#hope becomes dangerous; hope gets you hurt

[epicmusings0101]

Ithaca combines everything else

I'm in actual state of shock over the ending of Odysseus arc.

I figured that it was going that way but to see it happening feels like a dream. Ithaca pretty much stands on its own with its themes and with its premise.

Ithaca is about Troy Saga: The tipping moment that incites change.

The Cyclops saga: Mercy without any thought, at any costs. About consequences and actions and reactions.

The Ocean saga: About doubt and death, about the first effect in a chain of events.

The Circe Saga: About the dangers of striking first and not having any thoughts on mercy.

The Underworld saga: The moment where a man becomes a monster.

The Thunder Saga: The inevitability of fate, the thought that you can control what happens to you and the choices when you can't.

The Wisdom Saga: About learning to open the heart and to wish for better from people.

The Vengence Saga: The danger of resentment and grudges.

The Ithaca Saga:

Is about the ripple event that leads to change, that makes a man kill a child and that has that become his first moment of change. Is about the dangers of blind mercy and kindness.

Is about the distrust of our peers and those we should trust. Is about changes and becoming a monster, is about killing and feeling remorse, is about kindness and wisdom, is about hope that one days thing can change, is about keeping your friends close, is about sacrificing men, is about the inevitability of circumstances, is about Odysseus losing bit by bit every peace of himself along the way.

Until he's no longer a man and just a monster. It's the tipping point. Is the amalgamation of every pain and every hurt, of every trauma, of every heart break.

But it's also being proven that there's still a man there - a man unwilling to give up on love and on kindness- and that has lost himself but could be reminded of it in the end.

Is about him learning to let go of who he thought he had to be - a monster - when he's reminded of all the moments he has lived with his wife.

Is about the amalgamation of everything that has come before.

He gets to come home, he gets to be reminded of everything he has been through and has lived, and gets to understand that despite of all of it, he can still be a man.

He still has love.

[ro-is-struggling]

The hell we both made for each other || Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You love Matt with all your heart, but you can no longer put up with the risks of his double life.

Warnings: ANGST like so much fucking angst, there is no happy ending only tears. Also I wrote this with a fem!reader in mind but I don't think there is any direct mention to the reader's gender, so keep that in mind!

English is not my first language

Word count: 2000

He was late.

Again.

And he stumbled into your apartment, beaten and covered in blood.

Again.

You wanted to ask him to leave and find some other fool who was willing to tend to his wounds.

But you couldn't.

Seeing Matt in that state pained you, but it was also becoming a common sight. You were the one he went to after making his nightly rounds, beating up bad guys and saving innocent people in his attempt to make Hell's Kitchen a safer place. But as much as you wanted to help him heal his wounds and listen to his stories about the evil in the city, it was killing you inside.

Every night was a struggle. You would spend hours curled up on the couch, first aid kit resting on the coffee table next to your phone, waiting for news. Time stopped when the sun went down and didn't go back to normal until you saw the shadow of the Daredevil suit creeping up the hallway. The relief of seeing that he survived another night was always short-lived. The moment you heard his voice everything started moving way too fast as you rushed to relocate his bones and close his wounds before he bled to death in your living room.

Living like this was exhausting, but there was nothing you could do about it. The alternative was to get out of his life before the pain became too overwhelming, but that would only make things worse. Seeing him hurt broke your heart, but spending the night not knowing what had become of him on the streets would drive you crazy.

The most frustrating part of it all was that you had gotten yourself into this, so you had no one to blame for the void you felt in your chest every time Matt was out. You had been the one to offer to patch him up after he saved you from those drunken men who got really handsy with you that one time. You had let a complete stranger into your home, and not only that, but you had allowed him to come back. You were the one who fell in love with him even though you knew what he did. It was all your fault, you had backed yourself into a corner that you didn't know how to get out of.

Matt had never lied to you or given you false hope. You knew very well that being Daredevil was extremely important to him. It was his mission, his calling, and you knew he wasn't going to give it up even if you asked him to. He couldn't do it, or rather, he didn't want to do it, so being with him meant accepting his bloody and dangerous side. And at first you thought you could do it, but now you weren't so sure.

“You're quiet,” Matt's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. It sounded raspy and you wondered if it was due to exhaustion or the screams of pain he'd probably let out when the wounds you were cleaning and bandaging were inflicted on him. “What's going through your head?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. You didn't want to get into an argument right then.

“I thought you knew better than to lie to me.” He let out a smug chuckle. “I can hear your breathing and your heartbeat, I know there's something on your mind.”

“I was thinking about you...about us, actually.” You simply stated, not taking your eyes off the wound on his chest that you were finishing stitching up. And from the tone of your voice Matt knew that the conversation that would follow would not be a pleasant one.

He spoke your name, both a warning and a plea for you to stop. He regretted pressing the issue now that he knew what was coming. You had a similar conversation only a few days ago and he wasn't sure he had the energy to face it again. Lately it felt like that was all you talked about and Matt didn't know what to do to make you happy without having to push the devil out of him.

“Why does it always have to be like this?” you interrupted him, taking off your bloodstained gloves and tossing them on the coffee table next to the other red-stained gauze. “You come home late and hurt and I have to sit here and patch you up while I pretend I wasn't going crazy thinking about what might be happening to you out there... I'm tired, Matt.”

“I told you you don't have to worry about me.” He reached for your hand, but you pulled it away. This wasn't something he could fix with gentle caresses and sweet words. You wouldn't let him this time. “I know what I'm doing out there.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Is that why you come home looking like that? Because you know what you are doing?”

“It's not always this bad and you know it... Once this is all clear I'll go back to fighting thieves and rapists in the streets and I'll come home a lot less hurt, you'll see. You don't have to worry about me.” That was a lie and you both knew it. There was always going to be something. If it wasn't Fisk, it was The Hand, The Yakuza, The Punisher or who knows what else. The danger would never stop, it would just keep escalating.

“Well, Matt, but I do! I worry about you, I do...because I care about you, and I can't stop thinking about what will happen the day I'm sitting here waiting for you and you don't walk through that door.” You held back the tears that were burning in your eyes even though you knew it was in vain, Matt could hear the change in the tone of your voice.

Matt's fingers found your jaw and he turned your head carefully to face him. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs tracing soft strokes over your skin. His tender touches made everything harder, it reminded you of all the good things about being with him that had outweighed the bad for a long time, but not anymore. A couple of tears escaped your eyes, but Matt wiped them away with his fingers.

“I will always find my way back to you.” He whispered and you wished you could believe him. You knew that's what he wished and that he truly loved you, but it wasn't something he could control.

“Don't make promises you can't keep.” You moved away from his touch, wiping your tears with the back of your hand before focusing your attention on arranging the first aid kit so you could put it away. You needed to distract yourself with something so as not to fall for his charms once again. The softness of his touch and the love in his words had persuaded you to silence your worries too many times in the past. You would not let it happen again this time.

“So what do you want me to do?” Matt's frustrated huff echoed in your ears.

You threw the first aid kit back on the table viciously and turned to look at him. You couldn't believe he was actually asking you that question.

“I want you to stop!”

“You know I can't do that. People need me, this city needs me.” Matt's voice was soft even though yours had risen a couple of notches.

“I need you!” You finally broke down, tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. You understood where he was coming from, but you were tired of Matt putting the whole city before you. You were hurt by his indifference, his lack of concern for your well-being. You were hurt by his lack of regard for his own life. You knew deep down he loved you, but the way he showed it wasn't working for you. The love you shared hurt you in a way that wasn't supposed to and you didn't know what else to do to change it.

“I can't keep living like this, Matt. I can't keep pretending everything is okay... I love you, but being with you every day feels like fighting a battle I can't win. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself little by little... I'm tired of being the one who cares the most about us, about your own life... this isn't going to end well and I don't want to be the one left behind to pick up the pieces. I can't.”

“I love you.” Matt's broken voice broke your heart. You didn't doubt it was true, but that wasn't enough. Love wasn't enough to keep your relationship afloat.

“No more than the devil.”

Matt didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't true, but there was no way he could explain how he felt about his alter ego that you were going to understand. Daredevil was his blessing and his curse. It was his purpose, the thing that gave him a place in the world and in God's plan, but it was also his punishment, the reason why everyone he loved turned away from him. He didn't love Daredevil, but he needed him, just like the innocent people of Hell's Kitchen did. He couldn't ignore his abilities and the pleas of a city engulfed in violence and corruption because if he did, then bad things would happen because of him, because he hadn't been there to stop them.

“What do we do now? We're out of options.” Matt mumbled in a breathy whisper after a long silence.

“I don't know what to do.” You let out a sigh, letting your tired body fall back against the back of the couch.

“Could you... hold me until we figure it out? Whatever you decide, just... give me this night with you.”

You watched him for a moment, your fingers reaching out to caress his cheek without even realizing what you were doing. There was something so tragic yet so tender in his words, it was the perfect summary of your relationship. You both knew it was over. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but the end was near. So you had to take advantage of the few sweet moments you had left, and express your love for each other while you still could.

