#A few good men 1989

[philiponmycracker]

Did you know: In 1989, Tom Hulce - once again with gorgeous golden hair - opened the first og Broadway production of "A Few Good Men" by Aaron Sorkin, as Lieutenant Daniel Kaffee.

THAT same role later played by Tom Cruise (aka The Wrong Tom, I mean nothing personal but jfc) in the hugely successful feature film of the same name in 1992.

Just saying, between the two Mr Hulce would have definitely brought a much more sensual, emotional, dramatic flare to the film. NO CONTEST. Imagine mixing the arrogant gay drama of Amadeus with the feistiness of Legally Blonde, do you see my vision? I KNOW Mr Hulce could have simply marched in into that courtroom - with blonde fluffy hair, intense blue eyes, and in uniform (god help me) - his sweet sassy Twinkish features turning red hot with fury, ready to kick some Marine ass, and everything would have instantly turned so Gay, Fabulous and Sexy! And it's a fact that Sexiness is crucial in every courtroom drama. I know I'm fuckn right

[carpkoinobori]

[⟢] cop car — karina x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): cop car - mitski | no te pido mas - helenita vargas | de oro - la familia andre | la murga - willie colón | la cuchilla - las hermanas calle

summary: you grew up desperate and made your way to the top, even started working for DAS. but your first assignment shouldn’t have been this— they sent you to die. your body lived, though. you didnt.

pairing: patrón!karina x halcón!reader (also x teniente!giselle)

tags: angst, like horrible angst, toxic and I mean Very Toxic yuri, major character death, implied sexual content, this is DARK, set in 1970-90’s colombia, kind of ambiguous but happy ending? reader is lowk stupid and a bop

wc: 10.9k

cw: karina is horribly manipulative, cartels, guns, selling, making, and use of drugs, use of weapons, murder, bombs, death, etc. this is about the colombian cartel ok shit is fucked.

ex: before there’s any outrage I AM COLOMBIAN. all information is acquired through primary sources (ex: family who literally lived through it). most info will be accurate, but my family specifically lived in medellín, calí, and barranquilla. this is set in bogotá. apologies for any city-based in accuracies.

a/n: this is for you aettudae my #1 ❤️

1964, Cundinamarca, Colombia Local time: 1:00 A.M. Location: a small town in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia Objective: . . .

You were born on the outskirts of the city. Bogotá, the capital— the inside was rich, used to be filled with tourists, big buildings and fancy cars. The outside was él pueblo, where you’d wake up at three in the morning, walk to the nearest bus stop, which was probably a few kilometers away, take the buses that never ran on time with the rest of the exhausted men and women heading to work— work for rich people that ran the city till nightfall, get on another bus, and walk a few kilometers home, every day, constantly, while getting paid barely enough to support your family.

That was if you didn’t get robbed, or blown up in the middle of the city, of course— political unrest stemming from La Violencia had made FARC, and the cartel had begun to ramp up production and organization, planting car bombs under public buses and cars. The country was rife with bombings and gang violence till the late 90’s.

But right now, it was in the very early morning.

You would be born in 1964 to a poor family living in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia, right on the outskirts of Bogotá. Your mother would be killed in 1970. Your father would be killed en la cantina, at night, in 1972.

You had been working since 12, anyway. Being told of your pathetic father’s death by a police officer who clearly did not care was when it was decided— you would not die in this town. You would make a name for yourself.

You were right, of course. You did make a name for yourself— you took down one of the most prominent cartel leaders in the country.

Or, at least, that’s what the media thought.

LA VERDAD DE LO QUE PASÓ EN 1989. —————————————————————— THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED IN 1989.

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:00 P.M. Location: Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad | Administrative Department of Security (DAS) HQ Objective: Enter the meeting

You made it into DAS at 21.

Really, it was probably just because the high-rank workers felt bad for you. They understood— a girl from the outer part near Bogotá, no parents— you just wanted to make the country better for people like you.

You were given small jobs like paperwork and editing documents, until now. They were calling you in for your first meeting. Despite your usually serious nature, you couldn’t help a bubble of excitement. You’d finally be able to help like you’d always wanted.

which is why it was confusing why everyone was so somber when you walked in.

“Good morning,” you greeted, taking a seat.

“Good morning, y/n,” replied the woman who headed the ground-team. All your coworkers around her looked solemn, and you stared at them all puzzled.

“Your first assignment will be to infiltrate a specific branch of the Bogotá cartel— we fear they might be working with either FARC or plan to merge with another faction, and they’re already quite dangerous as it is— we don’t need more of them,”

the room was silent. You knew what this was— your first year on the job with barely any training. They were sending you to die, just to get some information.

You sat up straight, squaring your shoulders. You would get the information to help your people. You would live.

“I understand,” you replied, with a nod, standing to collect your file.

The woman handing it to you leaned in, a pained look in her eyes “Perdón,”

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 10:54 P.M. Location: Una cantina Objective: Scout an in to the “organization”

The woman in charge of the specific section of the widespread cartel that was causing so much destruction frequented a specific bar. You had been given her file— she was beautiful, with dark hair and pale skin, but she didn’t seem to be colombian. It didn’t really matter, to you— you weren’t here to ask her why she’d made these choices— you needed to infiltrate one of the largest cartels in Bogotá, on your first job.

you sighed, your head in your hands, the bartender giving you a cursory glance. The place was seedy, filled with alcoholics and sex-workers, as well as probable cartel members, which is why you were here.

You sat up, looking around. It was said Karina frequented this bar. You prayed she’d show up, making the sign of the cross.

God delivered— she walked in, with two other people you didn’t quite recognize— one had dark hair, as well, with big eyes, although her face was serious. The other was lithe, thin— her hair was shorter, and lighter in color, more similar to a brown.

You knew what you’d have to do to start getting information. It made you feel a little sick— a part of you, though, was grateful Karina was so beautiful. Her smile was cocky and smug, like that of someone who knew she was untouchable. She made conversation with her two accompanies, talking and laughing and drinking. You waited for an hour or so, so that she was now most definitely more than tipsy.

you walked over, wearing a short, tight black dress that let you fit the bill of another profession, looking at her through half lidded eyes.

another thing about the cartel. if they wanted a girl, they’d have her. The club was a dangerous place, the bar was a dangerous place— you’d seen a man get shot at a hamburger cart. The cartel was ruining the country.

you pushed down your sudden wave of resentment, focused on flirting with Karina. Her friend, the long haired girl, stared at you for a long time, scrutinizing. You wouldn’t know what that meant, for a while.

Karina grinned, tilting her head. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t see why not,” you smiled, voice practiced to be smooth and flirty. You didn’t drink, usually, but you needed the courage.

She handed you a shot of aguardiente. It was dry and burned your throat, but it was good. You made conversation. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You smiled, putting a hand on her arm. “Seems a bit.. dirty,”

Karina smiled, predatorily, teeth glinting in the low yellowed light. “Just trying to relax. You don’t seem like the type of girl to frequent this place. Why are you here?” She asked back.

“Oh, just.. trying to have a little fun,” you replied, lowly, voice ghosting over her ear. She seemed to like that answer.

“Yeah? Why don’t you come home with me, then?”

Your smile widened, although your eyes with still half lidded, touches fleeting. You still played your part.

“I will,”

you ended up going home with Karina. It took months to get her to trust you, but you had finally managed to get her to let you start working. All it took was a sob-story, a fake name, and she allowed you to work in her jurisdiction.

and so began the first objective: names. You needed names.

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 4:33 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

Karina had a home, of course, a large one— you had seen parts of the inside many a time. Of course, they also had some warehouses where they kept goods, where some of the members could crash for a night. You usually stayed with Karina, following her orders.

Some of the members used fake names. You had managed to catch onto one— Ning Yizhou, or NingNing. It was kind of stupid to put part of your real name in your fake name, but plenty of members didn’t use false names at all. You supposed it was just because they didn’t have much to hide.

The name was quietly recorded into your notebook— in code, of course, specifically pigpen-cipher, although you mixed it in with a few different things, referencing dice code as well to make it more confusing— the members of the organization sometimes forgot to call out their chosen names for each other, slipping up. You didn’t mind, though, it made your life easier.

The group had a whole network across Bogotá, planning to move into Medellín, which you felt was not a good idea, but had said nothing.

at one point, Karina brought you all out to eat at a very nice restaurant. You had become a favorite of sorts, for her. She didn’t suspect a thing, thank god.

They began to make small talk, conversations imbued with remarks about the ‘business’, people causing problems, supply and demand, and those annoying Americans.

the waiter came, and everyone quieted.

”Una cerveza, porfa,” Karina was first.

“Dame un refresco, por favor,” Giselle.

You felt something.. off. Obviously, Giselle wasn’t colombian. None of these four women were. But they all learned Spanish here. None of them really spoke Spanish beforehand. Giselle was speaking very.. correctly. Or, at-least, not using slang from colombia. Had she learned Spanish in Mexico? Castellano? Was she part of another gang?

you hadn’t noticed it was your turn to order with all the thoughts running through your mind. You looked at the waiter, glancing at Giselle.

“Si me haces el favor, una gaseosa,”

Giselle didn’t seem fazed by it. but something was off about her. Something was very, very off.

“Karina,” you called, walking into her office. She seemed to be writing something down. Most likely something about funds or money. She did have people in the banks to clean her money for her, but she didn’t like others running her finances. Too much of a chance for embezzlement. A part of you liked she was smart with her business.

“Winter told me you called for me?” You murmured, leaning against the side of her desk, tilting your head, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, yes,” she affirmed, turning in her chair to you. “I have a job I need you to complete. You’ll be going with Winter,” she informed. “It’s nothing that difficult. You’ll both be going on some runs. It’ll just be delivering a few.. products, to a contact. It’ll be a long drive, maybe a few hours. She’ll come get you at four in the morning, exactly,”

Your face stayed carefully blank, but you plastered a content smile onto it. “Of course, I’m glad to be of any help. Speaking of help, Karina, you seem a little stressed..” you smiled wider, voice imbued with a sultry tone.

Karina was honestly a bit foolish. Smart with money, bad with people. Perfect for you.

She still suspected nothing, you thought, as she kissed you, hungrily.

the night ended with her paperwork left unfinished, and you asleep in her bed.

Winter was probably not going to be happy.

Winter was waiting outside the room for you, arms crossed and leaning on the wall. You had dressed into something casual— just jeans and a shirt. You glanced over at her with a blank expression. “What do we need to deliver?”

She seemed to be thinking, before pushing off the wall, and beginning to walk. You followed.

“Guerrilla wants some weapons. We’re just there to deliver,” she muttered, cigarette hanging half out of her mouth, unlit. You made your way to the car, getting in the passenger, the supplies in the back. “It’ll be a long drive up the mountain. Let’s try not to get stopped, yeah?” She muttered, starting the ignition.

You drove in silence, for a bit. The humidity of the air was starting to get to you. You hated the heat.

Winter didn’t talk to you, much. You didn’t think she liked you. You were pretty sure it was because she believed you weren’t worthy to be in the gang— you were just Karina’s plaything.

you didn’t really care what she thought, though. You had a job to do.

after a few hours, you had made it sufficiently up the mountain to the trade-off point. You stepped out of the car.

It was still foggy, from the rain and the altitude. You almost felt a bit lightheaded— but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. The plants and mosquitos were certainly bothersome, but you said nothing. Helping Winter lug up all the weapons was definitely hard— you weren’t very strong. Winter stared at you in annoyance, mumbling curses, most likely about you, under her breath.

the trade off was successful, but then, yet again, you had to make your way down the mountain with duffel bags of money. It was heavy. Putting it away in the trunk was simple enough. You collapsed back into the passenger, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You felt gross.

“Why was that so heavy?” You muttered, under your breath. Winter closed the door of the driver’s side.

“It’s not that heavy, you’re just weak,” she spat, annoyed. “You made us take an extra half hour. You’re not efficient,” she continued.

“It’s hardly my fault, Winter! This was my first job, I don’t-”

“I don’t know why Karina thought it’d be a good idea to let you help, you’re absolutely shit at it,” she retorted, acidly. “The only thing you’re good at is being her whore,” she cursed, as a snide closing remark.

You turned to her as she drove. You may be making sacrifices to get information, but Winter had no idea what you were working towards. It was an insult to your pride. Yet, you couldn’t think of a retort.

“I’ll work harder,” you muttered. “I want to be useful,”

she scoffed, but at least you said you’d try. She still didn’t like you, though. “Face it, sweetheart,” she began. “You’re not cut out for this life,”

When you arrived back to the warehouse, Ningning spotted Winter before you. You were taking some of the bags out, but could still here from the inside.

“Kim Minjeong! What took you so long?” She chided.

Winter rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Quiet down, Ning. Karina’s toy isn’t supposed to know our names until she proves herself. And anyway, she’s nearly useless. She’s the reason I took longer,”

you obviously pretended not to hear as you hauled money bags inside.

Two names down. Two to go.

Giselle and Karina were two harder to find out then the other two. You were sure with enough time, Karina would tell you her real name. She seemed on the verge of it, anyway, with how much she wanted to hear it fall from your lips.

Giselle, though.. you had no contact with her. She was always off, managing distribution or making sure people stayed in line. You never saw her around much.

but slowly, you began to become part of the group. You mostly helped on small runs, with either Winter or Ning. Ning didn’t really care what name you called her, writing it off as semantics that didn’t matter. Winter, of course, took herself very seriously, so you continued to have to address her formally. She was such a pain, but honestly, you didn’t mind much.

what you had to focus on now, most of all, was getting Karina to trust you.

that came in the form of another run. Although this time, it went so, so wrong.

You were meant to drop off a shipment near Medellín. You didn’t think anything would happen, really— the mountains were a bit far out from Bogotá, and it was closer to the border anyway.

You had been given a gun. It was handed to you by Ning a few weeks prior, under the orders of Karina. You knew how to use one, and no one asked why.

the drive there was mostly silent. Winter still wasn’t very warm to you, yet, she didn’t hate you. You had begun to earn your place, and she respected the effort, if anything.

You drove, and the closer you got to the warehouse, the more dread washed into your bones. “Winter,” you called, under your breath. “I think we’re being watched,”

“We’ve been down this route a million times, y/n. We’re fine, no one would-”

a gunshot rang out through the silence.

It missed Winter by a centimeter, hitting the windshield. You cursed the fact these jeeps didn’t have roofs or side-door windows. Minjeong sped up, of course— if she braked they’d fire again. It was all a blur, from there. You got out of the car, your back against the corrugated metal of the drop off point’s doors. You stared around you, pointing at an old building. “There, Winter- it’s a-”

“Snipers,” she finished, eyes wide with panic. “Hijueputa! I fucking knew we should’ve stayed away from Medellín-”

“No fucking time for that, Winter, get down-”

bullets cut through the air. You dragged Winter behind the Jeep’s metal body, looking over it and shooting wherever the bullets rained from.

there was maybe three people, four, even. Winter focused on the right, you focused on the left. You only had a pistol on you, but luckily you had enough rounds. You aimed straight at one man’s head— it was a straight shot, and you saw the blood spew out from his forehead. It was a mess of blood and bits of brain as far as you could see, his body slumping over the sandbags where he was hiding. They turned red, quickly.

You peeked over the jeep, again, about to shoot the second man on the left when—

a sharp pain was felt in your right shoulder. The force of it sent you nearly falling back, but you caught yourself. You looked straight ahead.

the sniper.

You were panicking and filled with adrenaline— you set the gun on the other man, watching him rise slowly, and—

straight into the neck, blood rushed out of the wound, and you heard a disgusting gargling noise. Blood, in some areas, was highly pressurized— it would shoot out like a fountain.

Winter had managed to shoot the sniper, finally, which was a miracle considering the distance. Right now, you didn’t care about the logistics of how, all you knew was that this was a trap. More people were coming. “Winter, we have to go,” you demanded, looking over at her.

She was bleeding from her thigh and side. Fucking hell.

you shoved her into the passenger seat, ignoring the warmth you could feel trickling down your shoulder, the way it hurt to move your arm. You started the car, and drove straight out of there. You drove as fast as you could, making it back in just around two hours and a half. You had tied your jacket around Winter’s leg, and her own around her side, the other girl groaning in pain throughout the ride. “Ya, Winter, cállate!” You spat, stressed and frazzled. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be okay-” you continued, clenching your jaw to not scream from the burning in your shoulder.

When you made it back, you stumbled out of the car, glass shards all over the hood, opening the doors. “Ning,” you called, knowing she’d always be near, most likely cleaning some blood after an interrogation or packing some coke. “Ning, it was a trap- help, please, Winter got shot,” you continued, calling out desperately. Ning appeared a few seconds after, eyes wide, rushing to the car. She helped Winter inside, laying her on the couch. She had lost a bit of blood, but the bullet hadn’t hit a major artery. You knew the bullet shouldn’t have hit her heart, either. Ning looked at you, seriously. “Go get Karina. And Giselle,”

you did as told.

you rushed to Karina’s office, the older woman looking at you with a bored expression, gaze lingering on your shoulder.

