hair tickling your cheek as he glanced downward, watching his hand between your thighs. He made another contact with your pussy, slowly this time, focused. A mix of relief and hunger flooded you as he ran it up and down your wet underwear, the prickling sensation shooting through your nerves. “You want me to fuck you with it too? Are you that sick, hm?”

When you didn’t respond, he stopped and his head snapped towards you. His gloved hand left your face, only to land a slap across your cheek. The sting spread across your face, your skin burning under the impact.

“I didn’t fucking hear you.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

What can you say? Slapping didn’t really work on you. He knew that, it’s the reason he did it. So he could do it again.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He slapped you again, this time harder, the leather stinging even more than his bare hand.  

“If that’s what you wanted, sir, I’d take it.” You managed to keep your voice steady despite the heat in your cheek.

His lips curved into a smile. He stood up, walking towards the counter. “Jesus Christ,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky you found me. Anyone else would’ve committed your ass to a psychiatric hospital.”

“Fate,” you commented, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t punish you. Meaning you made him smile.

Dexter returned with a knife, and he dragged it across the chains, the clinking sound of metal scraping against metal echoing in the room.

He focused on your pussy now, rubbing the flat side of the knife against your clit, occasionally tapping it against you, and you half-expected he might nick the skin of your thighs if he wasn’t careful.

Then, Dexter flipped the knife again, teasing you with its blunt edge before bringing it to your breasts. He drew circles around your nipples with the tip of the knife, sharper than the pinwheel.

His body moved again, positioning himself behind you. His face, upside down, loomed above, gently cupping the underside of your chin, tilting your head back. The leather of his gloves gave you an unnerving sensation as his fingers held you in place. You felt the cold steel of the knife at your throat, running from one carotid to the other.

“Sometimes I cut their throats. But it’s not really my favorite style,” he said, the blade left your neck, drifting downward until it hovered over your left breast, settling directly above your wildly beating heart. He pressed the tip of the knife just enough for your skin to dip under its force. He could do anything to you. He could kill you right then and there.

“I love you,” you confessed for what felt like umpteenth time.

Dexter smiled, leaning down and placing a tender kiss on your forehead, all while controlling the force he still had on the knife.

He straightened, moving to your side again. His gloved fingers trailed over your stomach as he slid the knife under the hem of your underwear. The sharp edge pressed upwards, and you felt the fabric give way with a faint snick as the first small tear formed.

He moved the blade lower, repeating the motion. Each cut widened the tear, revealing the top of your clit. He shredded the panties until they were completely off, leaving you slickness glistening in the dim light and dripping onto the table beneath you.

Dexter removed his gloves and slid his fingers between your pussy lips, coating them in your wetness, before he brought them to his mouth. He just made you cum with his mouth, surely he wouldn’t–

But before you could finish your thought, he bent down over your torso and in a millisecond, his head was between your thighs. Mouth wide open, his tongue resting on his chin as he pressed it flat against your clit, and his upper lip collecting your juices straight from the source.

It was a single, devastating taste, but it was enough to make your legs tremble, the chains stopping you from closing them.

“Shit, I might as well eat you out again.”

Yeah, he might. Without anything in the way this time.  

It was just stroking your ego. It really made you proud, how his tongue was addicted to your pussy.

He brought the final tool of the night – a small brush that looked like it belonged in a makeup kit. It also looked like the softest instrumentof the night, but turned out to be the most torturing one.

The bristles touched your clit with featherlight strokes, maddeningly soft. The individual bristles tickled and stimulated every single nerve ending, sending vibrations through your entire body.

You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily. Dexter worked the brush in slow, torturous circles, teasing your clit to the brink. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he stuffed two fingers inside your hole, wiggling them inside to massage the spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

The synergy was overwhelming. Your body writhed against the chains, chasing the orgasm building rapidly within you. But just as the climax was about to crash over you, he stopped. His fingers withdrew and the brush disappeared, your back arching in desperation as you felt the pleasure simmer out, leaving your abdomen hollow and aching from the loss.

“Please, sir, can I come?”

“Of course you can,” he said in a soft voice.

But he didn’t let you. He edged you again and again, pushing you to the brink, only to yank you back. He was playing with you, letting you know that your body wasn’t yours tonight. It was under his control. You were his.

The brush was drenched in your juices at this point, ruined just like your panties and your throbbing cunt. A few tears slipped from your eyes, mixing with the sweat slicking your skin. So you begged, desperate for the release. You begged until he finally finger-fucked, plunging his fingers into you and pumping them relentlessly. His thumb rubbed your puffy clit, sending you spiraling into an earth-shattering orgasm.

You came hard, your juices spilling over his hand and splattering onto his watch. He only pulled his fingers out to spank your clit, amplifying the intensity of your orgasm. At one point, he reached for the discarded glove, fisting it and placing harsh smacks against your sore pussy. You screamed, and after he landed his last smack, feeling you were nearing another orgasm, he switched the rough sensation of the leather for the softness of his tongue, firmly pressing against you and shaking his head from side to side, letting you cum into you his mouth.

You could barely take it and you were scared he might pull out a vibrator, because he liked to do that when you came twice in the span of two minutes. But he didn’t, removing his glistening face from your center and standing up. You just laid there, your body a racing circuit for the endorphins and oxytocin at this point.

Dexter gave you only a few second before he undid the chains, the clinking of metal barely audible over the pounding in your ears. He didn’t let you move, though, keeping you sprawled on table as he shifted your body higher until your head hung off the edge.

He stood in front of your face, and you knew what he wanted. You reached for the button of his cargo pants, undoing them and pulling them down along with his underwear. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy. Gorgeous. You didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward, licking the bead of precum from his tip before taking him into your mouth.