You settled into Matt's arms without saying a word. Your head rested on his chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. He kissed the top of your head as he pulled you tight against him, trying to lose himself in the warmth of your body and the sweet scent of your hair. He wanted to memorize all the little things he loved about you, everything his enhanced senses allowed him to know about you without you knowing it. He didn't want to lose you, but he knew he would. You deserved someone so much better than him, someone who wouldn't hurt you the way he did. He could accept you leaving if it meant you would be happy, but he refused to forget you. So he spent the next few minutes memorizing the way the warmth of your body felt against his and how your soft skin reacted to the touch of his fingers. He paid special attention to the sound of your heartbeat and inhaled the scent of your hair as if it were the oxygen he needed to live. That way he could take you with him forever.

“I wish I had two lives, one for you and one for him.” Matt whispered against your hair and the corners of your lips curved with sadness.

“I wish I had two lives, both of them for you.”

As painful as it was, you couldn't imagine a life without Matt. You loved him, with all the good and all the bad. And even though you had spent the last few days repeating how hard it was for you to stay by his side, the truth was that you would still choose him even in another life. You wanted him by your side in every life you had and that was not going to change. Your heart was determined to break and put itself back together again if that was what it took to be with him.

Matt Murdock was and always would be the love of your life.

Matt Murdock's tag list: @steviebbboi @feel-my-psycho-love

[unsiredtribrid]

Do you guys ever think about how hollow and isolating certain things about Hope’s life must feel? When she was a little girl she was promised to be protected by her dad and treated like a princess and she had this image in her head of growing up and being a powerful witch and doing all of these things. And then she gets older, her parents + family members die/split off, ‘always and forever’ is dead in a way, most of the supernatural community either thought or still thinks she’s a danger to them, and then by Legacies we know that she also is faced with having to become immortal in order to stop something that’s going to kill what few friends she does have. She doesn’t want to be immortal. She’s been kind of an introvert and a loner and for all intents and purposes, her existence has been a huge disappointment. She doesn’t see being a vampire as some cool thing, she sees it as something that will at worst, make her more isolated because everyone thinks she’s a monster like her dad. And then that’s before you dig into what the trauma of Greta and Roman did to her. She was told that who she is is wrong and is going to hurt people. She’s been trying not to live up to all these horrible expectations everyone has of her because one of the things her family (propogated by Elijah and even Klaus when he tried to keep her from falling asleep to the Hollow) seemed to believe is that her existence would somehow fix everything and she would miraculously be a good person. So not only is becoming a vampire scary because she doesn’t want to become the worst version of herself and prove everyone right (therefore also reliving all of this trauma she has from other peoples’ expectations of her) but she also has to be alive forever in this sort of lonely state. She doesn’t have ‘normal’ things to look forward to that normal kids do. She’s been told her entire existence will suck for her and everyone else, actually. We even have the firstborn Mikaelson witch thing that posits she will suffer from the strength and uncontrollable quality of her magic. Idk… it’s just crazy how miserable and depressed she must be sometimes

[itsnobodysproblem]

Most Sherlock Holmes adaptations I've seen tend to place their Final Problem towards the mid point of the series (or even a bit earlier) - it's also in my opinion the best way of going about it, so you have time enough for the characters to adjust after the reunion but they know each other well enough for the events of Fina to be devastating.

Sherlock & Co is done with 20 of the adventures. How many are there? Fifty-something? Almost sixty? Let's say we'll be entering mid-point territory after the 25th story.

So let's pretend for a moment that we have 5 more stories until The Final Problem. Ok.

Estimating an adventure at 3 episodes each, that would mean little over 3 months - maybe 3 and a half? Starting, of course, from the end of Sign of Four, which will be somewhere in December.

So let's say 3, maybe 4 months into 2025. That would be, what? Late march, early april?

Early april?

John having to tell the listeners that Sherlock is dead, in early april?

Quick calendar search reveals what I was praying it would - the 1st of april will be on a Tuesday next year.

So what I'm saying

What I'm saying is Sherlock &Co has the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing

[hauntingblue]

Sanji crucified and getting punished by a giant spider lady for his sins against women....

[licorishh]

"Everyone's a little ADHD"

you should throw your cup full of water directly on the electrical socket and you should stick a fork in it and you should go run over to that stranger and kiss them cause hey you've never done that before and you should shout a curse word at the top of your lungs just to see what that person over there would do if you did and you should grab that butter knife you just put in the drawer and as a test to see if it'd work as well as a steak knife you should poke yourself in the shoulder would that feel funny? maybe i don't know now run away from home even if you have a great relationship with your parents tie yourself to a tree and wait and see if someone will notice you're gone snap your phone in half purposefully try to hyperextend your knee you've done it before and it didn't hurt that bad so why would it hurt to do it again? everyone is watching you it's so loud it's so bright you want to strangle that person over there because they're chewing too loudly and that light is flickering and your head is splitting open and if someone looks at you again you're gonna start crying but you're in a class you can't run out of the room you're stuck you're stuck you're trapped wait what did the teacher say? you missed that when was the due date she didn't write it down now you don't know what you need the bell is ringing the class is over the teacher is busy with other students you're still sitting here you're wasting time the next class is starting soon wait was there homework? probably not you would've written it down if there were so you can leave now you home you're tired wait did you eat lunch? no you didn't have time you're starving you make yourself a sandwich hey you should throw your cup of water directly on the electrical socket and you should stick a fork in it and you should throw your sandwich on the floor so you have to remake it again or you could leave it there and let the dog eat it even though you know it would make him incredibly sick wait your mom is calling you you forgot to do the dishes ok stop making the sandwich do the dishes finish the dishes check your phone oh that artist posted! scroll through pinterest an hour goes by you forgot to eat the meat and cheese are still out and they're probably spoiled you put them back in the fridge and hope your parents won't notice and now it's time to go to bed and your head hits the pillow and you drift off to sleep and morning comes and it happens again and again and again.

But sure, "Everyone's a little ADHD."

[slightly-knot-insane]

Chained

He's been hungry for too long, starving for your touch and smell and taste. But he can't have you - not today. He is too wild and uncontrollable. He could hurt you so badly from the sheer force of his need. The rut is boiling his blood. That's why he's chained.

"Stay away!" His breath is hoarse. "Stay... away."

But it's so hard to look at him like this. He is drooling and panting, and you can see his cock throbbing. He is slowly transforming and his knot is red and heavy, glistening from sweat.

You know how dangerous he is. He could rip you with those claws and long fingers as if you're a paper tissue. His body is huge, warm, pulsating. You lick your lips feeling your core getting moist. You rub your thighs.

His eyes bulge. "Are you..." He can smell you. He can smell your arousal and your adrenaline heating up your body. "Are you insane?"

"Calm down. You will stay tied down. I will just... help you let off steam."

You kneel in front of him, push his thighs apart to admire his big throbbing cock with ease. It's almost purple, ready to explode, moist from precum. The veins that decorate the shaft are pulsating from hot blood rushing through them. It looks so... delicious. And the knot at the base... It's so big and firm and smooth.

You take it in your hand and hungrily look upward. His mouth is open, sweat dripping from his brow, eyes lustful and hopeful. He wants to say something, but he can't. He just stares at you, at your mouth.

You kiss his knot, gently, rubbing your lips against his cock's skin, not breaking eye contact. He swallows hard and carefully watches as you plant pecks along his shaft to his glans. Once you lick his tip, the chains rattle from his arms trying to move, and he grunts. "Nnnng... this is not... helping."

You giggle. Poor guy. Well, he deserves a little treat. You open your mouth and take his whole glans into it. It's so big that you almost can't breathe. But you've been practicing. He sighs a deep sigh, lifting his head upwards with eyes closed, enjoying your touch. His teeth are getting sharper and longer. They are so beautiful, you think to yourself.

You push your hand down your panties and into your wetness, thoroughly dampening each and every finger. You lift your hand up, offering your lewdness. He immediately snaps his head downward, his nostrils wide, chains shaking and ringing, and slurps your fingers into his mouth. You both moan, tasting each others arousals.

He licks your fingers like they are popsicles, collecting every drop of your juices and groans as you start sucking his glans, jacking him off with your other hand. He's too big for you to put him completely down your throat. You need practice - a lot more practice - to swallow his cock entirely. But, for now, this will do. And he's not complaining.

As you pump him, now with both hands, and suck him off, his chains shake, moving in rhythm with bobbing of your head like an instrument. He growls, moans and pants, and you know he won't last long. With a howl, he orgasms into your mouth and you let some of his seed down your throat, but you let the rest spray you, covering your face, neck and chest with thick cum.

He jerks his hips once, twice, and as soon as he empties his balls all over your skin, he looks at you.

"Oh my." He smiles, breathless. "You did such a good job."

"Did I?" You beam licking his seed off your upper lip.

"Mmhm... But guess what?" His grin becomes even wider. Alarmingly so. "My chains broke."

[anonymous-existences]

@demonic0angel I blame you(affectionately) for this idea.

