#so that situation made me think maybe I am a believable liar

[polaroidcats]

51 and 63!!!

51. Are you a good liar?

hmmm I think I'm an okay liar? I am never sure if I'm a good liar bc whenever I lie it feels so obvious to me haha but I actually think it doesn't come across that way. I try not to lie much though, but ofc sometimes I do, usually just in situations like making small talk with coworkers or stuff like that, I'm very honest to the people I know and trust bc I see no point in lying to them!!

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Ohhh this was so much harder than I thought?? But dinosaurs! Dinosaurs are so cool!! (So are dragons, this really is a rude question, making me chose!)

Ask game!

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Mr. Russell

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: when you’re digging into secrets of dangerous people, you might get burned or…

Warning: this is pure filth, SMUT, 18+, cursing, spanking, reader being tied up, maybe dark theme?, unprotected sex, mafia!George, no use of Y/N

A/N: I am sick this week and laying bored in my bed made me wrote this. I hope you enjoy it!

My mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that I woke up tied to the bed, in the bedroom I have no recollection of getting into, completely naked.

“I see, you’re awake, darling.”

The voice of a man was heard beside me. Laying on my stomach with my head towards the direction of the window it was very hard to turn to that voice, but I tried my best. It was George. George Russell. The mafia boss everybody warned me about. And I didn’t listen.

“Tsk, tsk. You were a very bad girl. Poking into secrets that you know nothing about. You should’ve been careful. But.. you were so goddamn curious, weren’t you? So, I thought that you’d be happy to experience some of that secrets for yourself.”

My mouth was dry, I swallowed hard as I listened to him. Working as an investigative reporter, it was my job to look through some cases to make my articles interesting. There were some rumours, that Russell had his own sex club, and that alone wasn’t so bad, but also drugs were involved along with some torture and violence, leading to deaths of clients and sometimes even of the “employees”.

Reels of my thoughts was interrupted by his hand on my cheek, caressing it lightly, tracing gently along my jaw.

“Speechless now, huh? You know, I can make you talk.”

“No, no, I’m gonna talk, just don’t, please.”

My voice sounded desperate and hopeless, exactly what he wanted. Trying to move my hands, the restrains dug more into the delicate flesh of mine, the soft whimper leaving my mouth.

George chuckled, when he got up from the bed, walking around it to stand right behind me. I couldn’t see much, but I bet that he liked what he was looking at. Next thing I know was his hands slipping under my stomach, pulling me upwards by my hips.

“Ass up, darling. You’re a sight for sore eyes. This is how you should be - naked, desperate and completely at my mercy. But no, you’d rather dig into shit to get informations for your stupid articles about me.”

“G-George, I-“

“For you, I’m Mr. Russell.”

And with that he slapped my ass. Hard.

“Fuck… Mr. Russell.” Choked whimper escaped my mouth as I was shocked, what just happened.

“That’s my good girl.”

His hands caressed the flesh of my ass, squeezing it and massaging it. My face was flushed with embarrassment, because, believe it or not, I liked that. A lot.

“You wanted to say something, darling? I interrupted you.” He spoke so casually, like this whole situation wasn’t even happening.

“I wanted to say, that- that I never intended to interrupt your business. I didn’t want that informations for articles, it was just my own curiosity.”

“And I am supposed to believe you, huh? Because I can’t, sweetheart. I saw the drafts you wrote.”

“But-“

Another slap across my ass. This time I felt the tingling and my toes on my feet curled from it as I bit into my lip to suppress a moan.

“You’re a fucking liar, darling. And I hate liars.”

I wasn’t able to say something else, because he spanked my ass for another five times. Delicate flesh of my behind stung and surely was red, his hands marked deeply into my skin. I was panting, tears burning in my eyes, because it fucking hurt. My body, on the other hand, had its own way to betray me.

“Ah, darling, you’re a naughty girl. Look how wet you got just from a little spanking session. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together. Unfortunately, I think that you’re not gonna get back to your usual job. Maybe I will keep you as my fucktoy from now on.”

I wanted to protest, but he was always a step ahead of me, his fingers now teasing my leaking pussy. That made me shut up instantly. Just as his fingertips traced the way to my sensitive bundle of nerves, I moaned softly and I knew it made him smile.

“Mmm… I can’t wait to claim you. You make me unbelievably hard, baby. Consider yourself special, it’s not happening often, because I’m not quite impressed by anybody.”

His voice was laced with lust and desire, it was like a music for my ears, getting straight to my core, to clench around nothing, craving him, aching for his cock to fill me.

“Please…”

“Please what, darling? Use your words. Tell me, what you want.”

Embarrassed by my neediness, I buried my head into the pillow, feeling the tension in my shoulders from the way I was tied up to the headboard.

Humming in disapproval, his fingers slid through my soaked folds, poking at the entrance, my back arching from the sensation.

“You need to say it, baby. Without that, I’m just gonna tease you to the oblivion. I can do that all night.”

Now I could feel his breath fanning over my aching core, my arms pushing against the restraints.

“I want you to eat my pussy, George, fuck, please. Please!”

I let out a loud plea, begging him to taste my arousal, to relieve the tension in my lower belly.

He just tsked at my desperate attempt, his fingers smearing my wetness across my ass cheek.

“You forgot about something. I thought I made that clear earlier.”

My mind was hazy from the desire and arousal but then I remembered.

“Please, make me cum with your mouth, Mr. Russell.”

“I knew you’re a good girl, darling.”

With that words, I felt his hot lips on my wet pussy, lapping on my bundle of nerves, while sliding his fingers inside me, stretching me out. Loud moans of mine filled the room, it was like ecstasy, my legs trembling from how good he was. I tried to move my hips a little, to get more from him but his strong arm kept me in place, just like he wanted. At first he made slow circles around my swollen nub, his fingers deep inside me, poking at my sweet spot, but then he picked up the pace with his fingers, while he was practically latched on my clit. That was too much, overwhelming feeling and I was a moaning mess, gasping for air, closer and closer to my climax.

Suddenly he stopped, getting away from me and I shifted in disapproval that he didn’t make me cum.

“W-why-“

“Shhh. Don’t worry. You’ll get to cum. But I want to feel that around my cock.”

I heard him undoing his pants, freeing his rocking hard length and as far as I could see, he smeared his cock with my juices he still had on his fingers from a while ago. It made him go feral, nearly cumming instantly of how erotic that was.

“Please, Mr. Russell. Fuck me. Fuck me like a whore.”

I didn’t care about my reputation or my image after this. I needed him, his cock seemed perfect to fill me up good and it was all that mattered now. My pussy was so worked up, dripping with arousal that I would do anything to have him.

“You’re my whore. Remember that.”

He said almost breathlessly, teasing me with his cock as he neared with it to my entrance. With one slow motion he pushed into me, stretching me to the limits, while I was nearly screaming from the overwhelming pleasure. I heard his huff along with chuckle, he was really satisfied with his making, giving my ass one slap before he started moving his hips against mine.

My brain went blank, my sight blinded as I let out a choked moans, saying his name in raspy voice, my throat dry from all that.

“You love this cock, right? Nobody can ever make you feel like this. Nobody can ever make this pussy so wet like me.”

His words made my mind spinning, I was so cockdrunk that I was drooling into the pillow. Each of his hard thrust was like a heaven for my sweet spot inside me, getting me closer and closer to release.

“Oh- my-“

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you? Huh? You think you deserve it?”

I nodded yes, desperately.

“Hm. Cum for me, darling.”

With another stretching thrust I felt my pussy tightening around him, slipping over the edge of my arousal, giving me the most toe curling orgasm I ever experienced. My body was writhing underneath him, his hand slapping my ass again to heighten my pleasure even more.

As I was coming down from my high, I also felt him twitching inside me, his pace picking up, riding to his high.

“That’s it, baby girl, I’m gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be dripping. I- ah- fuck!”

George couldn’t even finish the sentence, how he was caught off guard when my pussy squeezed him once more, ending with him painting my inner walls with his precious seed. He nearly collapsed onto me, how much he was done, breathing heavily like if he just ran a marathon.

After a while I decided to speak up. “G-George… my arms.. it hurts.”

George got out of the trance as he carefully slid out of me, kneeling beside me to untie the restraints on my hands that surely will leave marks. Then he laid down on the bed, pulling me closer to him, making me whimper a little, feeling my body sore and stiff.

“Was it the way you imagined it?” George placed a soft kiss in my hair, caressing my back lovingly.

“Mhm… much better than that, actually.” I hummed with smile.

“I enjoyed it too. We should do this role play thing more often. I felt powerful as a dangerous mafia boss.” He chuckled as he spoke.

“My dangerous Mr. Russell. You know how hard it is to say that when you’re begging for something?”

“You didn’t think that I would go easy on you, did you?”

He captured my lips in tender kiss, giving me all comfort and love I needed after that rough session.

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures not mine, they’re from Pinterest.

[siremasterlawrence]

Stalker (A Twisted Chris Evans Love Story)

Chris Evans is walking home from a lengthy extended climb up a mountain area as he is returning home he dug into his pocket as he walks into the side of the road sending that something off. He wants to believe that it’s all in his head but it’s obvious it is not as he ships clearly seeing a shadowy figure brush past the leaves craving him off guard and he rushes into his pocket. Chris shook his head thinking about how it is utterly ridiculous this all is, he is in deep fear of his life since that chance meeting at the red carpet event and remembers it all too well. He sighs as the jet black limo stops as the door pops open swinging to the side as he is stepping out onto the stylish red carpet and made another one of these lame movie events. He places a fake smile on his face as it is plastered for everyone to see giving all of the camera men a good show in that sexy toned blue suit, black shirt and silky black shades. He puts his hand up in the air waving at the camera lens with bright lights flashing in his face as he ships cold, his mind rushes into him soon everything begins to fade along with his mind. This young man hops over the gate coming face to face with his acting idol as the man places a hand on his shoulder with a kind smile that warms Chris heart and he begins to feel safe. Nothing in this world matters to him except to listen to the interviewers load of questions that came sparkling through his sweet mouth and his eye begin to glisten brightly. Chris eyes meet his eye lines as the world is swirling away all mixing together into a new realm as all everything’s and every one is mixing together and blending existence into one things. “Mr. Evans! Nice to finally meet your acquaintance! What is your favorite role that you have played up to now? Mine is Captain America, Ransom, Luke and my boy Johnny .” I say speaking from my soul.

“Chris? Chris? Where are you? Boo”

“Who are you? You are that guy right.”

“What guy? Mmmmwwwwwwaaaaaa”

“Did you just blow me a kiss?”

“You hated it?”

“Stay the fuck away from me”

“I will blowing much more of you “

“Oh Fuck you!”

“Language “

“Shit! Sorry “

“Your downfall begin now”

“What did I ever do to you ?”

“You saw me! You showed me such kindness”

“I knew we belonged together “

“I am married “

“Fuck that!”

“Do you see her?”

“I am in the forest “

“Are you? You are at home dummy”

“Of course! Sorry I am a dumbass “

“Love that Bostonian accent “

“It’s average”

“Like your package”

“Hey woah! That is no man’s land “

“I want to play it with it not suck it”

“You are a fucking liar”

“I don’t submit but I want you to claim you as my bitch”

Chris eyes stir back to the real world sighing as he looks at the ceiling with super smiling so silly it is unbelievable as the nightmare that he escaped a minute ago with that stalker. That is until he attempts to get up his body comes to realization of his current situation as his body struggles to undo the metal restraints holding him down and yankhim down.The fear apparent on his face calls to him in a strange bed fellow kind of way he may be into this, does he actually the terror aspect of his life? Can he really be into type fear kink? That is sick! He cannot be that guy to be in the most vulnerable person in the world holding him back a bit he slowly tries to calm himself down and find a way to leave this shit.The man is in the house he freaks out thinks to himself he could free himself maybes as he envisions his body, he could race up to the windows pulling it up a she struggles to exit the window and he makes a major run for it crossing the street then past all of the area. He felt the sweat piling onto him profusely as his brow began to itch as he footsteps growing more intense and even louder as he climbs up to the main and floor entering the room the door closes up leaving us no room to escape and Chris knew there is no way for him to win. “Hey Chris! Chris Evans! Pretending to not hear me because you can’t stand the sight of me. Replacing me with someone of something you like can’t and won’t work Chris. Since I am the real man here.” He whispers kneeling down to him as he places kissing map from Chris lips to his cheek and blowing air into his ear as Chris trembles with shakes at my power and soon he will be in love with him.