She didn’t ask any questions, just raised an eyebrow. “It was a trap,” you replied, panting, ignoring your own bleeding shoulder. “Winter.. she needs- she needs a hospital,”

Karina looked unsurprised. “Oh, yes,” she replied, holding your gaze. “How unfortunate of an event,”

Her words were.. slow. Almost mocking or sarcastic— you didn’t have time to decipher what they meant. She brushed past you, making her way to Winter, calmly

“Ning, how bad is it?” She questioned, leaning over the other girl’s body. There was no hint of worry or concern on her face, just curiosity.

“Not fatal, but serious. It didn’t hit the femoral artery, but I suspect it either fracture or grazed her femur. For the side wound, I don’t think it hit anything major, maybe a rib, but no organs. Even so, she needs medical attention now, Karina— speaking of, where is Giselle?” She continued, exasperated and stressed.

“She should be on her way. She was coming back from a job, already. She should be here soon,” was Karina’s nonchalant reply.

you decided that she couldn’t really be waited on, and Karina was clearly unhelpful.

“Do you guys have an operating table? You know what— get me a table. Just get me a table,” you demanded, reaching for some surgical gloves.

They laid Winter on the table, turning on all the lights. You positioned a lamp right over her, and stared at the bullet wounds.

there were only 2. You could do this, you had been taught first aid. This couldn’t be that hard.

You began to clean the wounds with running alcohol and cotton balls, trying to wipe away the blood that wouldn’t stop, and clean the wounds. You had grabbed a pair of tweezers, planning on just yanking out the bullet yourself when Giselle slammed the doors open, staring at the scene in shock.

“What the fuck are you all doing?” She shrieked, rushing over and moving you away. “Do you have any surgical training at all? You could kill her!” She exclaimed.

“Well, you weren’t exactly coming very quickly,” you retorted, now insulted. “I’m sure it’s not that hard to remove a bullet, just take it out-”

“Are you an idiot?” She exclaimed, shocked. “Get out of the way, this is why I’m here. I’ll deal with this,”

she pushed you away, putting on her own pair of blue surgical gloves, and a mask. She moved the lamp to the wound on Winter’s chest, inspecting it. She took hold of the tweezers, cleaning the wound once again with an alcohol wipe— but there was no time for painkillers. She extracted the bullet carefully, holding Winter down so she wouldn’t squirm and hurt herself, followed by her stitching up the wound. It took around twenty minutes for the bullet hole to be stitched up.

she repeated the same process with the second, before cleaning the wounds, again, and beginning to wrap them with gauze. Winter looked pale, and in pain, but she tried to show no sign of it on her face. Once Giselle finished with her, she turned over to you.

“Sit,” she instructed, voice flat and providing no room for judgement.

Karina had shrugged, disappearing back to her office, while Ning had left to go help Winter, leaving you alone with Giselle. She removed your shirt, unclipping your bra with practiced ease, and inspecting the wound. It had started to really hurt, now, the adrenaline having worn off.

“Don’t you have painkillers?” You asked, petulantly.

“No,” she muttered back. “You can handle it. You’re part of a gang, now, there’s going to be pain,” she reminded, harshly.

She cleaned the wound with alcohol, a hiss leaving your mouth at the sting. Your breath hitched when the tweezers made their way into the wound on your shoulder, clenching your jaw in pain. Giselle looked at you, coldly. “Don’t scream,” were her final words before she removed the bullet, cleanly, in one piece.

you gasped in pain, breathing heavily as the wound began to bleed again. Giselle held your other shoulder, keeping you in place as she sewed it shut, cleaning it again, and wrapping it with gauze. “Fuck,” you hissed, wincing at the sting of alcohol.

“Stop squirming,” she growled, and it made you sit still, albeit breathing hard and cursing under your breath. She handed you two pills— painkillers— and a glass of water, after the fact.

“Don’t take baths, you’ll reopen the wound, make sure to shower. Someone will have to help you redress the wound and make sure it doesn’t get infected. Karina isn’t good with wounds, and Ning will handle Winter. I’ll keep an eye on you myself,” she muttered, and it felt more like a threat than anything.

you took the pills, drinking the water to wash them down.

you glanced over to her.

“What are you, a doctor?” You asked, curious albeit a bit sarcastic.

“Yes, technically, I am,” she responded back, flatly. “Worked in el campo for my residency, saw the Guerrilla, saw the way people were living— got into this business, just as it started. That’s all,” she finished, succinctly.

you felt like the story was too practiced. Too simple. You began to suspect that something was off with Giselle— something most definitely was. The way she was never with the rest of the group, her detachment, her strange accent— she was suspicious, and it occurred to you that if you could reveal whatever it was, you’d secure yourself a spot in the gang and officially cement your place, as well as weakening the structure and trust of the organization. It was perfect. This was a great chance, an amazing opportunity. You were sure to take it.

That is, of course, if everything went according to plan.

(It never did)

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Karina had something to do with this. She seemed so dismissive, so.. unimpressed. What was it? Why was she so cold?

You sat at the edge of Winter’s bed, the other girl listening to your ramblings and theories half-heartedly, dazed. Ning was leaning against the wall, the both of you speaking lowly, so as to not be heard.

“She was testing you,” Ningning informed, after mulling on it for a bit.

“What?” You blinked, the words like a shock to your system. “She sent one of her men— along with the newest recruit— into a trap, with only two pistols against a sniper and three other men, all to test.. no, why would she do that? She wouldn’t endanger her own members,” you dismissed, shaking your head.

“She would,” Ning informed, flatly. “Karina’s our boss, yes, we respect her. But she didn’t get to where she is by playing nice,” she reminded. “Karina will do whatever she has to do to ensure her business, first and foremost. That is what is the most important to her. Plus, the government has been far too close to us, lately,” Ning scoffed, shaking her head with her arms crossed. “She’s probably become more careful— which isn’t good if you’re new. You’re probably in for it,” The dark haired girl guessed, meeting your gaze. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we got dragged into it, too. We’re disposable. Just pawns in this game,” she continued, pushing off the wall and reaching the door, hand resting on the handle. “But I hope you make it out,” she added. “You’ve been helpful,” was her final compliment, before she exited.

You stared at your hands. You had thought— genuinely— that Karina was kind, maybe misunderstood. You really thought you were smarter than her.

you now realized that Karina was extremely intelligent. She didn’t care what sacrifices had to be made— she’d protect what was hers, what she’d built. Worst of all, she might even know you were an informant already, she might just be playing with you.

you had walked right into the lion’s den, without even knowing. All the while, you thought you were one step ahead, that you were in control.

your head fell to your hands, a choked sob leaving your body.

you were going to die here.

Every single one of you was going to die here.

1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 6:25 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

it had been a week since the incident. Winter had given you her real name— Kim Minjeong. Why? She said you had earned it, after saving her life.

Things had been tense, to say the least. Ning was considerably angry with Karina, which the older girl did not like. Giselle had been speaking to Karina more often, yet, she was also out the same amount of time.

Minjeong had told you that there had been talk of working more closely with the guerrilla, and that information worried you. The guerrilla was already enough trouble on its own— with the resources from the cartel, it’d be a horrible force for the government.

It was early November, already, and Giselle had seemed beyond tense, pacing whenever you caught a glimpse of her in her room, always thinking to herself, it seemed.

she was changing your bandages, now, a distant look on her face. The movements were practiced, almost like she was working on autopilot.

“Hey,” you called. “Giselle,”

“What?” She responded, flatly. “What is it?”

“Why do you seem so mad lately?” Was your question. She kept a blank, annoyed look on her face. She continued to clean your wound, but eventually responded. “Nothing. Just some negotiations that have been going in circles for days, now. Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed, stepping back once she had finished, moving to get some gauze.

“Really?” You hummed. “Anything to do with the guerrilla?”

Giselle stared, clenching her jaw. She began to bandage you, but spoke lowly. “Don’t talk about them. You have no idea what they’re like. You shouldn’t know any of this, anyway. I’m sure Karina wouldn’t like that,” she added, dangerously.

After the events that transpired on your last run, you had grown wary of Karina. You tried not to make it obvious, but everyone could tell, and the girl delighted in it. She loved the power and control, of course. Her smile was unsettling.

you quieted, after that comment. Giselle finished bandaging you, stepping away. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you,” she advised, but took a second to add something on. “Don’t worry too much. I don’t think she’ll kill you,” Giselle paused, a smile blooming on her face, “Yet,” she added, walking out.

Not very comforting in the slightest, but you should figure out what you could while you were here. You sighed, laying back on the bed.

Giselle was definitely lying about something— you just needed to find out what.

The guerrilla had led a siege on el Palacio de Justicia. It lasted two days, with many deaths. You saw the current news on it, even contacted your people in DAS about it— they had strictly warned you not to unless information was found, but those were your people. They could’ve died.

Giselle watched the news over your shoulder, or listened to it while she fixed your bandages. Minjeong had been getting better, too, her leg much better. Ning watched as well, her arms crossed.

Karina didn’t comment on it. Almost like she knew it would happen.

a suspicious amount of money was given to the guerilla by Karina a few weeks prior. You felt a shudder run through you, which Giselle responded to with a bark of “Stop squirming”.

later, Karina called you into her office.

“Y/n,” she smiled, tilting her head. “You seem.. on edge. May I ask why?” She was being overly formal, and it unsettled you.

“Ever since the attack, I keep feeling like it’ll happen again,” you began, rambling— it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The fear in your eyes and shakiness of your movement confirmed that, at least, it was partially true. “Im scared, that they’ll come here, and kill us. I don’t know what to do,”

Karina’s smile stayed in place, as she ushered you to sit down on the couch, there. “Don’t worry, corazón,” she assured, a hand running through your hair. You began to relax— maybe she wasn’t so scary, after all— It was understandable, maybe it wasn’t actually a test, maybe-

“As long as you’re loyal, nothing bad will happen to you,” she continued, hand tightening in your hair. “If you were to sell us out, then, you understand. I couldn’t promise your protection,” her hand strengthening its grip on your hair, speaking into your ear.

“Now, why don’t we get your mind off it?” She offered, looking into your eyes with a faux-sweet expression.

you complied, obviously. Despite the fear, there was a part of you that was drawn to her. She was threatening to kill you if you betrayed her, yet, you still kissed her, desperately.

she kissed back, of course, hungrily and heatedly.

That’s how most of the both of your talks ended, anyway.

1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 12:01 AM Location: una discoteca Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

It was 1986, now— had just turned into the new year. You were at a club, celebrating another year alive.

You had no idea where the other three girls went, thoroughly tipsy and entranced with Karina.

Karina was a bad person, you knew this. She was ruthless, and you should be scared of her.

but right now, with her hands on your hips, in the flashing lights of the club, you couldn’t quite remember that.

The two of you stumbled into the quieter, back parts of the club where there were rooms. Karina knew this place better than you, anyway.

it was still loud, and you could barely hear anything. She pressed you against the wall, tugging your hair, beginning to suck and bite at your neck.

she was most definitely drunk, you could tell by the flush to her face and how her words were looser than normal.

You knew you should’ve taken advantage of this, but you couldn’t. Your body felt hot, and instead of finding information, like you should have, you fell right back into Karina like a rat to a glue-trap.

you were pathetic.

and you knew it.

1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:23 AM Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

Karina had called you into her office, except this time, Giselle was there.

You were beyond exhausted, but did not complain.

They were both intimidating. Giselle was staring at you, coldly, arms crossed, while Karina had an amused expression on her face, grinning, head tilted into her hand.

“Y/n, I have a job for you,” she called, in a cheery voice.

“It shouldn’t be too hard, but you’ll be working with Giselle from now on. It’ll be good for you,” she continued, standing up and walking towards you. “She’ll keep you safe— won’t you, Gigi?” She asked, almost mockingly, a saccharine expression in her face.

“You’ll have a body by the end of the day. That’s all you want her for, anyway,” Giselle retorted, irritated.

“How great! Come now, y/n, Giselle will explain,” Karina beckoned, quite happy today. Some expansion into the U.S. had gone well, you knew that much, but there was no reason she should be so.. animated.

Karina handed you a semiautomatic pistol, which you stared down at. She then smiled, handing you a small box of bullets. She still kept a smile on her face, remarking, “You know, these are special. They’re hollow point bullets— Ningning made them,”

“What? She made them?” You knew of hollow-point bullets, they weren’t a secret, just uncommon.

“Drill a hole into them, cut an X to make some petals, and there you have it— well, I’d ask Ningning, of course, I’m not a weapons specialist. It’s quite easy,”

“But why? They don’t-”

“Effectiveness. They leave a bigger exit wound, and leave shrapnel inside the body at times,” Giselle interrupted. “In other words, pain. They’re used to inflict pain,”

Karina smiled, sadistic as ever, as she watched Giselle load some rifles.

“Today, we have a few hits to get done,” Giselle informed. “You’ll be coming with me. You know how to shoot a rifle?” She asked, glancing over at your horrified expression.

“No, I-”

“What about a pistol?”

You nodded.

“Perfect!” Karina exclaimed. “You can help with the interrogation, then. Giselle, I’ll meet you at the location. Try not to dirty her too much, hm?” Karina advised, slinking away.

“That’s why she’s so happy?” You asked, in shock. “Because-”

“Because she gets to kill someone? Yeah, that’s why. She’s sick in the head. You knew what you were getting into,”

you stared at Giselle in silence. The other girl was grabbing some sniper-rifle that you had never seen before, and several rounds of ammunition.

she loaded it into the car, and you two began the drive.

you held the pistol in your hands shakily, silent for most of the ride.

once you got to the location, you watched Giselle pray. You had heard of hitmen praying before their job, and you still couldn’t understand. They prayed to God to protect them, yet, they were about to take a life.

“Why are you praying?” You asked, suddenly, acidly. “We’re about to kill people, God wouldn’t-”

“It’s my job,” she interrupted, which was a common occurrence with Giselle. “It’s my job, and I’m just asking Him to keep me alive until it’s over,” she spat, coolly. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do. But you will, soon. So just shut up, will you?” She got out of the car, slamming the door shut. You scrambled after her, and the both of you hauled the equipment up the boarded-up, run-down building, up several flights of stairs, finally beginning to set it up after a few stories, looking down at a busy road.

“Why are we killing him?” You murmured your question, watching as Giselle began to adjust the rifle.

“He owes Karina money, and he won’t pay it. He also stole some of our goods and has been cutting pure cocaine with some other shit, I didn’t really care enough to figure out what. His other friend is the one we’ll be interrogating. He’ll die no matter what he says,” Giselle shrugged, watching the empty street, the morning finally coming through the sky, although the dark, clouded sky blocked the bright sun.

“How long will we be here?”

“However long it takes,”

It turns out that “however long it takes” meant almost eight hours. You were bored to death, yet still terrified. You were about to kill someone. And you had been here, waiting on edge for it to happen, for almost eight hours. You felt like you were going to burst into tears.

“Giselle, how much longer is this gonna take?” You complained, although a bit shaky.

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here either,” she drawled. “But he should be here, soon. He works near here,”

It took maybe another half hour before he appeared. Giselle saw him before you did, obviously— you didn’t even know what he looked like— but she didn’t immediately shoot. Her eyes stared down at him through the scope, her fingers brushing against the trigger. He was wide open, walking slowly without a car in the world. He stopped for a second, someone crossing in front of him—

click.

you heard the gun go off before you looked down.

Giselle had shot him perfectly in the side of the head. You couldn’t see a lot, obviously, you were pretty high up, but you saw enough.

his body crumpled to the ground, immediately, blood pooling around him. People screamed, cars stopped, and they all were looking around frantically trying to find the shooter. Giselle moved the gun and herself away from the window, to the side where they weren’t visible.

“Come on, hurry up— we gotta go,” she urged.

“Hold on, won’t they see us step out of the building? Isn’t this a bad idea?”

“They won’t catch us, there’s too much chaos going down there. Now come on, let’s go,”

The drive to the warehouse was relatively silent.

Giselle was tense, but that wasn’t new. She always was. But she seemed almost.. solemn. Quiet.

you both arrived, stepping out of the car, into the meeting point. Giselle had her own pistol, you also kept yours on hand.

when you entered, there was a man tied there. Giselle tensed when she saw him, but said nothing. You figured it was because of Karina, standing behind him with the same placid, content smile. It was eerie.

“Giselle, Y/n! You’ve made it,” she smiled. “I take it the job went well?”

“It was all fine,” Giselle replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened,”

“That’s great, really, it’s good! I’m quite happy today, Y/n, because we have a special guest. I know I said he owed me money— in a way he does— but this is something far more important. He works with the Americans! Isn’t that just amazing?” She continued, happily, waving her gun around in the air as she spoke. “I’m sure we’ll get some good information out of him,”

“So, the both of you, come! Let’s begin,” Karina gestured to the man, in the dim lights.

you figured, well— the show must go on.