Remember the City Spirit Prompt? What if it was a ship and a larger concept.

DCxDP prompt 11 :

Danny becomes Gotham's City Spirit after being taken under Lady Gotham's wing, Danny becomes the city's second spirit, the shadow that always watches, the star that seemed to glow with hope in a crime ridden city such as Gotham.

Danny is living the Double Life as being protected heavily by Lady Gotham because why would she let anyone hurt her little baby, Danny is in college and this can be a ship for any of the bats but today I prefer Dead Tired.

Danny is East End's Cryptid Neighbor, No one really knows why he lives in east end despite having enough money to strive in the much wealthier parts of Gotham, he doesn't get in danger and sometimes it's almost as if the Darkness of the shadows wrap around his protectively like a mother cradling it's infant.

Danny becomes the street's handy man as he can fix almost anything on the spot without charge, he goes to college on a scholarship and the weather seems to become lighter and clearer around him, he has a very light presence that can make even the most violent of thugs soften up in care for the boy.

Tim and Danny happen to meet by coincidence in a coffee shop, they become friends and Red Robin stalksobserves him from afar and they happen to attend the same college and there Tim finds out tidbits of his past, parent's laboratory hazard, Sister somewhere away to college too but they got into a fight so they're not in contact right now, One older brother and one little sister.

Tim is noting all of and everything Danny tells him, like the smitten bastard he is. Danny is still a City Spirit, he knows who the bats are but he doesn't mind, as their relationship progresses Danny at some point is forced to intervene as a physical manifestation of Gotham's City Spirit of Resilience and Hope. Danny's and Tim's relationship becomes much like Ponyo's Mom and Dad type of relationship.

Danny is the Mom, Gorgeously Mesmerizing, a form so majestic and Astral and Tim his lover and he who cares deeply for him. The bats at first will be concerned but they can't stop them from loving each other and Lady Gotham unbeknownst to them, supports this whole thing.

[timmydraker]

During a patrol in Gotham one night, Red Robin comes across a strange sight.

A young woman stands over a crumpled body with a sling shot primed and ready, aimed a man with a rather large hand gun. It’s clear she’s protecting the woman who looks like she’s been hit over the head and had her bag nabbed, as it’s ripped and contents are spilled everywhere.

The girl sits shaking, she isn’t scared at all, standing strong with a shard of glass aimed at the man’s crotch.

Tim jumps down and disarms the man smoothly before turning to the young girl, who upon closer inspection seems to be around thirteen years old.

“Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head and stares at him for a moment with awe in his eyes before her eyes widen and she turns to the person behind her, “But she is! That guy was cornering her and I tried to help but he hit her and-“

“Alright, I understand. Would you like to help me get her to the ER a few blocks away?”

The girl nods with a determination Tim remembers seeing in Dick and Jason in their Robin days and he smiles.

He doesn’t ask her what her name is because side he knows he’ll follow up and find something to feel guilty about, but the girl seems to have her own plans.

She shows up a couple of days later, standing on a tall building with a cheap Robin outfit on.

Tim is confused before he drops down and she gives a big grin and mock salute, “How can I help?”

Tim smiled a little before shaking his head, “Taking the title of Robin, are you?”

She nods, now more bashful, “Well, I want to help people. I don’t want to fight exactly, but… well, sometimes you bats are too busy with the villains to notice the little guy and- bro to say you’re a bad hero-“

“You’re right, it’s okay. We can only do so much and sometimes preventing more damage being done saves more lives, but there will always be a cost.”

She smiles, bright orange, and impressively curly, hair getting in her eyes and sticking to the poor quality glue of her fake domino.

“I want to help. I… can help, please.”

Tim answers after a solid minute of silence, “What is your name?”

She frowns, “Aren’t I supposed to have a secret identity?”

He smiles in answer, “Yes, but I know what you look like and I can find out, I’m asking out of politeness.”

The girl looks like she could pout and Tim feels strangely old at the sight, even if he’s still got a few months before he can even legally drink.

“Carrie. Caroline to be specific.”

Tim smiles, “Well, Carrie, here’s the deal. I will meet you here or somewhere like here every night and until, and only until, you can land a hit on me will I agree to let you help.”

While Carrie doesn’t look pleased she nods, a clear sense of hope in her eyes even as she looks nervous.

She looses the first fight, and the second and third and fourth, but she gets better and better.

Tim doesn’t tell anyone about Carrie Kelly, nor does he tell her that he does end up doing a back ground check and finds two dead beat parents more focused on weed than their incredibly skilled daughter.

When she proves to be relentless in her desire to save lives he sends her to a teacher to help her stay hidden and safe. He’s not like Bruce, he doesn’t send her overseas to some dangerous people, but close by and to someone he trust to not hurt her nor tell anyone else about the strange young girl whose managed to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Selina Kyle is more than happy to take in the girl when she watches her sling shot fire crackers at muggers.

When Carrie comes back and meets Tim on a rooftop, she not only manages to hit him but knocks him off his feet.

Tim grins at her, pride filling his mind and making him understand Bruce just a little more.

But unlike Bruce, he isn’t throwing her into the fight at all.

Tim Drake is the one who pays for her school pills while her yippie parents refuse to work or spend money on her, and sends her real time footage of medical lectures in various collages across the country.

Carrie doesn’t become Robin, nor did she even wear that suit after the second night and he gave her a basic training outfit that properly covered her eyes and hair, but she does become something else.

She becomes Cardinal, the vigilante that swoops in to save civilians and provide the medical care that saves hundreds of people and allows the ambulances and hospitals to have a chance.

When she makes her debut the other bats worry about a new kid making bad choices, probably inspired by them, but Tim ignores it if only because he’s actually proud of her and trust her in a way he hasn’t trusted teammates in years.

After a year of this, a young girl asks for a meeting with Mister Tim Drake at his company and, purely so he wouldn’t have to do more pointless numbers, he lets her in after she passes the security check.

The girl who comes into his office is barely ten, cute little clips in her dark bob hair and a big book bag almost half her size behind her.

Tim recognised her instantly once he sees the bright yellow shoes she’s wearing.

This little girl, name Mia Mizoguchi, has been stalking him and Carrie for a few months now.

After he enrolled Carrie at Gotham Academy, the young girl nicknamed ‘Maps’ had been asking Carrie a lot of questions. Carrie had been good at avoiding incriminating answers, but had fallen for the younger girls clever trap as she casually spoke out infomation that could help with cases and Carrie delivered it back to Tim.

As soon as he realised that Maps had done exactly what he had done and figured out who Carrie was he was impressed. Because even if Carrie was new to the game, she had a skill for tricking people into looking away from her and had done well to stay low.

Maps had made the connection back to Tim, apparently.

Luckily, unlike Bruce, he wasn’t ignorant to their little stalker and actually knew her family from a few galas and charities. To be fair, Tim also wasn’t clouded by grief, but as he lets the girl explain how she totally doesn’t know who Red Robin is but if she did know who he was she would want him to know that a new drug trade route was actually being covered by a cotton candy company and she has over sixty pages worth of proof.

When he shows up to The Nest (named by Carrie) with Maps behind him, he finds Cardinal waiting with an excited gleam in her eyes.

Due to her being so young, Tim doesn’t allow Maps to go into the field until she’s the same age as both he and Carrie were, but she’s quick to show her worth taking over coms and doing an insanely detailed level of detective work that Tim can’t help but be a little jealous of.

Just like Carrie, who has been trying with Selina about only becoming Catgirl if Catwoman stops being a criminal for a few weeks now, he sends her to someone else for mentor ship.

Maps is a sweet girl, but she loves to talk and has a lot of friends who have most of the same interest, so he sends her to the one bat member he trust most.

Cassandra Cain immediately tells Tim that he has to adopt both of them and can’t quite understand why them both having living parents matters.

It’s Cass who gives Maps her vigilante name, Sparrow.

[yuujispinkhair]

okay questionable thoughts… Hybrid Tiger Sukuna… But… what if we gave him catnip? Cus I’ve seen videos of it working on tigers and I’m a bit cray cray-

Oh nooo!!! This drives me all kinds of FERAL!! I wrote the following in a horny daze lmaoo. I would give so much to be Tiger Hybrid Sukuna's owner who gets that gorgeous tiger-cock ;) Thank you so much for sending me this!!