Dexter groaned, the sound vibrating through you. Soon, he took over, thrusting into your throat as he held you down. One hand pressed against your neck, feeling the way you swallowed his cock, while the other pinched and tugged at your nipples.

You gagged around him, bubbles forming in the corners of your mouth as you struggled to keep up. This time, your eyes outright stung from the tears that were forcing their way out, but you didn’t stop. It wasn’t until you coughed, your throat tightening involuntarily and squeezing around him, that he pulled out with a groan.

You gasped for air, your chest heaving, but he didn’t give you long to recover. His hand gripped your neck and yanked you up, forcing you into a kneeling position on the table. You just sat there, dazed, your hands resting in your lap like the picture of innocence. Messy hair, glassy eyes, and swollen lips.

Dexter kissed them, shoving his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and making you taste yourself again. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the long list of stimuli.

You dared to sneak your hand away from your lap, circling your fingers around his cock and stroking him slowly. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head and he moaned into your mouth before his head fell back. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against Dexter’s neck, sucking on his pulse point and grazing it with your teeth.

You moved your hand up and down, and Dexter’s moans and gasps grew louder and more frantic. You quickened your pace, his hips jerking into your hand as he chased his own orgasm. You twisted your hand, and he came with a guttural groan. His cum spilled onto your stomach, warm and sticky, and his hand shot out to grip the hair at the back of your neck, yanking you into another kiss as he came down from his high.

When his breathing slowed, you awkwardly shifted your legs over the edge of the table, letting them dangle as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You pulled him close, burying your face in his chest, a content sigh escaping you as you enjoyed the warmth, the softness of his body.

He cupped your head, his thumb brushing small crescents against your scalp with returned tenderness as he let out a soft sigh of his own, his chest rising and falling against you.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t pull away to look at him, your body too spent to do much more than to snuggle deeper into his chest and squeeze his torso.

“Better than,” you mumbled.

“I know this wasn’t what you wanted,” he said.

That made you lift your head. You looked at him, your brows drawing together in confusion.

“But this,” he gestured to the table, his brow raising, “is the only table I want to see you on. The only restraints I ever want to see on you. And I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours that there’s nothing sexy about what I do.”

“In my dreams there is,” you said, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“YN,” he warned.

“I know,” you relented with a roll of your eyes, his brows raising, daring you to be a brat in this moment. “For the record, it was better than what I wanted.”

You smiled and he kissed you again, silencing any further rebellion. When you shivered against him, he pulled back and cleaned you up before ordering you to throw on a shirt.

“Yes, sir,” you replied cheekily, adding a playful salute for good measure.

“I will spank your ass if you don’t get it in the shower in ten seconds,” he said, pulling his own pants up. Would that be so bad? You bit your lip to keep from grinning and headed into the bathroom, while he cleaned the table.

By the time you switched places, you felt refreshed, fucked out just right as every muscle in your body ached with a sweet kind of soreness. You heated up his dinner while making yourself a quick sandwich. Just as you set his plate down, he walked out of the bathroom. You grabbed your sandwich and set down, with Dexter soon joining you.

When you finished your meals, the two of you migrated to the couch. He rested his head on your stomach, while you draped your legs over his shoulders.

Your fingers played with the freshly washed hair, soft and silky from the shampoo. You twirled the strands around your fingers lazily, and his quiet purrs filled the room as you trailed your fingertips along the curve of his ears, scraping gently at the sensitive spots behind them. That sound, half sigh, half growl, might’ve been your favorite thing in the world.

You bent down, the movement uncomfortable and your muscles protesting as you pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. But the way it scrunched affectionately under your touch made the discomfort worth it.

[gojocon]

this is so satoru 🤍

i wrote something similar before but the two of you don’t get married through conventional means. one day he showed up to your house and dragged you to the court house cause he just couldn’t stand you not having his last name. he needed you to be bound to him, and him to you. he needed the entire world to know — he’d marry you in every country if he had to (he does end up doing this whenever you travel somewhere new and the both of you are always traveling specifically for this reason)

one thing he definitely regretted from being too hasty was how he’d never see you in a wedding dress so he’s elated when you decide to finally have a traditional wedding (you wanted to have photos to look back on)

satoru was on board right away, he’d love seeing you in a white dress or a kimono — whatever it is that you wanted to wear for your special day. he was all for getting married over and over and over and over for the rest of your days and if you wanted to have another ceremony the next day and the day after that and after that he’d do it for the rest of his life if it meant that everyday would be your anniversary going forward.

the ceremony was small, only close friends and relatives and though satoru wanted to invite the whole country, it was perfect and intimate and exactly what you wanted to remember as your wedding day. the moment he sees you walk down the aisle, his eyes widen and he feels a little tingly, palms sweaty — he couldn’t believe he’d been so hasty and missed this, missed you, the sight of you as a bride — his bride.

he doesn’t realize he’s floating a bit, heart eyed, a warm feeling spreading through his crotch and he feels himself keeling over slightly, a jolt of electricity shooting through him but he assumes it’s just the shot of true love coursing through him until some guests are giving him or more specifically, his lower region, odd looks. so he tilts his head down, and to his embarrassment there’s a wet patch.

needless to say, he spends the entirety of the event with his cheeks unbelievably red and his hands clasped over his bulge, discreet but not discreet enough, very stiff the entire time. people assumed it was just the nerves and those who did see the stain beforehand also assumed it was nerves and that he pissed himself.

he definitely shouldn’t have worn a tan colored suit, but he just wanted to match you with the closest color to white! but going forward he has to settle for darker shades cause indeed, every time you and satoru have your annual redo of your wedding, he seems to have the same problem every single time — it’s just easier hiding it behind black.

need him to cum in his pants, just a smidge at least, the first time he sees me in a wedding dress

[oogaboogaspookyman]

So i've been having thoughts...