“Will you be mine without any issues?”

“I love you”

“Get off!”

“Why should I get off?”

“You should beg me”

“I am telling you GET OFF”

“Fuck that Will you surrender nicely”

“Get a life “

“I do”

“And maybe?”

“I want yours “

“You need to release me or my wife “

“Your wife, your wife “

“Yeah! Take my hand”

“Your wife is not here”

“She will be soon”

“And she is not coming back”

“So forget about it”

“I think…wait”

“What was I saying “

“How much you love me”

“I love my stalker “

“No! You are my stalker “

“Oh Hey!

“How did you find me Chris?”

“Don’t be scared of me”

“No! No! Ssssshhhhh”

“I just want to have some fun”

“At my expense “

“No with you “

The end

[robinthisbank]

Okay, so hi!! I’m kinda new to this fandom and I have a lot of ideas for so many characters but nobody will listen to me 😭

But I have an email idea, I like to think it’s realistic. Basically, I had this small HC where majority of the members of 411, most if not all are in some form of manipulative. Just hear me out — not manipulative as people (like in their day to day lives) but more over, manipulative when it comes to missions and interrogations. And I think Soap is by far the most manipulative.

Like just hear me out; He’s smart, knows his way around people and things, got Ghost THE Ghost to actually open up to him, you’re gonna tell me he doenst know a thing or two about psychology?

Lemme just give you a scenario of how I think Soap’s manipulation plays out: It’s a scenario of what if Ghost and Soap both got taken captive during a mission?

Highly unlikely, but just stay with me here.

If both of them get kidnapped, Ghost is the main one looking for a way out. Resisting, keeping his mouth shut, all that. Like defiance on MAX, not even so much of a wince when they decide physical torture. Like basically spitting in the captor’s faces but not actually spitting in their face. Ghost, I think, is the least manipulative. Not in terms of psychologically. Physically, perhaps.

While Soap is taking advantage of the situation and fucking with everyone psychologically. And I mean FUCKING WITH THEM. (I actually had a small HC that Soap’s brain matured faster than kids his age and he was really manipulative as a child/teen ((he learned it from watching his parents)) and he often uses those same skills a lot on missions.)

I think Soap grew and realized the shit he used to do was absolutely horrible, but will utilize those same skills for the greater good of his comrades.

And what I mean by fucking with everyone, say one of the captors has something against the military because their brother died there, an accident involving a bomb. Soap would proceed to make up the most EXTREMELY believable lie on the spot on how he was involved and even KILLED the guy himself because he made up for such target practice. And would literally have the most conniving smile when he gets a weapon pointed at him, knowing full well they won’t kill him or Ghost.

Like there would be three captors, or people involved with the knocking Ghost and Soap out and taking them to the base. For each captor, Soap would tell a lie about their past to them and watch them absolutely loose their shit about it because bursting out laughing and saying “I’m just kidding! Not a single word was true :D”

Like I think they would be so fucking believable GHOST HIMSELF would be believing them and getting equally as frustrated when it was a lie 💀

And even more frustrated when after they left, Soap tells him that he never had a plan and just was winging it. Like those lies weren’t pre planned, they were purely improv and Soap had no clue where he was going with them.

Soap’s the type to lie about certain events in his life to maybe sympathize with victims or captors to get to them to talk. And the lies can be so fucking believable, Soap will say them with all the conviction he has, you’d believe he was true. Until you fact check and realize “Oh no there’s no way that could’ve happened”.

And how Ghost felt, It would be a mix of “why tf am I in love with you again?” and “you could convince me that you’re my therapist and I’ve been in a mental hospital all this time, and everything was in my head, and I would whole heartedly believe you and that terrifies me” along with “god, I love you. never change, Johnny. never change.”

Anyway, thanks for listening, ignore this if you want and adios ^^

See you understand me. Soap being a fucking liar is everything to me. Manipulative little asshole. Does he get physically violent? Yes, in fact he clearly enjoys some level of destruction (for example: Looking at an oil rig exploding as if it were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen). But also, he just lies. Gaslights, even. Ghost simultaneously hates it and thinks about proposing every time Soap does it

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Three

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Graphic depictions of violence, Mentions of depression and death)

Description: Soldier Boy is dead. And his absence affects you more than you expected.

Tagged: @tonixe, @chernayawidow, @mrsjenniferwinchester, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

Part Two

Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait. I have had a lot going on, but I am always ready to dig back into my writings. I have a few other stories I am in the process of catching up on as well.

"What?" You could feel yourself on the edge of your sickness, having recovered almost fully to excellent health. You waited then, and waited, and waited, and you waited because you found yourself excited to show Soldier Boy that you had gotten better. The last time you were together, for some reason, it made you wish he had never left. You still found him infuriating, but the reality of the situation was that you tended to enjoy the odd ball conversations and quips that teeter tottered between you two, despite that. "What do you mean?"

They chose Countess to give you the bad news. You didn't know why. You hated that they chose her. Although, there was no one that could inform you of this tragedy that was free from your wrath.

"He-" She had tears in her eyes, but they didn't feel very genuine, did they? "He didn't make it."

"You're lying!" You jumped up from your seat in the meeting room, nearly everyone flinched aside from Stan Edgar. Edgar remained suspiciously calm at his seat at the head of the table. "You're lying to me!"

"Phoenix, he's gone. I watched it with my own two eyes." The Legend was standing at the corner of the room, you looked to him for an explanation, even knowing that he never would have witnessed what your fellow team members had. He shrugged at you, the pity filled and morose expression on his face made you heat up with rage.

"I don't believe you. I want to know everything. What happened? It's impossible!"

"Phoenix. Honey." The Legend was unable to stop you as you began to pace, eyeing up the others like they were fresh meat and all of them were about to be thrown in the fire.

"He saved us. He saved all of us." Mindstorm ducked his head after speaking those words and it was in that moment you knew something was wrong because the air thickened with a harsh tension. Mindstorm was never a good liar.

"Then where's the body? None of you got the body?!"

"How could we? W-We would have died." Gunpowder cried out, his bottom lip wobbling, but he too couldn't meet your eyes.

"Then I will." Your white cape swung out behind you as you booked it for the doors. It would take you a couple hours to get to Nicaragua, but you could do it, you would do it for Soldier Boy.

"One moment, Phoenix..." Stan Edgar's calm voice penetrated you from afar, you didn't face him. "Think rationally. If Soldier Boy did not survive that minor nuclear blast, then neither would you survive it's remnants." You closed your eyes, a wetness rippling down your cheeks that turned into steam off your lashes. Your fists clenched at your sides and you bit down on the inside of your cheek. "You are not the only person mourning a great loss, the world is mourning for a fallen hero, and they need the remaining members of Payback to stick together and rise up."

"How can we rise up? We don't have a leader." You glared back at him, unable to hide the red burning in your irises.

"We don't need him, we just need each other." Even more proof that they were lying, Crimson so swift to give up on Soldier Boy, so swift to forget his importance.

"I should have gone, I should have been there. Maybe I would have done a better fuckin' job than you shit heads."

"Hey!" Tessa protested, you were at the other end of the table, glaring back at Stan Edgar.

"Perhaps..." His next words would haunt you for ages to come. "But you weren't."

...

1994...

You stood before a lengthy window that spanned the entirety of one side of your home. The view of a New York skyline, metal structures reaching toward a crystal blue sky. The sun bled through, your shadow cast against a pristine marble white floor. You were wearing your hero suit, which had changed over the years. It was mostly black, with red accents that followed the curves of your body. Your former suit was all white, but Vought claimed you had been wearing that suit for too long. You needed to rebrand. This new suit still had a cape, it was slanted off one shoulder and it was cut shorter than your last, ending at your lower back. The boots were knee high, with latches of vibrant red.

They started having meetings about your name too. The board hadn't come to a consensus. They wanted to keep you, relocate you after Payback finally disbanded. The issue was no one could ever get ahold of you. The Legend called nonstop, he could barely get your attention at scheduled events. You were never in your penthouse, never available for a quick conversation. You knew what they wanted, but for nearly an entire year you had been avoiding it. In fact, you had been putting all of your energy into a separate project. Outside the knowledge of twisted Vought executives and nosy journalists.

Where was Phoenix? They all asked.

What is the former Payback hero up to? Newspapers read.

The other members of Vought became bought out poster children for big corporations. Vought occasionally had them doing shows and special appearances. Crimson Countess became the face for a nationwide insurance company, the TNT twins had rights to their very own movie franchise, Mindstorm was an author of a New York Times bestseller, Noir, despite his impairment, continued doing signings and attending Vought funded events, and Gunpowder's fame dissipated into nothing as he grew older. There was the occasional memorial for Swatto. And then, of course, the annual Soldier Boy celebration of life. They even put up a poorly crafted statue in his honor, directly in front of the ever-rising Vought tower.

Phoenix knew that this was the only chance she had at rounding up all of Payback's former members. It was the only time of the year that all of them weren't scattered about at different parts of the country. Phoenix-You, were determined to gain their audience. You were more than prepared for it.

So, you called them to your penthouse. Unlike them, Vought didn't immediately kick you out from the tower's many different living accomodations. Vogelbaum and the Legend spoke on your behalf numerous times about your quality and significance as a hero. The others had seemingly died down in popularity, but for decades you could pride yourself in keeping an endless following. You used these facts to your advantage.

Your penthouse was usually filled to the brim with vintage furniture, little war trinkets from the old days sat on black wooden shelves. Today, you ensured it was mostly empty, or out of the way. You had a solid floor plan, no walls aside from the ones that bordered the penthouse. The walls were white, the kind of jarring white that matched the floors. Expensive paintings and photos of a distant past litered your walls, colorful decorations hung from the ceilings. The kitchen was to the far left, it was rounded with a bar counter and an island in the center, fully stocked. Your flat screen television was at the far opposite wall, accented by nothing. The couches, the mahogany coffee table, the end tables, your bed, everything was pushed up against that same wall. It made the entire center of the home barren. Not that it didn't already look somewhat empty, but there was certainly something off about the sight.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your head tilted, ear turned toward the door that was far out behind you.

"Come in." You prompted in a sickeningly sweet tone. The door creaked open, in entered Crimson Countess, a smile plastered on her lips.

"Ah, Countess." You faced her, approaching with sure strides. You enveloped her in a strong hug, which she lightly returned. You could see the discomfort on her face, despite the smile she wore to hide any suspicions from you. You held her at arm's length. "Let me get a good look at you." You smirked, giving her a once over. "You look just as good as I suspected." The offhanded insult caused her to frown for a moment before she returned to her appeasing demeanor.

"Phoenix, you look..." Countess looked you over from head to toe, cocking her head and blinking away the initial confusion. "Not a year older."

"Trust me, Countess. It's a curse more than anything." Your gritted teeth betrayed your curved lips and bright tone. "Please. Let me get you something to drink." You quickly moved from her toward the bar, while she slowly twisted around and took in the appearance of your penthouse.

"What's up with the furniture?" She rose her voice a little to reach you, words echoing off the high ceiling.

"I'm making a few changes." You went behind the bar and began making her a drink. You were mixing and stirring, grabbing things from the fridge, working with a startling fluidity. "What's your poison?" She followed up to the bar counter, tentatively placing herself at it's edge.

"I'll take whatever you got."

"Sure." You both made eye contact, and you knew that Countess' uneasiness was well-founded then. "Something troubling you?"

"Well, uh-" She snorted nervously, "What have you been up to?"

"Not much, really. The usual."

"Hmm." You shook the cocktail you were making, procured two tall glasses from below with the other hand. You placed them down in front of her and then poured, a stern glare now adorning your face.

"You nervous?"

"No. Of course not. Just uh-" She shrugged, "You haven't talked to us in years."

"Sure." You immediately grinned, another knock at the door followed.

"Come on in." Black Noir and Mindstorm were the next to enter. "Wow, we got a buddy system going now."

"Phoenix, my dear, so good to see you." Mindstorm greeted, Black Noir was his usual quiet, observing behind the protection of his mask.