Tiger Hybrid!Sukuna x Reader (female). 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, mentions of breeding + risk of pregnancy if reader gives Sukuna more catnip in the future, dubcon on both sides, drugs. Minors don't interact. Divider @/hitobaby

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is usually so in control, acting all aloof and majestic. But you give him catnip, and he loses all that control. You thought it would be cute to see him loosen up and become more playful, but you didn't expect him to become so wild.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who tackles you to the floor with a needy growl. Who presses you down with his heavy body, his large tail swishing from side to side excitedly, his pupils blown wide, his hot spit dripping down onto your neck. And his large bulge growing hard against your ass.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who loses his ability to talk in the state he is in now and just growls and purrs while he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, his lips and tongue and sharp canines leaving their marks on your skin while he ruts against you, needy like never before.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who scares you a bit when he goes crazy like that. This big, strong half-tiger, with those strong muscles and the sharp teeth and claws. And with that huge, strong cock. But your fear mixes with arousal, and you find yourself hoping your tiger will claim you thoroughly tonight.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who isn't even in the right mind to undress you but just tears at his and your clothes, ripping them to shreds in his primal need to mount you.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pushes his hot, fat cock between your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal, grunting and growling wildly against your neck while he ruts his throbbing tiger-cock against your heated cunt.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who bites your neck when he pushes his leaking cock into your dripping cunt, groaning loudly against your skin, instantly starting a punishing rough pace of fucking you. Mounting you so wild and hard right there on the floor.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who is so sexy like that, out of control, wild and feral like never before. More animal than man. Who snaps his hips fast and erratically, purely driven by his animal instinct to fuck and breed and fill a mate with his potent seed.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who holds you down and keeps his teeth on your neck while he fucks all his tiger-cum deep into you. Growling loudly while he mates you as if you are his fertile tigress.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who makes you lose control, too, pushing your ass needily against him, wanting all his hot seed and the feel of his heavy balls slapping against you. Making you squeal loudly when you cum all over his fat tiger-cock.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who pulls out of you with a low groan and then kneels on the floor behind you with a blissed-out expression on his beautiful face, not as feral anymore but still high on the catnip. His gorgeous cock softening but still glistening with your creamy juices and his milky seed, his dark pink tip still swollen.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, whose whole muscular body trembles lightly as the effects of the catnip wear off. Whose long, pretty tail is twitching suddenly when those glowing red eyes bore into yours with a dangerous glint in them.

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who growls at you, "Never do that again!" And when you ask him why, he glares at you and is like, "Because who knows what I'll do next time. Maybe I'll breed you until you have my cubs."

++ Tiger Hybrid Sukuna, who calms down again when you tell him you are ok, and he didn't hurt you. Who finally purrs when you scratch him behind his ears and at the base of his pretty tiger tail and promise him that you won't give him catnip ever again, even though you quite enjoyed his wild side.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii

Can you do something about the batboys (specially Tim and Damian cuz they are my fav)?

With a reader who loves hugs, like A LOT

And it is simply spontaneous to want to hug.

Dick

He loves your spontaneity and your hugs.

He finally has someone who can eagerly accept his out of nowhere hugs by reciprocating with your own hugs.

You have a hug off to see who can hug the other the most as it never fails to make both of your days better, and it acts like a really good pick me up when you both need it most.

Dick could stay in your arms forever if he could and hopes that you feel the same as it acts as a way of communicating without the usage of words. Dick can convey how he felt to you in certain situations throughout all types of hugs possible.

Tight hugs for when he thought he wasn’t going to come back home to you, or when he fears that you wouldn’t love him anymore or for times where he just needed to feel you against him.

Soft, gently, comforting hugs for when he feels like being more affectionate with you, maybe even playful and or wanting to just show you that he cares about you as while he’s a charmer, meaningful words tend to fail him on multiple occasions.

Protective, ‘don’t touch them or else’ hugs where he keeps a tight and firm grip on you as he pushes your head into his neck while he poetically cocoons you in his arms as to keep you out of sight of anyone he thinks is no good for you.

Other then them, dick will always await for you with open arms almost instinctively, knowing he’s going to get the best hug of a lifetime as thought you haven’t seen each other in a long time and not five minutes. Dick just loves you and your spontaneous hugs.

Damian

Fight instincts are strong in Damian.

So when you first try to hug him, his sword was drawn within inches of your face as fast as you could blink. He’d never hurt you, no. It’s just that his body was tuned to react within seconds to any potential danger against him, and unfortunately his mind made him think that your hugs were threats.

So once he realises what he had done on impulse, he apologise and sheathed his sword and tells you that he’s not yet use to your kind of affection due to his upbringing and that he’ll try to become accustomed to it eventually; Which he does but his response to your hugs is rather stiff and almost robotic but you were more then happy to take what you get, and if this is the most he can do right now then you’ll accept it.

However when he does start to get use to your hugs and doesn’t feel like he has to draw his sword every time, but he tends to melt into your touch like a stray cat being shown love for the first time. He closes his eyes and burrows his head into your neck as he tightened his grip on you, as though you’d vanish if he were to ever let up his hold.

He doesn’t want you to hug him in public, he’s not comfortable with it as he would when you’re hugging him in private, but he couldn’t fault you if you were to hug him after an highly emotional moment where you thought you’d loose him, Damian understands but he just prefers to have you hug him in private overall.

It also lessens the teasing potential for his brothers and he gets the alone time with you like he so wished for.

Tim

Finds comfort and reassurance in your hugs.

Seriously your hugs are what Tim needs after a long and arduous mission alongside his brothers and sisters.

He doesn’t even flinch at how out of the blue your hugs are, he just accepts your hugs no matter what and will sigh heavily as he practically falls asleep in your arms.

Please help this man get some proper sleep for once in his life, the detective stuff can wait, it’s not going to go anywhere anytime soon just please take a break.

He’s more then reciprocal of your hugs and appreciates the love you pour into them as they help ease the worries within his head as he rests his head against yours, allowing himself to slow down and appreciate what was in front of him.

Your hugs -despite their spontaneity- have a calming affect on him and they worked wonders for when he needs sleep as his mind tends to keep him up at night. So now with you it’s a bit more bearable as you would cradle his head to your chest, letting him focus in on your breathing and your heart until that’s all the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep.

Jason

It takes Jason some time to get use to your spontaneous hug feasts. At first he flinches and almost shies away from your hugs as he doesn’t acquaint any physical contact as soft, or warm or comforting like you did. In fact he viewed it as the opposite.

So it takes time for Jason to become comfortable with your spontaneous hugs and once he stops flinching and shying away from them, he grows addicted to your hugs and awaits each and every time that you decided he looked like he needed a little hug or cuddle.

He -much like Damian- would melt into your hugs, tighten his grip on you and would find that everything fades away the moment he’s in your arms; His mind clears of all stress and all he can think about was how perfect each and every one of your hugs were every single time.

He also never wants to leave your embrace, ever, he just refuses and claims he needs five more minutes in your arms and would groan in annoyance if you were to attempt to pull away.

‘Stop moving away from me.’ He’d groan. ‘You wanted to hug me so hug me!’

You chuckle at him whenever he got like this but oblige to his wishes regardless as you didn’t have to heart to stop hugging Jason when he’s practically clinging onto you like a koala bear. So you just remain where you are until five minutes become a full day and you and Jason are shuffling towards the bedroom together to cuddle until you feel asleep.

Needles to say Jason grows to love your hugs however they come and when they come, for they help him get through the day.

Bruce

He’s not use to your hugs yet either and it takes him just as long-if not longer- as Jason to get use to them overtime.

His muscles would tense and that’s about it.

He’s use to being hugged by the likes of Jason and Damian and Dick when he got older but your hugs were different then theirs, and sooner or later Bruce had developed a sixth sense for whenever you’re going to hug him, and would smile to himself whenever he heard your footsteps and little giggles before bracing himself for you hug.

‘You heard me didn’t you.’ You’d always ask and without hesitation Bruce replied with in a playful manner; ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about my dear.’ Which only made you pout as you tightened your grip on him while burrowing your face into his broad back.

There would even be times where you’re about to hug him, but Bruce moves just in times as you were going to hug his waist and stares at you for a bit before opening his arms and letting you run into his chest. He doesn’t mind your hugs now and then when he’s not busy as he doesn’t like neglecting you for his work; So he tries to at least let you get all your hugs out while you could before he had to indulge in his work that takes up a huge amount of his time.

Like Damian he likes to have you hug him in private, he’s a well know public figure and Gotham isn’t exactly safe and so he prioritised your safety above all else. So while he’ll interlock his pinky with yours or have your arm locked in his in public, he’ll let you hang off of him as reward in private while he rests his hands over your own in means of keeping you there.

Alfred finds it sweet seeing Bruce be affectionate with you and probably has a picture where Bruce is embracing you fully, his head resting atop of yours while your face was smothered against his chest, your face bearing the widest smile possible in comparison to Bruce’s face of calm serenity.

[sevikasdoll]

sevika x fem reader |

Word count : 2.7k

Tags : touch deprived reader , like SUPER touch deprived , touchy sevika , dom!sevika, being called a pet , slight pet play? , normal amount of possessive sevika :) , LOTS of teasing & begging , praising , breeding KINK , fingering , sevika is strapped 24/7 , grinding fully clothed , sevika is kinda evil lol , reader is really weak & submissive , hair pulling , gf!sevika , melting!reader , reader is shy tbh

Summary : you ask sevika to braid your hair . . . And get more than what you bargained for.

Note : haii this is my first official written piece hah.. i am very new to writing full stuff. sevika brainrot is taking over and i just have sm to write about. i also didnt proof read this… i hope you guys enjoy!!

