#just like how her military career was just being an assistant

[vitos-ordination-song]

It feels like LOGH is rubbing my nose in the fact that it won’t let Frederica do anything

[bangtanhoneys]

The Grammy's - Part Two

Part 1 l Part 3

The GRAMMY’s.

The Grammy Awards are awards presented by the Recording Academy of the United States to recognise “outstanding” achievements in the music industry…if you believed what you read on Wikipedia and if you didn’t see the artists who had brought exceptional change to the music industry like Lana Del Ray, Ariana Grande, Nicki Minaj, Katy Perry and even Diana Ross.

BTS were included in that list of people who had changed the music industry, had made Billboard change their rules every time they brought out a new single or album, had streaming numbers no one else had and yet for all the Grammy nominations, performances and making an appearance, there was no Grammy. 

Until they had received a notification from Bang-PD to their phones, though five of those messages had been delayed in getting to their recipients. 

Grammy Nominations have come through - Grace has got 3. 

7 Rings - Record of the Year

In My Head - Album of the Year

7 Rings - Best Pop Solo Performance. 

Each had a different reaction to the news, which was understandable. At first, there was elation over the fact that at least one of them got a Grammy nod, second was amazement that she had scored three big major categories and then worry mixed in with disappointment. Why hadn’t they had the nomination? Whether solo or as a group, the Grammy’s had left a bitter taste in their mouths. 

Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin knew Grace would flat-out refuse to perform or even go to the awards. They knew her back to front - her loyalty stood with the group and if they weren’t getting a nomination, then neither would she. 

However, this was a defining moment in her career, their careers, their history and for the country. 

And for those who knew what kind of start Grace had, this would be the perfect way to celebrate that career. 

She started as an admin assistant, straight out of school and into employment with Big Hit Entertainment who then saw that she could do ballet dancing, and ballroom dancing, who could sing though that skill was untouched, spoke perfect English, could speak German as well and had all the charm of an idol.

Yet there was no place for her. 

Everyone knew Bang PD wanted a hip-hop group and that’s what he started with in Namjoon, then Yoongi and Hobi. Grace was added as a backup for the ability to sing their ad-libs and rap alongside them without any problem. Then along came Seokjin & Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin and suddenly they were an idol group. 

A woman shouldn’t be doing hip-hop with a boy group and so she had signed a two album contract which had left her on tenterhooks as to whether all the skills she had gained while working with Bangtan Sonyeondan would now be worthless. But along came Skool Luv Affair and Dark & Wild and everything fell into place. 

Now they couldn’t see the group without their eldest member, the only female, their noona. The woman who protected them in every sense of the word and who had always been there for their solo projects and careers. Her own started very late after their military careers had started so she had full reign of being the BTS representative. 

If her upcoming tour was a testament to how well her solo career had taken off, then a Grammy nomination would just solidify that. 

Updates were coming in every day and then it was the date of the Grammy Awards themselves. Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon & Yoongi were given special permission for absence of leave for two days so Seokjin planned a private viewing party just for the boys, their close friends who knew Grace as well and some of their team. 

Seokjin had been up till late preparing snacks and food as the Grammy’s would start at 10am their time. There was plenty of alcohol covering his kitchen counter and there was food everywhere when Hobi had arrived first.

“Hyung, have you been stress cooking again?” 

Seokjin paused where he was putting out plates and cups, chilling the expensive alcohol that had been gifted to him by someone and making sure there was enough kimchi in the container. Multitasking at its finest. 

“Maybe? I can’t help it. I’m nervous, more for Grace than anyone else.”

Hobi sighed, having had the same conversation with every other member of the team and Grace herself. She had massive reservations about attending and performing, believing it all to be a big farce so they could have big viewing numbers. 

“I know, but noona will be fine. She’s a lot stronger than us and a loss at the Grammy’s won’t affect her like it did us. As she said, as long as her performance is killer, who cares.”

Nothing more could be said as the front door opened and the rest of his boys poured through, Jungkook first then the rest following with bags of more food and alcohol. 

“How drunk are you all getting?” Hobi laughed, receiving hugs and pats on the back as he looked at the various sized bags that were being dumped in the kitchen.

“It would have been more but Yoongi-hyung stopped us,” Taehyung shrugged as he dropped his bag and then lifted his arm, flexing it to show off his muscles which caused Jimin to roll his eyes and push at him. “We’ve all got muscles. It hasn’t been that long since Hobi-hyung has seen us.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Yoongi and Namjoon asked Seokjin at the same time, causing the two to pause, look at each other then back at their hyung. 

Jungkook, while looking every inch the military man he had become, had wrapped his arms around Seokjin and pushed his face into his back.

“Nervous,” Seokjin admitted while patting Jungkook’s hands. “I’m more nervous for her than about the whole thing. But I know she can handle it. It’s just a big thing.”

“For everyone,” Namjoon smiled slightly and reached over to give Seokjin’s shoulder a squeeze, causing the man to squawk at how strong that grip had become. “Ah, sorry hyung.”

“Come on, let’s get the TV sorted before everyone else comes. And start cracking the bottles open hyung, let the champagne breathe before we get started,” Yoongi grinned as he took control of the situation, shooing people to start doing jobs.

Even though it was early in the morning and most people had been up all night working, everyone was in bright spirits as the coffee churned. The living room was filled with about 20 people, some on the couch, some on the floor, some on chairs they had brought over. Jungkook had even stolen the spare mattress in the other room and had laid it out on the floor for some.

BTS, however, had taken control of the couch. 

They barely listened to the people talking on the screen as they all settled down with their various glasses of drink though Seokjin, Hobi and Namjoon had stuck to iced coffee for now. They wanted to be sober enough to get to her performance before drinking any type of alcohol.

Their phones went off at the same time.

“Oh my god, look at her!”

Taehyung lifted his phone up and began showing it around to the others. Sejin had sent a picture of Grace between her parents, dressed in her Elie Saab dress and made up to the nines as her father stood in a suit to her left and her mother stood to her right in a gold dress. They all matched perfectly to what Grace was wearing. 

Messages quickly flew out of good luck, hope it all goes well, kill the stage, etc. None were read by Grace but Sejin sent a thumbs up emoji back with a winky face. 

There was silence in the room as they watched the red carpet, pointing out the various celebrities they knew of or had met. They had immediately spotted Liam McEwan, one of the reporters who they actually liked. And then they saw Bang PD step out of the car with Grace’s parents, a member of staff leading them past the red carpet and inside.

“Here we go,” Seokjin muttered as Namjoon’s hand squeezed his shoulder again, a bit more gently this time. 

The noise from the crowd was instantaneous. 

Hands reached forward for the remote control to turn down the volume a bit as screams were heard, many heads turned as the camera switched to Liam McEwan. “Everybody, Grace Chu from BTS has arrived! The queen is here.”

The boys held their breath until the camera caught up with where it was meant to be, showing Grace in front of the Grammy backdrop, cameras flashing in her eyes as she smiled for the photographers. The dress sparkled each time the camera flashed and then she was moved along, straight towards Liam. 

“Seee! Told you she could do it,” Yoongi said as he raised his glass of whiskey, not at all a bit tipsy as Jungkook reached over and filled it up for him. When did he get started on that?

“She hasn’t even gotten inside yet hyung,” Jimin laughed, already opening another bottle of champagne as if Grace had already won her three awards and had been crowned Queen of Korea. 

Seokjin and Namjoon as well as Hobi, the only three who had been determined not to drink until the end, slowly sipped on their iced coffee and laughed as they watched an excited maknae open Taehyung’s bottle of wine for him. 

“But she’s won everyone over! I mean, that dress is amazing on her,” Taehyung said as he stood, pushing over Jimin who spilled himself into Hobi’s lap. Obviously, a career in the military had done nothing to dampen their enthusiasm. 

Taehyung stood next to the large TV screen, pointing at various parts of her dress. “I mean, it’s pretty low. I wonder who signed that off but either way, she looks amazing. And look! Cleavage! No one has seen noona with cleavage yet.”

Yoongi groaned, covering his eyes. “Don’t mention Grace and cleavage in the same sentence. I’m not drunk enough yet.”

Seokjin hid a grin behind his hand and tried not to chuckle, ignoring Hobi who was cackling into his back and Namjoon who stood ready to defend his noona’s honour until he was pulled back down. 

“What?” Taehyung asked, grinning. “Okay, okay. But this is history in the making here. She’s got everyone eating out of her hand already and she’s not even inside yet. Is that Taylor Swift she’s saying hello to? Oh, it's Nicki Minaj. Ah, another collab being set up there.”

“Tae,” Seokjin started and threw a napkin at him. “Sit down before your eyes turn into the same shape as the TV. You’re blocking the view as well.”

There were plenty of voices who agreed with him as Tae pouted and sat back down, ignoring the maknae line’s giggles. 

The next time they saw Grace was sitting with her parents in the main room, taking a glass of water and gulping it down before Sejin and the Grammy team led her away. 

“Oh this is it,” Jungkook whispered as he somehow managed to squeeze in next to Seokjin. If there were two people in the room who were close to Grace and could feel her nerves from here, it would be them. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to 5-time Grammy nominated member of BTS, Grace Chu,” the loud announcement came.

“Okay. This is it,” Namjoon said as he went into leader mode. “Everyone shut up and let’s enjoy it.” Nothing more needed to be said as everyone went into quiet mode, 20 sets of eyes on the TV that showed a black curtain being lifted as the opening to the Sound of Music’s ‘Favourite Things’ was being played by a small orchestra, dressed in black dinner suits and dresses.

Jungkook reached over and held onto Seokjin’s hand tight.

Each light in the middle came on to show her standing there, in her blazer dress that was very short but presentable and caused some uproar from the boys the moment they saw it but a quick look from Namjoon and they settled again. 

Her eyes met the camera as it slowly zoomed in and she gave a small smile as she started to sing, four female dancers walking on stage to meet her dressed in white suits. 

“My wrist, stop watchin’, my neck is flossy,” Grace and Jungkook sang at the same time, though he did it under his breath as he watched the choreography on the TV. By the time the chorus came, the four female dancers spread further apart to allow the seven male dancers to come alongside though they were dressed in matching black suits.

“Wearing a ring, but ain’t gon’ be no Mrs,” Grace sang as she flashed her left hand, wiggling slightly causing Jimin and Taehyung to giggle.

There were more outrage noises when it came to the second pre-chorus, the female dancers were back as the lyrics “my smile is beamin’, my skin is gleamin’” were sung but instead of Grace doing the usual choreography that the boys were used to, it had been changed for American tv.

All five women turned and leaned forward, resting heads on backsides as Grace shifted hands to turn her head towards the camera as she sang the rest of the lyrics, “the way it shine, I know you’ve seen it” as her hand went down the thigh of the dancer who she was resting on. 

“I bought a crib just for the closet,” Grace sang as she rightened herself, not paying attention to the crowd’s delighted noises or what her parents were going to think. Right now, it was a cause of getting through this song to get to the rap part and then done.

All dancers were back for the chorus and Yoongi, Hobi and Namjoon shifted towards the edge of the seat. They had seen the many comments around this song and whether Grace could perform the rap part live, since it was so fat, not realising she covered their rap parts with ease when they needed her to. 