[EVERYTHING]

Another day, another thing to fight over. N is getting tired of this.

"NO NO NO, YOU CHEATED! YOU DEFINETLY CHEATED! YOU DESERVE THOSE EXTRA CARDS I MADE YOU PICK UP!" Uzi pointed fingers at V, who's currently at the front with one lone card. Yes they're playing Uno.

"I AM NOT CHEATING, YOU ROTTEN GRAPE, I'M ALLOWED TO PUT DOWN MORE THAN ONE CARD AT ONCE!" And V pointed fingers back at Uzi like she's being discriminated.

N just spaced out, looking at the front of him with half-lidded, tired eyes like a parent hearing siblings fight over the Xbox. At this point, nobody would deserve to hold the controller and it would be given away to someone more competent than the two of them, more deserving.

Meanwhile Cyn, Uzi's tail, is coiled around a can of oil. She's sipping from it like a kitty cat.

Right in front of my oil can, too. Annoyed expression.

N knows what to do, but it's gonna hurt and be slightly out of character for him, being the golden retriever of the group...

The entrance door to the bunker opens swiftly, and out comes a flying pair of Uzi and V, soon after faceplanting onto the snow ground.

"You're getting back in once you get along, or when it's getting late and i feel like you should get in." And right after N's first piece of dialogue, he closes the door on them.

The pair of girls looked at the now closed door to the bunker liked puppies having been thrown outside. Man N really did that, huh?

Strike one.

"zip it- Yeah! Sure! Whatever N, it's not like we need you or anything!" Uzi shouted back, trying to hide the hurt in the fact she's been pretty disciplined by her own fucking boyfriend.

"Careful with your words, rat." And V, being someone that cares about N a whole awful lot, bit back defensively.

Strike two.

"What are you, her girlfriend now? That's me!" Uzi you're way too smug.

And here we go.

"I USED TO HAVE HIM ALL TO MYSELF BEFORE YOU HAD TO COME ALONG!!"

Uzi's eyes widened and hollowed in shock as V yelled back.

"I HAD WHAT FELT LIKE EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING I TELL YOU, AND I LOST IT ALL TO THIS IDIOT ELDRITCH HORROR THAT TORE US APART AND PUT BACK TOGETHER LIKE TOYS. WE ARE A KITBASHED MESS OF A DRONE SQUAD AND YOU JUST HAVE THE NERVE TO BE A LITTLE SHIT TO ME JUST BECAUSE OF WHAT I AM AND WHAT I DO TO SURVIVE!"

Uzi walked back as V took her steps forward, slowly and menacingly, and while this happens her hands swap out for her signature claws. They're shaking.

"I CARE ABOUT HIM, I CARE SO FUCKING MUCH ABOUT HIM, I WANT THE BEST FOR HIM EVEN IF IT MEANT I HAD TO STEP OUT, STAY AWAY FROM THE ONE DRONE I LOVE, AND I CAN'T PROTECT HIM WHEN YOU'RE ACTIVELY MAKING EVERYTHING A PROBLEM!"

She makes one step forward, strong enough to make some snow fly off the ground.

"YOU CONSUMED OUR WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE AND NOW I HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOU AND THAT FUCKING THING, CAN'T YOU JUST CUT ME SOME FUCKING SLACK?!"

V's optics start to glitch as tears begin to sprout from them. Her vision blurs.

"DO- DO YOU KNOW HOW I FELT WATCHING CYN HOLDING N'S CORE?! HAVE YOU- HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED HOW I FELT AT ALL?!"

Her voice begins to shake, just like her claws. Just like her entire body.

"I... I-I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE, WH- W- WHAT DO I D-DO TO MAKE YOU TREAT ME WITH B-BASIC FUCKING DECENCY, I REALLY DON'T KNOW!"

Uzi's hands begins to shake, a quiet sob coming out of her throat. Quiet enough to not be heard.

And as soon as Uzi slowed down to a stop, V took the chance to pounce and pin her down onto the snow.

Holy damn.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO AT THIS POINT, TELL ME!!"

V's panting, sounding animalistic, slowed down to a halt as she notices the face on Uzi. She's quietly crying. There are tears in her eyes.

V gets off of the crying drone and looks down on her, guilty. Guilty because you got tired of her antics? Really?

"Get up..."

Uzi, for some reason, obeyed and got up on her feet. Her legs are shaky...

...

A surprise hug from V is given to Uzi. A safe one, as she swapped out her claws for hands. I forget to mention shit sometimes.

"I'm sorry..."

...

"No, fuck that, i should be sorry..." Uzi's voice is so unsteady...

"But-" The sobbing drone held onto V's back tighter. "You need him more than i do and- and i took him from you b-because you did a mistake, you deserve to make amends and love him like i do... I'm sorry"

...

"Just let it all out, you need it... You need him more than me, V"

A crying mess of a dissassembly drone is heard screaming her voice away, quickly overpowering Uzi's noise in loudness.

God damn you two...

The two sit down on an abandoned car, the front of it to be specific, both of them in thought of what had transpired...

"What should i do to apologize properly?" V whispered to Uzi. She may or may not have lost a bit of her voice.

"Dude... Your voice..." Uzi looked at V with worry in her eyes.

"My voice doesn't matter, how should i apologize to N properly?"