As Sevika braided your hair, she leaned in close, her voice a deep, husky murmur in your ear. "You look adorable with your hair like this," she said, her fingertips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "So perfect and cute. Just like a little pet." She continued to braid, her touch gentle yet possessive. "I could just keep you like this all day, you know," she added, a possessive gleam in her eyes. "All mine, to do with as I please." With each pass of her fingers through your hair, Sevika's possessiveness became almost tangible.

You couldn’t even focus on whatever you had been talking about that day, with her fingers gently gliding through your hair. The possessiveness in her voice sent a shiver down your spine, her breath warm against your skin.

You tried to stay still, but your face began to heat up at the mere thought of being hers. She definitely noticed.

When she leaned in closer to speak in your ear, her voice so soft and possessive, you could feel yourself melt under her touch. Her words were almost like a taunt, making your heart beat a little faster. With the braids now in place, Sevika couldn't resist the urge to tug gently on your hair.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She loved seeing your reaction, the slight hitch in your breath and the way your body reflexively leaned towards her.

“So responsive,” she murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction. “Such a good girl.”

Sevika continued to tug on your hair, her touch becoming more firm but still careful not to hurt you. Yet. As she tugged, she watched as you instinctively leaned closer, your body responding to her like a well trained pet.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asked, her tone almost like a threat. “Like it when I’m in control, don’t you?”

You knew what she wanted to hear, the way she looked down at you with that dominant gleam in her eye, and you nodded slowly.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I like it when you’re in control, Sevika...”

“Good doll.” she purred, her eyes darkening with desire. Her eyes raked over your body, taking in every subtle twitch and movement. Then suddenly, she yanked harder on your hair, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your skin. Her fingers released your hair, and instead traced along your jawline.

“You look so good like this,” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. “Helpless and at my mercy...”

With her hand still on your chin, Sevika commanded you to move onto her lap. There was no room for debate; she was clearly in control. You complied, shifting your weight and finding yourself straddling her thighs. Her mechanical hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer so that you were practically pressed against her.

“Much better,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “Right where you belong, on my lap.”

Every nerve in your body was on fire as you found yourself grinding slowly on Sevika’s lap. You were acutely aware of every inch of her body, the heat, the muscled planes of her thighs, the way her hands were running up and down your sides.

Your breathing was ragged, your cheeks flushed, and you were so sure she could tell how flustered you were. It was painfully obvious.

“S-Sevika,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I-“

“So timid,” Sevika teased, her hands continuing to exploring your body, each touch sending sparks through you. “You’re shaking like a leaf, pet. Can’t even finish what you’re going to say?” She seemed to enjoy the way she affected you, the way you were coming undone in her lap. Her touch grew more possessive as she pulled you closer, her lips centimeters from yours.

Unable to form coherent words, you managed a shaky, “Sevika...please...” Sevika's lips curled into a smirk as she looked up at you, enjoying the way you fell apart in her lap. The sound of your shaky plea sent a bolt of desire through her, and her grip on you tightened.

“Please what, doll?” she asked, taunting you. “Use that pretty voice of yours and tell me.”

Your mind was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the heat of Sevika's body and the huskiness of her voice. Her hands on your hips were like a promise, a reminder that she could take you apart anytime she wanted. You swallowed hard, trying to regain some control over yourself. “Please,” you managed, your voice a breathless whisper. Your face flushed, your whole body overheating under Sevika's intense gaze.

Trying to find your voice. "Please, I need you."

Sevika's lips curled into a dangerous smile at your words. "That's not good enough, doll," she purred. "I want to hear you begging."

Your breath hitched at her words, your face burning with embarrassment and desire. You had never begged anyone before, had never felt the need to. But there was something about Sevika, this dominant force that made your heart race and your mind turned to mush too easily.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a hoarse whisper. "I need you, Sevika. T-touch me. I'll do anything for you, just please.…"

Even as she heard the desperation in your voice, Sevika still wasn't satisfied. She wanted more. Needed more.

She grabbed your hips, her fingers gripping them hard enough to leave bruises, and pulled you even closer, forcing you to lean heavily against her.

“I said I wanted you to beg,” she said, her voice dripping with command. “I want to hear you pleading. Whimpering. Begging. You can do better than that, sweetheart.”

You could only let out a desperate whimper at her command, your body trembling as you tried to find your voice. Your mind was already fuzzy, your thoughts centered on her and her alone.

Sevika seemed to feed off your submission, her grip on your hip growing even tighter, possessive.

“Come on, doll,” she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. “You know what I want to hear. Beg me. Show me just how badly you need me. Just how badly you want my touch.”

You couldn’t even form a coherent thought as Sevika’s commanding words rang in your ears. All you cared about was pleasing her, doing whatever she asked of you.

With a trembling voice, you managed to say, “Please, Sevika. I need you. I want you. I’ll do anything you ask, just please, touch me. Please.” Your voice was shaky, every word dripping with desperation. It was almost humiliating. It was humiliating. how much you needed her, how much you wanted her control.

Sevika’s lips curved into a cruel smile as she heard your pleading, her body practically vibrating with satisfaction. You had given in to her completely, and she knew it.

“There’s a good little girl,” she purred, her tone a mix of condescension and affection.

She finally released the tight grip she had on your hip, her hand drifting upwards, tracing a path along your ribcage until her hand came to rest on the nape of your neck.

Her fingers dug into your flesh as she pulled you closer, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You felt a jolt of electricity pass through you as you started to move against her needily now, the simple friction of your movements sending pleasure coursing through your body. Sevika’s grip on the back of your neck tightened, and she let out a low groan, her eyes dark and hooded as she watched you.

“That’s it doll,” she murmured, her voice rough. “Keep moving just like that.”

Your movements grew more frenzied as you heard her words, your body craving the praise and direction she was giving you. You could feel Sevika shifting beneath you, her thighs tensing as you moved against her, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

“You look so damn good like this,” she growled, her fingers digging into your neck. “Grinding against me, desperate and needy. Tell me you’re mine, princess.”

Your mind was hazy with pleasure, your body thrumming with desire as you heard the possessive edge in Sevika’s voice.

“I’m yours,” you gasped out, your words rushed and very desperate. “I’m yours, ‘vika. All yours.”

You could feel Sevika’s lips on your neck now, her tongue tracing a path along your skin, biting and sucking just hard enough to leave a bruise.Her mouth was hot and greedy on your skin, her teeth and lips leaving a trail of hickeys down your neck and across your shoulder.

Her hands were everywhere, exploring your body like she owned it, owning you. And that’s because she did. And you loved it.

Sevika's hands roamed your body as she continued her assault on your neck, one hand sliding up under your shirt to cup your breast, fingers finding your nipple and pinching it roughly. Her hips bucked up against you, grinding her hips against yours as she sucked harder on your skin, leaving dark purple marks blooming on your flesh.

She pulled back for a moment, eyes dark with lust as she looked at you, a wicked grin on her face. "You're mine, ain't ya?" She growled, voice low and husky. "All fucking mine. And I'm gonna mark up this pretty skin of yours, so everyone knows who you belong to."

Her hand slid down your stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, teasing you. "Gonna fuck this tight little cunt of yours 'til you can't walk straight. Gonna fill you up with my strap til you're dripping with it." She punctuated each word with a thrust of her hips, the bulge of her strap rubbing against your core.

"Now be a good girl and take off them clothes for me. Wanna see all of you."

Sevika's eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and possessiveness. Her grip on your thigh tightens as she waits for you to obey her command, to strip for her like the good little girl she wants you to be. The anticipation is killing you, your body aching for her touch, for the feeling of her thick strap splitting you open.

But you make her wait, hands moving slow as molasses as you inch your shirt up, revealing your stomach inch by tantalizing inch. Sevika's breath hitches, her eyes tracking every bit of skin you reveal. You take your time, drawing out the tease until finally, you pull your shirt off completely, tossing it aside.

"Fuck, look at you," Sevika groans, her hands immediately going to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "So goddamn perfect." Her head dips down, teeth grazing over one nipple before she sucks it into her mouth, biting down just enough to make you gasp.Her hands move to your pants next, popping the button open and tugging down the zipper. She hooks her fingers in the waistband, waiting for your nod before pulling them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lacy panties. Sevika runs a finger over the fabric, pressing it against your clit through the thin material.

"These are cute," she murmurs, "but they gotta go. Wanna see this pretty little cunt." Her fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and exposing you fully to her hungry gaze. "Fuck, baby, look at you. So wet for me already."

Sevika's fingers dance over your slick folds, teasing your entrance before pushing inside, two thick digits stretching you open.

"Fuck, you're tight," she groans, pumping her fingers in and out, curling them to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Gonna feel so good wrapped around my strap."

She adds a third finger, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck against her hand, chasing more friction, more pressure. Sevika obliges, fucking into you harder, faster, the obscene wet sounds of her fingers pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt filling the room.

"That's it, baby," she purrs, "Ride my fingers like a good girl. Gonna get this pussy nice and ready for me." Her other hand moves to your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples until they're hard peaks, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Sevika can tell you're getting close, your walls starting to flutter around her fingers, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She leans in, biting at your earlobe before whispering in your ear. "Gonna make you come on my fingers, princess. Gonna make you scream my name. And then I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't remember yours."