“When you see them racks, they stacked up like my ass yeah,” she sang/rapped, turning her body a little to camera to show her hand grabbing a chunk of her backside to match the lyrics. She then fully turned to the camera, the dancers in formation on either side of her as she continued the verse.

“Shoot, go from the store to the booth. Make it all back in one loop, gimmie the loot,” she continued as she danced her way through the verse without stopping to take a breath.

In complete jubilation, every single person in Seokjin’s living room sang along with her.

“Nevermind I got the juice. Nothing but net when we shoot. Look at my neck, look at my jet!”

“Ain’t got enough money to pay me respect. Ain’t no budget when I’m on the set If I like it, then that’s what I get,” Grace continued from where they left off singing. 

The dancers all left the stage as the orchestra took over the last chorus, letting the song play out once Grace stopped singing. The audience stood, clapping and cheering for her and even though the camera’s didn’t show it, she did a full bow to the crowd.

“Okay, that was amazing!” 

The alcohol was flowing now the worst of the nerves were over with and Seokjin happily accepted the glass of wine, Namjoon a whiskey from Yoongi and Hobi a washed down glass of white wine. All seven boys, their close friends and team lifted their glasses in cheers.

“Namjoon, you do it,” Yoongi said as everyone looked to Seokjin to lead the toast.

“Oh right,” their leader said as he stood, making his way to stand next to the TV where the awards were flowing.

“When I first met noona, I was a shy teenager who had no clue, probably like many of us. She didn’t care that I was into hip hop, that I had big dreams and that I wanted to be something. All she cared about was Namjoon - what did he want? And I never knew the answer to that question until the day she and I were out buying plants,” Namjoon paused then laughed when he realised he was getting teary as was the rest of the boys in front of him. 

“She asked what I wanted? And I picked up this plant pot because it was cute. And I realised there and then, that all noona wanted from me was to be happy and if a plant pot made me happy because it was cute, then that’s what she was going to get for me. Seeing her come from someone who didn’t know their place in the world to now seeing her up there on the Grammy stage, I’m very thankful that I have Grace Chu in my life. So fuck the Grammy’s, who gives a shit. Grace Chu just made history!”

Everyone’s glasses went up with cheers. “To Grace Chu!” they all said then downed their alcohol in one go, only for glasses to be filled again just as quickly.

There was complete and utter silence when she didn’t win Best Pop Solo Performance, though Jungkook could see the storm brewing over his leader’s head. “Noona isn’t bothered,” he muttered as he pointed to her on the screen as she laughed and talked to her parents, completely unbothered by the fact she didn’t win. 

It turned out to be a very long morning as each award came and went. 

“The nominees for Record of the Year are,” that sentence interrupted all the conversations in the room, heads turning on a swivel to stare at the screen. 

BTS turned to look at each other and as if they had the same thought, they each reached over to clasp hands. Namjoon closed his eyes, let out a breath and prayed.

“And the winner is,” there was a giant pause and Grace on the screen turned to her mother to say something before the answer was revealed:  “7 Rings - Grace Chu.”

There was complete and utter pandemonium in Seokjin’s living room. Namjoon had fallen to the floor on his knees, Jungkook on his back. Taehyung and Jimin were hugging each other, Hobi stared at the screen in utter confusion and Yoongi reached over to wrap an arm around Seokjin’s shoulders.

“She did it, hyung. She actually did it.”

They missed most of her speech, only calming down enough to hear the last part of it. 

“Holy shit,” Namjoon muttered as he wiped a hand down his face and stayed where he was. Jungkook grabbed hold of his shoulders and whispered hurriedly at him. “Hyung, hyung, look.”

On screen, Chris Martin from Coldplay was walking across the stage.

“No way,” Seokjin whispered as Yoongi grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing tight. If there was anyone who was important to the couple and to the rest of the band, it would be Chris. The fact he was there to present the biggest award of the night was not missed by anyone.

“The winner for Album of the Year,” Chris paused and turned to look at Grace. “In My Head" by Grace Chu, produced by Bang PD & PDogg from Big Hit Entertainment. Congratulations.”

There was silence for a moment and then a multitude of noise. Cheers, screams, crying, hooting, laughter and some kind of noise Taehyung had produced at the news. Each man had a different reaction as they watched Grace stand and walk up to the stage, greeting Chris the traditional way before hugging him. 

They went silent again as Grace started her speech, each of them holding their breath as they were standing. It wasn’t missed that she had said her boys, ARMY and her man separately and for her to acknowledge Seokjin like that on American TV was another big moment.  

Jimin’s phone rang just as Grace walked off stage and he quickly pulled it out, seeing Sejin’s name on the screen.

“Ah Sejin-hyung,” Jimin said while he put the voice call on speakerphone so they could hear their old manager. 

“Grace is just coming backstage now so I’ve got you on speakerphone, one moment.” They could hear the tears in his voice over the noise in the background. “Grace, the boys are on the phone.”

They were all screaming their congratulations on the line and suddenly they heard Bang-PD on the line.

“Boys,” he started crying again. “I’m so proud of you all. So proud. I’m letting Grace have a moment with her parents but I just wanted to say I’m very proud of you all. Thank you.”

It was hard to even get their words out but there were promises for a celebration dinner when they got back and Grace would speak to them later once she got back to her hotel. 

“She did it,” Namjoon whispered as he saw the notifications on his phone on various media outlets across South Korea and America reporting on Grace winning her two Grammys. CL, IU, TXT and others were posting on their social media, tagging BTS and Grace in their posts. Even Billboard had put up a post.

“She did it,” Namjoon repeated as he rested a hand on Seokjin’s back and an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. Hobi joined them at Jungkook’s side, pulling Jimin and Taehyung in and Yoongi joined them by wrapping an arm around Taehyung and Seokjin. 

Grace would return back to Korea, to them, as a twice Grammy awarded artist. And no one would be able to say that Korea’s Noona hadn’t broken the barrier that they all needed to be broken and no one could say that they as a group and individually weren’t leading the way for other Korean idols and groups. 

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 12

You’re a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, everyone. It has been a rough go of things for me of late, and I haven't been up to writing. Still on the fence for this chapter, but needed to get it out of the way. Slightly shorter chapter.

2.8K Word Count

Ch 12: Whisper on a Scream, Doesn't Change a Thing

The mornings meetings went off without any snags. What Jim had told you earlier this morning was right, that they had verified that Steve was planning on doing something at one of the three appearances today.  As suspected, Scarlett made it clear she wanted you present with her at all three. You were currently driving one of the blacked out Cadillacs in a procession that even the president would be envious of. Jim was in the vehicle behind you, your boss in front, and the team that had been assigned to driving duties in matching vehicles surrounding you. All told, there was 8 SUVs in this protective detail, as well as a team of people at each interview location. Scarlett was in the rear of your vehicle, a glass barrier between you both. 

You arrived at the first location, her first interview with a morning show. Once you pulled up to the curb, you were quickly assessing the surroundings from inside the vehicle. You noticed a small group of people at the end of the street, and directed some of the team to keep a closer eye on them. Nothing being out of the ordinary, you got out of the vehicle, and walked over to the side Scarlett had been directed to get out of. The plan for today being that she would alternate between drivers. You first, Paul second and Jim last. The cars would also shuffle position, so it would be harder to keep track of her since the vehicles would be the most vulnerable. 

It was still insane to you that an A-List celebrity required this much security, but you also didn’t want someone to be subjected to what Waters was capable of like you had been.  You looked around once more, making sure nothing had changed, and then opened the door. She shuffled her way out, and you had to admit, her outfit for today was going to drive you absolutely up the wall. She was wearing a white top with a mesh lower corset, and form fitting black slacks, with some taller black heels. She smirked as she walked past you, noticing how your eyebrows moved behind your glasses. You rolled your eyes at her reaction, following close behind her, placing your hand on the small of her back and guiding her through the door to backstage. 

“So serious, Y/N.” She smiled as the door shut behind you. You smiled, but didn’t say a word. The both of you went through the check in process backstage, met with the host and then followed the assistant back to the green room. 

“Let me check the room first, Ms. Johansson.” You gently pull her back from the room, before opening the door yourself and stepping into the room first, checking in any places someone could be hiding. Once satisfied, you waved the woman into the room. 

“What have I told you about calling me by my last name?” She asked, stepping past you and throwing herself down onto the sofa. You raised your eyebrow and smirked, before turning and stepping outside to the hallway. Your team had two people at each end of the hallway, and another two people across the hall from you. Knowing that there was that much outside of the green room, you stepped back in, closing the door.

You shifted to one of the corners, standing and watching her scroll through her phone, presumably going over the questions for today’s interviews. “You know, you don’t have to lurk in the corner like a creep, you can come sit down.” She looked at you over her phone, smiling at your stern expression. You didn’t make a move to sit down, so she stood and came over to you. “Y/N, seriously. You can sit. Please. I’m not going to do this all day with you lurking. It makes my anxiety worse.” 

At this, you give in, not wanting her nerves to be any worse than they may already be. You circle around the sofa and sit yourself down, Scarlett joining you on the other side of the sofa. Knowing that there was still almost an hour before the interview, you felt like there was going to be some awkward silence ahead. You weren’t much for talking while on duty. 

“It’s going to be miserable all day if you just sit in silence, Y/N.” She looks over at you, her arm perched on the edge of the sofa. “We’re gonna be back here for a bit.”

“I know.” You responded, keeping a neutral expression, staring straight forward to the pictures hanging on the wall in front of you. 

“You know what, Y/N? That it’s going to be miserable or that we’ll be back here a while?”

“Both.” You see the blonde drop her head slightly at the comment, her demeanor shifting slightly. 

“Not the being around you part, Scarlett.” You recover, looking down at the gloved hands crossed in your lap. 

“What’s with the get up today? You trying to turn a look, or what?” She chuckles, slapping your shoulder lightly. The sudden shift causes you to wince slightly, but the actress misses this, to which you’re thankful. 

“No, I’m not. I just need to be in clothes I can work in.”

“You make it seem like we’re going to be involved in a tactical altercation, Y/N. I don’t think we’ll be going to war.” She chuckled, smiling your way, but her smile dropped at the stony expression on yours. “Right, Y/N?”

“That depends, Scarlett. We don’t really know.” The look on her face made your stomach churn, you didn’t like her being this uncomfortable. But that’s why you're here. But the anxiousness that was creeping into her demeanor was unsettling, to say the least. “Do you need to go over any questions or anything, Scarlett?” You look at her, trying to break her mind free of whatever thought process she was having. She glanced at you, shooting a nervous smile back in your direction. 

“Sure. Here’s my phone, these are the questions they’re supposed to ask me.” She handed the device over to you, turning to face you more directly, so you followed suit, inwardly grimacing at the shift of pressure on your chest. You begin rattling questions off, mixing them up like you were in a normal conversation. As you asked the questions, you would tail off asking others questions not on the list just to get answers to your own questions. Once you had been questioning her for around half an hour, you finally handed her the device and asked if she felt good with the questions. “Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that.” She sends a small smile at you, which you return. You turn back in your spot, grimacing again at the shift. This time, the actress didn’t miss it. She reached out in your direction, grabbing onto your hand. You acted on instinct, pulling your hand away in pain. 

“Fuck!” You yelp, standing, and instantly regretting the decision to move so quickly. You go over to the bathroom in the far corner of the room, and lean yourself against the counter, taking deep breaths to get the pain to subside. 