The man was tied to a chair, that much was obvious. The floor was concrete, and there were boarded up windows and maybe one or two hanging lightbulbs. It was a bit dark.

the walls were steel, corrugated iron, and it gave a prison-like feel. the man was looking around, wildly, straining against his restraints.

“Hey,” Karina called, walking closer to him.

“You’re going to tell me everything there is to know about those Americans, okay? And then I’ll let you go. As long as you don’t lie,” she assured, pausing. “Now talk,” she demanded.

“They’ve noticed the supply into their country. They’re working on stopping it. They’ve already sent a few agents to infiltrate a few different parts of the cartel—”

“Which ones?” Was her sharp, quick reply.

“Medellín, primarily, but they’ve been looking to Bogotá. I don’t know much more than that, I don’t even know who the agents are, I-”

“Ning!” Karina barked, the dark haired girl appearing out of the dark. She held a pistol in her hand, jaw clenched, staring up at Karina.. defiantly, almost. “Won’t you be a dear and deal with him, for me?”

Ning glanced to the man. His eyes widened, and he began to thrash. “No! I don’t know anything, I swear, I don’t know any agents! I don’t know anything!” He pleaded, desperately. Ning looked away, aiming the gun.

You heard a whispered ‘I’m sorry’, and she made the shot.

Through the head, perfectly center. Ning placed a hand over her mouth, the smell of blood biting and metallic, letting out a choked sob.

Karina looked over at Ning. “Now, Ning-ie, there’s a bus waiting for you outside. You’ll take that back to our meeting point, won’t you? So you won’t get caught?”

Ning nodded, wiping her eyes of tears. She went over to Giselle, they exchanged some words, hugged— she came over to you.

“Y/n.. I’m sorry. There’s no way to get you out, now. Be careful, don’t.. don’t trust anyone, don’t- just.. be careful, okay?” she advised, lowly, hugging you, still crying faintly.

“Ning, what- I don’t understand, why’re you acting like this?”

“You’ll tell Minjeong I’ll miss her, right? I wanted to say goodbye, properly, but.. I didn’t have time. I left a note,” she added, slipping it into your pocket inconspicuously, pulling away from the hug. “Give it to her, for me. You were fun to be around, I’ll miss you too. Don’t lose yourself, stay focused. It was nice to know you, y/n,”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her- I’ll give it to her- Ning, why are you acting like this? What’s going on?”

Ning smiled, laughing wetly, still crying. “You’ll find out, later. You’ll find out..”

Karina walked Ning out of the warehouse. You and Giselle trailed behind, still a few paces away. The bus was parked right outside, filled with people.

Karina hugged Ning, whispered something to her which made Ning clench her fists and cry harder— you don’t know from what.

Ning got on the bus with a smile, crying— though you still didn’t know why— and waved goodbye.

You looked to Giselle, confused, watching the bus continue on, further down the street, already maybe a mile or two away from you. “What was that abou-”

your ears rang. You heard it before it registered.

the bus had exploded.

there was carnage, everywhere. Parts of it had been thrown into different buildings. There were body parts strewn across the street, a crater in the asphalt, fire, along the metal— cars had been crushed, it was now chaos in the streets. You had almost been pushed back from the force, nicking yourself with the small, sharp pieces of metal. Karina was still standing, her suit dusty and filled with ash.

“Karina, what- what did you do?” you cried, confused and distraught yet again, feeling the tears build in your eyes.

Karina cooed, crouching down over you, thumbing the skin under your eye. “Oh, mi amor, don’t cry,” she reassured. “Ning was working with the Americans. The man in the warehouse knew, and was helping her sneak information along our supply chain! Don’t worry, the traitor is gone,” she ran a hand through your now dirty hair, cleaning a cut on your face with her finger. She smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, speaking lowly into your ear.

“I’m tired of these Americans trying to ruin my business. They keep putting themselves where they don’t belong. Don’t worry, mi cielo, you’ll be safe as long as you’re loyal to me, and as long as you listen. I know you will. Because you’re trustworthy, aren’t you?” She smiled, looking down at you.

you nodded, dazed. Karina had just killed Ning. Ning was dead. You had to get out of here. You figured hundreds were injured. You had to leave.

Giselle was even farther back, looking at Karina with contempt.

you didn’t notice, though. You were too busy watching the flames dance in the street.

1987, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 9:46 P.M Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel

it had been almost a year since the incident.

ever since Ning died, things had been different. Minjeong had been quieter, and angrier. Everything set her off, she came back covered in blood most of the time. You didn’t want to ask where she’d been— you’d just sit with her, quietly. Sometimes you heard her cry at night.

Giselle had been even more cagey, always out, defensive, on high-alert constantly.

and Karina.. well, you’d been spending a lot of time with Karina. You knew she was bad, you did, but there was something about her. It was just something about her, something that drew you in, and you hated yourself for it.

like right now. You were in her office, again, as she kissed you hungrily, hands gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.

your mind drifted. You reported back to DAS every so often, but you did inform them that you had to be very careful, that your reports would be sporadic. Truthfully, they didn’t event think you’d make it this far, do they were okay with waiting. They seemed to have several informants, anyway.

”y/n,” Karina growled, lowly, sucking and biting harshly at your neck. “You seem distracted. Focus on me, no? You promised you’d help me..” she murmured, almost a pleading sound to her voice. You weren’t stupid, though. Karina didn’t beg, she didn’t plead. This was mocking. You sucked it up, though.

you tried to focus on her, you did, but everything was beginning to get to you. DAS weighed heavily on your mind, and Minjeong’s grief did, too, and Giselle’s odd behavior, her accent, even the way she dressed— she didn’t seem like she was from here. She didn’t seem like she’d been her a long while.

“Y/n,” Karina snapped, annoyed. “Focus, will you? Or maybe you’ll end up like that bastard traitor,” she remarked, acidly, far too much emotion for the situation. Karina had been angrier lately, too. It must be the stress of the betrayal. Surely that’s why— it shook her to her core that there was a rat in her ranks. She had gotten paranoid.

the mention of Ning made you emotional, though. You felt tears prick at your eyes.

she looked down, and let out a laugh. “Oh, I love when you cry, baby,” she grinned, voice rough. “It makes you look so good. But not right now.. maybe in a bit. Stop being such a pussy,” she instructed, to which you nodded shakily.

and like that is how your work went, for a bit.

it wasn’t until late 1988 everything began to change.

Karina had been busy, lately. A lot of men came to her office, ones you didn't recognize and some you did, vaguely, from other meetings.

Karina had been overtly paranoid about informants— It was a miracle she hadn't discovered you, yet— or maybe she had. Maybe she was just waiting for the right time, playing with you, maybe-

"Y/n!" She called, in a sing-song tone.

You entered her office, quietly.

"I need your help for another job. A big one. If you do this, then it'll officially make you a part of us! Isn't that fantastic, baby?"

Karina had her hands on your hips, the same practiced smile she always wore on her face.

"Yes.. fantastic, it really is," you replied, in a murmur. "But what will I be doing?"

"You know the DAS building, here, in Bogotá? Well, amor, we'll be getting rid of it,"

"rid of it?" You tried to school your expression, but the shock and horror was plainly visible on your face. You felt sick.

"Rid of it. As in, you know— the building. I have a few ways to make sure it stays gone for quite a while. It’ll take nearly a year, I predict, but it’ll get done. You’ll be going to a few meetings with Giselle and me to make sure you can help. Is that okay, y/n?” She asked, in a faux-concerned tone. You both knew she wasn’t asking whether or not you’d do it, you had to. It was a rhetorical question. You would say yes, either way.

“Yes. It’s.. it’s fine,” you murmured.

“Good. Now, you can go. I’m sure there’s something for you to do to make yourself useful around here,”

MEETING ONE 1988, Medellín, Colombia Local time: 4:52 P.M. Location: a small town up in the mountains; el campo Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

Driving with Giselle was really not a good time. The songs on the radio were good, though.

the other girl was so frustrated, for some reason.

“Giselle,” you chanced. “I don’t mean to pry, but seriously— why are you so.. stressed?”

“We’re about to blow up Colombia’s national security headquarters, I think anyone would be stressed,”

You eyed her, not quite convinced.

“You know, anytime we carry out a job you’re so on edge,” you commented. she whipped her head around, knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel.

“Are you accusing me of something, y/l/n?”

“No,” you replied, slowly. “Not at all,”

the meeting took place up in the mountains.

the negotiations were mostly handled by Giselle, but she looked nearly ready to scream.

“We’re paying you what you’ve asked, just give us the supply,” she repeated, voice low.

“I think it’s fair to ask for a little more, linda,”

Giselle was seething. Honestly, these men had rifles, machine guns— you weren’t about to fight them. you took out your pistol.

you pointed it right at the 500kg of dynamite.

“Take the money,” you instructed, eyes wide. You looked crazed, most likely.

they stared at you.

“I said take the FUCKING MONEY! You think I won’t do it? We can add on 130,000 more pesos, but that’s it.”

They agreed.

Giselle was silent, in the car drive. You stared at your hands.

“You would’ve done it,” she murmured.

“I would have,” you agreed, and it came with a sick sense of realization. You would have killed everyone in there, including yourself. You would have done it. Who were you? What had you become?

Giselle laughed, one of the only times you had ever seen her show a positive emotion.

“Oh, God,” she snickered. “You really didn’t think when you signed up for this, huh?” She commented. Your eyes widened, but you schooled them back into place.

no, she couldn’t mean what you thought. She couldn’t.

“Careful, baby,” she hummed. “You don’t wanna become something you can’t come back from,”

well, that’s fucking ominous.

Your next meeting was scheduled in the following weeks. You felt like Giselle was.. watching you. Her gaze never left you, but whenever you looked back, she was always just staring out a window, or at something on the wall. It was unnerving.

The second meeting went smoothly, but ended late. Giselle was driving once again, smoking.

“Do you have another?” You asked, suddenly, glancing at her against the dark backdrop of the night.

“Another what?” She questioned, looking over at you for only a moment, before focusing on the old, pot-hole filled road again.

“A cigarette. And a light,” you clarified, holding out a hand.

“I have a cigarette,” she confirmed, handing you one. “But no light. Sorry,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

“Oh, fuck off Giselle. Just light it with yours,”

She rolled her eyes. “Why should I? Don’t you have a lighter?”

“I didn’t bring my lighter, I didn’t think I needed it,” you shot back.

She sighed, annoyed, but complying. She kept one hand on the wheel, barely glancing at the road, lit cigarette half in her mouth, being held in place by her hand. You kept your own firmly between your lips, not wanting it to fall.

she pressed the lit end to your own, eyes dark, and you couldn’t help but stare into them.

the end finally caught a spark, lighting up, and you both stared for a second more before breaking away.

You took a long drag, averting your eyes from her gaze, glad the dark of the night would hide your blush.

“Thanks,” you muttered, gazing out into the fields.

“Don’t mention it,”

MEETING THREE 1988, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:31 A.M. Location: Karina’s office Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

It happened so very late, and you struggled to stay awake. You felt your eyes closing, but Giselle would push you, and you’d spring back up.

Karina was arguing with a man about the price of the job. She was aggravated, he wasn’t taking the accepted offer.

The meeting had started off very casual— she even offered him some of their supply. You didn’t take any, neither did Giselle, but Karina and the man each did a line, snorting it off the table.

You watched the cross that hung from her neck dangle along the table, occasionally tapping the wood. The other man wore one as well, as did Giselle, as did you— you felt just a bit guilty about it. Hopefully, He’d forgive you for your wrongdoings. Hitmen prayed to God and so did drug lords— as did nuns, priests, politicians— all prayed, all believed. At least, most did. They claimed so.

You were shaken from your thoughts by a loud crash. Karina had pushed the man against the wall, yelling, now— “¡Me estás sacando la piedra!”

Giselle never said anything like that. Come to think of it, she cursed under her breath, you weren’t even sure what language it was. you shouldn’t be thinking of Giselle, though, not when this man seemed like he would die. That shook you out of your stationary position.

you jumped up, rushing towards her. “Karina! Karina, let him go!” You demanded, trying to pull her off. Giselle followed suit, prying her off him. Karina was panting, she looked crazed. Blood trickled out of her nose, and you wondered how much of her supply she was doing.

“You don’t understand,” she growled, clutching her desk. “Just take the money,” she began, again, and the man finally nodded. She practically threw the money at him, watching as he scrambled out. She let out a frustrated sound, slamming her hands on the desk.

“Giselle, get out. Y/n. Stay,” she demanded, not turning around.

Giselle hesitated, for a moment, it was barely noticeable.

but she left.

Karina turned to you, and like so many times before— you were truly, deeply scared. And yet..

you fell right back into her, letting her kiss you, use you, until she was fine again.

1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 3:13 A.M. Location: An old, unused road in the mountainside Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

The meetings happened in quick succession. They took place all throughout the rest of 1988, and into early 1989. It wasn’t until September that things really began to change.

Minjeong was always out. She avoided Karina, and only spoke with Giselle sparsely.

You and Giselle were in the car, currently. The final meeting had just occurred, and the both of you had gotten tired of driving.

you were both just sitting there, with the car off. Giselle spoke, suddenly.

“How do you do it?” She questioned. “How do you put up with her?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Karina. I just.. sometimes, she’s too much. Especially lately. She’s paranoid,”

“I don’t know, I just-” you couldn’t say it was because it was your job. You couldn’t say it was because a part of you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to even reply to that. “I just do,”

Giselle seemed like she wanted to say something, but she closed her mouth. It was silent till she spoke again. “I don’t understand you. I mean, you’re like me, but.. you’re just so.. different— naive,”

“I am not naive!” You protested, even though you knew very well you were.

“Yes you are! I know you’re- I-” she wasn’t being very coherent, aggravated, fingers flexing like she was antsy.

“I’m what? What am I? Just spit it out, Giselle! I’m tired of-”

She cut you off, kissing you. You were surprised, for a moment, but quickly reciprocated. Her fingers curled in your hair, pulling you closer. You braced yourself on the dash, trying not to touch the wheel or anything else that could move the car.

“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Giselle muttered, pulling you into the backseat with her. “You just have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

You panted, now slightly confused. “What?”

“Nevermind,” she groaned, pulling you closer once again.

She pulled you onto her lap, and you snaked your hands into her hair, tugging at it, blunt nails scratching at her scalp.

You didn’t really feel bad about it, is what you’d realize later, when you were driving back in silence.

You kind of wanted her to do it again.

You and Giselle didn’t talk about anything that had happened. Partly because you didn’t want to, and partly because you feared what Karina would do if she found out. The weeks leading up to what you found to be a tragedy were tense. Minjeong was out more often than not, as was Giselle. You couldn’t warn anyone, because Karina had such a close eye on you, lately. She just wouldn’t leave you alone.

December came quicker than you would wish.

It was night when you heard Minjeong speaking to Karina.

“Jimin, you can’t do this,” she murmured, lowly, voice laced with an unseen anger.

“Why are you so tense, Minjeong? I thought you always agreed with me..” she sighed, and you could hear her walking through the thin walls.

“I can’t let you kill so many people, it’s just- it’s insane! You’re being irrational— you’ve snorted half of your own fucking supply!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Karina— Jimin, you’ve learned— spat, and the unmistakable sound of a slap resounded through the warehouse, Karina breathing hard. You heard a struggle, and panting. “I’ll kill you, Minjeong, don’t think I won’t. I’ve kept you around out of pity— and of course, you’ve always been so obedient. Why are you so hellbent on rebelling now?” She whined, in a mocking manner.

“You killed Ningning— how am I supposed to be loyal to someone who kills her own men?” Minjeong replied, voice breathy, as if she couldn’t breathe.

There was silence.

“You’ll learn. Now, leave here. If you argue against me again, I’ll feed you to the wolves,” Jimin growled, and the sound of Minjeong hitting the floor was heard all throughout the warehouse. “Get out of my sight,”

1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.

Karina was, and always will be, a mystery.

you had found out now that Karina’s name was Yu Jimin. You had asked Minjeong, shortly after what happened. You went to sleep, and awoke to the sound of the radio, blaring.

“El edificio del Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad ha sido bombardeado.”

you woke up with a start. You knew it’d happen. But there was a sense of true hatred, in that moment.

you walked out of your room.

you walked into Karina’s office.

“Yu Jimin,”

she whipped around, smile morphing into a frown in seconds.

“How do you know that name?”

“Minjeong,”

She saw the gun in your hand.

“Oh, won’t you put that down?”

You stared at her.

She smiled, then.

“You know, I knew you worked for them,” she began, nonchalantly.

“What?”

all that work, all that secrecy— it meant nothing, in the end? She knew, she always knew?

“I saw you searching for our names. You were just so.. you seemed like you’d work for the government. And then I found that little phone you had! It’s been disconnected for years. They haven’t received a single message,”

You stared, still, dumbfounded. Suddenly, this made it all the worse. She did this, forced you to help— knowing? You raised the pistol.