... Uzi looked away in thought about it... Then back at her. "I think a simple “sorry for everything i did” and a hug will do... Maybe a kiss since you uh... Love him?"

"I can hear you, you don't have to whisper... I'm not gonna kiss him" She just... Stays, looking at the nothingness instead of the night sky, tired.

"Juuuuust a suggestion..." Uzi responded softly, looking back at what's above.

...

Maybe V should try it..? Who knows...

There's a knock on the entrance door to the bunker. N responds to it, and looks at them like a disappointed parent. "Did you two get along now?"

...

Uzi looked away, as did V... They're both seemingly tired. N notices this and immediately his demeanor switches. "Are you- are you doing okay?? Come in, come in, i'm so sorry i really shouldn't have done that-"

"No. I'm sorry, for everything i've done... And yeah let us in" she whispered to N, trying to raise her voice so she could be heard a little more. N notices this and, now worried, decides to let them in.

And now once inside, they head to Uzi's room...

"V, what happened to your voice?? Did you scream??" N is full of fear and worry and guilt, something could've happened and it would've been N's fault it could be anything it could be the worst thing ever it could-

A hug... From V.

"Stop worrying so much, my voice doesn't matter here... I'm sorry."

N puts his arms around her body, hugging back. "Alright... But what happened??"

"Me and Uzi got along... She says she's sorry even though i... We just- we just set aside our differences, okay..?" She pulled back from the hug to look at N in the eye as she spoke. She's smiling...

...

"I hope Uzi gives you what i failed to give you-"

"ROBO-GOD DAMMIT V!" Uzi yelled and pushed V onto N, causing their faces to collide. Causing their lips to collide.

V let out a muffled squeak as she kisses N, and he does the same noise, both from the shock of the kiss, the push, and the fact they've fallen onto Uzi's bed, V on top of N...

V pulls back from the kiss to look at N, shocked. He's feeling just as surprised. "Uhh..." V, for the first time in a long time, blushes so much her visor becomes an LED and feels a gratuituous amount of butterflies in her stomach. And so does N, after a while of thinking his feelings towards V had faded away... Looks like they still remain.

V whips her around to angrily glare at Uzi, who's enjoying the moment of the couple finally being a couple, and that V got what she needed the most.

She takes a deep breath, and gets off of N. "You win this time..." She said, sternly.

"You got what you needed most, can't you just say thanks??" Uzi threw her arms up, offended by V's ungratefulness.

"... As a thank you for forcing me to give a kiss to my ex i might as well return the favour~" Uzi immediately regretted her choices and began to try to run away... But she can't. There's V's tail coiled around her waist. Fuck.

"V NO OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY HOLY SHIT- MMPH!!" Uzi squeaked, and it's muffled from V's lips colliding with her own. She didn't win at all, definetly /sarcasm.

Gross. Annoyed expression.

Once V pulled back, slowly, and smirked at Uzi's reaction. Her visor is overrun with purple blush, overlapping her eyes.

"i definetly didn't like that-" V quickly interrupts her. "Oh yes you did~" and finishes that sentence by licking her lips... "meep!"

"V don't be mean now-"

"I'm not, i'm just giving Uzi a thank you gift~!"

"That's my girlfriend you're kissing? Hellooo??" He said with his hands on his hips. Looks like Uzi's sass rubbed off on N.

"Wanna double team her, then~?" Uzi whined at that, gaining the attention of the two dissassembly drones. They look like cats when you go pspspspsps.

EW! Disgusted expression!

"... We'll do that later~, for now... How about we cuddle? We've had... A harsh day, y'know?" V made an actually nice suggestion. It feels like the first time she does this... Maybe they do need a cuddle session.

Uzi thinks about it... After their most intense interaction and all, it sounds good right about now...

"Sure! I love doing anything that makes my girls happy!" N didn't think about it at all, all cuddles are accepted in his case... "You know what? Why not, let's give it a go..." And Uzi accepted, seeing as N was happy about it... Besides she really needs to chill out too.

N pulls his girls in so that they're resting against him his tail intertwining with V's and his head resting on Uzi's messy wave of purple. He sighs in relief. "Thanks for getting along, you two..."

"Hey Uzi..?" V has one last thing to say...

"mm..?"

"Thank you..."

...

...

Uzi sniffs once and hugs the two of them... Especially V, the most hurt of the group...

And suddenly, V has everything all over again, and she'll make sure that this time... Nothing will take them away. Never again.

[end.]

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

It’s me again, the Norm anon. I wanted to build upon your recent comment about Norm and Hank’s dynamic in the show.

The thing that stood out to me in the show was when Hank put Lucy in the little closet when Moldaver and the raiders attacked. He said “you are my world” to her and I immediately thought to myself, well what about, Norm? You have a whole other kid that you don’t seem to be nearly as close to or even worried about after this absolute massacre.

I think he saw Lucy as being the perfect successor of what Vault Tec wanted for their descendants. She followed the rules, was positive to a fault, active and involved in various activities, clubs and the community. Maybe it was also because she reminded him of her mother because despite what all did, he did love her at one point.

Whereas Norm had problems wherever he went seemingly. Despite him having all the real qualities of a Vault Tec employee that you see behind the scenes, pulling the strings: someone who is perceptive, calculating to the point it is almost manipulative and has what it takes to make those gritty decisions that others would be shocked about (i.e. suggesting they kill the remaining raiders).

I honestly think that between Lucy and Norm, he is the one that is most like Hank. The real Hank that was helping take part in this whole Vault Tec experiment.

I just love seeing stuff with the Vaults and their community so it’s a shame that we didn’t get more of Norm in the first season and his dynamic with Lucy and their father. But he will definitely be a big player in the coming season. Definitely underestimated black sheep.