“What happened, Y/N?” Scarlett followed you over to the bathroom, looking over your frame in concern. 

“Just a rough night, Scarlett. It’s nothing.” You evened your breath out, finally feeling some relief from the renewed throbbing in your chest and hand. 

“Seems like more than a rough night, Y/N.” She raised her eyebrow, causing your heart to flutter slightly at the sight of her before you. There was a sudden knock at the door, signaling that it was time for her to go on. “This will be continued, Y/N.” She turned, walking towards the door. You quickly stalked behind her, allowing your colleagues to flank her, while you watched the surroundings from behind. 

You stayed concealed backstage, but maintained an eye-line into the audience and the other wing of the stage. As the interview wore on, your could tell Scarlett was becoming more relaxed. This was a double edged sword, you wanted her to be confident, but she needed to keep her own guard up as well. Once the tv spot was finished, she said her goodbyes to the host and other guest stars, and turned back towards you, and you shuffled her off set. You offered her a reassuring smile, and made your way to the garage where all the vehicles were staged. You began walking her to the SUV that Paul was driving, and she turned to look at you. 

“I don’t want him driving me. I want you to drive me.” She whined, looking at you with the slightest puppy dog eyes she could muster. God, those eyes could melt the coldest of souls. You were already screwed, and you knew it. 

“We can’t, Scarlett. You need to go with someone different every time. It’s protocol.” You maintained a stoic expression, turning her back to Paul’s Escalade and pushing her towards it slightly. “I will be in the vehicle behind you. And I will let you out of the car at the next interview. Okay?” You look at her, issuing her another reassuring smile, before opening the door for her and ushering her inside. She nodded, but still maintained the pouty look on her face. Shutting the door, you walked back over to your SUV, hopping in and starting it up. Paul issued the all clear after your staff checked all the vehicles, and you began driving to the next studio. 

***

The next studio was more of the same, you would walk the set, your team was screening everyone that worked for the studio and the audience. You helped Scarlett run questions until the time for her to come on stage had come. This studio was much small than the last, which was a welcome break in the middle of the day, since it was easier to secure. You were virtually on stage with Scarlett for the interview, since the studio let you stay right by the last curtain behind set, and that was all of 5 or so feet away from her spot on set. You were surprised that the day had gone so smoothly up to this point, but didn’t dare to look into it too much, for fear of jinxing it and causing all hell to break loose. There was also the chance that they were just trying to get a rise out of everyone, to create a false alarm, so they could see what response there was. Honestly, you hoped it was neither. 

 You stood behind her, watching the interaction with the host, glancing out to the crowd every so often. Nothing was obvious as a threat, so you would return your gaze to Scarlett and the host, before scanning the intimate crowd once more. This process continued for the 30 or so minutes, allowing them to get all the press they wanted so they could clip and cut what they needed. Scarlett wrapped up her interview, and you shuffled her to the backstage green room, waiting for the landing area for the caravan to be cleared so you could journey to the furthest and last destination. 

“So, Y/N. I bet you think I’ve forgotten. What happened last night to make it so… rough?” Scarlett questioned, keeping her back to you as she poured herself a water from the pitcher in the green room. When she turned around, there was a piercing look on her face, the gaze seeming to cut right through you. 

“Scarlett, it’s really not anything you need to worry about.” Her gaze narrowed further at your lack of an answer.

“Y/N, that’s not an answer.”

“Seriously, Scarlett. It’s fine. I’m fine. Just a long night at the gym.” That answer seems to get her to back off, barely. She turns and sits herself on the arm chair closest to the door, staring directly at you. “Staring at me isn’t gonna change anything.” 

“Fine. I'll figure it out myself.” She huffs. You shake your head and laugh, just as a knock erupted through the green room. You walk to the door, anticipating it to be a member of the team, letting you know the grounds are clear and everything is ready to go. When the door was cracked open, you were met with the poker faced expression of Jim. 

“Good to go, Jim?” He shook his head, and quickly signaled for you to step out of the room. You glanced back at the actress, who now was scrolling through something on her phone. 

“We have a problem, Y/N.”

“What happened, Grange?”

“Two of our scouts at the next location have gone offline. No comms. The other two have been searching for them, but there is no sign of them.”

“Two armed agents don’t just go missing, Jim.”

“I know, Y/L/N. That’s why I’m telling you…WE. HAVE. A. PROBLEM.” He punctuated the last bit of the sentence, pointing his finger at the ground. You run your fingers through your hair, looking towards the ground. 

“Can we tell her agents that there is a chance the last interview has been compromised?” You ask, he shrugs. 

“I don’t know, Y/N, they seem pretty adamant about her fulfilling the schedule today.”

“Shit. Can we set a decoy? See if we can lure someone out?” You think out loud. 

“Waters will anticipate that. Can we pull everyone from the other two locations to go to the last one?” Jim asked.

“We have to, Jim. Something isn’t right.” You have a sneaking suspicion that there is something more to this, but at the moment, you have to work on the fly. “I’ll take Scarlet again. Let me check the cars myself- stay with her, please.” You run off to the enclosed garage where the three vehicles were staged- and inspected them from top to bottom. The lower ranking guards were shocked to see you rechecking the cars, but said nothing. You touched the earpiece in your ear, telling Jim to get everyone in here, and get Scarlett to you quickly. The faster you can do this, the better. 

Everyone was quickly shuffled into the garage, with Scarlett wearing a concerned expression as she is whisked away to your Escalade. You hop in, before turning and smiling at her, trying to reassure her that everything was okay. You knew this drive would be the most dangerous, if something really is wrong. It covers the most ground, and will take the longest due to traffic. You text Jim, letting him know to have the other two vehicles drive separate routes, so all the vehicles get split up. You’re hoping a little misdirection works in your favor. Pushing the button to start the truck, you accelerate out of the now open garage, beginning the journey going the same direction as everyone else. 

As you are approaching La Brea Ave., and Sunset, everyone splits. You turn, following Jims car a little bit further. You glance in the rearview mirror, the woman in back just staring out the window. You are planning to take the residential back way, avoiding the highway at all costs, and sticking to less than average ways to get to the last studio. Keeping your head on a swivel, you look for any vehicles that seem to be lingering or trying to stay close to you. Jim slows, switching lanes and shifting his vehicles position to be behind you. You accelerate though the intersection, as he continues behind you.

He suddenly accelerates, overtaking your position again, and almost cutting you off to get in front. You both approach the intersection that will either take you to the 101 Freeway, or up through a residential neighborhood, winding through the Hollywood Hills to arrive at the studio. Jims vehicle creep forward, signaling that it is going to get onto the freeway. As he begins to complete his turn, Scarlett gasps as a vehicle seems to come out of nowhere, plowing itself into the drivers side of the armored vehicle, wedging itself underneath and flipping the SUV onto its side.  Your eyes couldn’t seem to tear themselves away from the vehicle, hoping you’ll see Jim try to open a door, or break a window.

“Y/N…” Scarlett tries to get your attention, resting her hand on your shoulder. “Y/N!” Just as she succeeds at breaking your attention on the vehicle, you notice someone clamoring out of the offending vehicle, limping their way towards you. 

“Shit…”. You mutter under your breath, before making a difficult judgement call. You accelerated around the accident, the masked person from inside the vehicle lunging towards your SUV- causing Scarlett to scream in the backseat, as you drove up into the canyon, leaving the one man who you trusted most in this world behind, not knowing if he is ok. 

CHAPTER 13

[shadowxamyweek]

Do you have careers headcanons for Sonic's characters? (Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Cream, Shadow and Rouge) based on their interests and personalities what would they more likely choose?

Oo! Never have I been asked this before!

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Sonic: I don't think he'll ever get a 'real' job. It's really just... not his style, not who he is. Sonic has the speed and charisma to just continue being a rambler, and I think that is what he would prefer. Maybe he does odd favors for food and shelter, maybe he just crashes on friend's couches. Whatever it is, I think he's going to continue to live life fairly free and out there. Besides, even if/when Eggman ceases to be a threat, you still have other global forces like G.U.N. who will need to no doubt be kept in check.

(The few consistent places he can be found would be on Angel Island, Tail's couch, and Apotos.)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tails: I love the idea of Tails being an inventor and working with local communities in order to have sustainable accruement of resources, clean production, and fair wages/working conditions. I can't see him just being tied to a lab, but I also can't see him just entirely handing off whatever he's doing to a government or military. He'd probably hire an assistant to do a lot of the business of it, but Tails is particular enough to mandate his reading over and signing off on everything.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Knuckles: Guardian of the Master Emerald. He'll never fully separate himself from Angel Island. However, with some help from Tails, I think Knuckles would enjoy taking lengths to protect and secure the legacy of the Echidna. Perhaps he works with professors on archeological digs, perhaps he helps to translate and transcribe texts, but he would absolutely be involved in the preservation and education of his heritage. Knuckles may even work with a bat, a robot, and a hedgehog or two in order to steal some priceless historical artifacts back from some illegal collections.

(You may see where this is going. Yes it links back to that hypothetical game post XD)

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Amy Rose: So I've actually worked this one out and written about it a bit in my own writing XD. I know her big thing right now is she wants to own or work in a bakery, but I can also see her getting REALLY overwhelmed both by the business of it and the unfortunate way customers treat people. It would start to turn a passion of hers into a stressor, and so while I believe she would do that for a time, she'd ultimately leave it. After that, I think she'd work for an environmental group (in my writing, I named it the PINE- the Preservation of Imperiled Natural Environments XD). She works to restore cultural and natural sites from damages caused by both natural and man-made catastrophes. There would be opportunities to help the world, spread love, and travel, but also, she would have a home and friends to return to, which is equally important for her. (I came up with this idea BEFORE Frontiers, and I am so glad it seems to work even more than before that new addition to canon XD).

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Cream: I think the girl would run a farm. Like, Vanilla gives off the vibe of someone who saw some shit, went, 'nope' and made a small self-sufficient farm in the woods. Very self-reliant and self-collected. No doubt Cream would then inherit such a property and enjoy the perks of that lifestyle. Sure, she'll drive to a city, or she'll go on adventures. She's not AS much of a home-body as Vanilla. Still, at the end of the day, you'll find Creme up to her elbows and knees in mud surrounded by vegetables and fruit trees, very, very content. I do like to think she would also utilize part of the grounds and her own know-how as an unofficial/unlicensed Chao rescue, but that's extra.

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Shadow: I think they leave GUN. They'd stick with Team Dark, they'd continue helping out with Sonic and Co., but they deserve to have privacy and autonomy. That's not something they could get while working for GUN no matter what Towers or anyone else may promise. Beyond that, for an actual paycheck, I think they'd work at Club Rouge as a bouncer/security until Rouge closes down the club to be an art detective at which point in time they'd run a garden center while helping out with Cream and her chao rescue on the side. They need a break- something calm and enjoyable while still making ends meet. This would be that option for them.

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Rouge: to get Team Dark out of their contracts with GUN, she has to blackmail GUN. They're not happy with that, but with how much dirt she has on them, it works. She gets herself, Shadow, and Omega out of there. However, Club Rouge, which she had run for years in order to make ends meet, comes under fire by the city council, and she's pretty sure GUN is behind it. Not wanting to take any risks, she ends up shutting the club down and taking up and offer Knuckles set up for her; she ends up getting a job as an art and artifacts detective and hunts down echidna treasures. It's a good opportunity for her- very on the up and up with all the paperwork to prove it, she gets to dust off her old tricks and talents, and she gets an academic discount. Plus, she gets to still have fun with Shadow and Omega. What's not to like?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Thanks so much for asking this question! I absolutely loved it! What about you? What do you think they'd do?