“Giselle,” Karina called, and the other girl appeared a few seconds later. She stared at the scene in front of her, looking between the two of you.

“Get rid of her for me, will you?” Karina dismissed, shrugging off the threat.

Giselle slowly took out her own gun. She pointed it at you, and yet—

“Yu Jimin, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, terrorism, murder, smuggling, and-”

“What? What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened, as she shot up to her feet, gripping at her desk.

“My name is Aeri Uchinaga. I work for the FBI-”

“It was you!” She shrieked, nearly mad. “You were the mole? But you- you’ve killed in my name! Won’t you be implicit?”

“I’ll be pardoned by the state, most likely,” she informed.

it all made sense now. The strange accent, the tray she was so tense, constantly— you were a bit proud of yourself for noticing all the off things about her, but now was not the time.

you stared at Karina. You wanted to shoot her.

“She could leave,” you pointed out.

Giselle glanced over at you. “She could,”

you aimed at her leg. Just a bit off from the major artery in the thigh.

a click.

The aftermath was severe. The building was destroyed, most of your department had dissolved. Minjeong was working with the police, you had found out— although you hadn’t heard from her since the arresting.

you weren’t sure what to do, anymore. You had dedicated so much to this— and it was all for nothing. Essentially, you had failed.

You were currently living with Aeri, actually. You were a valuable witness— you had seen and done things that would hopefully be able to incriminate Karina, more than all the other records there was of her actions.

Aeri wasn’t as mean as she had been. She was actually quite quiet— but not mean. You two spoke about it. A lot had happened, and you both lived through it. You could relate to each other.

it would take time, though.

1993, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: Washington, D.C. Objective: . . .

It had been 4 years since Yu Jimin had been arrested. She was facing many, many charges— although you tried not to keep up with the news. There was to much going on.

currently, you were with Aeri. You and Aeri had gotten much closer in the following years— how could you not? You spent almost every waking moment together.

Aeri had some work to do, so you were waiting. It was quite simple, really.

You had been offered a position, here— in D.C. You’d work on other jobs, similar to this, but far more investigative. It sounded.. good. You’d like to help people, thats alway’s something you’ve wanted.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by Aeri.

“Hey,” she called, to get your attention. “Let’s go, they’ve got some questions to ask you before you can get hired. You know how government jobs are,” she shrugged, leading you down a winding hallway.

“Yeah,” you replied, your hand in hers. “They kind of suck,”

“They do,” she agreed, with a sigh. “They kind of do,”

A/N: I HATE HOW THIS CAME OUT 😭😭 it took me so long but it’s done. I kind of just wanted to get it over with. I don’t have much to say, honestly I might delete this. I had a good idea for it but just couldn’t find the words to execute it. sorry </3 expect a better work soon. I’m hoping to finish up some less heavy ideas before returning to my cold war AU. In any case, asks are appreciated, and I’m open to requests! thank you for reading this mess </3 also aeri being endgame is payback for you (aettudae) making her married to a man in honeycomb. that should be ME.

EXTRA: when you read ‘mi amor’ keep in mind I’m imagining to pronounced like one word, so more like ‘mia-mor’. ‘mia’ kind of sounds like ‘mya’. this will make sense to spanish speakers.

[i-may-be-an-emu]

TELL ME ABOUT THE MEN!!!!!!

HELLO!!!

GLADLY :DD

THE MEN. :)

They’re called shoot from the hip (sfth) and are @shootimpro on youtube, tiktok, instagram, facebook, x/twitter, Bluesky, as well as on linktree, patreon and ko-fi.

(Hi just a note that I’ve updated this post a bit :))

They’re London based but have done shows outside london like in Scotland (Edinburgh Fringe) and even to Spain. They want to hopefully go to other countries in the future too!!

From left to right they’re Sam, Tom, AJ and Luke :)))

Ok, so. They do improvised comedy and their shows have two halves (generally with a break in the middle) they play lots of short drama games in the first half and then improvise 20-30 minute (on average) plays in the second half, sometimes with another game at the end.

The plays are so much fun (they’ve got 43 of them up on youtube so far!! (< updated January 2025)) and they’ve also released three full specials (full shows) which you can find on their channel :)

For a few of the older ones (apart from the first one) they were filming on an iphone and just projecting their voices, so the the audio and image quality can be hard to deal with (but all their videos are subtitled by the AMAZING volunteer subtitlers!!!) the older videos are well worth watching, though!!!

They have SO MUCH CONTENT because during covid they did zoom-style improv shows with eachother and you can watch those as a patreon. (To find out what else you get with patreon go to my pinned post :))

They also have SO MANY VIDEOS that are just the regular public ones!!!! They upload short ones of the games and some 5-10min ones of the games too, as well as the long forms (plays)

Now some info about the guys :D

Samuel Thomas Russell-Holmes:

Birthday 21st July 1989 (35)

Married this year and expecting a baby!!! :)

wears a red flannel a LOT (less recently, but still a LOT, it’s his Thing)

he says some very risky things sometimes but also has the audacity to look shocked when the others do it lol

Fav colour is green

he’s 5”10

brown eyes

currently producing a radio show for the bbc called wing it (available in December!)

if he were a Disney Princess he said he’d be Rapunzel

VERY GOOD AT ANIMAL (specifically goat/sheep) NOISES

initiates kisses with the others a lot (all of them do but I’ve counted and he kisses Luke the most and initiates kisses with all of them the most overall) (in the videos they’ve posted at least))

great at talking in Spanish gibberish, often paired with opening his shirt buttons

loves fantasy things

interested in Greco Roman mythology

wrote an audiobook called “Evergreen”

his mother and grandfather are/were successful actors

Has a drama degree

Low spice tolerance

has eaten raw egg live on camera

likes to cook

Thomas Mayo-Woodman/Hodgson-Mayo:

HES SO TALL (this man is almost 2m tall- he’s 6”5.5 :0)

brown eyes

his birthday is 10th July 1989 (35)

Married to a drag king (@pipdream on insta, tiktok, youtube, ect.) whose pronouns are they/them (they’re an icon and we love them)

Wrote a graphic novel (it’s called Future it’s about space lesbians)

literally one of the sweetest and kindest souls on this planet I’ve never met him but every time he says anything it’s like WOW OK YOURE SO NICE AND KIND AND WONDERFUL (everything I’ve heard from people who’ve met him is SO NICE)

SO GOOD AT IMPROVISING (specifically Shakespearian-style) MONOLOGUES

his favourite colour is red

has two english degrees (very good with grammar and words)

has adhd

makes a garbled choking noise very well (you have to hear it to get what I mean I guess lol)

has eaten a teabag live on camera

He’s referred to as the “dad” of the group a bit

Very hard to make him laugh on stage (but he’s been laughing more, recently!!) and each one is treasured

He’s so kind did I mention he is so kind

lovingly called a squid or squidboi by the fandom because of one time (a few times actually) he like stuck his hands in his sleeves and was like “I’m a squid”

does a lot of admin work for sfth and handles the finances (at least he did, they might have someone for that now I’m not sure) and takes care of the patreon

Makes a lot of spreadsheets

DID I MENTION HOW NICE AND KIND HE IS

Alexander Thomas Jeremy (AJ):

Birthday on 4th November 1991 (32)

CONFUSION KING /aff (he gets confused easily but we love him for it)

He’s bald and gets made fun of for it RELENTLESSLY (again, lovingly)

Absolutely ANGELIC singing voice

Blue eyes

born in Manchester(UK) but grew up in France (fluent in French)

makes movies/short films on youtube!! He’s working on a new one now and you can find them @lofi_film25 on youtube (that’s also his film insta)

does a lot of the editing for sfth and has a lot of input into which longforms to upload apparently

he’s such a himbo (/aff)

fav colour is blue

He’s 6 foot tall

On their covid livestreams would always forget to get costuming ready “I don’t do costumes” (king <3)

his rapping is BEAUTIFUL (words that barely rhyme at all and make NO sense 😌)

He delivers GREAT one liners

so good at playing children it’s crazy

can do magnificent cartwheels and loves to jump on the others with no warning

lots of muscles but lost an arm wrestle against Tom

Thinks he can’t do an Irish accent but I think it’s pretty good

also has a drama degree

He creates such amazing characters in the longforms

this is more just my opinion but I love his laugh

VOLDEMORT IMPRESSION IS SPOT ON

Luke Christopher Manning

Birthday is the 23rd October 1989 (currently 34 about to be 35)

Hazel eyes

hes not short but he’s the short-EST, 5”7.5

gets made fun of for his height a LOT (lovingly!!)

SO good at accents

so good at playing women

also so good at playing children

such a good actor overall (the only one of them currently perusing acting I believe)

says THE MOST UNHINGED THINGS

people think he’s innocent (somehow) but he’s SO unhinged

took his pants off live on stage (wearing underwear but still lol 😭 he’s a menace)

lives in Spain with his long term girlfriend (fluent in Spanish)

so much attitude in such a small guy (/aff)

sometimes compared to Macaulay Caulkin looks-wise

plays bass guitar in a band

Teaches acting (to kids??) in Spain

also has adhd

also has a drama degree

His favourite film is back to the future I’m pretty sure?

So confident in himself I aspire to be like that

people say he “doesn’t age” and looks really young but I personally think he does look his age

sometimes called “Luke Womanning” as a play on his last name because of how amazing all his female characters are

They’re all really close friends and met at uni and started doing improv around 13 years ago together! Started gaining popularity in 2022 on tiktok and are gaining more and more fans every day!

Um. Whoops I wrote a lot lol. (It totally hasn’t been an hour of me just writing this hahahaha)

anyway I love them so much :)))) (as you can probably tell)

anyway!

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON THIS ASK MEANS SO MUCH TO ME :DDDDD

[avelera]

A few random thoughts about the comic issue of "Men of Good Fortune" in The Sandman and how they pertain to Dreamling as a ship based on the show.

I get the sense when reading MoGF that it's a... shall we say, "young" story? It's the sort of story that has its seeds in your high school creative writing class. You're learning about English history and you're also writing short stories and you think, "Wouldn't it be cool if two guys met every 100 years to talk about these events I'm learning about and it's the same guys because they're immortal?"

I say this in part because I wrote a similar story in high school without having read MoGF, but also because it's a very simple story with no actual plot arc, nothing actually changes by the end in the original comic. The addition of Dream "missing" the meeting adds a lot of weight and consequence that isn't there in the comic. The closest it gets is, "Dream says he's not going to come to the next 1989 meeting but then a bunch of stuff happens off screen and he shows up anyway, thus confirming they are indeed friends." That is barely a plot beat of any kind, nothing really changes, it just clarifies that they are friends, which we could have suspected the whole time.

Anyway, on that note, I've got a deep-seated suspicion that in the very earliest drafts of this story, Dream was Death. Because it makes sense. Death spares a commoner on the condition that he report back every century to tell about how his life is going. Also, Death is certain that this mortal will want to die at some point because of all the horrible things he's living through, but in the end he doesn't and they become friends.

Again, this is a very simple story, basically a fable. Then this story is lifted into a new setting, the Sandman universe, and the antagonist of Death is turned into Dream but Death is still there, because Death as a figure makes much more sense than Dream as the basis for this wager.

I've commented many times before that Hob has less than nothing to go on as far as guessing Dream's identity but that one very natural conclusion he could come to is that Dream is Death because Death is much easier and thematically consistent with what happens in the story than Dream. Dream even remarks in the show (paraphrased) that, "[He] is far more terrible than Death," which objectively makes very little sense other than in their personal mannerisms.

But Dream's curiosity as to Hob's will to live isn't all that consistent with his function as Lord of Dreams, can you really tell me that the Lord of Dreams can't conceive of a mortal that would want to live forever, who wouldn't dream of living forever? IMO this is one more piece of evidence that the story was lifted from an earlier draft where there is no Dream and Death, there is only Death and Hob, with Death left in as sort of a homage to the original premise and to explain why Dream would get involved at all in such a wager.

It also kind of explains why the implications of this centuries-long friendship get largely ignored until quite late in the Sandman comics. Dream would be Hob's only constant, at least that he can speak to and isn't like the Sun and the Moon or something, and yet our only nod to this is very very late in the comics.

Again, I think this is because in a fable about Death and A Normal Guy meeting over and over as a commentary on English history, it makes perfect sense that you wouldn't really explore the interpersonal implications of how Hob feels about this guy, if Hob cares about this guy, because it's Death, clearly this is just a fable.

But once it's not Death, once it's someone else, once Dream's interactions with this guy actually don't align with his function, actually rather glaringly doesn't align with his function such that his relationship with Hob actually becomes Dream's biggest singular point of individuality, the biggest piece of proof that he is an individual person and not just his function because watching this guy live has nothing to do with his function because he's not Death, then we also begin to wonder how important are these guys to one another, as individuals, because it's not a simple, streamlined fable anymore about Death and Just A Guy meeting.

Basically, I think that as is often the case, the inconsistencies are what give some of Gaiman's juvenilia works the charm that they have. They raise more questions than they answer, because they're not rigorously plotted and the implications of certain story decisions aren't explored, for example even how magic like immortality works in this world doesn't really make consistent sense (ex. Orpheus and Hob have very different immortalities within the same story despite both being gifted by Death, one can't choose to die whenever he wants and there's no explanation as to why this is other than The Story Demands It, which is rather clumsy but does lend to a sense of myth).

It's not until much later in the author's career in the comic and (retconned with) the show that the narratives begins to inquire into things like, "What do these two individuals mean to each other as people. Does Hob mourn Dream, or think of him when he's not there? Does the singularity of Hob in Dream's life matter to him, or give him pause?" all questions that would be absurd in a simplistic fable about Death and Just A Dude but once lifted from that original context, create fascinating inconsistencies that begin to matter and become fodder for deeper explorations as seen in fanfiction and shipping these two characters.

[tanadrin]

This series of four videos on Ukraine and the Russia-Ukraine conflict is very interesting. The first is basically just a narrative political history of Ukraine from about 2000 to 2014, talking about different political factions that were relevant in the country in the period, and how different internal and external pressures shaped politics. It's very helpful for understanding the Ukrainian political context, including just how recent and just how shallow the supposed tensions between monolingual Russian and bilingual Ukrainian-Russian speakers was in 2014.

The second video is an overview of the Donbass war from 2014-2022, which you might have been vaguely paying attention to at the time. But it's very helpful to have it all laid out in chronological order with the benefit of hindsight, especially due to the obfuscation of Russian operations at the time that made it hard to work out what, exactly, was going on. It's a combination of a good old 19th century-style filibuster (the military expedition, not the parliamentary maneuver), Fox News-style propaganda, and some (rather badly failed) attempts at astroturfing civil unrest--why Russia thought that would work becomes important in Part 4.

Part 3 is just an extended argument that NATO expansion is not relevant to the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, and while I already agreed with that assessment, it's nice to have it laid out in detail. The very very short version is that by NATO's own public criteria, Ukraine was simply not a candidate to join NATO, and had given up on joining NATO, and that had been painfully obvious since at least the Obama administration. Even more frustratingly, there were multiple points where Russia had an offramp to escalation, where it had gotten everything it could have possibly wanted from the conflict in Donbass, and it refused them all.

Part 4 is the author's attempt to explain why it refused them. The very short explanation is that Russia's government is led by idiots, who are very enamored of a flavor of conspiracy theory that has its origins in the LaRouche movement, and which has been bubbling in both left-wing and right-wing circles since 2000. In this worldview, the US government acting through the CIA (or the British royal family, or George Soros, or Jewish bankers, or whoever your bogeyman of choice is) has an almost supernatural ability to overthrow any government on earth by funding performance art groups (seriously), civil society NGOs, and protestors, and that almost every revolution, actual or so-called, since 1989 has been their direct work, from the post-Soviet revolutions, to Euromaidan, to the Arab Spring.

This belief, in its more overt or fragmentary forms, is incredibly popular, spurred on no doubt by historical instances of CIA malfeasance and actual aggressive wars waged by the Bush administration. But the problem is, it's bunk. During Russia's initial moves against Ukraine in 2014, they tried essentially the same playbook in the Donbass, and of course it failed miserably--you cannot actually astroturf a popular uprising. (The CIA has preferred to stage coups and assassinations, which are a different animal from color revolutions.) The separatists in the Donbass eventually had to be supported by a few thousand Russian troops and direct military aid.

But Putin, driven by his own paranoid misunderstanding of world events, the clique of yes-men he has embedded himself in, and his fear of gay Nazi Jewish CIA agents, simply got Russia in over its head. There is no offramp because Russia cannot articulate what its goals are, and because "stop trying to use George Soros to overthrow the Russian government" is not something the US can agree to, since they are not doing it. The only thing that might have prevented Putin fucking with Ukraine in the first place was maybe if rigging the parliamentary election in 2011 hadn't resulted in protests, in which Putin saw the specter of the hand of the CIA--but of course the US and NATO and the EU had nothing to do with that!