Her words push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your cunt clamping down around her fingers as you come with a cry of her name. Sevika works you through it, fingers still pumping, drawing out your pleasure until you're shaking and spent in her arms. Sevika pulls her fingers out of your dripping cunt, bringing them to her lips and sucking your essence off them with a moan. "Fuck, you taste so good, baby. Could eat this pretty little pussy all day."

She stands, lifting you easily and carrying you to the bed, tossing you down onto the mattress. You bounce slightly, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Sevika strips off her own clothes, revealing miles of scarred, toned skin and the thick bulge of her strap-on. She climbs onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator stalking its prey.

"Gonna fuck you so good, princess. Gonna make you mine in every fucking way."

Sevika settles between your thighs, the blunt head of her strap pressing against your entrance. She leans down, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth as she starts to push inside, stretching you open around her thick length. Inch by inch she sinks into you, until she's fully seated inside you, her hips flush against yours. She breaks the kiss, pulling back to look at you, drinking in the sight of you stretched around her. "Fuck, look at you, taking me so well. Love seeing this tight little cunt stuffed full of my cock." She starts to move, pulling out slowly before snapping her hips forward, setting a deep, hard rhythm that has you seeing stars. The thick strap rubs against your walls with every thrust, hitting spots you didn't even know you had. Sevika braces herself above you, one hand coming down to rub tight circles over your clit as she fucks into you.

"Gonna come inside this pussy," she grunts, her hips slamming into you harder, faster. "Fill you up until it's dripping out of you. Gonna breed this cunt so good, baby. Make you fucking mine."

Sevika's hips piston into you relentlessly, the thick strap stretching you open, filling you completely. Her fingers work over your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body rocks with the force of her thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall with a rhythmic thud. Sweat drips down Sevika's brow as she fucks into you relentlessly, chasing her own release.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," she growls, her voice ragged with pleasure. "This pussy was made for my cock. Gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else."

Her words push you over the edge, your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clench around the thick strap, milking it as you come with a cry of her name. Sevika fucks you through it, her hips never faltering, drawing out your pleasure until you're shaking beneath her. With a final, deep thrust, Sevika buries herself inside you, grinding her hips against yours as she finds her own release. You feel the thick strap pulse and throb inside you, her release flooding your channel, filling you up just like she promised.

"Fuck, baby," she pants, collapsing on top of you, her sweat-slicked skin pressing against yours. "Love you so goddamn much. Gonna keep this pussy full, keep you dripping with my come."

She peppers your face with kisses, her hands roaming over your body possessively. "You're mine." she murmurs against your lips. "All fucking mine. And I'm gonna make sure everyone knows it."

She rolls off of you, pulling you into her arms, your head resting on her chest. Her fingers brush out the slight undone braids she created earlier, her other hand splayed possessively over your stomach, holding you close.

"Gonna keep you forever, baby," she whispers, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Gonna love you 'til the end of fucking time."

❥・・ ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈ ・・❥

[majinbangus]

will johnny ever punish simon(and how) for playing too rough with you and accidentally hurt you (yk some dog just like that) or doesnt listen to reader or makes reader upset????

follow up question if simon and reader do something and it upset him how will he handle it???

im in LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE with ur guard dog simon and owner johnny reader

i hope you have a good day and win the lottery ❤️

》 18+ i'm glad you're liking my guard dog!ghost series! sorry my answer got a little long but a short way of explaining Ghost's dynamic with reader when it comes to punishments is that he's technically submitting, but he's also not really submissive ygm? he'll go through his punishments, but energy is very much this post. that's what im tryna go for at least -> more here

Accidentally hurting you, Soap can forgive. Ghost is always extremely careful not to seriously hurt you. Yes, he'll be rough and leave you sore or with bruises sometimes, but he still behaves much like the scrupulous guard dog he is, listening to your every command and taking care to protect you from real harm.

As Soap likes too remind you, Ghost is very well trained already, and it's up to you to show him that you can take care of him just as Ghost takes care of you. In fact, Soap is a little harder on you if he catches you slacking, reminding you that a dog like Ghost deserves a responsible owner willing to take care of such a diligent dog.

However, in the rare event that Ghost doesn't do his duty as your guard dog and leaves your side, Soap will get upset, but he would actually leave the punishment up to you (since you're technically Ghost's primary owner. Soap is there to teach you how to be a good owner) and act as the enforcer for whatever punishment you see fit.

So if you wanna make Ghost sleep in a dog crate for a week, Soap will buy the crate and Ghost isn't allowed on the bed. If you want to keep Ghost on a leash until you regain trust in him, Soap is gonna do some leash training with Ghost.

For more sexual punishments, Ghost will be kept in a cock cage for a while so the most he can do is mindlessly rut against you, and Soap will be the one to hold the key to his cage. He'll only unlock Ghost if you say so, but he'll also encourage you to keep Ghost locked because he's a shit he wants you to be a firm dog owner and not give in to Ghost's dog brown eyes that you've developed a soft spot for. When that happens, Ghost might bare his teeth at Soap because he knows what he's doing, but won't do much more because he knows Soap would suggest a cock gag next, that fucker-

(also if you wanna spank Ghost, Soap is will enforce that too)

But these punishments are rare and far in between. Ghost is very disciplined, so they don't happen often, but when they do, Ghost will go through them like a good boy, knowing that he messed up. He'll regain your trust and be an even better dog for you.

Now if you and Simon do something that upset Soap, (like for example, exploring a dangerous alley willingly, even though Ghost told you not to go in, but went with you anyway because you told him the 'quiet' and 'heel' command) you'll get the brunt of the punishment since 'dog behavior is a reflection of your guidance, sweets.'

Ghost won't get a harsh punishment, but he'll have to stay leashed to his crate, watching Soap give you your punishment which could range from all sorts of things, but mostly, it'll be Soap treating you like a dog- a puppy- to show you how to be a good owner.

He'll make you wear a tail plug and have you crawl on all fours. Tell you commands like 'sit pretty' or 'bow' or 'come'. You're not allowed to talk, only bark, and If you can't follow his commands, the longer the punishment will go and the more intense it'll become. Hell, if he's feeling generous, he'll unleash Ghost and make him show you how to be a good dog, letting Ghost correct your behavior. They may even tag team you, and you'll be aching for days, but the lesson will definitely stick.

[monzabee]

prison for life - mv1

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.

Pairing: max verstappen x pregnant!reader 

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of throwing up, cursing, kinda angsty in some places, jos verstappen

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i’ve been in such a max mood recently that is actually shocking to me, but i just needed some fluffy anything after working on smutty pieces for weeks. i got this idea in my dream and honestly i think it turned out better than i could’ve imagined!! feedback is always appreciated, and my requests are currently open if you want to check that out, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

If you would have to choose a word to describe Max, it would be ‘overprotective’, because that’s what he is. It’s not a bad thing, per say. He isn’t overbearing or controlling at all, but he is simply overprotective. And if you thought he was overprotective when the two of you were dating or when you first got married, you have to admit that you were not, at all, prepared for his protectiveness when you told him that you were pregnant. Apart from his initial meltdown over becoming a dad, or rather becoming like his own father, Max has been pretty chill about the whole thing – with the exception being your safety, of course. The underlying problem isn’t the fact that you’re some sort of daredevil because you’re not, the problem is the fact that Max believes that everything is out to get you. 

The olives you wanted to eat for breakfast? Choking hazard.  

The candles you bought for the living room (to be purely decorative, but still)? Fire hazard.  

The pool lounger Victoria thought would be a cute addition to the pool? Drowning hazard.  

The seatbelt in his car that is surprisingly tight? Could be all three, according to Max, given the right (or wrong) circumstances.  

So, yeah, maybe he wasn’t that scared of becoming a dad, but he was surely scared of you being in danger. That’s why you agreed to stay back for the most races this year – you knew he didn’t need to worry about you or your baby’s safety on top of the stress he had to deal with during the usual racing weekend. That was until you realised how much you would miss your boyfriend after almost a month of not seeing him due to a triple header. And so, you did the thing any person with a common sense would do – flying out to see him without telling him beforehand, because what’s the fun in that?  

The sheer look of shock on his face might be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen when you meet him in his driver’s room, but of course Max doesn’t share the same sentiment as you. Because all he chooses to focus is the fact that you were on a plane – a 0.23% risk out of very 7.7 million flights each year, but still. He spends at least half an hour, just checking you over and assuring himself that you and the baby are fine; at some point he decides that you need to go to the nearest hospital to get an ultrasound just to make sure the baby is okay, but you tell him to fuck off and calm his tits down in the kindest way possible. And that’s how the two of you end up on the small couch in his driver’s room, with his arms around you as you lay between his legs, his hands splayed on the swell of your stomach as he caresses the skin through the fabric of your dress. His voice is low as he tells you about his day, mostly media duties since it is only Thursday, and how he thinks putting a cat tree in the nursery is a bad idea (that was your idea initially, but you can see how having two rumbunctious cats hang out in the nursery could cause problems). 