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for pushing my daughter to excel in her career?

I and my daughter have a pretty rough relationship. Ever since her mother died in combat, I have been struggling with severe depression. My wife was the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. She meant everything to me, and every moment I feel her loss.

My daughter misses her as well, but she didn’t know my wife like I did, and has been able to make some progress in moving on with her life. That said, we still don’t have a very close relationship. I work as a director for a tech organization funded by the military, and by a matter of coincidence, my daughter ended up getting recommended to the program that I am currently working with. She is now helping to test some of the programs and devices that we are working on.

Part of this job requires preparing and training to be strong enough to use these products, that way, they don't end up injuring themselves when they get them. In order to make it more fun for everyone involved, we have made it into something of a competition. We have a leaderboard and everything, and wouldn’t you know it, my daughter has been at the top of it for years.

I’m proud of her, but I recognize how it looks that the director of this project has his daughter at the top of the rankings. I’ll admit that I’m harder on her than I am on the rest of our recruits, but it has always been for the betterment of herself and our project.

Recently, we have started handing out the prototypes for our testers to begin working with, and I’ve gotten to roll out my own personal project—a new recruit, personally outfitted with the newest technology and trained by yours truly, to compete with the rest of the leaderboard and give my daughter a run for her money. My daughter, however, is pissed. She thinks that the new recruit is receiving unfair advantages and attention, and honestly, has let the competition go to her head.

I was happy to see my daughter invested in something that she believes in, and I want for her to work hard to be the best, but she has started accusing the new recruit and me of trying to put her in a position to fail. She’s been putting herself in dangerous scenarios to try to win, then getting hurt and being forced to sit out for a while in order to recover.

Also, the new recruit hasn’t been too happy with me either. I don’t know what her deal is, but she seems to think that I’ve done something to hurt someone she cares about? I’m not a monster, I wouldn’t hurt a fly. (Not unless the Geneva conventions say anything about the atrocities we commit against ourselves, that is!) She seems to be siding with my daughter in all of this, which is just low.

I don't know how to make my daughter understand that I'm trying to make her into the best version of herself. She also doesn't seem to get that she just doesn't get to act like she's still "daddy's little girl" and gets the special treatment that comes with that when she acts so cold towards me.

My assistant says that it might be going a bit far to pit her against an AI based off of the memory of her mother in deadly combat, but I think if my daughter really cared about making her family proud, she’d show me and her mom that she’s willing to put in the effort. So, AITA?

[lyriquette]

Old RWBY AU description from the Frosen Steel server 12/24/2020:

noticing the trend that I was really really inspired that December 2020.

Anyway Silkpants!Weiss AU and drunkhacker!Willow blowing up on Jacques and manages to take out the company with her. Also the concept of a Ballmer peak (from xkcd) is that a certain precise blood alcohol level confers superhuman programming ability.

----

lilac — 12/24/2020 7:03 PM

Also silkpants!Weiss AU. Nail is that Jacques actually laid a hand on the kids and Willow goes berserk, baulking the unsaid patriarchial traditions in her family. She takes down the company with her own hands by revealing every dirty secret of the SDC which causes the Atlasian government to dismantle the company. Because of her assistance, she's awarded the rest of the liquid assets of the Schnee company, Jacques goes to jail, and Willow's all wow this went better than I could've ever imagined.

Changes involve the schneeblings are closer to each other, Willow works with Polendina and Atlas as the resident hacker and programmer, and Weiss ends up at Atlas than Beacon. Inspired by her mom taking out the thorn in the family, Weiss becomes the big bully of the family, except it's the other rich people that's scared of her.

Bully the weak? Hell no, I’m bullying the strong. Don't like it? You can bite me.

---

“Think it's funny tormenting little kids and making them eat garbage? Come on. Torment me then," said a bobcut-donning Weiss.

“Miss Schnee. It was just a jok-"

Slap.

“I just smacked you with a wad of Lien. It was just a joke.-" Weiss rebutted having pulled a stack of cash from her purse.

“you,” guy holding his face, “When my father hears an-"

Smack. Another stack of Lien hit the floor. A cracking of knuckles.

“It doesn't matter who comes now,” Weiss said as she brandished a pair of knuckledusters, “you're going to lick the floor clean, or I'm going to beat you until you're done.”

---

Part of the reason why the Schnee family doesn’t get messed with despite Weiss's antics is because Willow is a ticking time bomb for everyone. She's a good hacker and an even more protective mom. Someone tried to block Winter's advancement in the military unjustifiably, and Willow responded with releasing her blackmail material on that person, a small part that she's accumulated for years just being a drunk hacker – cause of the phenomenon of Ballmer Peak where a certain blood alcohol level confers superhuman programming skills where she so happened to sit in a majority of the time.

And Willow's like yeah all I care about is making money to support my family and my kids. If you mess with my kids, I don’t care if we both go to ruin. Momma Bear Schnee.

She also discovers the loophole in Atlasian security aka Watt's hack, so the whole system gets a revamp which gets important later with the CCT. Willow still drinks. But only at work. She's the only one allowed to do so cause she can’t program otherwise. “I don’t know how I finished the project. I blacked out and there it was." ????

------

lilac — 12/24/2020 7:06 PM

Yeeee. And also I just imagine someone high in the government going "come on girl what can you do to me." And Weiss releases a multi-continent album with every song dedicated to lambasting the guy and highlighting every bit of corruption and dark point in his career.

Needless to say, he doesn't stay in power xD

lilac — 12/24/2020 7:59 PM

-------

--------

The million lien question. 8) well, it's definitely gonna be Frostbyte first. Willow already works with Polendina in this AU, and Penny's creation and testing is completed earlier in canon. So Weiss'll get to interact with Penny a bit before Atlas and probably will be part of the same team eventually.

Penny doesn't quite get why everyone (mostly the affluent folk) seems to be scared of her friend. It's not like Weiss keeps wads of cash in her purse to smack people with, right? Also, Weiss acts pretty normal and nice when she isn't provoked. Even has a blog just dedicated to her finding dogs and petting them. The Schnee Mansion itself is practically a kennel. Momma Schnee is all whatever makes you happy. Whitley is also weak to dogs and is thinking about becoming a vet in the future given his proximity to them. Winter is allergic sadly but still all "who's an adorable cutie ah-choo!"

I digress.. anyway. So Penny's origins and high up connections aren't known. Per her papers, she only has Pietro as her father, and he's not immediately recognizable as someone special. So people insult her for both her lack of social standing and her quirkiness. Then someone makes the stupid mistake of doing it in front of Weiss.

Later the CCT tower has a couple new additions hogtied and spinning around by their waists on a rope. And they're all screaming "if you mess with Penny, you're messing with Weiss" while in tears. They do this because Weiss promised something far worse if they didn't.

Penny, having teen novel romances and fanfic as her cross-references, take it as a declaration of love. She ends up being the one who supports Weiss and also curbs her need to be and be seen as strong.

---

Headmaster's Office:

Ironwood, sighing as he sees Weiss: what did you do now?

Weiss, unrepentantly: I strung people up from the CCT tower again.

Ironwood: Weiss. The CCT tower is not your personal billboard. Not to mention that messing around with it can have consequences for everyone, even if you're not touching the tower when you climb up.

Weiss: …

Ironwood: …

Weiss: This conversation is going pretty differently compared to our usual ones.

Ironwood: How so?

Weiss: For one, you aren't yelling at me for beating up other people again.. I was getting worried that I ended up in some freaky alternate universe or something.

Ironwood, darkly amused: Would you actually listen if I told you to stop beating other people up?

Weiss pretends to ponder the question a bit before shaking her head.

Weiss: probably not.

Ironwood, rolling eyes: I figured. Besides I know why you did it, and though I can’t officially condone your actions, I can turn a blind eye.

Weiss: soo. If I don’t use the CCT as my billboard, can I hogtie people and hang them from other places?

Ironwood: …just go away already.

Weiss just laughs.

---

lilac — 12/24/2020 8:45 PM

"Please don't start anything in Vale. My dads told me to ask," Penny said with a soft giggle while giving Weiss a hug as they went on the plane.

"Anything else the Headmaster wanted to tell me?" Weiss asked, returning the hug.

"Don't mess with the ciivies. It's one thing to do it in Atlas since it's your home. Another to do it in another continent while being a Hunter,” Penny shrugged, “That's all.”

"Is there anything -you- want to tell me?” Weiss said playfully.

“I love you,” Penny replied with a smile.

“I-I-…” Weiss stuttered, a hint of pink of her cheeks. Every single time. And she still couldn’t say the words she wanted to say to her girlfriend. They just catch in her throat like they always did.

Penny pecked her on the cheek happily. “Don't worry. I know your feelings. See you in Vale!” she finished as she ran towards her designated plane with a wave.

"Ah. Penny! Uh bye!" Replied a flustered Weiss.

--

Streets of Vale during Vytal festival:

Some fancy, bright red car is driving beside her ugly rent-a-car at night. It's been cutting her off repeatedly after she had honked at them for doing it previously. A couple of other cars and a motorcycle were still on the road.

The red luxuxy car drove to her rental's side once more, the people within hollering and making lewd gestures and comments before cutting her off and forcing her to brake.

Continuing to ignore them after a dozen times of this, Weiss finally hears an interesting tidbit as they drove by her for the umpteenth time.

“We're all Hunters. -hic-. From Beacon. Got all that aura and stamina. How about a night Snow Angel?”

Hollers from the back of the car.

Hunters? Really now.

Weiss’s lips curved into the not-smile.

“She's smiling! What a sl-" Whatever the brown-haired guy was going to say trailed off as they sped past her again and hit their brakes.

She didn’t bother to hit hers this time.

Crash! Screech! Crunch! (edited)

[andithewhumper]

There are parts of the world that not many people get to see. Those parts that are kept close to the chest of those who know of it, those who made it. When people start to learn about those parts it is vital that they are the right people. 

---

When Riley started her career in private security she didn’t expect it to be a highly lucrative job. It was something she had the skills for that would gain her no notoriety or extra attention. 

Riley, for all intents and purposes, was butch. It wasn’t something she had gone out of her way to become, but that was how everyone described her. Sure she looked the part with the stature of a linebacker and short bobbed hair-just long enough to pull out of the way, but short enough that it didn’t cause any problems. But she hadn’t chosen to be like that. She wore what worked best for her job and in high school she wore what allowed her enough movement to do her workouts. When she left high school, she looked for something she didn’t have to try too hard in.

Her job was easy. To some of her coworkers it was mentally taxing, protecting rich assholes who saw them as machine-like and didn’t care about their humanity. Riley didn’t mind. It was easy to fall into the mindset of being the wall between someone else and the outside world. She learned how to spot potential threats and ways out of dangerous situations. She learned how to sound monotone enough that the clients wouldn't feel intimidated, treating her like she was just a virtual assistant instead of a woman who was questioning their decisions. She was good at her job and she liked that. 