I think you’re gonna be bringing a level of angst and realism to this that’s gonna scream “porn WITH plot.” Super excited.

This got buried underneath newer submissions in the inbox, and I've been whittling away at like ten asks at once, so sorry for the delay in my reply, Anon. I seem to remember this being sent in just a bit before Shoot The Moon came out, so I hope you've gotten a chance to check it out since then! I really am very proud of it.

As to your comments about Norm's dynamic with Hank, I was really excited to dig more into it! I did try to keep it as more of a building, below-the-surface tension for most of the piece, because I wanted the focus to be on the romance and Norm's deep sense of self-doubt (largely accrued through years of being treated as second fiddle or literally forgotten about much of the time). I think that's what their whole relationship would be like: just a shit ton of unspoken resentments on both sides, swallowed down for the sake of nicety and appearances.

That line in the show really sealed that thought for me, honestly. Like, sir, what do you mean she's "your world"? Do you even know where your son is right now? Are you certain he's okay? Lucy was the person who hid Norm away to make sure he was safe because their father was too busy.

Hank absolutely sees Rose in Lucy, we couldn't agree more on that. I'd even go a step further and say that Hank sees Lucy as basically another version of her mother, one who he can control more easily and ultimately utilize for whatever purpose he saw for Rose. I highly doubt Hank MacLean views either of his children as full-fledged, independent people, only as potential means to meet his goals. Therein lies the root of why he treats them so differently; sure he may hug both kids, talk to them both, play dad. How bad would it make him look if he made it blatant just how much he favors one child to the other? He's supposed to be the upstanding leader of the Vault community, so he also has to appear to be the world's best dad.

However, at the end of the day, Norm's not as pliable, and therefore not as useful to Hank. He also isn't especially impressive on any front that his father cares about, so he also has no use for him as a way to make himself look good. Hank is completely blind to the fact that his son is more like him than his daughter will ever be (a dangerous underestimation of how calculating and tactical Norm can be when he really applies himself). Norm is essentially a son-shaped prop Hank trots out when he needs him. Make no mistake, though; the moment Lucy crosses him, she's demoted to the same position in her father's eyes. He only loves Lucy as much as he does because she's like a Rose who follows orders, and we all know what happened to the real Rose when she crossed him.

Like you, I'm definitely hoping to learn more about what folks' living experience in the Vault program is like in season two...honestly, if they're not gonna fill in the holes, I already have a ton of headcanons about Vault life ready to go. Every Vault is different, but it'll be interesting to see if they elaborate on how the "trio of sister Vaults" setup works, or was intended to work.

I hope Shoot the Moon was everything you wanted! I'd love to write more for Norm in the future. You and I seem to have a very similar vision of the MacLean family, so if you ever have more thoughts, don't hesitate to shoot them to me! Thanks for reading!

[eldritch-sand-terror]

i really want to hear more about your headcanons...

Alright, I have no idea where to start so I’ll start with one I’m sorta hesitant to speak on, since a this one in particular is one that really is just me projecting, but I’m gonna post it anyway, just to get it out of the way. There is no way in hell Gaara doesn’t have some kind of Paranoid Disorder, AND I absolutely believe that the three main symptoms are stress or sleep deprived hallucinations, problems with eating, and fears or vulnerability (physically and emotionally).

I'll elaborate more in depth on these some other time (maybe), but for now, this post should suffice.

Starting with the hallucinations. Anyone under enough specific conditions can suddenly have their mind play tricks on them, regardless of any prior condition. Mental illness might make someone more susceptible to hallucinations, but anyone can have them if they have a particularly terrible few months, and Gaara has had quite some particularly terrible years. The stress of believing that there’s always someone out to get you (caused by someone ACTUALLY having been out to get you), combined with sleep deprivation and isolation, make very terrible conditions to be in, and that makes for perfect conditions to start experiencing things that are not happening. The headcanon here is that Gaara experiences primarily auditory hallucinations, with or without influence from Shukaku. Mostly noises that don’t quite come from any particular direction, but the occasional voice does chime in.

Problems trusting food or drink made or handled by others is something that primarily happens in public settings, the fear lies in the possibility that someone put something in there with malicious intentions. I imagine that after years of people trying to kill him, Gaara would most likely develop some skepticism regarding anything anyone ever tries to get him to eat or drink. Headcanon-wise, this is why I think he’s so scrawny and thin. (This specific headcanon also ties in to another one that I have, that being that Gaara knows enough about desert wildlife to be out there eating things that most people don’t like to think about eating.)

Fears of vulnerability in both physical and emotional ways. Physically getting hurt is bad enough, and the risk of being killed is always on the mind, any situation that could be dangerous is to be avoided, and anyone who can bypass whatever security you do have is an immediate threat. Getting hurt emotionally is a whole other beast entirely, you don’t need to know how to wield a weapon to cut out a piece of someone’s soul. Fears, doubts, ideals, hopes, all manner of thoughts filtered before letting them out to anyone, told carefully to a specific few people. There is always a possibility of someone seeing the parts of your soul that you’ve shown, and remembering them only to stab you there later. Knowing anything about Gaara lore should make it clear as to why this would be a thing. It’s a special kind of terrible to be hurt by the people who are supposed to love you.

Anyway, thoughts over. It took me like a day to get my thoughts in order, so I need to zone out and recharge my brain cells. I’ll elaborate more some other time maybe, and get into those nice and horrible specifics later! If you read all this, go drink water, get a snack, and think about an animal you like.

[dxstoeskyvjbess]

– FAVOURITE CRIME

𝓟𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

𝓦𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; not eating, angsty, swearing, jj might be slightly occ, jj messing his life up.