"Ah, Dan, how ya' doing?" You gestured Mindstorm to come closer and embraced him in a hug. He sent you a raised brow before you attempted the same to Noir, who stiffly stood there in waiting. "I expect the twins will be late as usual. I don't mind waiting. Want something to drink, Dan?"

"Sure." His eyebrows were furrowed and he was eyeing you in suspicion. "I'll take a glass of scotch on the rocks."

"Of course." You rounded the counter to continue serving your guests.

"Is there a reason you invited us here?"

"Oh come on, a girl can't want for a family reunion?" Gunpowder was invited, but you knew he wouldn't show. Moments later the twins came in, with their false smiles and their flaunty hero personas. The general vibe though was that something was off, and they were perfectly right in thinking that, you didn't invite them for nothing. But even after everybody got their drinks and things started to get comfortable, you were waiting on one more guest. He showed up excruciatingly late, entered your home with a placid expression. You knew his tardiness was purposeful, considering that the entire fiftieth floor of Vought tower was his hunting ground.

"Stan Edgar." Your former team had remained congregated around the bar, but there was an immediate shift in their energy the moment they saw Edgar. You hovered at the opening in the bar counter, drink still in hand as you eyed the man with a steely glare.

"Phoenix," He greeted, eyes lifting and examining every other hero that stood around you. "You invited your former teammates as well, I see."

"We, uh..." Countess gulped, standing straighter, "We didn't know she had invited you too, Mister Edgar." Everyone looked at Phoenix, your eyes were flashing red and your glass was turned orange from the heat of your hand. You inhaled a deep breath and placed it down on the counter.

"The annual celebration of life is tomorrow. It's the only chance I had to get all of you losers together." You stepped into the open space where Edgar now stood. You stopped directly in front of him, you stared into his eyes. He didn't flinch, his face didn't wrinkle in fear, he didn't beg. He knew exactly why you called him here.

"Where have you been Phoenix?" He asked, a casual way about him, you swore that even the edge of his lips curled into a half smirk. He crowned his fingers in front of him. You had seen him here and there around the tower, he had aged significantly since he was in charge of the teams affairs. Now, he was promoted, an executive, taking charge on Vought's boards and in all of the slimy crevices where Vought hid their darkest secrets. He wore a business suit now in contrast to the laid back, expensive garbs you recall him wearing when you first met him. He looked as corrupted as his soul, a real life devil. "For months, the top floor has been trying to get in touch with you."

"Vacation." You stalked away from him toward the window, your boots making deafening thumps in the stark silence that followed.

"Have you forgotten that it's been my word that has kept you here all this time?" You gritted your teeth and tilted your head away from the view, eyes squeezing shut.

"Do you think I want to be here?" The venom was practically dripping from your teeth with every word, back still turned.

"Hmm," Edgar pretended to sound surprised. "You've given us no reason to think you don't." You didn't reply and your quiet forced Edgar to continue with a sigh. "The remaining members of Payback have been moved around, they have adjusted nicely to their new roles, but you remain, why do you think that is?"

"Vought is afraid of me. They're afraid of what I can do. Someone like me doesn't just get to walk away."

"Arrangements can be made." Edgar offered and then the realization of what he was doing came to you in a rush. You spun to face him, unable to contain your growl. The others were a distance away from you and everyone, aside from Noir, flinched. Even Edgar had a fear in his eyes that made you very pleased.

"You want to know where I've been, Mister Edgar?" Your demeanor shifted again, you clasped your hands behind your back, under your cape and chewed the inside of your cheek. "I've been thinking about all those years ago..." Your eyes met his. "When my team told me that he was dead."

"I know." Edgar replied firmly, he shrugged. "And what for? Why trudge up the past?"

"Because..." You glanced at Payback, at their confusion and fear. "They were lying. YOU..." You pointed at him, your eyes flashed. "Lied to me."

"Phoenix..." Countess started, "We never lied to you." Her words were practically a whisper, but it was so deathly quiet that everyone could hear what she said.

"Ya'know..." You closed your eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. "I have been alive for sixty-four years and I have seen some fucked up shit, but this? This might just be the worst."

"What are you talking about?" Tessa, one of the twins, spat, but her body language betrayed her. She was afraid too. They all were.

"I was foolish enough to think it was a coincidence that I got sick. Right before one our first missions in a combat setting too." You faced Payback. "And then I thought some more..." You tapped your temple, "It was a really big coincidence that Soldier Boy ended up dead on that very same mission, the one that I wasn't there for." You cocked your head from side to side. "Me. The second strongest member on the fucking team."

"Phoenix-" Dan tried to interrupt, you continued.

"And then, I thought some more..." You paced. "Noir approached me a few weeks before that mission, before I was sick, and he asked me how I felt about Soldier Boy. Isn't. That. Weird?"

"You're overthinking this, Phoenix." Edgar lifted his chin, "Clearly, Soldier Boy's death has taken it's toll on you. Perhaps some therapy. We take the mental health of our heroes very seriously."

"Clearly..." You began fierce, your toes gently lifted from the ground, but you lowered yourself again. "I'm not as invincible as I thought. It took a lot of digging, but I figured it out."

"Okay, this has gotten out of hand!" Crimson had the bravery to step forward.

"Carbon Monoxide!" The room was drop dead again. You had caught them at their own idiotic game. "You fuckers were pumping it into my room. That's why no one ever visited me. And that's why when Vogelbaum came around he was always wearing a fuckin' mask."

"Phoenix, I think you should calm down." Edgar calmly suggested, you flared.

"Calm down?!" Your fists clenched, you had enough of this. "Soldier Boy has been somewhere in fuckin' Russia this whole time and you're telling me to calm down?!"

"We did what we had to do! He was out of control!" Dan explained, you could see he was shaking.

"He was the only person who understood how I felt and you fuckers took him away."

"He didn't care about you!" Countess shouted, "He didn't care about any of us!"

"He cared about me. He did."

"So, what's your plan then, Phoenix? What are we doing here? You found out what happened, what now?" Your eyes turned red for real this time, flames engulfed your fingers and Edgar was casually stepping back as if it was a day like any other.

"I'm going to kill you. All of you."

The first hit wasn't made by you. Crimson Countess threw a beam and before you could brace yourself you were being throw back into the heap of furniture at the far corner of your penthouse. It splintered and creaked, the flames from your body catching on fabric. You flew to the high ceiling and it crackled beneath your feet as you pushed off and darted down to her. Noir pounced on you after you tackled Countess, you easily threw him off and he went sliding into the corner. You could make out Mindstorm trying to get a good read on you and you knew you needed to focus on taking him out first, otherwise he'd be the one to put you out in seconds. Your fist put a hole through the marble floor when Countess rolled away from your punch. Noir kicked you in the head, you barely flinched at the blow despite the crack that sounded. Noir and Countess were more hands on, while Tessa and Tommy stayed away near Edgar, hands clasped between them as they waited for a good shot.

Noir got you into a neck lock, you were swinging about. When you flew up off the ground, Countess grabbed your ankle and yanked you down with what strength she did have. None of them could pin you for long though, you kicked her in the face and she was sent flying through the counter top of your kitchen. You spun rapidly to get Noir off your back, even bursting your entire body into flames, but he held on tight.

"This isn't going to resolve things, Phoenix." Edgar called from the seemingly safe spot that he had curled into. You removed a hand from the arm bar that Noir had around your neck and you threw a ball of fire to Stan, he dodged with a wide eyed and shocked expression, practically throwing himself to the floor to get away.

You managed to toss Noir off again, he smashed into the window and fell out, finding a grip at the edge. The high winds burst through, shattered glass spread out across the floor, your cape fluttered behind you and you faced the Twins, Dan, and a recovered Countess. Your chest heaved and smoke exited your lunges with every breath, you glared evilly at your foes.

"Don't make us do this!" Countess warned, your eyes turned red and flames rose up your arms.

"I'm not making you do anything..." You husked out, "You can just sit there." As you were whirling up a heavy wave of flames, the twins and Countess cast their beams at you. Noir jumped you from behind and held you in place. The entire penthouse went up in a massive explosion, smoke flowed from the open window, everything was destroyed, the marble floor filled with dents, cracks, and smudges of black. As the smoke dissipated, the dust cleared, you were rising slowly up from the floor. Noir was laid out flat, unconscious perhaps, you glanced at him to be sure. Countess was squatting, hands still branched out, blood dribbling from one nostril. The twins were propped back against the wall and Dan was hunched forward, arms shielding his head. Edgar was laid down in the corner, legs spread. He eyed you, scurried himself deeper into the wall. You scowled, with rushed strides you made way for him, about to fill your fists with his blood. Just as you were nearly there...

Mindstorm jumped out in front of you, your eyes caught his, the world disappeared around you.

You fell into the abyss.

...

"Phoenix..." His eyes raked over you like he was hungry, and not the kind of hungry where your stomach growls. "Not what I expected." You accepted his offered hand, you gave it a firm squeeze that even made his eyebrows lift. "Vogelbaum told me about you, a real spitfire."

"Soldier Boy. Vogelbaum told me about you too."

"Good things I hope?" Your hands returned and you both walked side by side through the sea of rich socialites that crowded the room. Light jazz music played in the background, you both were wearing your hero suits, visually putting you apart from the dozens of others dressed in expensive suits and sparkling dresses.

"As good as our profession would allow."

"Spoken like a pro."

"Well, I have been doing this for a while after all." He stopped and cocked his head at you, you turned to face him and smiled at the confusion written all over his face.

"Wait, what?"

"I got my first hero gig in the 60's. You're not the only one that's been around." He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head.

"That's impossible. That would mean that you're-well-" He squinted at you. "How old are you?" You laughed, then twisted yourself and slowly began walking away.

"It's not gentlemanly to ask a lady her age." He followed after you like a lost puppy, immediately taking the space at your side and keeping a slow traipse with you.

"How come I've never heard about you before?" Soldier Boy was fascinated, wide eyed, intrigued beyond his own belief.

"Before Vought came up with this..." You stopped walking with a shrug. "Team up idea, I was operating on the West Coast."

"So, California?"

"Sometimes." He blinked at you, reeled back.

"Sometimes?" He questioned, you rolled your eyes but you still had that coy smile on your face.

"Vought sends me all over. If I fly fast it takes me about three hours to go cross country. I go where they need me, I guess." This time, he looked you over again with an entirely different energy about him. He nodded his head with approval and lifted his chin.

"Damn, not even Lady Liberty could fly that fast."

"Lady Liberty can't do half of what I can, hun." You were bragging, flirting, laying on all the charm. He was a hot piece, you weren't going to deny yourself a little taste.

"That would make you the most powerful woman on the planet."

"Most powerful person." You corrected slyly, he bit his bottom lip, the action made your toes curl in your boots.

"Oh, I'm sure we could put that to the test if you'd like." The both of you held a deep stare and just as you were about to reply, red manicured fingers were curling around Soldier Boy's bicep, interrupting the moment.

"Phoenix, I see you've met Soldier Boy." Soldier Boy didn't look away when you did, staring intensely at you as you directed your attention to a beaming Crimson Countess.

"Countess, it's good to see you. You look amazing!" You reached for her and the both of you embraced in a hug. Your stomach immediately dropped when you saw how clingy she was being with Soldier Boy and how he was unflinchingly accepting it. You trained your disappointment not to show, instead keeping a sweet rapport with someone you considered a good friend.

"Thank you! You too." You both fell into easy conversation back and forth.

In the distance, past waves of people, conversing, drinking, swaying to the music, you watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest, sweat beading on your brow. There was a blurry haze that clouded your vision, but your focus was solely on the scene playing out leagues ahead of you. You could hear every word, understand every cue. Meanwhile, your presence was absent to all others around you. No one saw you: the obvious dark aftermath of the Phoenix they knew. Lonely. Completely devoid of life. With an uncontrollable desire to die. Numerous people had passed through your being as if you were a ghost, a mere image, a shell of your former self. This was a dream. That was the only explanation you had. A cruel, cruel dream.

"Ben." You whispered to yourself, watching your separate visage deflate as Crimson told you about Soldier Boy and her being an item. The former Phoenix forced a smile, collected herself and patted Crimson on the shoulder in congratulations.