And to cap it all off, since the 2010s the LaRouche movement and its theory of color revolutions has been making inroads in China, so we have that to look forward to in coming decades.

[welikevitamins]

!METALLICA FANS!

so we recently have stumbled upon a fairly new metallica writer here on tumblr, @mustainegf, which is great because people giving the rest of the fandom media to consume and enjoy is always nice, but we have noticed a few things about their writing that just seem.. off

well, to say it simply we suspecting that they might be using AI to either write their fanfiction or help with it, which is highly unethical, since they don't even disclose it anywhere if that's the case.

not to mention how her discord server is full of minors, and she knowingly keeps exposing them to the content she creates on her platform. the fact that she is allowing minors and non minors and people with undisclosed age to make sexual jokes between eachother since the moderation is basically nonexistent is nothing but shameful, they should have a way of checking the age.

here are some things were are the most suspicious about and evidence regarding her use of ai:

~

the first thing is the sheer amount of fanfiction she managed to write since her first post in march of this year. well, after adding up all of the fanfics from each of her master lists for the people she writes for + the chapters of her series, we've concluded that she managed to write roughly 312 fanfictions this year. and sure, while some of those are headcanons and shorter formats, most of her work are full on stories. which seems simply impossible, since even short stories require a bit of a thought behind them. also Elena is supposed to be an adult since she writes NSFW stories, so we assume she has some things in her life that she does outside of writing all the time.

so the second that makes us suspicious about Elena's use of AI are her character ai bots.

its surprising that her, a pretty good writer would write such vague and simple intro messages, one would think she would make them more detailed since she possesses the skill to do so, same with her coding, the bots clearly don't know who they are and are just making up stuff like badly written ai's tend to do.

here's an example.

well, If you know a thing or two about kirk, you know this is simply not true. Kirk was born in 1962, which in 1989 made him 27, he is also not half-African American. mistakes like that could be prevented by simple coding, which is very simple if you put any kind or effort into it, it's basically just using a template and putting in information about the character, along with example messages to make the bot better, which a writer shouldn't struggle with.

here's an example of the short introduction messages she tends to make for her bots, it's quite unusual for someone experienced in writing to something like this. with no backstory or any additional context whatsoever.

moving forward since we already have discussed all of the ai points, we can move on to the situation going on with Elena's discord server.

those conversations are happening between minors, which the fact that they are saying stuff like this in public discord servers is just inappropriate on its own, but this server is also accessible to adults. users upon joining can choose a role of either 18- or 18+, and yes, most people there are minors, but there are also some adults. and the fact that adults and people of undisclosed age can engage in NSFW conversations about grown men with minors, is just highly dangerous and irresponsible, since the adults are free to chat with the minors anytime, they aren't separated in anyway.

moderation isn't exactly doing anything to stop that, since most of them are minors.

to close it out, we think that Elena herself is probably a minor, since she is very secretive about her life, which well, isn't necessarily wrong but it's very weird that we basically only know her name. And being a minor doesn't make the situation on her discord server excusable, she should take responsibility like a grown up if she wants to start grown up things.

to elena: you can either sort this out with us in private or come out and admit to what you're doing.

[bloomshroomz]

Bambi-sexual flag

Definition of bambi-sexual

Bambi-sexual, also spelled bambisexual or simply shortened to bambi, is a term for people who prefer nonsexual touch over sexual touch. The term originated in the 1980s or earlier.

The term was featured in The Alyson Almanac, which was originally published in 1989, with its second edition published the following year. In The Alyson Almanac, the following definition was given:

BAMBI-SEXUALITY. Physical interaction centered more about touching, kissing, and caressing than around genital sexuality.

Bambi-sexuality is often associated with lesbians (i.e. bambi lesbians), but is not exclusive to them. The term can be used by straight people, gay men, nonbinary people, aromantic people, and people of any other orientation and gender, so long as there is a preference for nonsexual touch.

Bambi-sexual people may or may not be additionally interested in sex. Bambi-sexuality also may or may not be an asexual/ace-spec sexuality, depending on the individual.

Explanation behind the flag

I based the colors on Bambi, from the 1942 Disney film by the same name. Each stripe also has its own additional meaning.

Yellow represents light and/or nonsexual forms of touch

Orange represents energy, joy, and warmth

Red represents nonsexual passion and intimacy

Purple brown represents asexual and ace-spec bambis

Yellow is a light color, which feels fitting to represent touch which does not involve genital contact, as genital touch/sex is often associated with darkness (dim lights, nighttime, etc). The lightness of the yellow can also allude to touch which is, in and of itself, considered a "light" form of touch, such as gentle caressing.

Orange commonly represents energy, joy, and warmth. This stripe highlights some of the positive emotions that can come with physical intimacy, whether of a sexual nature or not.

Red is commonly depicted as a fiery, passionate color. It is often used to represent things like love, sex, and intimacy. In this case, this is nonsexual passion and intimacy.

Purple brown represents asexual and ace-spec bambis because purple is commonly used to represent asexuality, and there is a lot of overlap between asexuality and bambi-sexuality. Some consider bambi-sexuality to be somewhat of a precursor to asexuality; people who identify as asexual now may have identified as bambi-sexual a few decades ago. While I'm not asexual/ace-spec myself (I'm just a bambi), I felt that this was important to include.

On a similar note, I decided to use only four stripes, specifically so it would look good/blend well with the asexual flag, due to the overlap in communities and identities.

LPS flag and bambi pride backgrounds for fun!

[blurredcolour]

Shake It Off

Summary: Called to the Lee/Hamilton wedding near the start of your shift to aid an eighty-year-old woman experiencing chest pains, you hope against hope not to run into someone from your past. But the man you meet there might just be your future.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Paramedic!Reader

Warnings: Medical Scenarios, Awkward Social Situations, Dress Whites, Language, Military Inaccuracies, Paramedical Inaccuracies, Rating - T.

Author's Note: Inspired by the song Shake It Off by Taylor Swift, written for @laracrofted's 1989 Challenge! Thank you very much for hosting the challenge, Amelia!

Word Count: 3075

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

Maybe he won’t be here.

The thought was fleeting, and born of desperation, as you pulled up to behind the fire truck in front of the Horton Grand Hotel.

There are plenty of people with the last name of Lee, the fact that this call is taking us to the Lee/Hamilton wedding doesn’t mean he will be here. Maybe it won’t even be a Navy wedding.

Jumping out of the driver’s seat of the ambulance, your hopes were immediately dashed as a tall man in dress whites stepped forward when you reached the rear doors.

“Damn, angel, you are devastating.” He drawled smoothly and you fairly felt his eyes, mostly obscured beneath the brim of his combination cap, tracing down your uniform as you reached forward to help your partner Delgado unload the stretcher.

“Good evening, sir.” You replied with crisp professionalism. “We’re here because someone called 911?”

“You brought one of those AEDs, right? Because I think you stopped my heart…” His peach-pink lips stretched back into a grin to reveal two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth.

“You’re our 80-year-old woman, sir? Please describe your chest pain.” Delgado replied flatly and you bit your lip to prevent your smirk, loading your gear onto the gurney.

Delgado was your first regular EMT partner since your move to San Diego nearly a year ago, wooed by the $50,000 bonus Falck offered to try and stabilize their work force. He was young, his social skills more than a little rough around the edges, but he worked hard and knew his stuff. Listened to your personal woes without too much complaint and was quite honestly the closest person you had to a friend here - working the graveyard shift as a paramedic really did not afford a lot of social opportunities.

And right now, you did not at all mind that he was there to get between you and the pretty boy in uniform. Because that meant he might be willing to run interference with someone else if the need arose.

“Ms. Mable is just this way, follow me.” The handsome stranger replied easily, undeterred, and turned to lead the pair of you through the lobby, smoothly tucking his cap under his arm as he stepped inside – a well practiced move you did your damnedest to ignore. Particularly the flex of his bicep.

Following just a few steps behind him, you guided the foot of the stretcher as Delgado came last, pushing the head of it. The lobby was narrow, no more than a tiled hallway really, with a wall of windows overlooking a New Orleans style courtyard – currently filled with women in formal dresses, men in suits, and a sea of dress whites. You quickly ducked your head, focusing on following the shoes of the man in front of you.

“I’m honestly not sure what happened, she seemed to be having a great time, dancing and laughing…and then she started clutching at her chest, having trouble catching her breath.” You perked up as he finally began to say something useful.

“Did the firefighters move her somewhere more quiet?” You asked as he led the pair of you past the sign welcoming guests to the Lee/Hamilton Wedding and over to a door beside the front desk.

“Yes, we were using this space for the wedding party anyway, so we set her up in the meeting room, just here.” Pulling open the door, he gestured for you and Delgado to proceed inside.

The crew from the fire truck had set a makeshift bench out of banquet chairs for her to sit upon, the wheeled meeting chairs pushed into a corner to make as much room as possible, but it still felt cramped. The patient was resting comfortably while Lombardo, their firefighter/paramedic, was assessing her vitals and reviewing the cardiac monitor.

Ms. Mable was all of five foot two, a cloud of perfectly styled, white hair upon her head, not a strand out of place despite the dramatic turn her evening had taken. Her face was etched with the lines of a life well-lived, yet she was easily holding court amongst the crew of physically intimidating individuals, animatedly recounting a story about the cutting of a cake with a sword, based on the few words you were able to catch. They stood in their suspendered Nomex trousers and heavy boots, entranced by her performance, as a woman in her mid-fifties sat close at hand, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings.

“Thank you for your assistance, sir.” You quickly tossed back over your shoulder to your guide before diving right into the scene, pulling on your nitrile gloves, all concern about the possible presence of a certain individual vanishing in the face of your job.

Once Lombardo had fully handed the scene over to you, as it was quite apparent that this was most likely a case of angina for which the woman already carried a prescription of nitroglycerin, you settled in to talk with Ms. Mable yourself. The departure of the first responders made the room feel infinitely more spacious.

“I hear you were tearing it up on the dance floor this evening…” You smiled warmly as Delgado continued to track her vitals.

“I’ve always had a hard time saying no to good-looking pilots….my Gerry was a pilot, you know. Fifty-three years together and he got away with everything. So, when this handsome, blonde flyboy from Texas kept asking me to dance there was no way I could turn him down.” The corners of her eyes creased with mirth, and you grinned warmly as the woman laughed beside her, shaking her head fondly.

“Breathing and cognition are good.” You turned back to Delgado who added the notes to the electronic file with a nod. “How many sprays of nitroglycerin did you end up taking, Ms. Mable?”

“Two, five minutes apart, just like the pamphlet says. I really am feeling much better, I’m so sorry to have made such a fuss but my daughter, Deborah, had already dialed before I could stop her.”

“No apologies necessary, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.” You nodded to her daughter reassuringly. “Are you local or just in town for the wedding?”

“Oh, lived here for the past forty years ever since Gerry was stationed at Miramar. Once you give up snow for palm trees and sand it’s impossible to ever go back. I saw you’re not wearing a ring, dear, is that just for the job?”

Delgado snorted indelicately and if it were not for the paperwork involved you would have delivered a swift kick to his shin.

“No, Ms. Mable, just haven’t found the right man yet.” You steadily increased the volume of your voice to drown out Delgado’s utterance of ‘not for lack of trying.’ “You have a cardiologist whom you see regularly?”

Mable blinked a little at the sudden change in your tone but answered all the same, “Dr. Atwal, same age as my grandson. But he knows his business, so I listen to him. San Diego is a fabulous place to meet a young fellow you know, so many eligible men out there. A lot of handsome pilots especially…even here tonight.”

A flash of movement, accompanied by a swell in the noise of the reception down the hall, caught your attention and you raised your eyes to see the face of your guide from earlier peering through a small gap in the doorway.

“Lieutenant Seresin…” You heard Ms. Mabel sigh fondly before her heart rate began to increase alarmingly. Your eyes snapped to the cardiac monitor to review the screen for evidence of any abnormal rhythms, aware of Delgado doing the same in your periphery.

“Now Ms. Mabel, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Jake…” He drawled and that’s when you placed his accent…Texas.

He was the handsome fly boy at the centre of all the tumult then. Somehow this did not surprise you at all.

“Where would the fun be in that, Lieutenant?” Came Mable’s repartee with a wicked grin and you straightened, well aware that you needed to put a stop to this before she reached her maximum doses of nitro just for a little flirting.

“Lieutenant Seresin, would you mind stepping out so we can do our jobs? Thank you.” You turned to look up at him authoritatively, wishing you weren’t able to see how green his eyes were in this light. How his hair reminded you of spun gold, especially when it was highlighted by the medals and pins and buttons of his uniform.

“Apologies Miss, just wanted to check on Ms. Mable here…” You noticed the way his grip tightened on the wood of the door and his eyes flitted to the floor guiltily.

He was not the first nosey by-stander you had asked to step back, nor would he be the last, and yet your heart spasmed as though you had kicked his puppy.

“Much better, and she’ll continue on that path if we can finish up, thank you.” You found yourself reassuring him, willfully ignoring Delgado’s scoff.

Whether your boot knocking into his was intentional or an accident was something he, thankfully, did not question. With a sigh of relief, the Lieutenant closed the door, and you were able to turn your attention fully back to your patient, whose heart rate was normalizing, yet her eyes were full of mischief.

“Quite the catch, isn’t he?” She fairly crowed.

You cleared your throat forcefully to refocus and looked over everything once more. “Ms. Mable, I really don’t think you’re having a heart attack. Of course, we do recommend going to the hospital to have everything checked out by the doctors there.”

She was already shaking her head halfway through your statement. “Absolutely unnecessary, young lady. Where’s the thing to sign? I don’t need another ambulance ride.”

“Mom, are you sure? She said they recommend…”

“Deborah, no. If you want, you can drive me, but this is excessive.”

After a little more back and forth, Ms. Mable ended up signing the ‘refusal of service against medical advice’ form and you and Delgado packed up your gear.

“Have a good night Ms. Mable, but maybe stay away from blonde pilots from Texas?” You teased warmly before making your way back out to the lobby.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom. Finally, a chance to pee somewhere with nice smelling soap.” Delgado excused himself, leaving you alone next to a circular table near the front entrance.

The sound of the wedding party drifting through glass doors behind you in the courtyard fanned the banked coals of your anxiety into roaring flames once more now that the distraction of your duties had been removed. Brigham had to be here somewhere, this was surely his pilot’s wedding…

You surged forward toward the front doors, wanting to at least wait outside, and nearly ran headfirst into Lieutenant Seresin.

“Easy there, angel. Sorry about that. Already on your way to your next call?” He steadied you easily, hands on your shoulders. Enveloping your shoulders.

Shaking your head quickly, you laughed once at yourself. “Just heading outside to wait for my partner, the gurney takes up a lot of space.” You stepped out of his grasp and swallowed thickly. “Have a good night, Lieutenant.” You tried once again to make your escape but found him walking along with you, on the other side of the stretcher. Helping.

“Ms. Mable refused to take a ride with you?” He asked, sliding his cover onto his head as you stepped outside.

You shrugged softly, not really at liberty to discuss it, opening the back of the ambulance and loading the stretcher inside. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the rest of the party.”

He smirked, leaning against the back of ambulance unhurriedly. “You seemed to be missing the part where I’m much more interested in getting to know you, angel.”

You opened your mouth to try and summon some form of polite refusal when you heard his voice.

“Yo Hangman, are you harassing anything in a uniform these days?” Followed by that irritating laugh that you had never really had a chance to try and find a reason to love.

You watched the muscle between Lieutenant Seresin’s eyebrows twitch before he turned to face the jokester, revealing Brigham “Harvard” Lennox. He looked exactly the same as your second and final date nearly six months ago, appearance slightly improved by the dress whites, though you noticed his cap was negligently still tucked beneath his arm. His arm upon which a dewy-skinned, long-limbed, glossy-haired woman hung.

He blinked a little in recognition as his eyes fell upon your face and you offered a polite smile.

“Nice to see you again…” he said a name, not your name, but at least the first letter was the same. For the sake of letting this agony end, you would have let it go, if not for Delgado’s untimely return.

His reflexive correction of your first name as he walked through the group to hop up into the back of the ambulance without a second’s hesitation immediately thickened the ambient tension.

“Oh right, yeah, been a while huh?” Brigham grinned vacuously, not even having the grace to appear embarrassed. “Lookin’ good…” He added disingenuously, glancing over your uniform with less than kind eyes, moving his arm to wrap around his date’s silk-clad waist. You watched as her perfectly manicured gel nails came to rest on his bicep, a silent proclamation that her job, if she had one, was nothing like yours.

“Oh shit, this is that pilot who ghosted you a while back.” Delgado blurted out from over your shoulder where he was stowing the last of the gear, and you clenched your fists.

“Weapon systems officer.” You snapped despite your desire to keep the exchange civil, but halfway through the correction, you realized you were speaking in unison with Lieutenant Seresin.