𝓦𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 1.2k

𝓘𝗻𝗳𝗼𝘀 ; angst | loosely inspired by favourite crime (olivia rodrigo)

𝓝𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ; i just started obx and finished it in 2 weeks wtf

𝓢𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ; well i hope i was your favourite crime, cause baby you were mine.

masterlist | request | about me

⁀⁀➷

JJ often got into trouble. It wasn’t something new, and you got used to it eventually—yet you often found yourself terrified because of whatever new trouble he had just thrown himself into.

At first, all you wanted was for him to be safe, and you easily looked past everything he did. You were a Kook, and crime wasn’t exactly a daily event before you happened to team up with the Pogues. Yet, after you found a home in JJ Maybank, things changed.

You had honestly lost count of all the times you had to pay for restitutions or give money to questionable people to drag him out of trouble. You were happy to help him—you really were—but there were times when all you needed was long-lasting peace, and JJ, even if he wanted to, wasn’t able to give you that.

"Know that I loved you so bad, I let you treat me like that…"

Eventually, you realized you couldn’t help but grow colder, and the weight on your chest grew heavier every time he was in danger. The lies you had to tell your parents and the lies you had to tell yourself to keep going were growing old, and you watched those pretty lies become insufficient.

Yet you loved him, you really did, and that left you on the edge of supporting his lifestyle while also realizing just how different yours was. You tried so hard to stay strong, but you had a weak heart—you always knew that.

"I was your willing accomplice, honey…"

He didn’t usually drag you into his plans; in fact, he worked hard to keep you safe and unaffected by his behavior—but he knew the problems would keep piling up.

He watched as you saw him doing things he secretly hated, all while wearing your heart on your sleeve and giving him a look that screamed Stop, please.

"And I watched as you fled the scene…"

“What did you do this time?” was usually the first thing you asked, your voice cracking just a little toward the end as you avoided his gaze. He could see the discomfort in your face, no matter how much you tried to hide it, smiling because, after all, he was okay. You would still hold his hand gently, just like you always did.

"Doe-eyed as you buried me…"

One heart broke, four hands bloody.

But this time, he went too far. After getting into a serious fight with his father—which was already enough of a concern for you—he just disappeared.

No texts. No calls. He sent you a single message saying he got into something with his dad, and then he disappeared for four days.

You called every person he was remotely close to, from John B to Kiara, and, out of desperation, you even sent a quick text to Rafe Cameron.

You spent hours crying. If even his friends had no idea where he was, anything could have happened to him. On the third day, you even considered the possibility that he was dead, and the thought made your heart crumble into tiny pieces.

John B and the others were starting to worry too. They eventually teamed up with you in hopes of finding him wherever he had decided to hide.

Your parents didn’t know what to say. You refused to eat, you refused to sleep, and you refused to live, in the first place, without him.

Then, on another night spent crying, your phone lit up in the middle of the night.

"Sorry, had to stay away 4 a while. I’m at the Chateau."

You stared at the text. At first, you thought you were hallucinating. But after reading the message at least ten times, you slipped on your shoes, grabbed a long jacket, and ran in your pajamas from Figure 8 to the Chateau.

The blonde was with John B, wearing a tired expression and sporting a few bruises here and there. His face lit up instantly the second he saw you, his smile growing an inch—until you slapped him hard across his right cheek. His smile vanished.

“Are you out of your mind?! You don’t have a clue how worried I was! I thought you were dead!” you shouted as loud as you could, tears slipping down your face the second you started to talk.

“I’m so—” “No, you’re not.”

Your head pounded heavily, your weak body—deprived of food and rest for days—barely sustaining the pressure.

“I can’t do this anymore, JJ. I am so tired of ruining myself to keep up with you. My parents can’t even look at me anymore because of how much money I spend for you. My friends don’t ask me to hang out anymore since I’m involved in…whatever the hell this is.”

"The things I did…"

“And all that because I love you. Because I sickly wanted you to be mine. And you know what? There are times when I wish I didn’t.” Your voice was hesitant, but you knew this was a never-ending cycle that you needed to stop. You were spilling every bit of pain, anger, and venom that had bubbled in your chest.

JJ just stood there, his mouth dry as he absorbed every word you said. Each hurt expression on your face felt like a stab to his stomach.

"Just so I could call you mine…"

“Everything you did today just proves how little you care for me, contrary to what you say. But words are cheap, JJ. It’s your actions that speak louder.”

He didn’t know what to say. He always knew the truth deep down, but hearing it from you was a whole different level of guilt. “I know… You’ve gone through so many downs since you met me—” he murmured, unsure if you even wanted to hear him.

"The things you did…"

“Yeah, I did. Many downs and many dangers for you as well.”

“But that’s what my life is about—downs and dangers. I never asked you to be there for me,” he argued weakly, trying to raise his voice in a mere attempt of defending himself.

“But I was there for you! And I spent months dealing with the consequences of your actions!”

“That’s on you, though!” he shouted back, his anger catching up to yours. He hated feeling attacked—or vulnerable—and right now, he felt both.

“So much for I love you, Maybank,” you gritted through your teeth.

“You know what? I’ll lay my armor down. Find somebody else who can deal and commit like I did for so long. Good luck.” You stared at the ground for a moment and smoothed your hands over your sundress before giving him one last look.

“Well…I hope I was your favorite crime, JJ.”

And with that, you smiled and walked away.

JJ stood there, watching the very person he swore he’d never fail walk away, choosing her own happiness over him. He was almost proud of you. He took a deep breath and stared at your figure now far in the distance.

And he knew you weren’t going to look back.