When one day her boss pulled her aside after a particularly long job, she didn’t expect it. His face made her think something was wrong but instead of telling her off he handed her a business card. Written on it was a date for a few days from then and an address. 

“Not sure what they want from you, Owens. You’re one of my best employees, but you should be able to see what else is out there.” 

The business card didn’t give away much. Honestly, it looked like another private security company, but she respected her boss’s opinion so she nodded silently and pocketed the card. 

---

Three days later she found herself outside a fancy old townhouse. The sign on the street matched the fancy script and forgettable name on the business card. Riley knocked firmly on the door and took two steps back so that she stood at the edge of the porch. She kept her posture the same as when she was working. If this was an interview she would rather start with a good impression. 

A man, most likely a butler, opened the door. She nodded silently to the man and handed him the business card. She was led into a large office space. It had obviously been furnished by someone with old money. The curtains hung over the windows, not letting any light through, and a small but intricate chandelier hung from the ceiling. 

The butler directed her to sit while she waited for the owner of the office to appear. When someone finally did come through the door she got up and stood at attention. She might not have come from a military background, but her job demanded her to show respect for the rich and powerful, something that required a good understanding of when sitting was inappropriate. She doubted these people would be any different from her previous clients. 

The man who walked in was in his late forties. He was dressed in a smart but simple suit and he looked like most businessmen she had been assigned to in the last three years. He eyed her up and down for a moment before sitting himself and directing her to do the same. He flipped through a small folder before looking up at her. 

“Straight A’s all through high school. Star shot put thrower for the school track and field team. Every college in a four state radius was itching to recruit you and yet you went straight into private security.” Riley resisted the urge to shift under his scrutinous gaze. She kept her head up and held eye contact. 

“Tell me, Riley Owens, why is that?” 

She thought through the other answers she had given to that question. Out of all of her typical answers, she couldn’t land on one she thought he would deem appropriate. 

“Honestly, I just had no interest in doing any more school. I’m good at what I do and I make enough money to live. That’s all I care about.” 

The man wrote something down before looking back up at her. 

“Your job is your life then?” he questioned her. She wondered if she should say yes. It was the honest answer, but she had a feeling this was more than it seemed. 

“Yes. My job allows me to be faceless. I don’t need much else.”

“Not much for human connection?”

“I connect with my coworkers. We go out for drinks occasionally.”

He nodded and wrote something else. 

“What is this for?” she asked. “You don’t look like military.”

“You will find out soon. Now for my final question: how strong is your pride?”

Riley raised an eyebrow at him, surprised enough to break her neutral expression. 

“My job doesn’t often require pride. It's something I leave at home.”

The man grinned and pressed a stamp onto the paper he had been writing on.

“Wonderful.” 

[fayythe]

Divine Love: Chapter One

Henry Cavil X OFC Summary:

Rhylan Daines property of the United States Government, the training she took on, the beating, and pain was all manipulating her to loose her body autonomy, they tell her to eat a certain way, talk, walk, act. Nothing is hers, how can she escape the torture her life has become? Now an semi-active black ops Navy Seal working for the CIA struggled to make peace with her past.  She was always told that every life she took, every person she tortured, and every soul she crushed was for the greater good, but how is more violence supposed to help the world?  How can acting help her stop being forced to kill? How can finding love help her find herself? Only time will tell...

Tigger Warnings:

Slight Alcoholism, Assault, Kidnapping, Blood, Skin Branding, Heavy Depression, Drugs, Undiagnosed eating disorder, Forced Eugenics, Talk of Genocide, talk of war, talk of gore, Hospitalizations for medical reasons, Mental Health issues, Hitman/murder unrecognized by law, Profanity, Military Brutality, torture, terrorism, violence, scars, seizures.

Rhylan's Tattoos

Rhylan's Body Scars Diagram

“I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.”

― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Chapter 1: Судьба

Судьба… Russian... meaning – Fate

December 11th, 2015

   My dreams were always clouded with dark light, nightmares from my past. Sometimes colors and the good parts like handing out candy to refugee children, or others like being beaten by the KGB. I still remember their questions.

 But somehow, I always end up waking up with my body in the fetal position, covered in sweat head to toe and a knife so tightly in my hand my knuckles are white, only this time someone was banging on the door.

“Rhylan! Open this door! We have to get ready; you better not be sleeping!” Nelia, my assistant, and the closest thing I have to a friend. I sat up from my cramped position, still feeling the stray pieces of my strawberry-blonde hair stuck to the back of my neck. “I’m coming!” I yelled, and the banging stops. I sit up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed, clicking the pocketknife closed, and placing it on the end table.  To be completely honest, I was purposefully taking my time to get to the door. I was dreading the following event to take place.

Something about me, even while I was younger, I tend to gravitate to the quietest and loneliest of places. I rather observe and watch from afar. But—I was promised free food and I can’t cook so this works out for me.

Once I finally made it to the door to see Nelia, she was already made up so beautifully. Her dark skin was glittering with her favorite shimmer lotion, and she smelled of her signature gardenia and cinnamon, her hair tight in its updo was always my favorite part about her, while my red-ish blonde hair was straight, her auburn brown hair was curly. It had natural volume. Maybe I should get a perm? I thought to myself. Then the image of me in middle school popped into my head and I physically cringed. No, thank you. Not again.

“What’s wrong?”

I didn’t realize I hadn’t invited her inside yet, nor did I realize she was carrying two large plastic bag-looking things

“Don’t worry, come in. It’s good to see you. Uhm—you can set your stuff on the table.”

I stepped away from the fetal funnel giving her room to walk into my hotel suite and set her belongings on the large round table in front of an array of windows.

“Oh, don’t you worry this stuff isn’t for me, this is what you’re going to wear at the award shows tonight”

I groaned. The sound was intended to be inside my head but apparently, I spoke it.

“Oh, don’t you start, you chose the walk of life as your next career path. No complaining. Now go take a shower, you look like you just got sprayed by a sprinkler.”

She reached into her back pocket “Also put these on instead of a bra”

She handed me flesh-looking stickers, two of them. I looked at her with my eyebrow raised, “They’re pasties” she shrugged. “Just do it” 

“Fine, do I wear underwear?” I questioned…maybe I should’ve thought a bit harder about the answer to that question.

“I mean if you’re into going commando at public events, I’m all for it.” She winked.

“Asshole” I muttered, walking towards the bedroom for the large shower.

“You love me!” I heard her yell back.

She was right, I did love her in a sisterly type of way. She is one of the only people alive who knows who I am to my core, sometimes I can’t tell if that’s for the best. Am I corrupting her innocence being around her? Am I that dark plague I fought hard not to be? I couldn’t tell you.

   But Nelia has always been there for me, she knows the pain I went through in the military and the battles I have with myself though she’s never asked me any questions. She’s resilient, and that’s what I’ve always admired so highly of her, especially for being so young.

  I found myself standing in front of the large mirror in the stupid huge bathroom, missing my dog, and my own home. I started to take off my shirt, watching my fit body tense to the cold. Scars are one of the reminders of who I am. So many. So many stories. And ironically, I almost remember all of them, every story for every scar.

The shower went by in a blur, the hot water on the hottest setting the heat piercing through my skin. I missed the feeling of pain.

When walking out of the bathroom, I froze in the corridor. A short man with broad shoulders was by the table Nelia was originally. I pulled the two halves of my white hotel robe together. I contemplated sneaking away and grabbing my gun from the other room, but I took a deep breath and tried my best to tell myself that not everyone wants to hurt me.

Nelia walked out of the closed-off kitchen of the suite “Rhylan! It’s so good to see you finally join us, this is Lorenzo, the hair stylist and makeup artist I was telling you about” She winked.

I was confused at first, Lorenzo?

---I hadn’t heard of a Lorenzo.

Had I?

I deiced to just go with it, taking a few steps forward and giving this real-ist smile I could manage, I could tell by how Nelia rolled her eyes she could tell the smile I so tightly pulled across my face was fake, she knew me too well.

“Right, Lorenzo! I’ve heard so much about you” I stop about four feet away from him. His face is soloist but soft, he was examining me observing my flaws though I didn’t really care, I do it to myself so often, I’m so numb to the feeling.

What was strange was the second he was done observing me, he ran up and grabbed my face giving two kisses on both my cheeks, in my short time in France the term there for this… appalling greeting… was called la bise, and to this day I still hated my personal space being completely devalued. Though, being undercover was different, I was there for a task and tasked to be a different person. I couldn’t be the Rhylan with personal space issues or haphephobia: the fear of touch.

I immediately tensed completely, and it took everything in my body not to put this poor man into a headlock, so I looked at Neila in the corner of my eye for some time of escape. Luckily, she came to my rescue.

“Lorenzo is here to do your hair and makeup for the shoot, I would, but you’re a pain in my ass. You’re likely to be nicer to someone that you first met.” Nelia pulls Lorenzo back away from me, not before giving her a raise of his dark brow.

Does this dude speak—?

I was caught off from my thought when he finally spoke with his rough Italian and—and what was that a hint of a French accent? Okay maybe my la bise reference earlier actually made sense, I thought to myself silently chuckling.

“Ok’ let us get this done, come, sit, sit my dear,” Lorenzo spoke gesturing me to the dining chair draped with a towel, I nodded and sat in the uncomfortable chair with metal framing and a leather cushion. The 2000’s called they want their chair back. I swear I had this exact one in my bedroom…

“Let me look at you,” he says gesturing to my face, I give him a slight nod of the head. What I didn’t expect was his hands to be all over my face, what the fuck, does this guy see with his hands…wait, what was that smell, garlic bread? Gross. I internally gag.

I pulled back abruptly confusion and anger were on my face as I could see the change in expression in his eyes, fear, was that it? “I kid, I kid” he laughed he was quick to pull my hair up back into a large bun. He kid? Man, this guy had some serious balls.

"Neila will you please pour me a large glass of Jewel, I don’t think I can get through this without it” I spoke, hearing her rummage through something out of the corner of my ear. “Nope. Drinks will be served at the award shows, but it also would be bad for you to show up drunk to the red carpet before.” I laughed, really laughed. “We both know one drink won’t hurt me, please” I tried my best to make my best pleading voice I could manage. “Rhylan, you’ve known me long enough to know I don’t budge, I also won’t be the one to let you feed into your unhealthy habit” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, “Come on! You know the only drinks that will be served is Korbel, or Jack Daniels”

“Tuff. Maybe you’ll be lucky you never know” She gives me the smallest smirk and I want to punch her in the shoulder so hard. Oh, so hard.

“Okay I’m ready for the beautifying processes” Lorenzo speaks up, somehow, I didn’t observe him laying out each chalk palette and cream sticks in a perfect horizontal row along with a questionable long black…sex toy? No, there’s a red light on it. I cringed, what the fuck is that... I need to do some research.

“Please turn on Dr. House maybe that will tie me over,” I asked sighing, Neila smiled and nodded.

I related to Dr. House a lot. He hates people, I hate people. He doesn’t believe in anything of religion, I was just beaten so much by Russians that no matter how many times I pleaded for God to help me, he never came, and I had to help myself.

And in this situation, all my books were at home, in my office I missed so dearly.

“What look are we looking for today, eh? We could do something natural, maybe give you a red lip to bring out those beautiful teeth” Lorzeno suggested looking over at Neila for approval, “That will be perfect!”