You didn’t miss the way Brigham’s jaw clenched in dismay before turning to see Delgado backing away with both hands raised in surrender. “Whatever, I’ll be up front.”

“So, which one of your ‘exam questions’ did she fail, Harvard?” Lieutenant Seresin asked, tone light and playful but with a dangerous edge to it.

The latter scoffed and shook his head. “What are you even talking about Hangman?!” He protested loudly.

“Baby, I’ll meet you at the car, ‘kay?” Brigham’s date pulled back, patting his chest, and tottered away on her heels.

“No really,” Lieutenant Seresin dropped the friendly façade and looked over his colleague seriously. “Which was it then? Exclusivity? Kids? Careers?”

As he listed each topic his eyes flicked between your face and Brigham’s increasingly scarlet and annoyed expression. You tried to keep an impassive mask but there was a slight tick in your jaw as you involuntarily clenched your teeth at the word ‘career.’ You had long suspected that had been the reason his texts had stopped coming. The fact that you wanted one and he wanted someone to dedicate their lives to supporting him in his.

Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes flashed in recognition, and he rounded on Brigham. “Apologize to the lady for ghosting her over having career ambitions, Harvard.” He said firmly.

“What the hell are you even talking about Hangman, you don’t even know…” Brigham sputtered in protest and a small part of you wanted to tell Lieutenant Seresin not to worry about it.

“You were an idiot, Brigham. Now apologize.” He repeated firmly and any thought of excusing Brigham’s behaviour died in that instant, because it was true. He had been an idiot and it had been painful. You had been rather convinced it was going nowhere fast, but sudden and complete silence had hurt all the same.

You almost missed the apology as the first time Brigham delivered it; he used that wrong name again. Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes narrowed into an icy glare, and it was quickly amended to your proper name.

“Now go find your date before you screw up that relationship too.” Lieutenant Seresin gestured with his chin for him to go away before barking after him, “Cover!”

Brigham slammed his cap onto his head and only walked faster toward the parking lot as you chewed on your lower lip savagely lest you do something unseemly like indulge in laughter at his expense. You took a steadying breath before turning back to face your unexpected ally.

“Come on, they’re holding calls!” Delgado shouted from the front seat, and you exhaled with that withheld laugh. One that Lieutenant Seresin echoed.

“In an effort to restore the reputation of the United States Navy, and prove to you that Brigham Lennox is an aberration, will you let me take you out for a drink?” He tilted his head with an inviting curl of his lips.

He had absolutely no right looking that attractive, or being that good of a man, or putting Brigham in his place so handily.

“I…I’m sorry I just started my shift at nine…” You fussed with your stethoscope nervously, trying to pull it into place around your neck even though it was already right where it was most comfortable.

“What time do you get off, then?” He persisted. “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You frowned in thought, weighing the pros and cons of spending more time on another Navy boy, when an all-call came through the radio, drowning out your internal dialogue.

–  All available units, MCI northbound interstate five just after First Avenue underpass, please respond –

Your eyes widened as Delgado immediately picked up the receiver.

“Medic 3-6 responding, approximately seven minutes out.”

“Lieutenant, I have to go.” You looked to him quickly, stepping up into the ambulance, closing one door and reaching for the second as he swung it towards you. You stopped it suddenly with your palm, yanking a business card containing your station information from your front pocket and slid it into his free hand.

“My shift ends at nine, won’t be ready before 9:30. As for when I get off…” You couldn’t hold back your smirk any longer, your heart skipping a beat, making you thankful you weren’t hooked up to the cardiac monitor just then. “…we’ll just have to see about that.”

His blinding grin was the last thing you saw before you pulled the other door to the rig shut, shouting for Delgado to pull out, lights and sirens ablaze.

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

>>> return to main masterlist

[themissingchildfromhistory]

Just a few things on my mind that I haven't seen anyone talking about yet for The Umbrella Academy season 4......

1). I think it would have been drastically cooler if, when Ben spiked the sake with the marigold, everyone's powers got switched around. At least for a bit. Allison gets the knife thing, Viktor getting Ben's tentacles, etc. Mainly Diego getting Five's blink ability. That way the whole Lila-getting-lost-in-a-time-subway-with-a-Hargreevees actually makes sense. Her and Diego could have used that time to actually talk and spell out their grievances with each other, instead of the three sentence bullshit they got. Maybe they didn't speak to each other for a few months. But they slowly realized, hey. I do love you. I love you lots. Our lives aren't perfect, given all the trauma we've been through and how we were shoved into this normal domestic life (which isn't a bad thing, but definitely requires an adjustment time after what they're used to) but I still love you, and our life together. And our three kids, who all actually have names and importance.

1.5). WHAT HAPPENED TO THE RANDOM GUY/WAITER WHO GOT DRENCHED IN MARIGOLD SAKE FROM KLAUS?! DID HE GET POWERS TOO?? OR WOULD THE MARIGOLD HAVE TO BE INGESTED FOR THAT TO HAPPEN??

2). The mothers. They weren't all impregnated and gave birth on the same day, but that doesn't mean they possibly wouldn't go on to have children. And while the kids they had would have human/real fathers, that doesn't mean the Umbrellas couldn't have still been born. I think the ending would have been so much better if it showed all 8 of them in their respective homes living out their lives had their mother's given birth to them normally. Klaus in the Amish community, Ben in Korea, Viktor in Russia teaching violin, hell, maybe a few of them still managed to meet up somehow. Maybe we see the Sparrows too. Who knows. But just because this version of them "had" to die (that's obviously a whole bunch of bullshit on its own) doesn't mean they wouldn't somehow exist later, when and if their mothers decided to have kids.

3). I think Diego should have been there when Lila saw the kids off in the subway. Five being there and being the one to chase after her/comfort her was part of the whole grossness that was their relationship. Diego should have been able to say goodbye to all of this kids/family as well.

Other thoughts that don't particularly pertain to just season 4....

If Reginald was on Earth in the 1800s, why did it take him till 1989 to release the marigold and cause the Umbrellas/Sparrows/Phoenixes to be born??

What is the purpose of marigold??? Why did Abigail invent it??

If Durango is the side effect of creating marigold, are there others out there who have Durango instead of marigold?? Could some of the other 40 something kids born in 1989 have Durango instead of marigold??

If the whole goal was to eventually use marigold to.... reset the timeline? in the end of s3, why use it to impregnate women in the first place???? Why not just use the fucking marigold as is??!

What was the purpose of the league of generic men in season 2?? Why assassinate Kennedy?? I had originally thought the other 12 men were aliens like Reginald and they were in the rockets seen fleeing the other world. But clearly not

There's definitely more, but these are the most pressing ones I can think about right now. In conclusion season 4 was trash with a few good highlights thrown in and would have been better if the cast just put on a stage production in a high school auditorium

[sweet-like-cinnamon-5]

Sandman Audible - Favorite James McAvoy Line Readings - Sound of Her Wings / Men of Good Fortune

The Sandman Book Club has been discussing The Sound of Her Wings / Men of Good Fortune for the past few weeks, so I am now sharing my:

Favorite James McAvoy Line Readings from the Sandman Audible for these episodes (because his line readings are glorious)

The Bread (Sound of Her Wings)

So in the comic and the TV show, Death throws the bread at Dream, and obviously he doesn't feel the need to describe what happened. But in the Audible, there's a "thump" noise and then he says: "You... threw the bread at me" in such a tone of shock.

The Matted Hair (Men of Good Fortune)

Death and Dream are about to go into the tavern for the first time. Dream is unimpressed by what he sees, and says this:

"The human world. I could conjure a nightmare from these faces. The missing teeth, the pocked skin, the matted hair."

His delivery of "the matted hair" has no business being as funny as it is, lmao

The Appointed Hour (Men of Good Fortune)

Finally, it's 1989. Hob thinks he's being stood up, but in the comic/Audible version of things, he is not!

The bartender/waitress has been teasing Hob (or "Bob," as she knows him). Then the door opens and she sees Dream and says, "Oh Bob! Your friend's here!"

And then Dream says:

"AT THE APPOINTED HOUR!"

Honestly. James McAvoy says it so proudly. I picture him like kicking the door open and yelling his hello to the entire bar. It. is. so. great. (It is also the exact opposite of any way I could ever picture Tom Sturridge's version of Dream ever greeting anybody ever. But in the audiobook, it is perfect.)

(It's funny to me also that the bartender recognizes Dream as "Bob's friend." I can just imagine Hob being like- "ok so I'm waiting for someone, he has pale skin [like VERY pale skin], black hair, his eyes are sometimes stars, and his clothing is always era appropriate. like he definitely looks like he's dressed for the correct year. can you let me know if you see him?" And the bartender being like uh huh sure thing bob)

[thesoulesscollection]

The Kinsley Family Reference Sheets

I decided to update my reference sheets for my Ocs, The Kinsley Family, at least, Choc, Honey, & Cherry mostly because the old one is terribly outdated now.

Name: Chocolate Fudge Kinsley

Nicknames: Choc, Fudge, Pops, King

Age: 59yo (in 2015); born April 1st, 1956

Gender: Cis Male; Genderfluid, Uses He/Him, They/Them, & It/It's, Rarely She/Her

Sexuality: Aromantic Pansexual Alignment: Chaotic Neutral/EvilAffiliation: Toppat Clan

Job Title: Semi Retired, Former Enforcer, Current Undercover Agent/Spy

Ethnicity: French (on Mother's side) & Slavic & German (on Father's side)

● Height: 6’3”

● Weight: 125 lbs

Appearance:

● Sun kissed skin that's covered in a plethora of scars, burns, stab/bullet holes, stretch marks & progressed signs of age

● Blackened limbs by magic use being corrupted, so often wears bandages to treat it and lesson the damage

● Gold teeth. Unnaturally sharp. With distinctive scarring across his mouth and lips. His gums are a dark gray while his tongue is pitch black and goopy

● Droopy gold eyes, heavy bags lay underneath with horizontal slit pupils that are white in color

● Sunken in features,

● Thick dark brown wavy hair, natural color is a light blonde that's shown in the roots, a bit in the brows, and slight facial hair. Starting to go gray

● Is unhealthily skinny and boney. Long limbs and primarily all legs. Naturally a lanky, lean body type more built on speed rather than strength

Powers:

● Aura Projection

● Shapeshifting & Puppeteering

● Mental Control & Manipulation Illusion

● Voice Mimicry

● Corruption Touch

Health Conditions:

● Chronic Pain & Illness

●Significant Hearing Loss/Hard Of Hearing

● Eating Disorder (Unspecified)

● Semi Permanent Paralysis

●Hypermobility; joint Hypermobility syndrome

● Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

● Empathy Deficit Disorder (EDD)

● Corruption Effects

Relations:

Honey Kinsley: Sister

Cherry Kinsley: Daughter

Candy Kinsley: Grandmother (Deceased)

Truffles Kinsley: Mother (Deceased)

Ronald Kinsley: Father (Deceased)

Leslie Fernández: Ex-Partner (Deceased)

***

Name: Honey Sweets Kinsley

Nicknames: Hons, Bee, Bumble Bee, Sweet Drops

Age: 56yo (in 2015); born February 14th, 1959

Gender: Cis Female; Uses She/Her

Sexuality: Bi (Preference Leans Towards Masc People/Men)

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Affiliation: The Royals

Job Title: Leader of her own clan; Ex Toppat Member

Ethnicity: French (on Mother's side) & Slavic & German (on Father's side)

Height: 5'11”

Weight: 175 lbs

Appearance:

Warm, cream skin. Very little scars reside. But there's freckles and a few beauty marks.

● She looks like what her age entails but has high standards on her appearance (and that of her family).

● Resting bitch/angry face

● Rose gold eyes. Once was a vibrant gold like her brother & niece. She does have noticeable bags under them from lack of sleep and long work hours.

● Naturally dirty blonde hair, more a light brown. Gets Blond highlights to hide gray hairs. Naturally straight hair that's been styled pretty often.

● Sharper, angular features. Wrinkles and crow's feet.

● Body type is a square that's stacked with experienced muscle

Health Conditions:

● Anger Issues

● Depression

● Anxiety

● Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

● Insomnia

● Paranoid personality disorder

Powers:

● Boosted (inhuman) strength

● Mental Control & Manipulation

● Smoke/Cloud & Crystal Manipulation

● Illusion

***

Name: Cherry Kinsley

Nicknames: Cher, Doll, Princess

Age: 26yo (in 2015); born December 31st, 1989

Gender: Trans Female; Uses She/Her

Sexuality: Demiromantic Omnisexual, Poly

Alignment: Neutral Good

Affiliation: Toppat Clan

Job Title: Non Active Member, Apprentice (for her father), (Anxious eager) Helper to any department

Ethnicity: French, Slavic & German (on Father's (Choc) side) & Dominican, Caribbean & Egyptian (on her other parent's side)

Height: 6’9”

Weight: 235lbs

Appearance:

● Smooth, dark brown skin with freckles and scarring and first & second degree burns all over her body.

● Scars, most noticeable are around her neck, shoulders, and most primarily on her back caused from her first raid, as she unfortunately got ensnared with shrapnel causing most of her current injuries and burn marks.

● Very clumsy though so she does have other minor injuries and scarring all over her body as well.

● Round, nearly baby faced features and physique. Fat & muscled. An apple shape body type

● Big Gold eyes, almost doe like, thick lashes

● Looks far more like her other parent then she does share similarities with her father, Choc

● Naturally curly (4a) hair, ebony black in color with some faint purple highlights

● Has laugh lines from always having a smile on her face no matter what her actual emotions are

Health Conditions:

● Anxiety

● Depression

● Chronic Headaches

Powers:

● Enhanced Strength

● Future Vision, A Seer

● Most Powers are repressed & Unknown

Relations:

Choc Kinsley: Father

Honey Kinsley: Aunt

Terrence Suave: Family Friend

Leslie Fernández: Other Parent (Deceased)

[verycleverboy]

Almost thirty-four years after Donald Trump took out a full-page ad in New York newspapers calling for the return of the death penalty in the wake of the case of a group of young African-American men branded the “Central Park Five”, and a few days after Trump was charged with thirty-four felony counts, one of the now-Exonerated Five took out a full-page ad of his own. The full text follows:

BRING BACK JUSTICE & FAIRNESS. BUILD A BRIGHTER FUTURE FOR HARLEM!

On May 1, 1989, almost thirty-four years ago, Donald J. Trump spent $85,000 to take out full-page ads in The New York Times, New York Daily News, New York Post and New York Newsday, calling for the execution of the Central Park Five — an act he has never apologized for, even after someone else confessed to and was convicted of the crime, the convictions of all five of us were overturned, and we were renamed the Exonerated Five.

Instead, Mr. Trump has often doubled-down. A few weeks after taking out the ad, he went on CNN and stated: "I hate these people and let's all hate these people because maybe hate is that we need if we're gonna get something done."

Even after our exoneration and acknowledgment by the government that we had been wrongfully convicted, Mr. Trump continued to incite animus against me, my peers and our families. In 2013 — over a decade after our exoneration — Trump called the Ken and Sarah Burns Central Park Five documentary "a one-sided piece of garbage," and when asked how he felt now that we were shown to be innocent, responded: "Innocent of what?"

In 2014, the City of New York finally reached a settlement with the members of the Exonerated Five, awarding at compensation to help us rebuild our lives after so many years were taken from us. But even that acknowledgement from the city wasn't enough for Trump to see five young Black and Latino men as anything other than criminals, saying "settling doesn't mean innocence."

Note, after several decades and an unfortunate and disastrous presidency, we all know exactly who Donald J. Trump is — a man who seeks to deny justice and fairness for others, while claiming only innocence for himself.

Being wrongfully convicted as a teenager was an experience that changed my life drastically. Yet I am honored when people express how deeply they connect with my story.

It matters because, while my experience may have been extreme, I have lived through a form of trauma that many of us experience in some way every day throughout our country. My past is an example of systemic oppression imposed by the injustice system.

But the problems our community faced when my name was splashed across the newspapers a generation ago — inadequate housing, underfunded schools, public safety concerns, and a lack of good jobs — became worse during Donald Trump's time in office.

I am trying to change that, by working with so many other dedicated community members to build a better future for everyone, both here in Harlem and across the country.

Here is my message to you, Mr. Trump: In response to the multiple federal and state criminal investigations that you are facing, you responded by warning of "potential death and destruction," and by posting a photograph of yourself with a baseball bat, next to a photo of Manhattan DA Alvin Bragg. These actions, just like your actions leading up to the January 6 insurrection at the U .S. Capitol, are an attack on our safety.

Thirty-four years ago, your full-page ad stated, in all caps: "CIVIL LIBERTIES END WHEN AN ATTACK ON OUR SAFETY BEGINS."

You were wrong then, and you are wrong now. The civil liberties of all Americans are grounded in the U.S. Constitution, and many of us fight every day to uphold those rights, even in the face of those like you who seek to obliterate them.