Indeed you were his favorite crime.

"Your favorite crime…"

‘Cause baby, you were mine.

[shippyo]

((((Don't harass this person for their opinion,im srs))))))

Giving my own opinion which is going to be a lil long//

Are people with this nonsense again??? like im sorry this might come out rude but... 😭//

Dude, people who ship metasusie do it simply because they enjoy it, they like to see Susie redeemed, or see them simply in adorable and pleasant situations or whatever, it's annoying that people have AGAIN these absurd discussions, dude, let the ship go and let the people who want to enjoy it do it the way they want, it doesn't hurt anyone, worry at most that there are weird people who normalize really shady content, because in general that shouldn't be in a fandom, but that can be in this ship like any other

Also it's ...honeslty stupid to say this?

I mean can you mention another ship like Metagala which has metagala of real interaction? Oh right, Meta Knight beating up a being who supposedly massacred civilizations and was locked in a crystal for eons for its supposed crimes

Anyone usually say anything against Metagala except the random homophobes crap??? No! Because it's just a ship!! People ship them because they see potential or it's fun to reimagine stuff ! That's it!

The kirby fandom and many people have serious problems with this ship for the most nitpicky thing when they don't question the same thing or make absurd analysis for other ships or specific characters, because for that then Daroach stole Magolor's Lors, Taranza kidnapped DDD again or even the fact that people never questioned Meta knight wanted to conquer Dreamland by force and even kill Kirby in the process, but there you see him being one of the most beloved characters and that's FINE ,like,its not a bad thing it is.

With all honesty to you and many others,people don't owe you explanations or make you a document explaining the lore of how they redeemed Susie and the 1 billionth interaction of how Meta knight began to feel love for her to justify TO YOU or the fandom why they have made a cute drawing of them kissing, it's stupid, you don't know the people who are behind those those drawings to judge why they made it or if they maybe know or not know what Susie has or has not done

Not to mention that you yourself mischaracterize part of the lore of robobot and simplify many things in the game to x thing when it is much more, the same that the fandom has also done it with the characters, but it's the same, they are fictional characters that almost never speak, the kirby saga is for you to have fun and image how things work,hecc there is multiple versions od the same characters,the animes,the novels,the different mangas,all for you to explore and have with it and that's it

This is for something for everyone who might read this and is: it's complete okay that you DON'T like the ship, it's reasonable! You even maybe can like X thing but maybe feel uncomfortable with many others,is a respecteable decision and should always be!

You don't have to force yourself to like it, but, simply BLOCK THE CONTENT, tumblr has the option to block content that you don't like or people directly, it's much healthier for you to do that, whether it's with this ship, metadede, or metaxmymom, take care of your own health and do yourself the favor of ignoring something that objectively doesn't do any harm or because I've always seen it except for two people, there is no malicious content and you yourself make your own day go worse

also to the writer of the post... i genuine don't know who are those people who you are talking about cause,neither is see people doing it because...is ...straight???? like bisexual people exist,first that,and people doesn't do stuff to go agaisnt popular stuff,what are we,edgy teenagers of the 2000s... 😭

Phew i said lot,may you block me for my opinion i don't have an issue with you for it,but,just let it go 😭

Guys, I really need to rant about Metasusie rn. Like, I don't dislike thoses who ship it, but I have such an absolutly visceral hatred for the ship itself my hands are literally trembling right now. If you dont wanna hear me rambling about how much I hate it, then just pass. Chances are I won't be very polite and organised.

So as time progresses I keep seeing more Metasusie. I feel like now's a great time to remind people why this ship is so controversial in the first place by explaining why I and so many others dislike it. Here I go...

Okay. First off. Why the heck would you ship two characters if the only thing we know ever happened beetween them is one of them at the very least ordering (possibly more) the other to be captured, modified and enslaved against his will, and the others time we see thgem together, he literally can't interact of his own because of that, while she is either about to force him to exterminate his own friend, or she is straight up presenting him like he's a non sentient toy she's about to sell ??? Along with fact that Susie calls MK an it in the second cutscene , and that the only time we ever see them interact in game (albeit possibly not canon) is him running away from her, and her chasing him ?! The fact that some people wiew that as a cool starter to a ramantic relationship is is worrying to me.

I feel like some people ship Metasusie out of spite, if that makes sense. They see a ship that's hated on a lot and they want to play devil's advocate. I understand, really (my own "devil" has black, torn off wings) . But even then you still have to consider what makes the devil hated in the first place. There's a lot of wrong in this ship you just can't ignore.

Most of the fans ship them for natural reasons ; because they look cute together, or because of their common points, and they usually just ignore the implications it has. This is understandable, again, but, if you want to ship those two in a cute way, you have to staight up rip away all the unethical stuff. To do that, you have to undermine Susie's terrible actions (or pretend it never happened), to make her cute, to ignore her character. In other words, you have to woobify her. For Meta Knight, it's no less bad, because he's a victim of mechanisation, like many others, and implying it was'nt that important is just kinda dumb (If that was the case, why would the Haltman company be the game's villains anyways ?) . When I say you can't ship those two in that way, I mean that you have to either mischaracterize them heavily, or retcon what happened beetween them to make it work.

That, or they're sometimes homophobes who want to latch on the first heterosexual ship they see. They make those two stereotypical depiction of both genders. Those, are the absolute worse, for obvious reasons, and albeit they're not the only ones who turn Meta Knight and Susie into people they're not, they always do it in the worst possible way : making MK a strong, masculine knight character who can't feel pain and Susie a cute, feminine and smart scientist who needs to be protected and can do no wrong, so the pink character and the blue character are the most gratingly stereotypic ship to ever exist. I see it often, wether intentional or not. It's so wrong and sexist in both way and is probably the worst iteration of the ship to ever exist. Men can feel pain and have trauma, and women can do fucked up things for fucked reason and be fucked up.