“I also thought about something else,” he mumbles, suddenly busying himself with the flower pattern of your dress instead of looking at you.  

You raise your brows slightly, motioning him to continue, but let out a huff when he doesn’t do so right away. “Come on,” you whine softly, “tell me what it is Maxie.”  

“I don’t want him to get into karting.” His words are soft, mumbled, and most definitely final. You know how Max can be when he puts his mind into it, and this particular topic has been a discussion in your household ever since the two of you found out that you were having a boy. “I don’t want him to go through what I went through.” 

Letting out a soft exhale, you motion Max to six next to you on the couch. “He won’t,” you assure him, voice soft as you give pleading looks at him, “you’re not your father, Max.” He gives you a look that basically begs for you to not dwell on the topic, but you continue despite the look he gives you, “And what if he wants to get into karting? Are you going to tell him no?” 

Max tries his best to ignore the knowing look you give him, knowing very well that he won’t be able to ever say ‘no’ to his son, who already has him wrapped around his finger. “I might do that, you never know.” He grumbles, hiding his face in your hair – though the soft giggles coming from you manages to put a soft smile on his face. “You’re supposed to agree with me, you know, we have to be a united front.”   

“We’ll discuss it when the baby comes, until then, I’ll be the voice of reason.” You emphasise, poking him at his bicep to convey your point. “You feel better now?” 

“Kinda,” he murmurs, leaving small kisses onto the exposed skin of your shoulder as he keeps on murmuring against your skin, “I would feel better if I knew you stayed in bed all day, relaxing.” 

With that, you choke a loud laugh, and motion him to stand up as you try to do it yourself – though, of course, he has to help with the baby bump being in the way of you doing any sort of physical activity. “You’re funny, let’s go get me ice cream.”  

The only response you get back is a confused look from your husband, his head tilted to the side as he eyes you warily. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Um, excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow, “Your son,” pointing to your stomach, you emphasise your words, “is craving ice cream right now.”  

Max’s eyes soften instantly, and a smile creeps across his face. He nods, taking your hand gently as he helps you up. “Well, if my son wants ice cream, then ice cream he shall have.” 

You giggle as you both make your way out of the driver’s room, Max's hand never leaving yours. The paddock is bustling with activity, but for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you, cocooned in your little world. As you approach the nearest concession stand, Max’s protective instincts kick in once again. “Is this ice cream stand safe? How long have they been here? Do they have the proper health certifications?” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Max, it’s ice cream, not a five-course meal. I’m sure it’s fine.” He sighs but nods, deciding to trust your judgment. After all, you did manage to fly all the way here without incident and somehow alerting him. You both get a generous serving of your favourite flavours, and as you sit down to enjoy your treat, you feel a sense of normalcy and contentment wash over you. 

Max watches you with a tender expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and worry. “I know I can be overprotective,” he says softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face, “but it’s only because I love you so much.” 

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know, Max. And I love you too. But sometimes, you need to trust that everything will be okay. We’ll figure things out together, just like we always do.” 

He nods, his gaze shifting to your belly. “You’re right. I guess I need to talk to my mom.”  

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in curiosity.  

“Well, she promised me she’d look after you but you’re here, so I think we need to have a talk about not keeping secrets from each other.” He mumbles, dragging a hand down his face. 

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, Maxie, who do you think helped me with my bags at the airport? Your mom is unsurprisingly a strong woman.” 

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d stay put for a whole month.” He sighs, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “Alright, but next time, at least let me know you’re planning something. My heart can only take so much.” 

Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice-cream into at least staying put withing the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice cream into at least staying put within the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. He periodically checks in, making sure you're comfortable and well-fed. Each time he sneaks a glance your way, you catch him with a knowing smile and a roll of your eyes, and he returns it with a wink. He knows that there is absolutely no reason for him to be checking on you as much as he does, because you’ll be fine in the cool hospitality suite with enough water to keep you hydrated for years, but he can’t help but worry about anything and everything going wrong. And his worries prove to be true when he sees the one person who he definitely doesn’t want around you.  

“What are you doing here?” He asks the approaching figure, “I thought you were not going to be coming to this race but the next one.”  

“Given the drop in your performance in the last few races I thought I should be here for... support.” His dad supplies, eyes finding you behind his son’s back on one of the couches in the hospitality, “And I can see the reason for why you’ve been distracted lately, what is she doing here?”  

Max scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest protectively, “She’s my wife, she is more than welcome to be here.” 

“She’s also a distraction, Max,” his father points out, “you’re going to lose your focus if you keep–” 

Since Max is faster than his father where it matters the most, he cuts him off before he can say anything further. “Leave, I don’t want you here.” 

Max’s father looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before they narrow into a scowl. “Excuse me?” he says, his voice low and dangerous. 

“You heard me,” Max replies firmly, his stance unwavering. “I don’t want you here if you’re going to criticize my wife and stress me out, or worse, stress her out.” 

“You’re being irrational,” his father argues, taking a step closer. “I’m just trying to help you stay focused.” Seeing that his son is not going to back down anytime soon, he points a threatening finger towards him. “I’ll be back on race day, but you better be ready to put in a winning performance,” his father finishes, his voice laced with finality. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving a tense silence in his wake. 

Max sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he watches his father disappear into the crowd. Looking back at you over his shoulder, talking to some interns from the social media team, he can’t help but feel the dread of you having to face his father – which gives him another reason to somehow stop the two of you from running into each other during the weekend.  

On Friday, Max’s luck decides to do him a favour as you tell him that you’re not feeling well enough to go to the track with him for the qualifying, and though it is true that he wants you to be with him, he also realises that this will give him one less thing to worry about. He knows how stressful it can be for you to navigate the bustling paddock and deal with the crowds, especially with the added pressure of possibly encountering his father. 

“You rest up, okay?” he says, his voice full of concern. “I'll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, just call me.” 

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I will, Max. Good luck today. We'll be cheering you on from here.” 

Max leans down to kiss your forehead gently as he mumbles into your skin, “I love you.”  

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice soft and comforting, “be careful out there, okay?” 

Max has one goal throughout qualifying, and to his team principal’s dismay, it is not being on pole. His one and only goal is to get the session done with as quickly as possible and get back to you as soon as he can. After the session ends, he barely waits for the car to come to a stop before jumping out and heading straight for the hospitality suite. His team notices his urgency but knows better than to question it once he tells them he’ll pay whatever fine the FIA will give him for missing his interviews. 

Bursting through the door, Max finds you resting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The sight of you immediately calms his racing heart. “Hey,” he says softly, walking over to sit beside you. “How are you feeling?” 

You smile up at him, still in his team gear and the hat he almost never takes off, the warmth in your eyes easing his worries. “Better, now that you're here. How did it go?” 

“Starting on pole,” he replies, mostly in a mumble, taking your hand in his. “But all I could think about was getting back to both of you.” 

You squeeze his hand, your expression tender. “I'm proud of you, Max. You did great.” 

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thanks. Let's just relax for the rest of the day, hm? I want to hold you to make sure you’re not getting out of this bed until tomorrow.” 

“You know, I would be happier about this proposal if it was until different circumstances,” you sigh, earning a laugh from him as he pulls you towards his chest, being careful not to spill your tea, of course. Why? Because it is a safety hazard, of course. 

As you settle back into the bed together, Max feels a sense of relief wash over him. The stress of the day melts away in your presence, and he realizes how much he needs these quiet moments with you to forget all about the outside world and focus his energy on what actually matters instead. 

The next day, feeling much better, you prepare to join Max at the track for the race. He’s still concerned but reassured by your determination to support him. As you arrive at the paddock together, Max is more attentive than ever, keeping an eye out for his father in hopes of trying to prevent the two of you running into each other. Navigating through the bustling paddock, Max keeps a protective arm around your waist, and a hand on your bump whenever the two of you stand somewhere talking to someone, guiding you through the throngs of people. His eyes constantly scan the crowd, his jaw set in a determined line. The other drivers and team members greet you warmly, and you return their smiles, feeling the anticipation that surrounds you. 

“Max, relax a bit,” you whisper, squeezing his hand as you notice the tension in his posture. 

He glances down at you, his expression softening slightly. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay.” 

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “but we’re here to enjoy the race and support you. Try to focus on that.” 

He nods, taking a deep breath as both of you make your way to the Red Bull hospitality area. The team welcomes you with open arms, and you settle into a comfortable spot where you can watch the preparations for the race. He asks one of the interns to keep an eye on you, which he thought he was being sly whilst doing it, but you of course catch him in the corner of your eye. That’s when you realise the man walking towards him, your eyes meeting in nothing short of disdain for each other.  

You stiffen slightly, your hand tightening around Max’s hand as he turns just in time to see his father approaching, his protective instincts kicking into high gear as he lets go of your hand and decides to wrap his arm around you protectively instead. 

“Max,” Jos says, his tone neutral but carrying an underlying condescension. “We need to talk before your race begins, walk with me.” 