I rolled my eyes, of course, it would be… damn this is going to be a long day…

---

Once Lorzeno finally finished my makeup and hair, I was excused, I needed a nap already.

“Can I see it?” I asked gesturing to the mirror, Neila stopped me immediately “No! You must be finished. So, it’s time to get dressed.” She turned to Lorzeno abruptly who was already almost finished backing up all his messy belongings and his black questionable sex toy, which I now know it to be a hair curler. “Time for you to leave Lorzeno, thank you for all your hard work, your payment will be deposited into your bank account in the morning.”

“Aye, this work I’ve done, my mama would be so proud.” Lorenzo becomes teary-eyed and walks out of the hotel room. I physically cringe, what a wimp it’s just makeup it’s not like he gave me plastic surgery.

---Though, maybe I should into that. I ponder the thought.

“Okay he’s gone, now strip” She gestures to my robe.

I smirk, “if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask,” I gave a dry chuckle and dropped the robe. 

Being trained in the military for Bootcamp, a normally male-dominated career, and then being trained as a navy seal which never has any female get pasted the entrance test has me generally emotionless to feeling embarrassed.

I’ve had to take donkey-sized shits in the middle of the woods would an audience of five men, I’ve had to sit in front of a fire butt ass naked because I was stupid and decided to jump in a freezing lake as this fucker, we were following for twelve fucking days caught us and dumped his cell phone.

 Take a big breath Rhylan, and don’t overwhelm yourself.

I’m sorry, I have strong feelings if you’re offended get over it. Sorry, not sorry.

Coming back to reality I observed my situation all over again.

I was a good four inches taller than Neila, while she was just thin and lean with natural curves, I was muscular and toned, and the scars and tattoos I had taken part in distracted people from what my feelings and thoughts were, it was a mask. A successful one at that, nobody ever bothered me willingly.

She cringed, “Whatever, you’re gross.”

She handed me a pair of black dress pants, and I sept into them. A perfect fit, maybe that expensive ass dress stylus was worth the money. The pants were more like skinny jeans, the idea was to make them a bit more formed and fitting to let my muscular curves show through. Me being me, I don’t understand whom that would help but I just take Nelia’s word for it.

Next was the blazer, this is the part I was most nervous about. The blazer had no undershirt and just a single button connecting the two halves together, showing my cleavage and the huge ass scar on my chest.

I pull the blazer on connecting the button together, “What if they ask, you know about the scar, how I got it”

Neila smiled sort of endearingly, “Tell them the truth, it’s good press.” She chuckles.

But is it really? Would people think of me differently if they knew my past? I mean the public knew I was in the military, but they didn’t know what branch or what I did in the military, the CIA… whom I killed, whom I kidnapped… whom I tortured… who tortured me.

I really couldn’t decide whether the public needed to know or if they should know. I just knew for completely sure; I didn’t want to be treated differently. I didn’t want pity; I didn’t need it. I spent the entire first twelve years of my life trying to prove to people that I am as strong, powerful, and courageous as my country needed me.

And heck, I was the first solo female Navy Seal and former CIA Agent. Look at me now bitches, I didn’t need you, I didn’t need your opinions then and I don’t need your opinions now.

I nod at Neila finally coming content with my thoughts and she hands me a pair of long black Nike socks, and the most gorgeous, black-heeled combat boots I had ever seen, I raised my eyebrows “Okay, I got to admit those are kind of kick-ass” I grabbed them out of her hands shoving my feet through the socks, and boots and standing up.

“I knew you’d like them. Okay, one last thing. Jewelry” Neila gestures for me to turn around and I do as I lift my hair up, she puts on multiple silver chains the longer ones first, and then decrease in length finally stopping at a black choker.

Then she physically turns to be back around practically shoving diamond studs in my ear lobes, then fixing my light strawberry blonde curls while standing on her tip tones.

“Okay, It’s perfect! You can see now” She gestures to the mirror.

I walk over towards the shiny plastered glass embedded into the wall not truly expecting what I would see but when I did end up in front of it. I didn’t see myself. My hair, which hair normally long and stick straight and split in the middle, now was curled and split on the side. The bright red lipstick did exactly what it was meant to do, make my horse teeth stand out, goal achieved.

I now knew why Neila didn’t want me to see myself when the makeup was finished; because she knew I would object.

Which is fair, I do have a high opinion of everything, yet strangely I won’t take anyone else’s opinion. This is probably why I still don’t have social media even though my management encourages it strikingly so, I don’t care. I have my reasons; they’ll just have to respect them. I know what’s best for the course and the safety of my life.

 But who cares now, the torture of this grueling makeover experience was finally over, and I couldn’t wait to go home, I truly missed not having to check for bed bugs every time I slept in a bed that wasn’t my own which felt like a lot now.

Nelia handed me a black clutch, with a quick look inside I was able to spot my cellphone, my ID, exactly four hundred dollars in cash, and the red lipstick that smothered my lips.

I sighed, what did I get myself into? –

The limousine that Neila had rented to take me to and from the award shows was expensive, who could’ve known a bougie bus could’ve been so much to rent?

I chose the seats in the fairest back of the tacky bus I could manage; I was dreading this experience I still question how I ended up in this position in the first place.

That’s another story for another time.

I was bouncing my knee, my anxiety prevalent. I needed some alcohol, something to take the edge off.

"There’s got to be something to drink in here” I mumbled.

The amount of money Neila spent on renting this stupid invention, it better be bulletproof, and diamond encrusted. 

I lift the center console and see a mini fridge with fully stocked vodka and whiskey bottles, score.

I grab one, a decent vodka though it smelled like rubbing alcohol as I took the cap off, I gave the biggest drink I could manage.

Neila looked over at me from her phone, “what are you doing!” her voice was raised, and I shrugged, “I’m a grown woman, I deserve a drink” I screwed the cap back on, and she rolled her eyes and continued scrolling through her phone.

“You act like a teenager” She spoke.

To be fair it’s true, I was broken, depressed had a slight alcohol problem. Most teenagers were just like me nowadays.

I didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t going to object to the truth, but I also wasn’t going to feed into an argument. Jeez, we act like sisters.

“Here, this is your speech in case you win an award and the address to the nearest fast food. I won’t be here with you when the awards are over, I must be up early in the morning.”  She handed me two pieces of paper, I briefly looked them over and was content with what I saw I stuffed it into my blazer pocket.

Once we got passed all the traffic and finally made it in front of the red carpet, I got ready.

“Remember, just own it, be yourself, pose, smile some, and answer questions,” Neila said, trying to reassure me.

I didn’t help. “This is your mission, you’re a famous actor, you are kind, funny, and easy-going”

That did a little bit, “This is my mission” I repeated.

“You got this girl” she spoke, giving me a pat on my thigh.

My door was opened by some type of

"It's good to see you Ms. Daines." He spoke offering me a hand; which I didn't take.

"It's Rhylan, but thank you." I said back. Maybe that was a bit too sly, should I apologize? I shook my head, I didn't realize how much I hated being around people until now.

In person the red carpet was a stronger red than I expected, the tacky ropes holding the screaming people waving flashing cameras were taller than those on television. I was truly not prepared to what was ahead of me.

I gave off my fakest smile and sent a wave with the hand that was wrapped so tightly around the head of my bottle of shitty vodka. That only made the crowd go scream more and the flashing of cameras burn my retinas, that wasn't a smart idea.

"Just follow the carpet, people will direct you" The big broody fake security guard said.

I nodded walking down the carpet with the plastic smile still across my face, lets hope I can get through this soon. I'm starving.

I stopped at this guy with long curly hair standing by a red-letter x on the floor, he was nicely dresses in a simple suit, he offered me a smile which I somewhat returned.

"Rhylan Daines, is it? My name is Cole, this is a slow-motion camera. Would you like to take a cool slow-motion video?"

I looked off to the large camera on a crane looking arm. I'll definitely pass. "Yes, Nice to meet you Cole. I—Uh, I'll pass not really my thing" I said, nodding.

"Are you sure? It will only take a few seconds." His voice was very encouraging.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm a bit too new to this, maybe next time. It was nice to meet you, Cole"

I offered him my hand, which he took and gave another smile.

"Okay, just continue the way down the carpet." He gestured.

I started walking down the carpet, the flashing going off ten folds. I was holding my clutch in one hand and the other was still cemented on the rim of my vodka, which I now considered my comfort bottle, even though how badly it tasted to my normal choice of Jewel.

The people screaming my name, the flashing -- It made my eyes water and my ears ring, I wanted to escape this strange hell or heaven, they always used to say heaven would be welcomed by a bright white light.

I go up to a lady holding a microphone out nearly getting trampled by the incoming crowd pushing against the ropes. She offered me a smile, telling me her name, which I honestly couldn't hear nor did I really care.

I held up a finger, in one of those pause gestures causing her to stop talking.

I looked above to the crowed and pushing my voice from my diaphragm, I spoke in the voice the military gifted me. "Listen up, If anyone wants me to answer their questions, start by this: Quit leaning on the ropes, turn your flash off; it makes my eyes hurt, and stop shouting. I can assure you everyone twenty miles away can hear you, while y'all are at it, give this girl some space, come on guys don't be rude."

The crowd became quiet, while cameras were still up and the sound of clicking was continuing, the bright flash blinding my eyes ceased and the crowd backed up a bit leaving the short lady some space to stand up straight. She offered me a smile, which I pretended to not see.

"Thank you"

"Don't worry about it, I understand being on the bottom of the totem pole" I spoke.

I wasn't lying for once either. The military especially the navy was so male dominated when I joined, nobody took me seriously. It surprised everyone when I applied to go to SEAL training and got accepted, they thought it was a joke, a girl? Special ops? Please.

Boy did I prove them wrong, though nobody expected me to get through it. The first few women before who were brave enough to try, never got past the first few days. Therefore, making me the very first female navy seal.

But let me tell you, it still pissed me off they wouldn't let me on a submarine, no females allowed? Are you joking? Not to mention, few months after they ship me and my shit to the CIA the headlines stated, 'United States Navy now allows women on submarines'.

THE AUDACIY.

"So am I able to ask you a few questions?" I nodded, "Go for it"

I somehow new they were going to be personal, but it feels like every time I end up around a fan or paparazzi, they are always inclined to ask about my life outside of acting.

While I could understand the curiosity, I was good at keeping my life a secret I did it for so long and for so many years. It was annoying they wouldn't ask about my work, how I was able to overcome things, how I ended up being so successful so fast. Seeing this was my first appearance on film and main character? That's generally never heard of.

"It's strange, there's been a few other appearances for the cast of Mad Max; Fury Road. What made you not go to those and make an appearance here?" She pointed the microphone at me,

I actually laughed, "I was told there was going to be free food here, I can't cook worth of shit"

"Damn it—fuck, My bad, I'm sorry. I was told not to curse" I cover my mouth, she just laughed "Don't worry about it"

"Uhm—Your backstory is a little bit scrambled; nobody can figure out who you are. What did you do before making your big debut into the world of acting?"

Scrambled? Who said that? Damn, I want some eggs now.

Okay Rhylan, stop thinking about food. Answer her question.

Right her question, what was her question?

"Oh, I was in the military" I said, not the full truth, not a full lie either though.

Her eyes widened a bit and as she looked down to look at her clip board her eyes caught the scar on my chest, damn. This was going so smoothly, now more questions, I internally groaned.

"Really? What branch?"