"You guys make a cute couple."

"Aww, thank you, you're too sweet." She stepped toward you and wrapped her arm through yours. "I'm so excited for us to work together. The Legend is already talking about getting a photoshoot with you, me, and Tessa." Soldier Boy defensively crossed his arms, his demeanor taking a major shift.

"If you ask me, women don't belong in the hero world." Countess scowled, you were slowly starting to notice the animosity between them.

"Are you seriously going to start this again?"

"Just saying..." Soldier Boy looked between you both. "Women are really only good for cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children..." He tilted his head and his shoulder twitched. "Sex." He added with a finishing smirk and a wink in your direction. Countess went to make some nasty comment in response, but Phoenix was already speaking up.

"That's the old ways talking. This is the new world. Female heroes are the future."

"Keep telling yourself that, hot stuff."

The bantering continued, entering into a more political discussion that you recall being very one-sided; With Soldier Boy making outrageous claims and you immediately disputing them with facts. Countess was silently standing there after that. Upon her first entering the space that Soldier Boy and you shared, you had been the third wheel. After a few minutes of talking, it became very evident that the third wheel had become her.

You stepped closer to the scene, the distant memory, the dream, whatever this was. You looked so much brighter then. You were practically glowing with life and happiness. Things seemed simpler. You had a job, you did your job, you were happy with your job. You felt supported and stronger than you had ever been. Those times, you missed desperately, to only feel as you had in your younger self. As you were taking tentative steps toward the past, another figure invaded your path with swift and confident strides. You immediately recognized the person as a young Stan Edgar.

"No." You spat, the sight of him unleashed a venomous reaction you hadn't anticipated in yourself. "NO!" You shouted, following after the man. You realized then that all of your powers were gone. You couldn't fly or shoot flames from your hands or, in this case, beat Stan Edgar to a pulp. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" He burst the invisible bubble forming around Soldier Boy and you, reminding both of you that you weren't alone or in a private setting.

"Hope you all don't mind my interruption."

"YOU DO! HEY!" You waved your hands around, swatted them at Soldier Boy. They ran through his image as if he was fog. You didn't exist to them.

"Stan. Not at all." Soldier Boy greeted, Edgar sent him a half nod and then continued.

"We were hoping to gather up Payback for a team photo."

"Of course, that would be so nice." Countess answered for the three of you. She grabbed onto Soldier Boy's arm.

"Perfect. Follow me."

"Ben!" You were backpedaling directly in front of Ben with every step he took, your former self and Countess at either side of him. "PLEASE! YOU CAN'T TRUST THEM! You can't trust-" You inhaled a sharp breath, tears ran down your cheeks. "BEN!" You stopped walking and the images ran through you, you dropped to your knees and your palms shot up to cover your face. Your sobs were muted, wracking your body with harsh twitches and shakes. The world vanished around you, and another image took it's place. You sniffled, wiping your tears away as you lowered your hands to get a better look at your new surroundings.

It was your old apartment. From way back in the day. Your first home inside a growing Vought tower. They didn't even have fifty or so floors at the time, but the board was determined to go taller than the Empire State Building. Everything was as you remembered it; 70's styled furniture, peach colored wallpaper, the eyesore of a tv in your living room, the fluffy yet itchy carpeting. You could hear muffled conversation, only growing louder as you watched your older self enter the home. You stood to your feet, eyes narrowed on the man following you in.

You remember him, you thought, he was a Vought executive. Someone with a big name. But you didn't care about any of that as much as you cared about getting a quick release. It was always easier to date or sleep around within company borders, you didn't have to worry about someone spreading rumors to the paparazzi or the news. They had to look out for their necks as much as they had to look out for yours. And Vought was very, very particular about news that traveled and where it traveled from.

"Wow, they set you heroes up big time." He commented, adjusting his tie. He was of average looks; slicked back hair, a nice smile, a freshly shaven face.

"You think this is nice? Wait until you see my mini-bar." You bit your bottom lip, closing the door behind him and giving him a lusty once over.

"Oh yeah?" He snorted nervously.

"It's in my room..." You closed in on him, grabbing him by the tie and yanking, he had no choice but to come forward. "If you want?"

"If I want?" He repeated back, "Like I would ever say 'no' to you." His hands fell to your hips, you pulled him closer till your lips were touching. You were moving fluidly together, lips parting over one another, tongues mingling together, swapping spit, a little awkward on his part, but enough to draw a low moan from you. As things were getting heated-

CRASH!

The door to your penthouse broke entirely off the hinges, falling flat onto the floor, splinters of wood exploding everywhere. Soldier Boy stepped over the door, fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. The Vought exec was clinging to you for safety, putting your body between him and the door. You blinked at Soldier Boy in shock, before anger fell over you like a blanket.

"What the fuck?!"

"Who's this prick?" Soldier Boy hissed, gesturing at the man curled up behind you and using you as a shield.

"That's none of your fuckin' business! What do you think you're doing?!" You stepped forward, the man kept directly behind you, fingers clenched at your shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Ben shot back, grimacing when he followed your movements and approached as well.

"I'm trying to get laid, which is none of your business! Now get the FUCK out." Your eyes flashed red, the man winced and darted away from your body, he held at his hands. His palms were sizzling from the immense heat that had risen in you. He screeched and dropped to the floor. Neither Ben or you reacted, instead keeping your rage.

"Considering you turn me down at every turn, I'm thinking it is my business."

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!" You yelled in his face, at the top of your lunges, getting an inch too close.

"IT'S AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP!" He yelled back, Ben and you both knew that was a lie.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" You pointed at the door, shoving his shoulder, he only budged a little.

"HELP!" The man was rolling around on the floor, wiggling his burnt hands about.

"Look what you did!" You pointed at the poor guy, literal steam was coming off your skin you were so angry.

"What I did?! That was your fault!"

"Oh. There you go again! Always blaming it on me!" You stormed away toward your kitchen. "Can't take any accountability, can you? Ya' fuckin' asshole."

"You should take accountability for being a whore." He stomped after you, watching as you pulled a handle of cognac from beneath the countertop.

"Because I won't fuck you. Real classy!" You retrieved two glasses, pouring the orangey liquid into each glass.

You snatched up your chosen glass and sprawled forward into the counter, downing the glass in one go. Soldier Boy grabbed his glass, he eyed you with a sour expression, then sipped. Holding the empty glass up to your forehead, you sighed.

"We should probably do something about this guy."

"You don't want to know what I would do to him." Soldier Boy sassed, downing his own glass he limply dropped it back onto the counter.

"Fuck you." You grabbed the phone on the wall and made a call.

As you were intently following the movements of the past, the visage changed once more. You were surrounded by police cars, news trucks, standing in front of a bank. The alarms were going off, people were screaming inside as gunshots sounded. You were twisting around, trying to find out where you were. Instead, you spotted Soldier Boy conversing with the police chief. As he stepped toward you, a loud whistling split the sky, it went silent and everyone looked up. Soldier Boy kept walking, your former self was appearing from the clouds above, dropping down to the ground with a startling swiftness. He halted and you landed directly beside him, boots meeting the pavement with a thud.

"I fuckin' hate you." You growled, crossing your arms. Soldier Boy ignored you completely, squinting at the entrance to the bank.

"Seven hostages, three perps. We can go straight in, or we can take'em by surprise."

"I'm not really in the mood to prolong this, so let's just get it over with." You both calmly walked side by side up to the bank, Soldier Boy kept his shield posed at his side and a steely seriousness on his face. You trailed after them, desperate for another memory, for another feeling. Upon entering, Soldier Boy and Phoenix were both immediately bombarded with threats. Heavy duffle bags were stacked up over by the check-in desk, each perp had a handful of hostages. One of them had their gun held to the head of a woman, a bank teller, her eyes were red, filled with tears, makeup smudged down her cheeks, and gagged at the mouth with a tie. The robber's breathing was ragged, chest heaving with each pump of adrenaline, finger held on that trigger.

"Take one more step and the bitch gets a bullet!" He shouted, Soldier Boy and you froze, you glanced at each other. He was the first to shrug and look back to the robber.

"Okay." He said, completely nonchalant to the threat. The gagged woman whimpered at the prospect that she might die in that moment. That not even her heroes would save her. You couldn't find words, dumbfounded that Soldier Boy would even say such a thing. You stared at him for confirmation, he nodded to cue you in. He was going way off script that day.

"Y-Yeah..." You placed your hands on your hips and stood tall. "Go ahead and shoot." The robber did fire the gun, but next to her head and you knew her eardrum was blown out for it. You flinched, whereas Soldier Boy remained planted and terse.

"I'm not fuckin' around!" The robber yelled.

"And neither am I, stop being a pussy and keep to your word." The robber's eyes widened, you mirrored the man's expression and immediately sought to deescalate.

"The way I see it, you have two choices..." You gestured at them, "You kill the hostages and we kill all of you, or you let the hostages go and we take you in." Soldier Boy smirked, scoping out the men as they all shared uneasy glances.

"And either way, it's all the same for us."

"Except..." You emphasized the word through clenched teeth, directed at Soldier Boy, then added. "We much prefer that no one dies today."

There was a tense quiet that followed, a precursor to the chaos that erupted out of nowhere. All perps began unloading their magazines on Soldier Boy and you, little clinks and jingles sounded as the dented rounds fell to the floor one by one. The hostages that weren't gagged, screamed for their lives, ducking down as bullets seemingly came from every direction. Loud clicks started to sound, soon all of them were on empty. Soldier Boy and you looked down at the puddle of lead at your feet, then to each other. He smiled.

"They don't make dumb fucks like you anymore, do they?" Soldier Boy commented, you held your hand out to him and he grabbed it with his free hand.

"Our turn." You prompted, just as Soldier Boy twirled and easily took you with him, he tossed you at the main assailant. Your body was rolling through the air, landing directly against the criminal with a sickening crack. Soldier Boy jerked his hips and threw his shield at another. The last perp was trying to make a run for it. You had already killed the main one by breaking his neck and Soldier Boy's shield definitely left a mortal injury on the other. Usually, the two of you would keep one of them alive for the press opportunity of standing in front of a camera and smiling, like two hunters showing off a prized stag. But Soldier Boy made a dead sprint for the third, he had different intentions.

"Soldier Boy! Last one lives!" You reminded, but it was too late and he was tackling the man to the floor, pummeling his masked face in with a barrage of fists. After a few beats, he came to stand, blood spattered all across his face and the chest plate of his suit. "Was that really necessary?!" You shouted to him in annoyance, voice bouncing off the high ceilings of the bank, whimpers and sobs sounding in the background.

"I'm in a mood today, sweetheart, so shut your pretty little mouth."

"You think I wanted to be here either!" Neither of you anticipated a fourth male shooting up from behind the counter with a bomb vest and a trigger in hand.

"I'M LEAVIN' WITH MY MONEY OR NO ONE IS WALKING OUT OF HERE!!" Soldier Boy and you had moved ahead to stand beside each other. Your hands were on your hips, his bloodied fists dangled at his sides, you both carried a stone coldness about you.

"Listen, kid, did you not just see what happened?" Soldier Boy gestured at his three dead accomplices. "If you don't put that trigger down that will be you."

"If I push this button, everyone is gonna' die." The man was shaking to the core, you could see sweat collecting on his skin through the eye holes of his mask.

"Not us," You spoke up, "We won't feel a fuckin' thing. So, just put the trigger down. You're not accomplishing anything with this."

"Fuck you!" He yelled, lifting the trigger in the air. You weren't thinking, you flew fast and gathered him up in your arms. You shot up and crashed through the ceiling of the bank. The bomb went off just as you cleared the building, blood spattered all over, you were holding bits and pieces of a mutilated body in your hands. The fiery explosion disappeared in a haze of black smoke. After the initial shock of being covered in blood and guts, you were lowering yourself out in front of the bank. Your hands were still clinging to dead pieces of the perp, hostages were exiting the double doors behind you and sprinting into the safety of police officers and EMS.

"Phoenix!" Soldier Boy barreled out of the bank, nearly destroying the doors and pushing aside an innocent woman that was in his way. He cupped your cheeks and held you there, staring down at you, investigating you for any injuries.