Now that you have been indicted and are facing criminal charges, I do not resort to hatred, bias or racism — as you once did.

Even though thirty-four years ago you effectively called for my death and the death of four other innocent children, I wish you no harm.

Rather, I at putting my faith in the judicial system to seek out the truth. I hope that you exercise your civil liberties to the fullest, and that you get what the Exonerated 5 did not get — a presumption of innocence, and a fair trial.

And if the charges are proven and you are found guilty, I hope that you endure whatever penalties are imposed with the same strength and dignity that the Exonerated Five showed as we served our punishment for a crime we did not commit.

--Yusef A. Salaam

[thehyperfixationspeedrunner]

HIIIIIIIIIII WE HAVENT TALKED IN A WHILE HRU

WHICH HYPERFIXATION ARE YOU ON NOW HUH 👀

AND WOULD YOU REC?

HIIIIIII, I FINISHED HIGH SCHOOL YESTERDAY AND I'M IN EXAMS SEASON SO I'M NOT DOING GREAT, HRU???

Girl, you just opened a big bag of worms cause this hyperfixation has taken over the other like 4 that were in my mind at the same time (one of them since January).

There are just a few things I have to warn you about the show before I throw my words at you: there is blood and violence, they do not shy from that; there is physical abuse mentioned and shown (although it's just shown in one scene, if that's the only thing bothering you but you wanna watch I can tell you when to skip); there is cursing, nothing major just what a high schooler would normally curse; abusive relationships and bullies are subjects that are heavily spoken about; death, don't know if that's a trigger but better safe that sorry and I'm pretty sure that's it

First, I have to ask you two questions:

Do you like supernatural stuff?

Do you like gays?

If the answer to both of them is yes, then you need to watch dead boy detectives. It's a series about two ghosts (Edwin Payne- "the brains", spent 70 years in hell, sassy little bitch, from London 1916 and speaks like it, gay, a fucking nerd, somehow everyone is in love with him except his crush (more like the crush doesn't know that he is in love with him, but whatever), so much trauma it's insane, tumblr's favourite; Charles Rowland- said crush, "the brawns", so bisexual but doesn't know it yet, do you know that character that is so charismatic and funny but actually has so much fucking trauma? That's him, daddy issues (because of abuse), from 1989, has a magical bag, so fucking british, so fucking protective of his friends it's insaneee like he will kill someone for them) and these two ghosts are detectives and solve cases to ghosts so they can move on to the afterlife.

This show is so fucking well written, you have no idea, like Charles and Edwin's relationship is so unique, because even though there is a romantic subtext they are best friends before eveything and they know eachother so well it's so rare to see such good friendship where they are so open with eachother in media specially between men (also their ship name is painland, if that's not enough reason to watch the show idk what is).

Another great example of the amazing writing is that characters like Charles normally have their trauma super overlooked, but in this show his trauma is treated so well, there is still a lot to work from it (reason 484837 why I need a season 2) but the other characters actually see his trauma and acknowledge it, it's so fucking satisfying to me because these type of characters are always my favourites but they always have that lack of development (I sometimes confuse between my mutuals who likes what but I'm pretty sure you have read hoo so you know Leo Valdez? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about).

Speaking of development, they do not leave characters behind. There is this character called Niko Sasaki, who is this girl who loves anime and loves love and is always so positive and so sweet and always thinking of others. Now, when someone describes this type of character, my first reaction is "oh, so she's just the comedic relief who is going to have a shallow ass personality" (no shade to that type of characters, shade to the writers who leave them behind), BUT SHE'S NOT. She also has her traumas (dead dad, literally almost dies, more shit that I don't wanna spoil) and they acknowledge it and they develop her. She may not be one of the main focuses of season 1 (I'm pretty sure if we get a season 2, she's gonna have more screen time because of... [spoilers]) but she still has some character development, in the 3rd episode they are solving a pretty brutal case and she says that she doesn't want to be part of it because she litterally almost died the previous week and it's totally okay, she stays at home watching scooby doo and eating noodles, again so fucking satisfying.

Since we're talking about Niko, I have to talk about the dynamics of this show because OMG THE DYNAMICS OF THIS SHOW. Like, you look at the way I described Niko and the way I described the boys and you would think that they would focus on Niko and Charles relationship, right? The two charismatic kids, makes sense. Wrong, it's actually Niko and Edwin's. At first, you're like "you're gonna pair Mr. Horrible at relationships with other people and hates physical touch with Ms. Loves love and hugs fucking everyone?" BUY IT WORKS, IT WORKS SO GODDAMN WELL, IT'S INSANE, they easily became my favourite dynamic of all times, it's so fucking good. Actually, Charles and Niko is the only dynamic that isn't really developed in this show (which is a crime honestly, how could they).

Another thing is that there is one (1) antagonist out of four who isn't likeable. And that fucker is litterally Crystal's abusive demon ex (I've realised now that I haven't talked about my queen yet, she's a bitch, she's a physic, she's fucking badass, she doesn't know who she is until the 8th episode (not in a philosophical way, she litterally loses her memory) and her dynamic with Edwin is fucking hilarious, it's an on going competion of who gets to be the bitcher). There is a witch who is immortal, kidnaps young girls to feed to her snake and has an obsession with getting revenge on the boys and Crystal (they hadn't met Niko when they confronted her for the first time), but she serves cunt everytime she's on screen and she's so hilarious, you love to hate her and deep down you also love her. There is a cat king who is the reason Crystal, Edwin and Charles get stuck in the town they spend the season (they live in London, the town is somewhere on the US coast, technically it's just Edwin who is stuck, but they're all ride or die) all because he wants to fuck Edwin but Edwin doesn't, but his hilarious and annoying in a funny way and a loser and a simp. There is a woman from the afterlife office who spends the whole season trying to catch the boys (who are running away from death, it's a whole thing), fails and ends up stuck with them, I just got mad at her when she interrupted a love confession, but we got it later so it's fine. Then there's David the demon (yes, that's his name, yes, that's hilarious) who is Crystal's abusive ex, is able to get inside her mind whenever he wants and is just so fucking annoying (but is such a great simbol of abusive relationships and how much they scare you even after it's over).

Also, no one, and I mean no one, in this fucking show is straight, whether it is confirmed or not it doesn't matter (although 4 of the nine recurent characters are canonically queer).

Don't know if you heard about it, but this is from the same universe as the show The Sandman and there are two cameos in this show (both Death and Despair get a scene).

There are two things that weren't perfect in this show: the fact that Charles and Niko got one (1) scene together (fucking crime) and the CGI, not that it's all bad it's just they focused on the more visual scenes that make you go uuhh and aaahhh but there is a roof where they sometimes talk where the CGI is so bad, but it's just background shit, do not decide not to watch because of it the only scenes like that are the roof scenes and a scene in the forest (again, background shit).

I did just spend around an hour writing all of this, you are not gonna read this whole ass essay, but just watch the show, it's on illegal sites Netflix (although if you have Netflix, put it, even if it's just background noise, we need the views, this is Netflix and a not that cheap queer show we're talking about)

[gabessquishytum]

Dream and Hob have a little game they like to play in the Dreaming where they reenact their centennial meetings, with Hob fully reliving them and with no memory further than the night in question, but at some point during the meeting Dream will come onto Hob and initiate sex.

They thoroughly discuss beforehand what Hob would and would not be open to based on those points in his life, maybe even some consensual memory modification so that Hob isn’t concerned with the consequences or obstacles there would have been had they done this in reality (like Eleanor, or his grief after, or even just the people around them caring), and there is a small part of his subconscious left aware with the power to call timeout if the memory is too overwhelming anyway and it stops being sexy and good. But otherwise he gets to enjoy the delightful surprise and wonderment when his Stranger suddenly climbs into his lap, or pulls Hob into his lap, or any number of lovely alternatives.

I leave to you and your anons what Dream chooses to do at each meeting (and with it being a game of theirs in the Dreaming, they could do multiple variations for each one), but I have a couple ideas in mind for a few of them:

1489 — Dream says that he’s interested, and Hob asks “in me?”, and Dream simply says “yes”, taking Hob’s hand from across the table and kissing it, maintaining eye-contact. He then has Hob stand and come around the table and sit on Dream’s lap, where Dream can more easily peel back his layers and show Hob that he has his undivided attention.

1689 — Dream always makes it a night of TLC for Hob, giving him luxurious baths and hand-feeding him, then laying him down on the softest bed and sucking his tits and cock and licking into his hole all until Hob cries.

1789 — after dealing with Lady Johanna and her men, Dream immediately pushes Hob up against a wall and whispers his “you need not have come to my defense” line before clawing at Hob’s pants to gain access to his ass, in order to pin Hob to the wall and impale him on Dream’s cock, saying that despite it being unnecessary such gallantry deserves a reward.

1989 — Hob barely has time to sit down before Dream is barreling in. He pushes a standing Hob back into his seat and follows him into his lap, before shoving his tongue into his mouth. He barely lets Hob up for air except to mutter apologies for the way he left last time, as well as eventually sliding to the floor on his knees to pull Hob’s cock out and get his mouth on it.

-🪽anon

Ooo yes I love a little centennial spice. I'll happily fill in the gaps that you didn't mention!!

1389 - Hob invites the mysterious stranger who just approached their table to sit with him and his pals, only there are no more chairs... so Dream sits on Hob’s lap and spends the rest of the night smirking and squirming up against his gradually hardening cock

1589 - Dream sits on the table which has been laid out with a veritable feast, and suggests that Hob should put his mouth to better use by eating Dream’s pussy and arse. Maybe Hob teases him by taking bites of food in between licks of Dream’s cunt. Either way Shakespeare is long forgotten.

1889 - it's Hob’s turn to crawl on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Dream says that he'll forget Hob’s careless words and forgive him for being so crass. But first he wants to turn Hob over his lap, pull down his gentlemanly clothes, and spank his bottom red and raw. It's not a punishment, just a reminder that if Hob wants nice things? Then he'd better behave himself.

I always love the idea of them revisiting the white horse in dreams and rehashing their meetings. The best part is, they can do it differently every single time!

[jackiequick]

A Visit From An Old Friend — [ Marvel Fanfic]

Summary: What happens when an old friend comes to visit to recruit something bigger than himself? In other words, a small family reunion between friends, with a couple of ants crawling around.

Platonic Pairing: Hank Pym & Jason Underwood

Characters featured/mentioned: The Young Avengers, Janet Van Dyne, Liz Stark, Howard Stark, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne and etc.

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ant-Man (2015)

Fic type: Short Blurb

Small warning: Some fluff and angst

----

The daylights were in full swing, the radio was high and bright as he drove down the road to a old house he used to call home. At the steps of the house stood a man he hasn't seen in the late 80s but never forgotten.

Above the steps stood the man with dark rich blonde curls spiked in a nicely manner, a blue colored shirt and black James Dean jeans wearing a pair of shades himself. He sipping on a cup of coffee with a half smile to boot.

He parked the car in the east side of the parkway as he existed the vehicle, flipping the keys in hand and removed his sunglasses with a smile.

As he took towards the step he heard the man said, "Hank."

"JJ." He replied, as he was handed a cup of warm coffee.

"What was the reason for this visit?"

"You got my email didn't you?"

"Yup."

"You missed seeing Hope."

"It was an 8 hour drive! You know how hard it was to get out of that house without Felton and Rei breathing down my neck?"

"This is why I stopped babysitting."

The blonde just playfully glared following the older one into his old home. Jason hasn't been in this house of his in more than a century, having took time to take care of his older one in Malibu. Yet, he never had the heart to throw away the keys, so instead he gave them to Hank. And by god, was he glad he did.

His old home was kept nice and cleaned, some mess here and there. A few dust particles in certain smaller areas but other than that it was fine. Keeping its cozy yet vintage style. Hank sat down on the grey couch that used to be a dark brown, sipping his second morning coffee taking in the moment of peace. Jason sat in the armchair beside him closing his eyes.

Neither man had to say a word to know that they missed the peace and quiet this house brought. No screaming children, calls from SHIELD, nor nagging neighbors trying to get you to babysit their dumb dog for the weekend. Just a moment of total silence from the world around them.

Yes, truth be told, after 1989 Hank was never seen again towards SHIELD's main offices due to his stupid fallout with Howard and the others. But he often kept in touch with people like him or Peggy, whenever possible. Mainly because Hope wanted to see her aunts and uncles, and after Janet's passing Hank couldn't deprive his daughter from not having any closer family or friends around.

Jason tended to be his go-to person whenever he needed a quick babysitter for Hope, whenever the blonde was in town and he happily said yes. He first thought Hank would want nothing to do with him after what Howard pulled on the man, but after a small debate on that very day both men realized they couldn't hold grudges against each other.

They already had too many grudges over their heads to even count, why add another? It would only lead to a bigger headache anyways.

So over the years, Hank and Jason would put aside a small time to check in on one another. Make sure the other man wasn't dead yet. It was a running joke on who would die first out of the two. But at this rate, knowing the people in their lives, they won't let them get bury in the ground so easily.

Yet.

He peaked an eye open as he rested his head and asked, "JJ? You got what I sent you?"

The others eyes were still closed as he hummed, "Yeah. I sent the small package and if I'm correct, it will be brought though word of mouth soon enough."

"Good. I hope this guys is worth it. If he's smart enough, he will do as I planned."

"Why Scott Lang anyway? I gave you a list of people you can choose from and you chose him..."

"Scott Lang broke into Vistacorp Headquarters to pay back the money VistaCorp had been stealing from their users, before he brought into prison. Heard of it?"

"Yeah, he pulled strong a stunt risking to pay back all that money they took. According to the file, he has a master degree in electrical engineering, which gave him the skills to hack into their grid."

Hank smirked, "That's why I need him. He has a special set of skills as a hacker and thief. I want to test him, see if he's able to play the game right."

"If he can break into the lock and steal the suit, then he was a right fit." Jason added with a grin, "..he also has a daughter Hank. You know better than anyone the length you would go to see your kid. Chances are, he ends up in jail again."

"He won't."

"Hank."

"I have a plan. Trust me on this one."

"And I'll be here to say 'I told you so' when it goes sideways."

The two crack a chuckle knowing it was bound to happen whether they liked it or not. But if the plan does end up going sideways, they always had other ways of doing things. Even if it meant going undercover to bait Scott Lang into the older man's plan. Both spent the rest of the day catching up, watching some tv and grabbing a bite to eat.

None of the Young Avengers knew that Jason was gone for a short couple of days. Well, some of them noticed as he has been receiving calls from a few thought the day. Mainly ones from Rei, Liane, Rochelle, Ji-Hoon, Lydia and even Wanda. Hank commented how he was still amazed he hasn't lost his head yet.

"Who said I haven't?" Jason joked with a small chuckle.

"Who's watching them?" He asked in returning smiling.

"Elizabeth, Nat and Bruce. I hope."

"Oh dear god. Now, I gotta know, who's the hardest to watch over?"

"Depends on the day. Rei is the easiest at most, Rochelle is rather shy and hangs out with her friends..but Liane.."

"Felton's what? Oh. You can't lie to me, and not say Rei Stark doesn't turn your gears one bit."

"Rei does make me question my life choices, but I love him to death. Felton, she is a handful and a total bitch at times. It's why I always hand her off to Hill to taken care of. I need my silence."

That caused Hank to snort and laugh. He knew the man was too polite to say anything to harsh per say, not knowing who's around to hear him but if possible he will let a rip.

"Now that's the Jason I know, call it how it is!" He shouted as he tossed a chip into his mouth, "Half of them ain't even your kids."

The blonde smirked nodding, knowing the grey man's words to be truth. There are good couple of them aren't his legally or even raised them from childhood, but a part of him does care. Even if he wants to shut up half the time.

Hell, even the ants joined in on the fun. They are 247 of them after all, the ants were bound to make their appearance in carrying items around and or, helping them with alerting any incoming news on the heist they were waiting to happen.

--------

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

Later on, that very night they went to the basement as they turned on the lights to reveal a high tech level of security cameras, microphones and chairs laying around. It was linked up to whatever humanity possible can find, in this case, the ants.

They watched Scott break into his house, as Hank seemed impressed by his work giving Jason a couple of approved nods, as they kept rolling the tape. The handy work, the levels of patience and precision Scott Lang had was amazing. His quick thinking and ways he moved around the area at quick speed was something he could only imagine to do when he was back in the 40s. Hank used to think and move that fast in the late 80s. More or less.

Without a better matter of minutes he took the suit and ran. They spend the better part of the next day, watching Scott and see what he would do.

That he was expandable. And that he was. Jason chocked out a laugh at how freaked out he was as Hank talked into the coms. Sadly of course, the moment he returned the suit, he was caught red handed by the cops.

It was Hope's doing. She didn't know much about the man or the fact that he had a track record he was trying to maintain. Which led Hank to toss a pair of suits over to Jason, telling him it's time to lawyer up, as the man rolled his eyes at his friend.