I thought about it, should I really answer it. I shook my head; I'll deal with the repercussions later. I rather be honest now.

"Navy"

She smiled, "That's really cool, actually my da—"

I felt someone kiss my cheek, I turned my head and see Tom smiling, "It's good to see you again, twinkle toes." He spoke in his rough British accent, I smiled, a true Rhylan smile.

"You know I hate that nickname—" I playfully punched his shoulder.

"Tough."

I smiled and rolled my eyes, Tom and I stepped back to pose in front of the wall with random logo's sponsoring the award shows.

Soon more of the cast of Mad Max, Fury Road, showed up. Of course, Nick, being Nick decided to try to give me a hug and that was the worst pain I had ever experience.

Once we were sitting a table in the huge auditorium, which was lucky towards the back, I finally felt my self-relax a little bit.

I took a long-awaited swig of my vodka, "So, how have you been? Any new projects yet?" Tom asked trying to make small talk,

"Yeah, I've gotten a quite a few offers. I haven't really made any decisions yet."

A waiter with fancy a fancy black vest and white undershirt, put a large plate of salad in front of me, my lips curled in disgust. I hate salad, or rabbit food as I called it.

"No thank you" I gave the plate back to him which he took and ran off. Probably to gossip, I don't blame him. I would too.

"What were the offers?" Tom continues, him picking up the fork and shoving the leafy green bullshit in his mouth.

I took another sip of my vodka, "Return of Zander Cage, Deadpool, few tv show appearances and uhm—" I paused, I just knew he was going to chew my ass out. "Wonder women"

Tom dropped his fork, making the rest of the cast look at us, I awkwardly smiled, Nicholas next to me put his hand on my shoulder, "You okay love?"

"Don't worry" I said, pulling his hand off my shoulder. No touching. I hate people touching me.

I looked back over to Tom, "Wonder women, are you kidding me!"

"Shh!" I hit his shoulder.

"Nobody is supposed to know keep your mouth shut. You're lucky I even told you"

When I met Mr. Tom Hardy here, I didn't know a damn thing about what I was getting myself into. The whole setting was new to me, which generally caused my emotions to be out of whack. I got the role of Imperator Furiosa by chance. I was at the right place at the right time, and I guess the right people had their happy panties on, end the end, here I am.

While I do wish I could thank those that fought for me to get the role and ultimately succeeded, a part of me wondered where I would be now if they didn't.

Probably still undercover, maybe seizing somewhere in a dark alley alone again.

While It was true, I didn't like people. I didn't like being around them, I didn't like incessant need every person I met in this career felt the need to hug or touch me or give me advice I didn't ask for. I did enjoy exploring the inner part of me that always had a love for the arts.

When I first started out, Tom really helped me through the new emotions and situations I wasn't used to experiencing, I really owe some part of supposed fame to him, now he's the closes thing I have to a friend in this industry.

"You're going to take it right?" Tom asked, the previous look of concern still plastered on his face.

"Wonder women? Oh—I don't know. Nelia thinks I should, but I think I should just roll a dice or something."

Just then a six-ounce steak on a fancy glass white plate was put in front of me, I licked my lips. Food.

Oh how I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything all day.

I took a bite of the steak; it was juicy and medium rare just how I liked it.

The vocal moan I let out of my mouth made the table laugh as Nicholas threw a few jokes, normally I would flip him off, but the juicy steak stole my attention from reality. Okay, maybe this isn't so bad after all.

The rest of the time I spent there was a blur, I remember once food was done being served and the awards were starting, the announcer did the long draw out introduction made some sad jokes, looking back on it I don't even remember their name.

Damn. That's sad.

I found myself just drinking, before I knew it, I had downed the full bottle and I finally felt the buzz I was looking for, craving.

I wasn't anywhere near drunk, but I wasn't sober, and it was awesome. No pain, complete honesty and I bet if I tried, I could sleep more than two hours straight.

Alcohol, you know those ads that say it doesn't solve your problems, they're lying to you.

Truly.

When Tom's hand slapped me back into reality things happened all too fast,

"They called your name! Get up there!"

Oh shit.

What.

Me?

Oh no, fuck.

I might die, shit no, I might puke, and shit my paints...and die. All at once.

I bet it would be a record.

I scoot back my chair and start to walk up to the stage as clapping continues, I made sure to give off the realest fake smile I could manage and a few waves to a different actors and celebrities I had recognized, surprisingly all of them waved back.

Huh, okay maybe not everyone in this industry are snobs.

Once I received the fancy award, for best staring actress, I said thank you to the host or whatever, which I still didn't know the of and he handed me a microphone.

Fuck. A speech?

I wasn't prepared for this.

I looked at the huge room full of different celebrities of all different talents and my mind froze, as I felt for the speech Neila had written for me I mentally cursed.

But hey, the address to...

"I had prepared a speech, I had written it down and everything."

Lie.

"But I guess I lost it, now I only have the address for IN-AND-OUT, what the hell is that?"

Crowd laughed. Well that's a good start.

"North main street, if anyone wants to know."

The crowd laughed again.

Maybe this will go somewhat good.

"I'm not really good at public speaking, never have. This is all so new to me. I started acting because I learned I enjoyed being in other people's shoes, feeling they're emotions, processing the way the think. Reliving they're experiences." As I was speaking in the microphone, I was looking over every face I could see in the large room everyone had a normal unjudging facial expression.

Fuck it, the lady that interviewed me outside will have parts of my backstory on newspapers in a few days. I rather it come straight from me.

"I was in the Navy before stepping in the audition that changed my life for the better, while I can't really say much about my time in it or after, I can say that those moments laughing and working with the cast that made me find a love in the arts again really helped me through those tough days, and to get this..."

I looked at the trophy, best staring actress for Mad Max: Fury Road.

"Thank you"

The crowd broke out clapping again, the table in the back of course hollering my name. Nicholas and Tom probably, maybe they've had a little bit too much to drink.

Don't be a hypocrite Rhylan, it's not like you didn't just wash down a whole bottle of acetone. Watch my kidney's bleed while I pee later.

Karma is a bitch they say.

Once I handed the microphone back to the host and said my goodbyes, I made it back to the table where all the cast congratulated me, while most of them knew I didn't enjoy being touched, I couldn't let myself pull back from a hug from Rosie or Zoe.

Tom did get a little bit jealous though, so I gave him a side hug, still the same right?

My award was pretty, though I can't describe what it looks like because realistically it's kind of ugly and I don't want judgement.

Its pretty because I worked my ass off for it.

I always did well with positive reinforcement, you know like when you teacher gives you a star sticker and you prize that stupid sticker the entire day.

Maybe that's why the military gives you racks? The big kid sticker.

Never thought about it that way

Guess as you get older you realize things you didn't before

The rest of the show went on fast; the last few people got their award and the live show was wrapped up. They finally let everyone either say goodbye and leave, or go to the after party which was in a different section of the large building.

To be honest, I wanted to leave.

"There will be all you can drink, free alcohol" Tom whispered in my ear, him drunk already.

I raised my eyebrow, really? Free? Well don't mind if I do.

"Fine, I'll go but no dancing or weird shit."

The party section was kind of like the warehouse clubs I went to as a teenager. Gosh, I missed those days.

It had strobe lights of colors and fancy black and white party decorations. The music was some disco noise that honestly made my ears bleed but was such a repetitive beat it was easy to drown out.

The one thing that did call my attention was the long bar with multiple bartenders in black long-sleeved shirts, two male and one female with bright blue hair. There were empty stools lined along the counter of the bar, most people were just ordering a drink and going off to different standing tables to mingle with their fellow celebrity friends. Not me.

"Hey, I gotta take a piss, catch up with you a minute" Tom said tapping my arm to get my attention over the blaring music, I nodded in response.

Once Tom wondered off to find a restroom, I made my way to the bar sitting in one of the surprisingly comfortable bar chairs. Nelia had stopped by before she had to leave and gave me a congratulatory speech. Well, more like her, because as her words, she was the 'best manager ever and I wouldn't have gotten this far without her'

Though she wasn't wrong, she could've been a bit more subtle about it.

But luckily, she had offered to take the award back to my hotel room before she went to hers, she made sure to insult how it looked beforehand though which is such like her.

I waved over the bartender, "Hey man, what's the best whiskey you got?"

He smiled holding up a finger for me to give him a moment, he walks over to the large shelfing system the bottle he grabbed was almost like a wine bottle, tall and slim with more of a corked cap.

"This shit, I swear everybody is sleeping on it" he said, grabbing a chilled shot glass and pouring me a taste, once he handed it to me, I gave it a good sniff catching hints of orange and honey, smells good.

I downed the shot in a swig, damn it was really good.

"Damn, whats this called?" I asked

"Eagle Rare, its aged for ten years or so. This want you want?" He raised the bottled up,

"Yeah, on rocks though. You better have more than that tiny bottle." I got settled in my chair pulling out my phone and flipping through it.

Not long I was already on my second glass, and I knew the alcohol was finally hitting me, I clicked the messaging app on my phone and sent a video to my mom.

"Hey Momma, I miss you and my puppy, California can suck my left nut, its so hot here and smells bad. Give my puppy a kiss for me, love you" I kissed the phone.

Sent.

Welp. I'll regret that.

"Can I get a martini, please"

A large British man asked the bartender, who then nodded and proceeded to make the drink.

A martini, how girly, and snobby...

The alcohol in me made the laugh I normally would've kept hidden made me break out in a cackle. A full-on smiling cackle, I was still talking to myself in my head, a martini?

I didn't even look at the man once, but I could feel him staring at me.

Okay man, what's with the staring?

Say what you want to say, I hate people who withhold how they feel. Its irritating, I should've have to play hopscotch and rock paper scissors at once to decipher what you want me to figure out.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked, finally receiving his drink from the bartender, and taking a small sip.

"Because—a martini." I laugh again.

"Yeah? What's wrong with a martini?" His voice...it was deeper but sounded so familiar.

I was too drunk to put my finger on it.

"What isn't wrong with a martini? Is so boring"

For some reason, I still wasn't looking at him.

"What's a good suggestion then?" He asks, from the corner of my eye I could see him setting down his martini.

"Jewel, but normally nobody has it." I shook my head, so sad, stupid Russian imports.

Just then the bartender pulls out the bottle, Oh. My. God.

I think I'm going to start crying, and I never cry, especially in public.

I looked at the bartender my eyes were hazy, "I think I'm in love with you"

He cackled.

The fancy British guy continued, "Well since you suggested, I'll take a shot with you. Bartender, two please."

Just then two shots were placed in front of us, I started to pick mine up and go for the goal, my mouth.

"Wait, lets cheers on it." He offered.

I rolled my eyes, and turned facing him and froze.

Oh My Jersey.

The shock on my face didn't even phase him, he just clinked his shot on to mine and downed it in one sitting before placing the shot glass on the counter.

"Hi Rhylan," He said, getting slightly closer.

I was still frozen, I couldn't believe after almost, seven...eight... no, nine years from seeing each other the first time to now. The day me and Henry had met the first time and spent those few hours together had really changed my idea on what a soulmate was, or if it was possible.

Though because Henry had become close to me on mission and I had told him my real name, I had to keep tabs on him for a little while to make sure my choices didn't get him hurt...or even killed.