"Soldier Boy, I'm fine!" You ground out, grabbing his wrists and prying yourself from his clutches.

"Don't ever do that again! Do you understand?!" He pointed an admonishing finger in your face, snarling at you.

"What?! It's not like I felt anything, I'm fine, okay? I saved everyone."

"You didn't communicate at all?!"

"There was no time to!" You chuckled in disbelief, palming your face. "Besides, you're the one over here not giving two shits about the hostages."

"You didn't actually think I was going to let those fuckers hurt them." He cocked his head at you, the corner of his lip tilted up in a charming smirk before he rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I would never allow that."

"Well, this isn't the first time." You elbowed his shoulder, then looked to the crowd. Aside from the officers and the hostages, news reporters were bursting at the seams to cross that tape and rush to Soldier Boy and you for an interview. They were already taking photos, despite the hefty distance, shouting your hero names. "I'm leaving." He grabbed your wrist, tethering you to the earth.

"Now hold on a sec, why don't we go get a drink? Unwind."

"I'm covered in blood..." You tore yourself away. "And the last thing I want is to be anywhere near you." He frowned, tonguing the inside of his cheek. The wind whistled as you ascended into the sky at full speed and disappeared into the clouds. His brilliant eyes followed after you.

Meanwhile, you were drifting through the bank doors, watching every aspect of these dreams that were swirling in your head. Soldier Boy faced you, he looked directly at you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you looked behind you.

"You." He spat, taking those few steps till he was within arms reach. The space that separated you both burned, your head began to throb.

"Me?"

"Yes. You." His strong jaw clenched and his eyes darted up and down your figure. "You can't trust them." He muttered under his breath, "They're lying to you."

"What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

"Wake up..." His words bounced inside your skull, you were hunching forward, clutching your head. "Wake the fuck up..."

Everything surged toward you, a heavy breath filled your lunges and you were jolting upright on a metal examination table. You were struggling to catch your breath, a palm naturally finding purchase at your chest to ease the pressure.

"Phoenix." Your eyes darted in the direction of the voice, Vogelbaum and a nurse were standing a safe distance away at the corner of the room. "Calm yourself." He smiled, it turned your stomach. "Everything is okay."

"W-What-" You were wearing a hospital gown. Your double vision focused until you were staring at Vogelbaum again. You blinked at him, eyes drifting shut, out of your control. "What happened?" You groaned, he turned his back to you.

"A gas valve went off in your penthouse. It's making headlines right now. You missed Soldier Boy's celebration of life."

"Gas valve?" You sat up straighter, weakly so, glancing around the room. It was all white, a lab of sorts, familiar to you from experiences that you had ages ago. You tried to prop yourself up on an elbow. "Soldier Boy?" You wiped your hand down your face. "W-What?"

"The blast knocked you unconscious." He turned to you, then started placing a bunch of stickies on your body, starting with your temple, then your collarbones, then your wrists and onward.

"What's going on?" Your voice trembled.

"Stay calm." Vogelbaum expressed, he cupped your cheek when he was done and smiled at you. "You're safe. This isn't like when you were sick."

"But how did I get knocked out? I-I-I've taken countless explosions."

"Well, you're getting old. It's normal to experience some wear and tear."

"Hmm..." You dropped your head into a palm and sighed. "I missed Soldier Boy's celebration?"

"Yes," He grabbed a clipboard, the nurse that was with him began clipping on a bunch of wires to the circular stickies, they were attached to a machine on a rolling cart. "Do you uh-remember him?"

"Soldier Boy." You propped your chin under your fist and nodded your head, a vision came over you and you were staring off into nothingness. "Yes." You gulped, shaking your head.

"Could you..." He waved two fingers at you. "Describe the day he died to me?" As you tried to collect yourself, flashes of lights and blurs filled your head.

"I uh-" Your eyebrows furrowed, the nurse flipped a switch and a short whizzing noise sounded. "Only recall bits and pieces." You shook your head, narrowed your eyes on him. "Why does that matter?"

"You were comatose for several days. You experienced a concussion," He dismissed. "I'm making sure that your brain is functioning to it's fullest capacity." He pulled up a stool and plopped down in front of you. "Phoenix, tell me what you remember about that day."

"Um..." You bit your tongue, itched your temple. "Soldier Boy and I went on a team-up. One of the Nuclear Power plants in Ohio. We saved as many people as we could. Ben told me to..." You felt a lump form in your throat. "He told me to go on ahead. The plant exploded and when I found him, he was a shell of himself. He died in my arms."

"Fascinating..." Vogelbaum mumbled, head buried in the clipboard as he scribbled notes. You glared at him and he got the message.

"What I mean is..." He tapped his pen at the paper. "It's fascinating that your brain recovered so much from the incident." You blinked at him, confused by whatever he was trying to hide. You knew he was lying to you, you could feel it. You just couldn't figure out why. "When you were under, your brain activity was off the charts. What was going on?"

"I-" You inhaled a deep breath. "I was dreaming about the past, I guess..." You snorted, shaking your head, eyes widening. "But it was like I was looking in, I wasn't apart of those memories."

"Interesting." His pen raced across the clipboard as he jotted down his thoughts.

"Look. I don't want to be here. When can I leave." He stood up, patted you on the shoulder.

"Sadly, we'll have to keep you under observation for a few more days." The nurse turned the machine off, it powered down with that same whizzing sound.

"I'll break out of here, then." Vogelbaum held his hand up, it did little to keep you from getting off of the metal table.

"Now, there's no need for that Phoenix. What's a few days to make sure that you're okay?" You sent him an uneasy grimace, then crossed your arms.

"Fine, but only a few. I'm not staying here longer than a week." You began unclipping the wires, "Scratch that. You've got two days."

"Okay," Vogelbaum nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard again. "I can do two days. Mind if I run a few more tests?" You collected the wires in your fist and tossed them to the nurse, who fumbled catching them all as they hit her chest.

"Not at all. I love being violated in every which way." Vogelbaum snorted, you sent him a sardonic look. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, he waved at the nurse.

"Jenny, would you give us a moment." As Vogelbaum passed you, you caught a reflection of yourself in the mirrored glass; two way, you were being watched. Nothing you were new to, you had been in this same position before. The metal door creaked as Jenny rolled the machine out of the room. It made a resounding thump when it shut behind her. The door must had been heavy, inches thick even. For something so minor as a bump to the head, Vought was taking some serious precautions.

"Phoenix, let's talk. Just you and me."

"This another test?" You itched the side of your neck, your fingers catching on one of the stickies on your skin. You began to peel it off, feigning a calm and collected outward appearance. Inside, your body was screaming, your head was pounding, you could feel a weight heavy in your chest. Your anxiety was getting worse with each passing second and you couldn't figure out why.

"Perhaps." He sat on the stool again, clipboard forgotten in the crook of his arm. "I know it's been a tough year-"

"Okay, we're done here." You rose to your bare feet, about to take your leave, removing stickies aggressively as you went.

"I'm trying to help you, but you have to work with me." You stopped at the metal door, with your back to him, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.

"I'm tired."

"I know." You rested your forehead to the metal. "The depression hasn't gotten better, I'm assuming." You turned to him, arms crossed in a defensive stance, then shook your head. "I've created something that might help." He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and procured a bottle of pills.

"Don't you know by now that medicine doesn't work on me." You said lowly, eyeing the orange bottle.

"This will. It's more potent than any drug you've ever taken, I tuned it specifically to you." He offered it toward you, "And I guarantee, it's going to make you feel very, very relaxed." You accepted the bottle, looking between his all too friendly smile and his creation raveled in your vice grip. "Try. For me?"

"Okay..." You bit your bottom lip. "I'll try."

Return to Master list

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester- A Promise

Pairing: Dean Winchester x PlatonicFem!Reader

Pov: Dean Winchester

Warnings: Fluff, Angst-ish, Yelling, Cursing, 18+

Summary: When Mary Winchester ruins her relationship with both Dean and Sam. Y/n only wants to help, so she sets something special up for Dean.

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers; this is a request from anon.

WC- 1.0k

Dean W. Master List // Main Master List // Requests Master List

Listening to my mother come up with some bullshit excuse was more than I needed in my life at this point. She claims she's not blind to the way the Brits work, but I think that's bullshit. We both think it's bullshit.

Sam had been taken and tortured by these guys, and all the other bullshit they had dragged us into. She was less than understanding of the fake people she was working with. Sam is more than disappointed; he never grew up with Mom. I did, but it's not like four years can make a real change. Mary wasn't the same person I knew so long ago.

"When did you start working for them?" Sam asks he looks so sad, but I can't throw my own anger to support him right now. We had been around a lot of liars, we are liars ourselves. "Since the lake house, it was their case." I stand there dumbfounded that we were somehow having this conversation standing in the bunker.

"You kept that from us." I relive the whole moment, Cass had almost died. Her words just started to mold together. her bullshit lies. A hunter had died, and all for what a better way of doing things. I could never believe that my mother was that type of person. The person who puts herself before others.

"Our whole lives you've been gone. You said that you needed time. No, you said you needed space, so we gave you your space. No, you needed space from us." She stares at me and my younger brother, and I can feel another set of eyes on me. Y/n, a girl we found over eight years ago. She was a young adult, but to me, she was my daughter a daughter that I don't think I'd ever want to walk away from especially not how my mother just did.

"I'm your mother, but I am not just a mom, and you are not a child" My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as I hear the words hit my ears. Not a child, I never got the chance. "I was never a child, so between us and them." Mary desperately tries to back the situation out of the corner it's been driving itself into. "It's not like that Dean." I swallow the words that want to come up, and look over at Sam, "Yeah it is Mary, and you made your choice so there's the door."

I at this point end up just walking away, my heart is broken and the tears burning at the edges of my eyes are hurting more than the anger I'm pushing further down in my chest. My daughter watches as I brush past her and into my room. Slamming the door, that's when the true and real emotion comes falling out of me. The tears fall and the way I just can't catch my breath.

I had just gotten her back, Sam had just started learning about his mother from his mother. All for Mary to go and fuck it all up because she wasn't honest because she lied to both of us. It's hours before I leave my room.

A knock on my door is what had me dragging my ass out of my room. the tears had stopped only a few hours ago, and the only thing that sat in my chest was the burning, boiling anger. I open the door, and there's my daughter Y/n standing with hopeful and sad eyes. "Dean, do you want to maybe come and watch a few movies with me?" She asks her voice cherry and trying.

As much as I would have loved to go out and watch a few western movies with her I just couldn't bare the thought of yelling or screaming at her all because of Mary. Or even worse bumping into her because she hasn't left yet. When I had haven't answered Y/n continued, "I even invited Sam, he's waiting for us." She tires, "Honey, I'm really not in the mood right now, so…" She nods like my anger is something she's used to having to work around.

It burns me, but she smiles, leans in, and kisses my cheek, "That's alright, Dad, you know where we are." With that Y/n is walking away and I shut the door. The way my heart burns in my chest. My daughter and younger brother were trying to get over the yelling and how Mary had burned everyone here in the bunker.

I stare at the shut door, and then at the picture of Mary and I when I was young. I pull out a book, a diary of sorts. I write down everything that happened. All the emotions I wanted to push deep down, all the things that went wrong, and all the things that could have gone right.

My wrist hurts when I smell popcorn being popped in the kitchen. The laughter that's filling the cold and silent bunker. I close the diary and poke my head out of my bedroom door. The laughter grows and it's a mixture of Sams and Y/ns. I can't help but be drawn in by it. I poke my head into my man cave. The lights are all off, the only light coming from the TV. An old western is playing on the screen, and all my favorite treats are on the table in front of the old couch. "Dean?" I hear Sam question, looking away from the TV, "Yeah, it's me." Y/n's eyes light up and she turns a massive smile on her face, she pats the open spot between her and Sam.

"Come sit here and we can restart the movie." She says with cheer in her voice. I can't help but smile in return, "alright" I move quickly, Sam and Y/n are smiling widely up at me. "What made you come out?" Sam whispered, I dig my hand into the bowl of popcorn, "The food Sammy boy." He rolls his eyes, while Y/n curls up into my side. "It will be okay Dad, I promise," Y/n mutters as the movie restarts. I lean down and kiss her forehead, "I hope so honey."