Once they were in the prison, Scott Lang was brought into a room confused more the most part, not understanding who they were. He didn't know about the fact that he had a lawyer watching after him. They told him second chances don't always come easily, especially for men like him, next time he gets one, he should take a closer look onto what it is. And he's smart enough, he will listen to them.

Thankfully he did, as Hank ordered the ants to get Scott escape the jail cell and be brought home that night. However the man got dizzy and past out, resulting him to be knocked out cold in one the guest bedrooms of the house.

Hank's house, since he had more tech and landscape to work around than Jason did. As they waited for him to wake up, the blonde went out grab some more supplies and food. He was hungry.

When he returned home with the items needed, entering quietly through the front door he heard it. Hope was here. He should've known she would've made an appearance at some point.

"Please tell me you didn't call JJ." She said looking at her father with her arms crossed.

"I didn't call JJ." Her father responded with a sigh, trying to enjoy his tea.

"He is busy right now."

"I didn't call him."

She pointed to the brown leather jacket that was on the chair beside her. The one she gave the blonde years ago for a birthday present when she was in high school. Her father said he was borrowing it from the man's closet when he went to check on his home.

"You liar. Like always. Just say that you did." Hope remarked.

Hank groaned, "I emailed him."

"You tipped him. Dragging his ass here, for what? I can handle the mission myself!"

"No, you can't! He needed one-"

"You never listen to me!"

"Hope!"

She looked over her shoulder at face the voice who called out her name like an old memory. Only to find her uncle standing there with a stern look on his face, his usual cheeky grin was exchanged for a pair of lined smile and frustrated eyes that glared into her soul. He made her feel like a child again, getting in trouble for yelling at her father or running away from school grounds to play with her friends.

She looked down, feeling less than, muttering a soft 'sorry' in his direction as he simply nodded. He shook his head and sighed at his niece. He hated seeing them fight, he knew they had their reasons but she walked away a long time ago, just to prove a point to her father that she was worth it. And she already was.

"I didn't know..I uh, would've liked a heads up that you were coming..." She admitted for being silent for a moment.

He placed the bag of groceries on the table as he gave her a small half smile, "I know..but I knew you would've said otherwise and convince me to stay home."

"You don't have to be here. I can handle this."

"I know. But I'm here now, it's not like I'm going to waste a long drive just to be stuck at home listening to ABBA on the radio."

"Still. You should've-"

"Hope. Just don't. What's done is done. I came at my own risk and I won't be staying long, just to make sure a few things are in check."

"..I uh, I missed you."

"I did too."

She pulled her arms out to be taking in by his embrace. The warmth of his hugs always felt like a nice blanket as he wrapped her arms around him and kissed her forehead. She rested her head against his shoulder having another moment of silence to relax, sending a small glare to her father. She chuckled hearing her uncle brought her favorite ice cream from Basin Robins to help ease the tension, causing a tiny grunt from Hank. Her uncle smirked and told her to get Scott as she pulled away with a small smile.

When Hope walked out, he turned around to see his old friend sending daggers swords him. Jason just shrugged, "What?"

"You can't win her over with ice cream and hugs." He remarked.

"Yes I can. That's my job as the uncle. Make you look bad, so you want to work harder for her affection."

"That's not how it's supposed to work."

"That's exactly how it's supposed to work."

Soon enough, Scott and Hope joined them in the dinning room, as they talked trying to explain the situation to the confused brunette. Hope and Hank bricked as they did, as Jason tried to defuse the issue at hand introducing the trio. Scott listened along, trying to piece together everything they said, hearing how they were impressed with his work as well. He was offered some sugar, watching the ants push it around.

"H-how do you make them do that?" Scott asked pointing to the said ants, watching one climb onto Jason's finger with ease.

"Ants can lift objects 50 times their size. They can build farms. Corporate with each other." Hank explained.

"Right. But how do you make them do that?"

"I used electromagnetic waves to stimulate their factor's nerves center using a device. I speak to the Ants. I can go anywhere, see everything and hear everything."

"And still know absolutely nothing. I'm late for a meeting." Hope injects with a clear tone, pressing a kiss to her uncles cheek and a nod to her father.

"Be safe!" Jason calls out with a half smile, sipping his tea.

"Always am!"

With that she walks out. Scott raised an hand asking who the hell they are, what the hell is going on and if he could back to jail. Jason rolled his eyes telling both men to follow him.

They walked and talked heading down to the basement to reveal a small headquarters as Scott looked around in awe. Hank explained the suit and his role in this as Jason finished setting up a few things adding in a jab or two as he went along.

"Pym tech? SHIELD?" Scott said muttering under his breathe as he followed their voices.

"Darren Cross had heard rumors around the Pym Particles. Something that both companies tried to keep under lock and key, with only a few knowing it existed." Jason explained.

"And he became obsessed with recreating my formula." Hank continued to explain holding a vial of Pym particles, "But I wouldn't help. So he partially voted me out of my own company. Hope was chairmen of the board, so that helped. But she came back to me when she saw how close he was with his process. But without a suit, the brain isn't protected."

"Causing a fiery sensational effect that can make the brain unstable. And Cross hasn't realized that part yet. So with our luck, he'll die."

"Be nice, JJ. Cross isn't the most stable guy to begin with."

Scott listen then asked, "So what do you want from me?"

Both men exchange a look as Hank walked over to Scott Lang and told him he believed in second chances for everyone. A redemption. Saying that if he does that, he can start a new path and get some insight wiped off his records. Scott looked pleased declaring that he will go along with the plan of theirs. Within a couple of hours, they all got to work.

Scott began to start training how to use the suit, understanding the plan and communicating with the idea on how to get into the building. He got learn about the concept of the ants and their behavior in the process of the world. Hope and Jason offered to teach Scott some fighting techniques to help him later on. Hope smirked getting a good swing at Scott punching him hard enough he fell backwards, as Jason snorted at their dynamic play between the tackles to the ground.

———-

—————

It got to a certain point where Scott was given the opportunity to learn how to control the ants. Hank acted as director for him, telling him to focus having faith that he can do it. Scott tried but it didn’t work. Hope groan annoyed telling him how he needed to commit to communicating with them, he has to mean it. The father daughter duo, once again began to argue over the subject. Jason reminded them on how the focus should be on helping Scott with the trails.

“Really? That’s where our focus should be?” Hope said, taking the device used for the ants and held it close to her ear controlling to do more than just add sugar to the tea. She caused to room to darken as the ants blocked out the lights, Hank caught her before she can act by further. Her voice broke as she muttered a few words at her father and sighed before exiting the room.

Hank knew he couldn’t do it without her. Since day one she has requested to be put in the suit, do the trails and get the mission accomplished herself, but her father refused every request she made. Jason knew the reason why. Scott noticed the problem being a father himself and went out to talk to her, hoping to knock some sense into Hope and have her see behind the act.

The two were alone in the house, standing in awkward silence as the moment of Hope’s departure replayed in their heads. Hank walked around the first floor, fumbling with a small piece of dice he found in the living room as Jason watched from the window the car sitting in the driveway with the two figures talking inside.

He broke the silence with a scoff, biting in the inside of his cheek as he said, “You have to tell her.”

“No.” He muttered in response, knowing exactly what he meant by those words.

“If you want her on your side, you have to break the ice here. She knows Janet didn’t die cause of some accident involving a plane. I know it’s painful for you, Hank, but she deserves to know.”

“Like you told Stark about his parents death.”

That silence Jason quicker than expected. He remembered how Howard and Maria died, when he was at his lowest moments during the holiday season. He told Tony what he knew and what he only could’ve revealed of that painful memory, going as far as to show him the photographs he dug up a few days later from news reports. Hank might’ve had a falling out with Howard but he was at the damn funeral for a short period of time before returning home.

Hank knew he hit a nerve and continued, “You couldn’t even wrap your head around fact that you lost them. Worse, telling a child their mother died and they never had the chance to say goodbye. I lost Janet that day because of my misfortunes during the mission.”

“I know, I heard the story. I can only imagine how you felt when it happened, when she shrunk down to that size..” Jason added trying to find his voice again.

“Please, don’t remind me, Jason, she went sub-atomic...”

“And you tried to get her back by studying for weeks on an answer to get her back”

“I made a mistake letting her come with me..I was stupid enough to let that happen..you know how hard it is for me just to relive that experience again…Hope might hate me when she finds out..”

“I know, she might but she will forgive you…Hank..you and I have made a lot mistakes in the past 3 decades. We made decisions that we aren’t proud of..thinking we are protecting them from harm..”

“That’s the whole point! That’s our job, to keep them safe and not be heartbroken by the truth. You only gave Stark the benefit of the doubt about his parents death and how it affected the outcome, you said he hated the world for it..I can’t tell her..we have secrets for a reason..”

“Yeah well, Tony could care less about his father…How about you only tell her what you can? When the time comes where she asks for more, you go into more detail about what happened. You are driving her away now…I know you hate the looks she gives you. You said it yourself..”

There was an unspoken number of casualties among those accidents that occurred during the death of their loved ones. Only so much information, they kept closed to their chest to prevent others suffering in those moments. The amount of consequences to their loved ones being gone felt like a huge blow to the head and stuffed around in secret.

Hank knew that, especially with the fact that his very friend lost more than he can chew.

He felt sorry for bringing it up, but it just didn’t occur to him the words would impact that hard. Hell, the memories of his wife were still so fresh in his brain like it was yesterday.

Hank ran a couple of fingers cross his hair muttering, “Sorry for bringing that up. It’s just…”

“I know..I know. But you do need to let her know what happened that day.” Jason responded taking a breath to regain himself.

That was when Hope and Scott returned from the car, about to say something but was cut off by Hank’s statement. He had a hand against the fireplace beforehand turning around to face the two of them, to face his daughter with the truthful remarks she desires to know. He slowly but surely explained what he could to his daughter onto what happened to her mother as her voice broke mumbling a few questions.

He did in best to answer them. It hurt to talk about it, as it felt like he was reliving the same day all over again. She wanted to know more but her thoughts didn’t seem to allow her to think straight as she teared up even more. Hank just told her in the end he lost her mother, he didn’t mean to lose his daughter too.

Scott ruined the moment with a quippy response that caused Jason to roll his eyes, telling him to go make some tea. Afterwards the four of them got back to work on training Scott and working with the plans they had in motion.

———-

At some point, Jason went upstairs to get something to eat and suddenly got another set of calls. He sighed deeply knowing they must've been from Liane or Rei, he ignored knowing it was probably something they could've handle themselves. They had to learn how to get along and figure out solutions to things without an actual adult fixing it entirely for them.

With a deep sigh he answered, “Hello?”

“Jason! Aha we might got an issue at the compound—dude shut up!” Said the voice that clearly belonged to Liane.

“Okay, who burnt the toaster again? Wait why are you at The Compound anyway? Your supposed to be at The Tower..”

“The adults went out on a small scale meeting, so we were left alone. Long story short, we had an incident at The Tower and decided to visit The Compound for breakfast instead—Ughhh Rei be quiet! Rick calm it’s gonna be fine—I was saying, we came here and Sam made us breakfast…and then..”

“Then what? Liane spit it out or put Rei on the phone.”

“Then we saw an issue and Sam told us to stay inside.”

Just as Liane and Rei’s voices were heard, along with the other members in the background, Jason was called downstairs by Hank to check on something. And let’s just say, he wanted to punch the older man for his actions. From the panels on the screen, shots of Scott fighting The Falcon to get inside Avengers Compound. Hope half smiled, annoyed and confused by Scott’s actions.

It was honestly hilarious yet stressful.

He put the phone call on mute as he whispered, “Hank, what the hell?! You said that the item you were looking for was at an old building, not Avengers Compound!”

“I didn’t know that it was remodeled after all this time! You could’ve said something.” Hank remarked looking up at the blonde from his seat.

“You weren’t speaking of the specifics either! Oh god..Scott better get out of there.”

“He’ll be fine. Besides he’s fighting an Avenger, this can be taken as part of his training for the next assignment. What are you worried about?”

“Half of the other avengers are inside the building now and they’re a little terrified.”

Hope said an eyebrow confused onto what her uncle meant until she heard the voices over the phone and almost immediately laughed at the sound.

She couldn’t make out the voices very well but one caught her ears as she asked, “Is that Felton? Since when is she freaked out over something like this, isn’t she an Avenger?”

Jason just shrugged at this point and responded, “It’s a great mystery to all of this. And yes that was her. I can already picture Rei’s annoyed expressions. Whatever we do, we just have to get Scott out there and fast.”

“Or they might call the other heroes for assistance. Damn it.”

“Days like this, I wish my retirement plan was completely different.”

“You can always come stay with me instead. Wait, I’m still in the Will right?”

He winked at her meaning a clear ‘yes you are, honey.’ As they both returned their focus back onto the screen watching Hank navigate Scott across the field to fight Falcon, suddenly they lost visual contact with him as the ants couldn’t see what was happening inside. It went silent as the only sound came from the cell phone in Jason’s hand.

He raised the phone up his ear to respond, “Whatever happens stay instead. I’ll be there in a couple of hours to check up on—”

“About time you picked up the damn phone!” Yelled the voice that belonged to his first godson.

“Rei?! What happened to Liane?”

“I took it off her hands, she went to help calm Rick and the others down or whatever. I really don’t care. Do I have permission to take her down Felton and shut off the systems?”

“Permission granted—wait, hold off on shutting down the systems for a few minutes and then reboot The Compound.”

“Does that mean I’m in charge of everything?”

“Does it mean the house won’t be fire when I come over to check on you guys?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then you’re in charge. And please get a hold of an adult!”

The phone called ended with Rei’s voice being heard over the speaker as you can imagine the others not sounding too pleased about the news. Jason just smirked already picturing their faces as he watched the panels of Scott escaping and Falcon on the floor. Him and Hank fist bump at the process of the mission turning out decently well.

He knew Hank was gonna have a talk with Scott on his actions and how he handled it, but Jason knew based on the files that Scott must’ve gotten the item needed for the job.

And he was right.

Hope was very impressed with what he did as her father sighed in relief at the assignment being completed. Scott Lang had skills and knowledge to be used on a battlefield one day, possibly even a hero. The four of them talked about upcoming events that were set in motion as Jason texted his nephew for updates on the situation from earlier as it seemed like things have calmed down over there.

He will need to drive over there to check up on them later.

As of now, all he knew is that the four of them were headed into a very dangerous environment within the incoming hours. Especially after Darren Cross’s appearance at the household, assuming he was just speaking with Hank Pym, as the others were silently standing in the kitchen.

The next couple of hours were gonna be a wild ride.

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s what I got! Thanks for reading I hope you liked it. 📺

Let me know what you think in the comments below 👇

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[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info and lyrics for the songs under the cut!

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

If you’d like to send in interpretations or propaganda for a specific song you can send them to my inbox! All interpretations are welcome and let’s be open and kind in response to all interpretations <3

🫶🫶🫶

Now That We Don't Talk lyrics

You went to a party, I heard from everybody

You part the crowd like the Red Sea, don't even get me started

Did you get anxious though, on the way home?

I guess I'll never, ever know

Now that we don't talk

You grew your hair long, you got new icons

And from the outside, it looks like you're trying lives on

I miss the old ways, you didn't have to change

But I guess I don't have a say

Now that we don't talk

I called my mom, she said that it was for the best

Remind myself the more I gave, you'd want me less

I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost

And what it cost

Now that we don't talk

What do you tell your friends we

Shared dinners, long weekends with?

Truth is, I can't pretend it's

Platonic, it's just ended, so

I called my mom, she said to get it off my chest (Off my chest)

Remind myself the way you faded till I left (Till I left)

I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost (What I lost)

And what it cost

Now that we don't talk

I don't have to pretend I like acid rock

Or that I'd like to be on a mega-yacht

With important men who think important thoughts

Guess maybe I am better off

Now that we don't talk

And the only way back to my dignity

Was to turn into a shrouded mystery

Just like I had been when you were chasing me

Guess this is how it has to be

Now that we don't talk

🫶🫶🫶

Style lyrics

Midnight

You come and pick me up, no headlights

Long drive

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Fade into view, oh

It's been a while since I have even heard from you (Heard from you)

I should just tell you to leave, 'cause I

Know exactly where it leads, but I

Watch us go 'round and 'round each time

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style

We never go out of style

You got that long hair slicked back, white t-shirt

And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style

We never go out of style

So it goes

He can't keep his wild eyes on the road

Takes me home

Lights are off, he's takin' off his coat, mmm, yeah

I say, "I heard, oh

That you've been out and about with some other girl

Some other girl"

He says, "What you heard is true, but I

Can't stop thinking 'bout you and I"

I said, "I've been there too a few times"

'Cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style

We never go out of style

You got that long hair slicked back, white t-shirt

And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt (A tight little skirt)

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style (We never go, we never go)

We never go out of style

Take me home

Just take me home

Yeah, just take me home, oh (Out of style)

'Cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

'Cause we never go out of style

We never go out of style