Max's grip tightens around you for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold. “What is it, Dad?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with irritation. 

Jos's eyes flicker to you before focusing back on Max. “I wanted to discuss strategy, but I can see this isn't a good time.” 

Max's jaw clenches, his protective instincts on high alert. “If it's important, we can talk here. I’m not leaving her side.”  

Jos sighs, clearly frustrated. “Fine, if that's how you want it.” 

Max’s arm remains firmly around you as his father steps closer. “Make it quick,” Max insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. If other people were to see your eyes moving from one Verstappen to the other, they’d probably think you are watching a tennis match, though the situation in front of you is certainly more tense than that. 

Jos glances at you once more before addressing Max. “I just wanted to remind you to stay focused. Pole position is a great start, but you need to keep your head in the race.” 

Max's eyes narrow, and he lets out a scoff, “I know how to do my job, no need for reminder. Anything else?” 

Jos shakes his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. “Just don’t let distractions cost you the win.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Max hisses, taking a step towards his father as he gently pushes you behind himself. You have to put a hand against his chest to slow him down, though that doesn’t prove to be a sufficient prevention method. “I already told you; she is my wife, and he is not going anywhere so you better get that into that damaged brain of yours.” 

“Max,” you try to plead with him, “please, not before your race.”  

He gives you a look over his shoulder for a short moment before turning back towards his father. His jaw is set as he looks at the man in front of him. “I’ll only tell you this one more time. When she’s here with me, you don’t show up. If you do show up, you don’t come near her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t even look at her.” Another step taken towards his father has you tightening your hold on him, but he still manages to convey his message. “Try something like this again, and you won’t be in my life anymore let alone my son’s.” 

Jos's lips press into a thin line, his eyes darting to you briefly before settling back on Max. “Fine,” he repeats, his tone colder. “Just remember what’s at stake every time you get behind the wheel.” 

Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.” 

Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.”

It’s not the first time Max has stood up to his father, not by any means. But you can tell that this time affects him in a different way. The weight of the words exchanged and the implications for their future relationship linger in the air. You can feel the tension radiating from Max as he watches his father walk away, and it takes a moment for him to relax his posture and turn back to you. “Please tell me something that will calm me down so I don’t somehow do something that would put me to jail.”

“Okay,” you singsong, quickly positioning yourself in front of him so that you can fix him with a strict look on your face. “You are not doing something that will put you into prison, period.”

“I’m going to need a very good reason because all I want to do right now is follow him to his car and punch him.” Unfortunately for you, the way his jaw is set is a telling sign that, no, Max would actually do something like this given the circumstances.

“There is no sim racing in prison.” You try to provide, giving him a weak smile.  

Max's lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile at your words, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. “No sim racing in prison, huh? Do you honestly think that would keep me from doing something stupid?” 

“I panicked!” You exclaim, hitting him on his chest lightly as he laughs at you silently. “How are you supposed to help me raise our son,” you point to your stomach to emphasise your point, “if you’re in prison, huh?”

Max's smile grows wider, the tension in his posture finally starting to melt away. “Okay, okay, you’ve got a point,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “I need to be here for both of you. But it’s so damn hard to ignore him.” 

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, your eyes soft and filled with understanding. “I know, but you’re stronger than him. And you have more important things to focus on. Like winning this race and getting me more ice cream on our way back to the hotel.” 

He takes a deep breath, nodding slowly as he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. I can’t let him get to me. Not today.” 

“Exactly,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “I usually am.” 

Max laughs, the sound lightening the mood even more. “Yes, you usually are,” he agrees, pulling you closer for a brief kiss. “Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now, go out there and show everyone what you can do. We’ll celebrate with ice cream afterward.” 

“Deal,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with affection and determination. With one last squeeze, he lets you go and turns towards his team, his focus now fully on the race ahead. “But I feel like I need to let you know that I would definitely go to prison for life for you.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t you have a race to win, Verstappen?” 

He grins, giving you one last kiss before heading off to prepare for the race, giving you a grin over his shoulder as he starts to move away, “So, I’ll get the rest of that kiss after the race, then?” 

“Yeah, Max,” you let out a breathy laugh, your eyes not leaving his for a moment, “after the race!” 

[vilentia]

How Kurt would act if he had a crush on you

Kurt Wagner x reader

Kurt would frequently steal glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, his yellow eyes filled with admiration and curiosity. When you catch him, he quickly looks away, blushing slightly.

To mask his growing feelings, Kurt might start playfully teasing you, making light-hearted jokes or gently poking fun at you in a way that’s always kind and never hurtful.

Despite his usually confident and charming demeanor, Kurt becomes a bit more nervous when you’re around. His usual grace might falter slightly, and he might stumble over his words when talking to you.

Kurt would find small ways to be close to you, like holding doors open, offering you his arm when you’re walking together, or helping you with tasks. Each gesture is subtle but filled with care.

He’d go out of his way to learn about your likes and dislikes. You’d find that he always knows your favorite snack, remembers little details you mention in passing, and surprises you with things that make you smile.

Kurt might try to compliment you, but it often comes out flustered and hurried, as he gets embarrassed about being too forward. Still, his sincerity shines through.

In battle or during missions, Kurt would be extra protective of you. He’s always making sure you’re safe, ready to teleport you out of harm’s way in an instant if necessary.

He’d start inviting you to do things with him, like practicing in the Danger Room, going for walks, or just hanging out. He tries to keep it casual, but it’s clear he enjoys your company.

When you stand close to him, Kurt becomes noticeably more fidgety. His tail swishes more, and his hands might move nervously as he tries to focus on anything other than how near you are.

His teasing would gradually evolve into more subtle flirting. He’d compliment your bravery, your skills, or how you light up a room, always with a mischievous smile that hints at his deeper feelings.

Kurt would often find himself daydreaming about you, lost in thought with a small, dreamy smile on his face. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until someone else points it out.

He would frequently seek out your opinion or approval on things, valuing what you think and using it as a way to connect with you on a deeper level.

Kurt would start opening up to you about his past, his family, and his faith. Sharing these personal stories is his way of letting you into his world, hoping you might see him as more than just a friend.

Though he’d never admit it, Kurt would feel a pang of jealousy if he saw you getting close to someone else. He might withdraw a bit, unsure of how to handle his emotions, but never wanting to show it outright.

After building up the courage, Kurt would eventually confess his feelings in a sweet, heartfelt way. He’d probably be a bit nervous, maybe even teleporting around out of anxious energy, but he’d make sure you know how much you mean to him.

****

It may be a little out of character, but I'm a sucker for slow burns. 😮‍💨

[furiousgoldfish]

Which ones of these arbitrary trauma-induced rules do you follow?

No spending money, ever. what if you need it later and your life depends on it.

Assume that all strangers are 3 seconds close to becoming hostile. fawn to keep them friendly.

No delegating tasks. no telling other people to do things you could potentially do yourself. what if they mess up.

Assume that everyone will consider you a burden if you do 1 single mistake that inconveniences them. do all that is possible to not make that mistake.

Do not admit when things are going wrong. wait until theres no other option but to ask for help, and even then consider not doing that.

Always act like you're okay. not doing so might make you seem 'not normal' and 'accused of being crazy and unstable'.

Do anything for friends, even if it sounds weird, dodgy, illegal. you want to prove that you're fun and easy going and helpful and useful and extremely cool with anything.

Never let it show if you're suspicious of someone. never say out loud that you think their intentions are bad. that might set them off.

If hurt, hide and isolate. Do not let anyone see you hurt.

Do not ask help for problems you feel are your own responsibility to solve. Even if you don't see yourself solving them successfully. If you can't do it, assume nobody can help you.

Help others to try and build positive relationships. Don't accept help so you don't end up relying on them for anything.

Do not start things that involve help or participation from other people. People are not reliable.

Assume that institutions, government, police, social services, and any kind of groups of people are all considering you a nuisance, and would attack you on sight, in every single situation. Never rely on them or assume they would do anything else.

No arguing, confronting, or standing up for yourself unless the situation is absolutely unsurvivable otherwise. Lay low until doing otherwise is seriously damaging your mental health and ability to live.

Give up on hopeful social encounters before they disappoint you. If you have to interact with people, assume the worst is about to happen.

No allowing yourself to idealize, or dream of positive future with people. It's a trap and your expectations need to be either extremely realistic or low.

Assume that fancy and expensive things don't exist for you. Despise them and get away from them.

No comparing yourself and your life to how other people live. It causes depression and despair. Other people's lives and standards of living are none of your business.

Do not showcase any skill or brag about any achievement. Jealous people can destroy you for satisfaction.

Assume people think the worst of you and don't consider changing their mind. Just try to keep out of their way.

Do not display anger. You don't want to be called insane or get arrested. You don't know what people could potentially blame you for if you're openly angry. But other angry people are dangerous and you need to get away from them.

If you follow more than half of these, you have a trauma-induced problem. These are not normal or healthy. These are not developed in a healthy environment. These are extremely self-protective, isolating, ruled by terror of the world and the people living in it. If you follow these, something bad has been done to you.