Completed on: 05/08/2023

Posted on: 05/08/2023

Deanie Beanie Girl- @kazsrm67 @deanswaywardgirl @ijustlearnedtolove-beep-bop-boop @mrspeacem1nusone @dilfloverr @akshi8278 @fofisstilinski @band--psycho @doctorlilo @wonderfulworldofwinchester @flamencodiva @samsgirl93 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @fanfic-n-tabulous @silverose365 @winchestersbitch-dm @alexxavicry @gabrielasilva1510

[soracities]

hi mim! i hope you're keeping well :) i wonder if you have any experience or thoughts on something, as a fellow late twenties-er:

how do you deal with unaccountable/unjustified cruelty towards you? like most people, i've lived through some bad times and have had pleeeeenty of people be mean to me, but generally as an adult, especially in the last few years, i do all right managing social situations & protecting myself, so i can safely disengage or accept the shitty stuff until the feelings dissipate. also, i try really, really hard to be genuine and kind to everyone, no matter what, and am relatively naive, so that helps limit bad interactions to some extent.

but earlier this year, i was trapped in a situation with a boss (they had power over me, so i couldn't leave) and was stuck listening to them hammer at me relentlessly with cruel, personal insults. (my union wasn't willing to do anything because of work politics.) my boss had teased out some misunderstandings and built them up in their head and let them fester until they felt the need to pull me into their office and scream really horrible things at me. they refused to let me defend myself and called me a liar every time i tried - basically begged - to explain where the misunderstandings must have come from, laughed at me when i asked them to stop yelling, threatened me over and over...i was full-bodied sobbing in front of them because i couldn't understand how this could have happened, how someone i knew and trusted (at work! not a shitty family member or abusive partner!) could snap and lose control like that at me. it was so so awful.

an older friend, who is much more cynical than i am, pointed out afterwards that this is par for the course when you're trying to be a nice and honest person; he tried to impress upon me the idea that if you are kind and passionate, you will inevitably & repeatedly encounter people who will harm you because they can do so without consequences. because if you care about being kind, they know you won't fight back. because if you care about your work, you'll do anything to keep doing it.

i have a really hard time with this perspective. again, i've lived through plenty of horrible things, no small number being directly related to injustice and prejudice, and i firmly believe that you don't get the chance to opt out of suffering in life. i know that there are worse things that happen on vastly different scales. i also know vocational awe and abuse is a real issue in the arts and in helping professions - i made it my life's work to help people who've suffered childhood trauma, as did my coworkers, but unfortunately the kind of people who run not-for-profits are rarely (if ever?) cool, decent people.

so i can't stop thinking about this day - i quit my job, even though i was eventually able to calm my boss down, because i have boundaries when it comes to yelling at work, but the excessive degree of cruelty sticks in my mind. i can't wrap my head around it because her behaviour feels so antithetical to anything i could ever even imagine doing to another person, especially in a workplace. i'm not obsessing over it, but this degree of meanness really sticks, you know? as we get older and encounter more people like this, how do we keep our hearts open? how do we make sense of cruelty when we have no way of fighting it or reasoning with it? as we get older and get a better sense of how limited our power is in the world, how do we let go and move on without losing hope?

I think we are able to let go and move on without losing hope because "letting go" is not surrendering our own capacity for action--it's surrendering the belief that we should be able to (if we are truly "good and virtuous" enough as people) control the responses and decisions of other people.

I think it's very easy to conflate the two: that letting go is the same as not caring, but they aren't mutually inclusive things in the least. And I think this idea maybe comes from the same perspective you described your older friend as having (and I am with you in this, because I do not abide by that belief either)--that if you are kind and passionate, you will inevitably & repeatedly encounter people who will harm you because they can do so without consequences. I think the biggest issue I have with this (and I have many) is that it assumes a responsibility for others' actions that you are not obliged to have. And in doing so it actually erases the notion of accountability (which we do have) by putting the brunt of it on a single party, effectively absolving the other (the person who acted cruelly and caused you harm in the first place) of any responsibility they themselves have. It's a perspective I don't like because it negates itself without realising, or acknowledging, that it does so but still posits its view as an undeniable truth about the world: by its own logic people have enough agency to act in cruel ways because they know they can get away with it (which implies a conscious, measured, analytic decision), but somehow not enough agency to be held responsible for that decision in the first place.

It's not an objective statement, but a self-fulfilling prophecy: if you are going to be responsible for other people's unwarranted mistreatment of you, then, yes, caring and sincerity aren't worthy endeavours--but only because you have actively created, and justified, a world in which your right to behave callously takes precedence and is, therefore (whether this is conscious or not, admitted or not), valued. And at its heart, I sometimes think that is what statements like this are about: they're an indicator of what we value in this world, even if we don't realise it, or would be horrified to realise it

I think that because this idea is so prevalent and exists in so many different variations--the idea that you have to guard yourself against others because people will "always" take advantage of you otherwise--it trickles down even to those of us who don't believe it; you convince yourself that any mistreatment has to be a failing on your part: your kindness wasn't good enough, your attempts at understanding weren't empathetic enough--in short: you made a bad investment and therefore you were not good enough. And when we fall into this trap, the same thing happens to us as happens to the person who harmed you: you lose sight of your own agency and your own capacity for decision-making, and the role these occupy in every interaction, for every person.

Being kind, open, and sincere, to me, are things that have very little, if anything, to do with other people--they are decisions that I have made regarding my conduct, my beliefs, and my hopes for the kind of world that I want to live in, and the world I want to build with each interaction I have with someone else. They are not a means of measuring my own worth in the eyes of others, or proving myself to people to show that I am good enough, I can be good enough, that if you let me show you who I am, what I am, how I am then surely this can overcome anything (because I am giving everything I have) and you can accept me and therefore I can accept myself--because the fallout of that is, like I said, that if someone rejects it and decides instead to offer cruelty, the edifice of my entire being falls apart: why? because I have hitched it all on someone else's decision. The decision that I made, the decision that I came to as a result of all my experiences, all my hurts and beliefs, all that I have learnt and unlearnt in order to get to a place where I can exist in the world in a way that gives me fulfillment (in essence: the sum of my entire life)--all of that suddenly doesn't matter anymore, and why? Because someone else decided to be shitty?

This is what I mean about agency, and about our own capacity for action. Someone else's choice doesn't have to be mine. But it is their choice. And if you offer kindness and are met with callousness, that is a choice on their part, not yours. Letting go of others' cruelty towards you, and cruelty in the world at large, is not letting go of your own beliefs or changing who you are and how you approach or live in the world. It's simply saying: this is me, and that is you--otherwise it'd be like deciding that you no longer like oranges because some random person thinks clementines are gross.

I don't necessarily believe that all acts of cruelty are beyond understanding, but I also don't believe that understanding is going to come as some kind of revelatory moment that will make it all make sense. But what I do believe is that, sometimes, especially when it comes to people treating us as horrifically as your boss treated you (and I really am so sorry that you were forced to endure something so awful for that long), when we look for understanding, what we're looking for is a justification: that there has to be a why to explain it all and tidy these painful interactions up like a neat and indisputable equation. But I don't believe that they are always the same thing. If I were to take any of the hateful rhetoric I see around me--sexism, racism, homophobia etc--and try to understand it I know I won't and never could, and I'm thankful for that: because, for me, the very moment it begins to make sense to me is the moment I have seen something in it that can be justified and that will never ever be the case. But what I can understand is how we have a world in which these exist--I can see and recognize all the various points of power and domination that require a constant renewal and generation of such intense violence and hate in order to maintain a status quo whose sole priority is its own preservation, at the brutal cost of anyone and everything else. That, in situations like these, is what understanding is to me: it isn't acceptance or justification but knowing how certain aspects of this world work so that I can make the decision to refuse them.

The key thing, I think, in trying to understand why people treat us unkindly, is knowing that we can refuse it, not by negating it as a reality (this is naivety and can, sometimes, be just as insular as blind cynicism) but recognising that sometimes people respond in ways that are the result of factors that have nothing to do with us personally--they could be the result of traumas, immaturity, selfishness, bad behavioural feedback loops or simply plain pettiness--but it isn't our job to somehow fix that for them.

When it comes down to it, at the heart of most pessimism (and some cruelty) is a reservoir of fear or pain, or some concoction of the two. Our world is a profoundly fucked up place, in many regards, and all of us accumulate a host of hurts and traumas as a result of that: you cannot always control the things that happen to you but you can control the decisions you make about your life and the actions you choose to follow as a result. Your boss made a calculated, deliberate decision to berate you in the most painful and humiliating way possible--this had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her. People who decide, consistently, to act cruelly will do so regardless of who is on the receiving end: it isn't about the person they target, but about whatever this cruelty and targetting validates for them and that is a choice. You cannot understand why she would do this to you because you know there is no justification for it. And that is something to hold on to because already it shows you that you are absolutely not like her. And that is where your agency and your ability to not lose hope lies.

I think the only way, sometimes, that I have managed to deal with this (and despair in general at the things that happen in this world sometimes) is to recognise what I can control and what I can't. It doesn't make things less painful, but it does make them less crippling. Whatever has happened in people's lives, the views they take as a result and the decisions that they then make--that isn't something I can change. All I can account for is how I respond, learn and grow from my own experiences. Other people can have their truths about the world, but I also have mine: and I assert it over and over again through the people I surround myself with, through the little actions I take to try and make it all as bearable as I can for myself and others, where I'm able to. I think, for me, recognizing the world's duality is part of that: knowing that cruelty exists, that pain exists, that senseless violence exists and knowing, too, that beauty exists, that graciousness, and openness, and kindness exist--and that I can resolve to bring more of those into the world and less of the others, even if it's only in my tiny corner of it. It may be small, but it exists. And if my life is a testament to nothing else but that, then I know I'll have spent it sincerely, regardless of what others choose to do with theirs. I really hope this helps you somewhat, anon 💕

[phantomoftheorpheum]

hi!! 😊 i liked that christian was a major red herring. it was nice to be validated even though i was expecting it. i like christian but i think he is a little too similar to tabby to be interesting as a love interest. they are the male and female versions of each other 🤣

johnny deserved better. although i think he was a little too understanding with imogen at times, he knew she was going through it and i respect him for that. the way she demanded to see his texts and look at his search history was such a red flag. of course i get it in this context but irl that would not be okay. maybe imogen need to be single for a while.

i don’t like jen. i will never like jen. she’s manipulative and a liar. i will never excuse how she deflected and made noa the bad guy in the conversation where noa attempted to confront her about robbing shawn’s house. how their shippers ignore that problematic behavior is beyond me. i’m sad that she will be in season 3. at least i’m not alone in this as i’ve seen a lot of people complaining about this ship in the pll original sin instagram comments. i hope the writers hear our complaints. it has made noa my least favorite liar when i used to love her.

Hi! I agree!

You are so right about Christian! I should have trusted my 2x01/2x02 gut that he was a red herring, but then I got so suspicious of the fact that no one was suspicious of him when they obviously should be. jksdhfksdf. I'm still baffled by how Tabby didn't think to put either Wes or Christian on their original suspect list, considering their love of horror and the masks stuff, but I'm just gonna have to learn to accept that. I'm glad Christian was good too, though. I never wanted him to be bad, just was very suspicious he might be. They definitely gave him some dialogue that pointed his way. But he was a good red herring! He worked until the finale when they started getting suspicious and then I knew it wasn't him.

I have said it once and I will say it again, Johnny is quite literally the chillest dude on the planet (😂 this will never stop being funny to me, I am sorry). I'm also glad that he's not bad because I think he's an enjoyable addition to the cast and I hope he is in next season (again, assuming they get a next season) because we still know almost nothing about him, so they could do a lot of fun things with his character. But I do think Imogen needs to take some time, regardless of the Johnny stuff (I mean, he really should NOT want to date her ever again because she nearly killed him??) because this was a mess. I also think all the girls (but particularly Imogen and Tabby) do still need mental healthcare, but obviously not with Dr. Sullivan.