This ship has yet another infortunate message. The Haltmans are obviously a metaphor for colonialists. A colonialist having romantic relationship with a person who was colonised, is basically what this ship is. And if you know the slightest bit about that in history, you've probably understood why I feel so icky about this ship, knowing this is a possible comparison.

There's also those who ship one sided, fucked up Metasusie. This is maybe the one of the two only ways to ship those two without mischaracterisation, and the only one I actally like. Not only because I love angst, but also because it actually acknowledges that the slavery, the kidnapping, the mind control, the colonisation, all of that, is fucked up, and that it should'nt be a relationship. (My own interpretation of this, if it interest you, is that Susie has such horrible trauma with her father that she does'nt know what a healthy relationship is anymore. In the absence of her father, she goes to the only person she has a speck of admiration for, and thinks it's love. In her skewed idea of love, the partner has to follow blindly what she says and constantly be under her control, so when he resists, she just think he needs to be "tamed" more. Meanwhile, MK is traumatised and just wants to escape. Eventually she learns that it's more coping than loving and leaves him alone.)

Altough. Some of those people treat the ship, in its unhealthy form, as a good thing. To them Soos and MK are inhuman people who love by hating. But like, unheatlthy relationships are not a good thing. I only like toxic Metasusie if it's treated as a bad thing.

Finally, some shippers actually give both Susie and Meta Knight character arcs, where she comes to understand she is wrong and he learns how to forgive her/cope with his trauma. Not my cup of tea, but honestly, that's based. Altough I like it (moderatly), I just don't understand why you'd ship that over stuff like Metadedede, where the characters have an at least friendly relation in canon.

That was long, but in the end, if I can't understand fully why it's shipped, I can stand Metasusie if it acknowledge both character's flaws and and Susie's terrible actions. It does'nt happen often however, as most instances I see are sadly just idealised, woobified, mischaracterised versions of them randomly loving eachother without context. I won't (and can't) stop people from shipping them that way, but I'll keep being against it.

Wow, after this, I actually kinda feel better. I ended up being more polite than I thought, too. I guess I needed to get this out of my chest somehow...

[teddybeartoji]

also:3333333333

[icewindandboringhorror]

A little costume with eyebrow whiskers again.. making their return lol..

[lith-myathar]

.

[gloriousmonsters]

it's fascinating to see people running the exact same scripts as trensmeds/exclusionists but for mental illness.

I just crossed paths with a post that was a screenshot of a tiktok where someone was clearly frustrated because 'I thought I might have autism but when I tried to bring it up with my therapist she said she literally wouldn't discuss it with me because 'everyone thinks they have it because of tiktok', and the original poster/about 90% of the notes were... celebrating this. Either variations on 'lol based psych' and 'she was right' or people explicitly saying shit like:

'Well, I was trans diagnosed with autism/adhd before it was cool and trendy! I can't believe that the diagnostic criteria is getting made stricter, it's the fault of those transtrenders tiktok kids who pretend to have mental illnesses. I get to gatekeep because I really suffered!'

(Shoutout to the confusing outlier who sagely was like 'and usually they just have bpd' in the tags. just???? just, my fair sir? also source???)

And like. It makes sense and is also so incredibly frustrating for the same reasons as transmed/exclus stuff. When you're a hurt person stuck interacting with a system that makes a lot of decisions about your personal autonomy/function, it messes with your head. It taps into that particular reaction to trauma that there was that one great post about--the mindset you get in when you see people get help when you didn't, and get furious and often default to 'it shouldn't be so easy' or 'why should they get help when I didn't?' And if you're struggling with a system that is, lbr, way more about luck in what specific people you got to talk to than any kind of well-built system, which is historically very flawed and still very flawed... well, a lot of people don't want to admit the system is a crapshoot and the people in it can be wrong so, so often, because then what about my diagnosis? my confirmation that I am what I am? fuck kids with stargenders and self-dxed teenagers with autism, I suffered for this, you can't take it away from me.

Which they aren't. If diagonistic criteria for anything is being made stricter, that's not on tiktok teens, it's on the people who write the criteria and decided that this was how they were going to handle an uptick in people thinking they are/might be autistic. If people are passing anti-trans legislation, that's because they're transphobes, not because of demigirls and non-op trans people. And are all of these kids queer, or mentally ill/ND, in the way they think they are? Probably not. Being a teenager is fucking confusing and often traumatic, and it's also a time when most of them are investigating and trying to build their identities. But I'm willing to bet that almost all are genuinely struggling with something/deviate from 'the norm'; if you want to stop kids from 'believing they're something wrongly' maybe focus your energy on putting the message out that it's ok to be wrong about things, that self-discovery is a process-- in this specifically, how to interact with mental health diagnoses and manage your symptoms, no matter where they stem from, in helpful ways, etc etc.

But please do the bare minimum and don't let personal pain turn you into a bitter, smug asshole who celebrates when they see kids experiencing gatekeeping that could really, really fuck them over, OK? Like physical disability and queer identity, the few 'fakers' you'll 'catch' by being cruel and suspicious will in no way be worth the people dead because only people who REALLY need help should be able to get it.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[mishkakagehishka]

Finally using the products my dermatologist recommended me hashtag helth hashtag skinkéa hashtag. I don't know

[pallases]

worst idea ever but what if i did an english major after all

[clonewarsahsoka]

My nervous system has been soooo fucked the last few days due to #Emotions!