Aaaaahhh, the Jen stuff. I just kept thinking there was going to be some sort of reveal/resolution that made the Jen stuff feel like it worked in the season and had a reason to be there. I had so many possible scenarios I was willing to accept. and yet, they managed to find one which was none of them??? I can't believe I sat through so much love triangle crap for literally no payout. I hate love triangles and the only redeeming quality is that they usually have a big blowout scene when it all comes out, but they didn't even give us that???? It will be interesting (assuming they get a season 3) to see if they respond to the criticism like they did with the Ezra thing, because a lot of people feel Noa's carelessness about the situation (and she was super, super manipulative towards Shawn throughout this, as well) ruined her character for them. Now, I think it's fine to tear a character down and need to build them back up, and I think it's good to see the Liars engage in flawed behavior, the problem I have here is... they (the show) have given no indication that they think they actually DID tear Noa's character down? Like, I am sorry, but her behavior was flat out cruel and she felt a tiny bit bad about it for like 2 seconds and faced absolutely 0 consequences, and that, not that she made some terrible decisions, is the real problem here. It's not "tearing a character down to build them back up" or even "giving a character flaws" if those things are never acknowledged as flaws and terrible behavior in the first place? Ugh. There was just so much potential with this storyline (literally so much!) and they just threw it all straight in the trash.

[peachjagiya]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachjagiya/747891487375753216/im-not-a-shipper-and-definitely-in-no-way-a-jkkr

I hope you don’t see this as me being combative. I am honestly just trying to understand something.

I am aware that not everything the members tell fans is the truth and i certainly know that sometimes they will flat out lie or tell half truths to protect their privacy and themselves and I 100% get that. What i don’t get though is why they would lie about not seeing each other? Also, why do you get to pick and choose what you think is a lie and what you think is the truth? Isn’t it possible that they could also lie about things that reinforce your belief? I would not expect them to admit to things that could clearly out them as a couple but there are just certain instances where there is no point in lying. For example, on Jk’s birthday in 2022, Jin went over to his place and started naming all members and asking if they had come to greet Jk and Jk said Hobi and Jimin came over and when Jin asked about Tae, Jk said he didn’t come. In this case why would Jk lie? He could just group tae in with the rest who came and that wouldn’t be weird or suspicious would it?

The example you gave about Jk and sex don’t really fall in line with what i am saying. Jk never said he has never dated did he? He didn’t even say he isn’t dating, he said he doesn’t have a girlfriend but not having a girlfriend at that particular point in time doesn’t mean he never had one. He knew the implications of saying he knows everthing he has to know yet he still made it clear that at the moment, he didn’t need a girlfriend and just wanted to concentrate on work.

You don’t have any concrete proof that your ship is real, all you have are moments and the things they say. If you begin to doubt everything they say unless it is something that reinforces your belief then don’t you think that is a problem? You cannot decide that they lied just because they said something you didn’t want to hear. Besides why would Tae be able to openly tell everyone Jk sings a song for him yet he can’t admit that he saw Jk on his birthday? Or why would Jk be able to tell everyone that Tae heard his song first yet he lies about knowing where Tae is? You see how you pick and choose? If you really believe that they lie about simple things like this to protect themselves or not out themselves then why would Tae post a facetime pic of himself and jk both shirtless knowing that a huge part of this fandom ships them? I don’t think it makes sense.

Not combative at all. It's fair points.

I mean... Maybe Tae just didn't see him on his birthday. And maybe that's not a problem? Maybe Tae had other plans for celebrating with JK? Like we don't know but I know a ton of people who simply don't value their birthday. I've not seen my wife on her birthday every single year.

I don't always take it as face value if it benefits Taekook either to be honest. In the more personal lives, yes for sure.

But if it's true that we're not supposed to think of them as even close, and there's evidence to suggest that's how it's been presented, if they're saying they are close, I do pay attention to that. Because it's not the company line and there's no benefit to lying.

2018, JK has a mental health situation.

2018, Tae has a mental health situation.

Jin, I cannot remember when but it doesn't matter: "Jungkook wasn't talking to any members"

2018 Festa: "I received the text" "the other text was to me"

2023 Suchwita: "Me and Jungkook were reading those texts together."

Conclusion: JK was talking to one of the members. But Jin couldn't say "he wasn't talking to anyone except Taehyung."

Jin isn't a liar. Jin is either unaware or leaving that detail out. Either way...? There's Taekook stuff they're either unaware of or aware of but omitting.

Slowly the bigger picture is revealed. All Tae does is expand upon what we already knew and fill in what was left out. So I do tend to listen more to those extra details, yeah.

As for why they'd ever say anything about their relationship... I think they've been braver with the freedom of hiatus and I also don't expect them to be able to hide it without going slightly insane.

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S05E01 - Lost in the Barrens - Part C

Sarah, for my sanity, next time you have a hunch and want to check if someone is the killer, take some backup!

Too late.

Like I said, it's too late.

Well, if my calculations are correct, he's not even in the middle of this. You can shoot.

"I've had enough of this bullshit."

Oops, maybe Rex made a mistake there. Or they were just unlucky.

This is not weird. I'm just trying to see if he's wearing a harness, honest.

Crisis averted. Well, one of them, anyway.

What do you mean? He's a grown ass man. He can choose for himself.

Yeah, I absolutely cannot adequately capture Sarah's disarm of Jessika (with a K?) using screenshots.

You're late, Joe.

Joe with Charlie: Oh you fool, all my grey hair are because of you, how can you not have the slightest sense of self-preservation, oh, you'll send me to an early grave! Joe with Sarah: Oh, Sarah, you know I care about you so please do me a favor and bring backup next time? Pretty please?

Again, Charlie, who is pretty much the only investigator in the city, always takes Rex with him. And he still ends up in shitty situations like, a lot.

Charlie is on a mission to pair every problematic guy with a dog.

Hello. That's not Charlie's car. I'm not sure they even managed to find the right model.

He's not.

I can't believe they worked Rex's number two in that conversation, which also apparently "took a while". What are you two feeding him?

"For some unexplainable reason, no. You are my person."

I think Charlie's eyes popped out of their sockets a bit. Mine too, the first time I watched this.

I will now re-enact my first impressions of this scene:

"Okay, that's cute."

"Wha-Wha- yes, of course, they're going to kiss, but her hand... her hand???"

"Oof, they're hot."

"Well, that lasted as long as I th- wait. Wait."

Pause for the slightly funny way Charlie bumps his nose on Sarah's cheek as he changes angle and lands almost in her eye.

"There's more???"

"Wha- What is happening??? They can't do that... can they?"

*incoherent noises*

"Her hands. Her hand on his neck and his back and she's smiling and he picked her up with one arm fuuuuuuuu"

"See what I've had to deal with for the last few months?"

Okay, so, whoever says that they didn't want to see some of what happened before this point and particularly right after S04E16 in Charlie and Sarah's relationship is a lying liar who lies (people who don't ship Charah are obviously exempt). There's a lot of firsts we missed and I for one am still mourning the loss. But you can grumble about what you missed and still like what you got. This episode was a good season opener, the case was engaging, and they all got some time to shine (maybe Jesse a little less but he got some time in the sun without having someone try to kill him so... win?).

There's not much of an explanation about how Charlie and Sarah got to this point, this is the most abrupt way to continue a relationship that I've seen after a cliffhanger that had left them in a will-they-won't-they situation. But because the season was filled with scenes of their development as a couple, it's not as annoying as it could have been. It's still annoying, though.

[autiboards]

lies and truth .

thinking about something from when I was a kid . might be just me or might be autism or everyone . I don't know . but until I was 13 or 14 , I didn't realise conversations were supposed to be about real things . I thought that conversation meant talking and reacting , so would tell whatever stories would get best reaction . I thought any conversation that was not ' pull to side , we need to talk ' was story time , didn't matter if real or fake . took until years later to find out that people thought I was saying things that actually happened .

I was called a liar about a lot of things , even things that were true , and I didn't understand why . might have been a theory of mind thing , maybe I thought people could tell when I was making stories up or telling the truth . anyway , because of this nobody believed me when I said anything , and was stuck in lots of bad situations for long time because if I tried to say anything it was dismissed .

now, I understand why it is important to know something is pretend . I don't even see the point in lying . it is never my first thought , I am bad at making up lies that are believe able quickly . but I do like to tell stories , and I can make those up . I have just learned how to make sure people know it isn't real . but I still think of myself as liar , especially when I was a kid . I think I need to keep remembering that I have a communication disability , and that I didn't know things like that back then , so I didn't know I was lying , so I am not a liar . I made mistakes in conversation often . and people assumed I knew rules I didn't , so they told me I was doing it on purpose .

[dragon-communion]

I find Unalloyed Gold almost impossible to understand since FromSoft utterly refused to engage with it, despite the DLC tease focusing on Miquella (liars!), but I do think I've gotten a decent handle for "twisting time" to perfect a true protection against the Outer Gods.

Part of the issue in dealing with them, in the particular situation of them possessing/corrupting hosts, is actually accessing them. Space-time is exactly as the name says, it's space and time, and together it punches access into the so-called 4th dimension where it appears the Outer Gods reside. Or at very least, is the unaddressed vector by which Miquella's warding was unable to defend against.

It's why in theory, you're loop-holing the fact Miquella's equation is incomplete due to him not being aware the missing factor is "manipulating time" to precisely coordinate attacks and construct defenses in the Storm Beyond Time. The current Needle seems to have mostly perfected the "space/material" aspect of the equation to freeze your state, even as you're still left vulnerable to further attack, so inserting it in a place where time is being so manipulated to the point Placidusax has taken it out of the equation... Means the missing link isn't an issue, thus the banishment. But the moment you step out of the Storm and potentially remove the needle, reinserting it won't do jackshit because it's still flawed.

What's your thoughts?

I think you've given me a wild idea on why Miquella is the way he is, in terms of odd powers.

Miquella is apparently capable of stitching shut holes in the warp and weft of reality, or he would've been if he ever fully completed his Needle. Literally the only other thing I can think of in terms of weaving abilities in the Lands Between is Miquella's cocoons, and Boc. We don't even have any fucked up fantasy spiders.

I cannot begin to explain the horror I felt when I saw the Haligtree cocoons, for the record, I thought I was going to have to fight a giant spider.

Since Miquella was growing wings though, I'm going to run with the idea that he's silkmoth-adjacent.

I think Miquella's Unalloyed Gold probably came from his blood somehow? Blood does have a type of iron in it, but iron as a nutrient is not necessarily the same thing as iron you can melt into an ingot. That aside, though, I don't see why a magical demigod couldn't distill supernatural metal from his divine ichor.

I am extremely frustrated by the existence of his cocoons because I have no idea if they're implying Miquella has/had spinnerets, and that seems like a pretty big mysterious detail to gloss over. It's not like he spun the cocoons out of his hair, his hair's blond. And part of the reason I'm obsessing over the material of the cocoons is that I believe they're either partially made of Unalloyed Gold, or otherwise immune to rot because they're sourced from Miquella's bodily fluids in a similar fashion.

On top of that, all of the people in the cocoons seem to be frozen in stasis. Whatever their transformation was likely failed when Miquella was kidnapped- maybe they were supposed to hatch at the same time when he became a giant god-moth or something- but the fact that they're in stasis seems Very Important to me. And they've been there for at least a couple hundred years, because Miquella had to be present and walking around to wrap anyone up, and he's been gone awhile.

I think Unalloyed Gold is sort of an eldritch antibacterial metal, anti-god metal if you will, and the reason Miquella is even capable of making it is because his body had to actively fight off Malenia's rot when they were babies in a way no other being had before, with the added advantage of bizarre Empyrean potential. Something generated by his immune system that he then studied, extracted, and refined to apply to other people. He's the only person we know of who's entirely immune to the Rot, after all- so what else is he immune to? Gods in general? Who can say.

The needle is also why I believe Miquella made Torrent's whistle. Jewelry is very, very different from armor, and requires a practiced delicacy. Whistles are even harder to get right, as far as I know. The needle is a testament to Miquella's skull with delicate metalwork- that thing looks braided, as opposed to just drawn and rolled.

Either way I find the possibility very funny, that Miquella the potential moth could have been doing something to fix holes in spacetime. Let him chew on the fabric of reality, as a treat.

[limetameta]

ok so i’ve been asking everyone today: if you were to add a third person to royai, who would you add and why?

Interesting ask! I have 3 candidates depending on the absurdity and toxicity scale lmaoo. On the lowest rating we have Best Girl Rebecca Catalina. This is a Riza Hawkeye WINS scenario because she now has two of her favourite people together w her. She has two hands and she's happy neither is holding a gun.

Next up I believe it would be SO FUNNY if Jean Havoc got his heart broken one too many times and is just like YOU KNOW WHAT - goes up to Roy Mustang - SIR I'VE QUIT WOMEN *confesses his feelings* and Roy is like sputtering "But I'm with the Lieutenant-??" And Jean is just like: "With both of your permission, the Lieutenant is too scary to be a woman. She doesn't fall within that category for me." Meanwhile Riza is like *unlocking the hidden box in her brain w all the scenarios she imagined putting Roy and Jean through for her own amusement* "Colonel, I think this is a fine idea."

And then my worst contender my toxic blorbo my squiggly little freak my love to put him in situations he cant get out of unscathed bastard my says it how it is and doesnt give a shit about tact short king - Solf J. Kimblee.

Manga characterization only for this man because Fmab made him into a one dimensional bastard and I dont mesh w him. They took out your nuance king!!!

Ishval toxic trio. Riza sleeps w Kimblee because this is as close to self harm as she can get to. Roy wants to fight Kimblee because of this. Kimblee goads him into fucking instead. Now Riza and Roy have this weird thing going on where theyre not gonna sleep w each other but theyre dancing around it via fucking Kimblee. Kimblee, incredibly pleased w himself, is like I am going to get these two to fuck even if I have to be in the middle of it. I love whatever they have going on. It's so ugly. Ipso facto, the culmination is a threesome where they're all nasty. It can end just like canon where Kimblee goes to prison , Roy burns Rizas back, and theyre nothing but coworkers w A SHIT TON OF HISTORY. Kimblee gets out of prison, finds out theyre still lying to each other about their feelings: *sigh* I am so disappointed. It's just two steps forward five back with those two. / or Kimblee doesnt go to prison and he's just like COMMITTED to getting them together because he doesnt have a philosopher's stone and so this is how he's going to fill his time. Also loves getting fucked on the side, he's a man of very simple interests. Funniest addition would be if he's part of Team Mustang.

"I can either talk about Ishval or I can arrange a date for you w Riza. Your choice, Mustang."

Mustang, deeply uncomfortable by this man: "I wish you were in prison."

Kimblee: "You're the fourth person who's said that to me this morning actually! :D "

Dynamic for this would be - Riza and Kimblee are kinda friendly because theyre fucked up emotionally / Roy cant stand Kimblee meanwhile Kimblee is like I LOVE annoying this man / and Riza is like god you know maybe I shouldn't waste my life yearning and I should confess to Roy... on second thought... no. Too scary. / Roy is like THESE ARE LIES AND SLANDER I FEEL NOTHING BUT FRIENDSHIP TO THE LIEUTENANT / Kimblee, hands to his mouth to shout: YOU'RE A LIAR NOW, TOO, MUSTANG? For shame! Don't look away from your feelings.

[chaifootsteps]

Hey Chai, I know the Hazbin leaks are the main talk right now and I'm sorry to bring it up again but I am so conflicted about Jane's document you mentioned a bit ago.

I read it all, and at first I was believing every word, felt so bad for Jane, all these horrible endless turmoils that happened to her. Then when I went back through and started reading the screenshots I started seeing contradictions. They'd be like:

Jane is just saying the claim to someone else on Discord (which provides a likely timestamp but not necessarily definitive proof)

There's not much present that actually backs up Jane's claim

Context appears to be missing

The proof occasionally contradicts itself

Jane says one thing in one screenshot while saying something different in another. (One Example: In one she lies/downplays what she told people about Avery and tells Karli she just "saw him giving people massages" and "never said he got me drunk .. only that I wondered if he wanted to try to" then in her conversation with Avery's ex she literally tells her "he was awfully touchy with women at the party" and "he tried to get me drunk.")

(Another example was she claimed Steven was abusive, but you read all the screenshots she provided and it's just her talking at Steven and occasionally trauma-dumping, with him responding in either supportive or neutral/blunt ways or requesting reasonable boundaries considering that she's living there rent-free and with free groceries. She titles a few screenshots "Steven being weird about my d*ck" then the screenshots just show HER bringing up her d*ck and him asking Jane to avoid making a mess when she pees and offers she could try sitting down because he does that to avoid making a mess too.)

I'm not trying to defend Ang, or anyone else in the doc, and I'm not trying to say Jane's a liar that shouldn't be trusted, but maybe to caution people to go back and re-read it with ALL the screenshots and make more careful judgement when not just Jane but anyone comes out with a long list of extreme claims.

I also think Jane might've misread some situations considering how young she was at the time + her trauma + C-PTSD + her DID. That is not me trying to say she didn't suffer, or that some of her claims aren't true, or that some people mentioned in the doc didn't make poor decisions, and it's possible for some of them Jane just made poor choices in the screenshots she included or something.

( And outside of the doc Jane recently claimed on Twitter that Ang faked their su*c*de and went on about how that affected her but... we all know Ang was publicly open about their declining health and that they were ready to leave socials to succumb to it because they had no medical care and no money to get it and were getting worse. And then people assumed that meant A. Instant Su*c*de, B. Ang is now dead, and spread that around like wildfire until people involved had to be like "Ang isn't fucking dead they're approaching EOL what are y'all talking about." Idk if Jane misunderstood that, or if Ang truly did additionally fake their suicide behind closed doors, I find the latter less likely, but food for thought I guess. )

If you're open to it I can send you a few more main points in the screenshots that felt contradictory to me, if not I'll just leave this ask as it is, and thanks for reading it, it's okay if you don't post it.

It's...a tangle, for sure. I honestly don't know what to make of it myself.

I will say that if Ang isn't dead or dying I would like more solid proof of that, because when I talked to them years ago, they were in frighteningly poor health. Their spinal fluid was leaking to the point where they could taste it in their mouth, and when people had said they'd died, I wasn't surprised. Not even the slightest bit.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Shaking her head, she replied, “No need, I can do it myself.” It’s not like she was deliberately trying to push Hiccup away… Well, okay, maybe in a sense it was, but not like that; she just wanted to do it on her own.

“Mhm, sure whatever you say.” She still firmly believed that he wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful. “I shouldn’t have to lean on anyone, I should be way past that by now.”

Her eyebrow raised as he spoke, listening intently to what he was saying, her eyes fixed on the sand.

The other dragon riders, those were the only people that knew at the time; Astrid, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and…

Snotlout.

“Oh for Thors sake, it was Snotlout! You seriously weren’t going to tell me that?! Are you kidding?!” She glared at him. “No. You do not get to take the blame for him, the only thing you should blame yourself for is not telling me when I had every right under the d*** sun to know!”

She stood up abruptly, anger etched across her. “I can’t even describe how mad I am at both you and him right now! And what do you even mean they would’ve found out sooner than later?! No they wouldn’t! Not if Snotlout hadn’t gone and ran his mouth off!”

“Oh yeah? And how did you ‘deal with him?’ Give him a little slap on the wrist and send him on his way? Would you have done that if Spitelout executed me? Just let him go even though he would’ve been an accomplice to murder?!”

“You know what? No, I can walk home, I don’t need a ride, especially not from you.”

He knew she'd be angry, but he hadn't quite prepared himself for her being this angry.

"I didn't want to say who because I knew how you'd react!" Mostly. "And you know if I had told the people myself, that whole situation would have been avoided. That's why I blame myself, Danny. You even said you thought everyone already knew..."

Standing up, he started pacing, running a hand through his hair in frustration, his breathing becoming more rapid.

He whirled back around to face her again. "Of course not, Danny! Do you really believe that? That-that if you had been killed, I'd react so...so heartlessly? I'll have you know, firstly, yes, I already dealt with Snotlout, he not only got an earful from me, but he'll be shoveling dragon poop til Thor knows when. The dragon race today was his last as well, for an undetermined amount of time. I can't do anything more, because then Spitelout will come back with a vengeance."

His voice was getting louder as he paced and rambled, his breathing still rapid, his hand movements still animated, but incredibly tense and almost stiff.

"I may be chief, but I can't go around doing whatever I want! There are laws I have to adhere to, I know you know that already. If Spitelout had killed you, he'd have gone after me next, he made that much clear. If I survived and kept my role as chief, he would have faced trial and most likely an execution, and thank Thor he didn't kill you...but unless he breaks a law, my hands are tied. I can't do anything." At the last word, his voice sounded almost broken.

Gods, he hated the politics of it all.

"Do you think I like keeping things a secret? It's necessary, yes, but I'm a terrible liar, and everyone knows it." He stopped pacing, his voice getting a tinge of desperation to it. His hands were up, but curled inwards, like he was trying to find something lost within himself, and he didn't know what to do. "I'm on thin ice with the people as it is right now, one more slip up, and...they might decide that Berk is better off without me. They'd get rid of me, and then Spitelout would be next in line and you know he'd go after you first thing..."

Running a hand through his hair again, he let out a defeated sigh. "I can only do so much..." Turning back to her, he quickly added. "Now, I know you, don't you start saying or thinking that you never should have stayed in the first place, that you think you're nothing but trouble, because those are all lies, and you know I won't stand for it."

Toothless hesitantly stepped forward, eyes wide, hoping to persuade Danny to change her mind, to come for a flight.

Hiccup shook his head. "You said you were tired, and your hut is a long walk away, especially in the dark. Toothless and I can get you home in just a couple minutes." He held out a hand towards her. "You can be mad at me all you want, but please let me give you a ride home."

[missazura]

Maybe they don't take the abuse situation serious because they don't believe or don't what to believe despite what they may have seen and heard themselves, that an old lady could pose any danger to anyone, that's why they may think you are "overreacting".

One time an old lady my mom was helping, she said her sons and daughters were abusive to her, came to stay a day with us, my mom went out to get somethings done and left me with her, I was doing things around the house and always offered her water, lunch you name it, but she always flat out refused

"no my dear" she would say "go and do your things, I will be ok"

And so I went to my room to do homework, and you know what she did when Mama arrived?

She told her that I was trying to starve her that I did not even give her water and that I hated her.

The thing is ,my mom didn't believe her, because not only have I made her a plate and left it in the fridge, each and every time I offered her something and she refuses it I would text it to my mom.

When she was called out in her lies she became furious, she said to my mom that we were trying to humiliate her just like her family did and that we were evil human beings and that my mom preferred to take my side, a dirty little liar, than to take the side of the real victim there.

Moral of the story, her kids came to collect her, said she always did that, played the victim, tried to make people pity her so she could enter their house and become the center of attention.

She went kicking and screaming.

Never heard of her again, her kids said they would make sure she never did that to anyone else.

"she already did this to us, we can't let it keep happening"

I felt awful for days after that, so imagine you having to live through the same shit every day?

Your grandma is abusive, you live in and abusive home with an enabler family.

You aren't wrong, for wanting to go away, to set boundaries, to not want to be near her.

Old age doesn't equal innocence.

And she is everything but.

Stay safe, get away when you can.

thank you. thank you so so much for sharing this with me. That's exactly what I'm going through, I'm so sorry that you had to experience that no matter how brief it was- it was more than enough to make you feel horrid. I'm so glad the lady isn't there anymore to hurt your family.

my grandma's the same way how she would rope in literal strangers and "adopt" them within 30 mins of meeting. she would use her sappy life story to make them pity her, at the same time throwing every single family member who's been taking care of her under the bus. I'm heartbroken that others are enabling her actions but I understand at the same time, I was in the same place before I pursued therapy a couple of years ago. I can't expect them to be on the same level as I am.

still, being told that "come on, your grandma didn't try to kill you" after almost choking to death and grandma being present and doing NOTHING, not reacting or helping at all- is just. traumatizing. she didn't have her hands over my throat but she was neglecting that I needed help. she SAW me choking the first minute from her bedroom, went to approach me, sat down in front of my seat at the dinner table, pulled out her phone and played Youtube on max volume. ignoring me while I struggle to call for help because there was vomit building up in my windpipe. my cousin came out of her room to help me. all the while grandma still fixated on her phone and ignored me even after I recovered.

I don't know how I'm supposed to not think that was legitimately "leave you there to die" situation.