After he started getting a bit bigger in the acting world and got casted in some fancy show which I honestly didn't care to watch, he moved to London, and I had stopped needed to keep tabs on him, he was safe.

As much as I wanted to see him again, I felt some type of connection I had never felt before with Henry as long as I was in the career path I was in I was never going to be able to be with him without him being in danger, not to mention how unfair it would be to be in a relationship with someone and not being able to tell them all the ways something could go wrong because it was 'classified'.

It's why my dating world was dry and stuck to hook ups where the guy was okay with me being on top and in control. Though nowadays it was it was hard to come by without using some type of app which I wasn't going to do now because of my social status.

"Rhylan?"

Henry grabs the full shot glass and puts it on the counter as I slowly come back to reality.

"Henry?" My throat was dry.

"Yes, it seems you do remember me, is that right?"

I nodded, my body still frozen from the utter shock I was in right now. The chances of him standing here in front of me right now...

"It's been a while—"

"Almost ten years." I said, my eyes looking down, he had grown a lot of muscle over the years, and it seemed either he had a stylist or he now knew how to dress himself. Either way I guess is good.

"Yes, almost." 

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice was fast, and I knew it showed more emotion than I wanted.

"I was nominated, I won too. But I should be asking you the same question."

"Never mind that—it doesn't matter." I turned back to my drink taking a long sip.

Henry moved closer, my arm holding my head up the only barrier between him and his hot breath. "Why did you leave that day? I looked for you." His voice was deep, he was intending for only me to hear it. But the British accent, the deep sultry tone of his voice and his hot breath in my ear, it gave me serious goosebumps.

I cringe and pull away from his delicious voice, too close, way to close. I glanced at him, reading his face, he was buzzed that was for sure you could tell by the haze in his beautiful blue eyes. I glanced back at my drink, downing the rest of the orange smoked whiskey.

"Are you going to answer my question?" His eyes were drilling into me, I could feel it without even looking at him. "Nothing to answer" I waved over the bartender to get my fourth glass of the addicting poison. "Bullshit" He hissed— "I don't know what you want to hear Henry, I was on mission, you knew my name, where I was from, if the wrong person saw me with you, your life could've been in danger." Henry shook his head; he was obviously not happy with that answer. "Why tell me anything if you felt that way?"

I didn't answer that, while I knew the answer, I wasn't going to admit I felt content with Henry that day. The connection I felt then was still present, Henry was open and honest, he spoke his mind but was also mostly a gentleman while doing it. "Doesn't matter." Henry stood from leaning on the bar, his frame was large well over six foot tall his face cleanly shaven and his hair was just perfectly messed up, something my hazy eyes caught was the tinge of pinky nude lipstick on his lips.

He had a date.

Go figure.

Henry pressed his hand on my shoulder, and I froze, twirling around and grabbing his wrist tightly, "Something I've developed from the last time you saw me. I despise being touched." The sensation when someone touched me was overwhelming, it was like every nerve in my body was on fire and I felt the pain of being electrocuted all over again. I couldn't stand it, why did everyone feel the need to touch me. I threw his hand, it was rude, I know it was, but his gaze never changed while he was looking at me.

"I'm not the same person anymore." I started,

"I'm more broken then I once was, I have flashbacks, I don't sleep, and I fucking hate people"

"I don't even know what drugs I was on to make me want to start acting. I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree"

When I was undercover, the CIA would give me a new identity for every different mission I was on, every new name comes with new hobbies, new ways to think, new dress style, I never was myself and quite frankly I still now know nothing about who I am.

I'm lost and broken, and so far from being fixed or having a possibility being fixed.

"Henry! There you are, I was looking for you!" A blonde British female shouted causing my ears to ring. "Have fun" I said sarcastically, downing the rest of my drink.

"Let me get your number, we need to talk more." He asked frantic to pull out his phone.

"I'll pass, seems your too busy for a common distraction." I gestured to the blonde.

I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from the clutch and tipped the bartender that served me in my self-pity, leaving Henry standing frozen at the bar.

Unfortunately, the only exit to leaving this hell hole would make me pass by the bleach blonde mistress. I stopped beside the blonde, whispering in her ear. "Tara King, you surely do have your work set out for you."

I'll admit it was to intimidate her, while I knew her name, she didn't know mine, I just seemed like random crazy stalker that was hitting on her boyfriend. As I was walking off I saw Tom resting his hand on the wall breathing heavily, "Rhylan there you are—"

“I'm pissed" I said walking off. I had to get out of here, out of the hell that I called my life, the hell of seeing Henry again. The uber ride home was long and over drawn, luckily the driver didn't recognize me or try to make conversation which is something hard to come by lately.

Once I made it to my hotel room, I stripped off all the ridiculous clothes off the moment I closed the door, kicking off the pretty but uncomfortable boots and taking off every neckless Neila insisted on.

I made my way to the shower letting the burning hot water turn my skin bright red.

Pain.

I was so desensitized to it.

I sat one the fancy white couch just staring at the blank television, my life had changed so much over the years, when I was young, I hated change, I would run away from it.

Every part of my life had to be scheduled, when I ate, when I slept, what activities had to be planned out with people. Nothing could differ from my schedule but after the navy... everything changed.

The way I perceive the world changed, the average person doesn't realize how much evil is in the world, how much hate there is in the world. Corrupt officials, terrorists of all different races and nationalities, drug dealers...cartel, I could make a list. I turned on Dr. house watching the finale of season four where spoiler alert Dr. Wilson's soulmate dies.

I cried like a baby no joke.

I looked at the clock it was nearly three in the morning, I guess I better get some sleep, if any.

If only I knew what my future had in store for me.

[yr-obedt-cicero]

I've actually written many discussions about Alexander and his abnormal distance!

This one is about theorizing why he often left, and this one is about how James being favored over him might have been a cause.

Honestly, Alex comes across as being heavily insecure and trying to fulfill some sort of expectation he felt. Most of the eldest child attention was dotted onto Philip as he was the heir, and Alexander was constantly second-best to him. So, he was never prepared to become the man of the house or suddenly carry on the family mantle. Thus when Philip and Hamilton die not too long apart, and Alexander is pushed into the spot light as Angelica is suffering from her mental health; he is basically crowned the eldest son with all of the responsibilities and expectations that were originally placed on Philip.

Which is where his problem seems to be. He focused more on succeeding expectations as being Hamilton's son, rather than an older brother and caring for his family like he should have done. And he clearly had worth issues thinking if he didn't do what would have made his late father proud, then he wasn't good enough to be his father's son.

“In thankful remembrances for your kindness receive my most grateful thanks for assisting me to appear in society worthy of a Father whom providence in its dispensations rescued from the iniquity and temptations that [...] around, to guard his virtue and reward his labours; his example I hope may be the subject of my constant emulation and respect.”

(source — Alexander Hamilton Jr to Stephen van Rensselaer, [November 12, 1806])

So, why does he feel this deep empty hole that he isn't worth being Hamilton's son? Probably because James was constantly favored over him. Philip was understandable because he was the eldest, but James was younger. So Hamilton actively chose James over him instead of just going down the chain. And can you really imagine how that must have felt? Especially when his son's admired him more than anything, and valued and strived for his approval and acceptance throughout their lives. It was probably such a punch to the gut, it always haunted him that he tried his best in his military profession and political career to try and fit into Hamilton's shoes.

And maybe that is why he left James to care for their mother and siblings, because James was the more reliable and responsible one. And the ideology James could do better than he ever could deprived from his insecurity about Hamilton choosing James over him.

Now does that excuse him being insensitive and an asshole to his whole family? I really don't think so. James had to help his mother with financing and billing at such a young age, tutored his younger brother, and generally took care of everything because Alex had his head in the clouds about his legacy to really see the situation his family was in. And not to mention, he's running off and only ever came around when he wanted something. The family hadn't seen him in so long, and he comes around to demand an unreasonable amount from Holly's will, stole away with his father's documents that Holly was holding without any consent from the rest of the kids. And that was it! Like yeah, he had insecurities, but he was the shittiest towards his family.

Apparently Elizabeth wrote the “James is the favorite son” letter while living with Alex Jr.

Ouch...

[ouroborus-momento-mori]

Authors note - wow! I’m so blown away by the interest in my fic. This is my first attempt at fan fiction and a reader insert so please be gentle. It’s starting off a little slow but I really had to build where the reader is at in her life before we can really dive in. It’ll pick up in the next chapter which should be out before Sunday. Feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!

Corresponding Spotify: Destination Unknown

Link to AO3: Destination Unknown

Word count: 3,865

Find Chapter two - here.

Destination Unknown

Chapter One - The Long Drive

***

In your defence, you never meant to stay on the East Coast for this long. It started with you wanting to make a name for yourself, to get out from underneath your father’s shadow.

Almost a decade ago you moved out to Washington D.C. to start your university education at Georgetown University. One Bachelor of Arts degree and a Masters of Museum Studies later, you had earned your current position as Assistant Curator for Contemporary Military Aviation History at the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum.

You had a little help along the way with your father being an Admiral, but most people in this city had at least a little nepotism to help get them where they are.

You had certainly worked for it too, sacrificing countless nights out on the town, friendships, hell even your last relationship or two. All because you were addicted to the drive to do better. Be better. To work with the best. To be the best. To have people know you because of what you’ve accomplished on your own.

Not because of the last name that was gifted to you in your very first hours of existing.

Kazansky.

Your whole life you’ve had to bear the heavy weight of your name, and all the expectations and assumptions that came with it. It was both a blessing and a grievance. You loved your family dearly, but with the weight of your fathers rank and reputation you had grown up feeling smothered by it.

Your whole adolescent life you had felt pressure to enlist and rise through the ranks like your father. Your whole life you had dozens of people reminding you of how alike the two of you were. But that wasn’t what you wanted. It had nearly torn you apart in your senior year, having applied to civilian universities and the Naval Academy with your childhood best friend Bradley.

Ultimately you chose to move across the country to study as a civilian. Washington D.C. was safe enough as it allowed for plenty of visits with your parents when your father was sent for meetings at the nearby Pentagon or the White House. It also allowed for your father to keep close tabs on you, having plenty of connections in the city.

It hurt beyond belief at first to be so far away. But it got better with time. Over the past decade you have successfully built yourself a life of your own. Now at 29 you had an outstanding career, several publications and accreditations to your name, a well loved (albeit small and very expensive) apartment, and a fluffy black cat by the name of Merlin.

A loud sound interrupted your train of thought.

It was like your heart was ripped out of your chest when you heard your phone ringing, the blaring of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” signalling that it was your mother calling. You had been pacing your apartment all morning waiting for this. With a deep soothing breath, you picked up the phone.

“Mom?”

You heard a watery sob. “Oh honey. It’s even worse than we thought.”

You struggled to hold back tears. “How long do they think we have left with him?”

“Dr. Thompson says six months at best.” She inhaled another breath, you could hear her trying to hold back her cries. “Your father and I had a talk last night. We really want you home sometime soon. Now preferably. We just want to hold you again, have a few months with the family all together again. You think you’ll be able to make it?”

You had known this was coming for a while now. This past Christmas your father had started to show some signs of his failing health. Coughing up blood. Trying to hide it. Blaming his hoarse throat on all the talking he does. Or that it was a simple head cold. After urging him to get tests done, you had to pack up and leave sunny California for the East Coast once again.

When you had returned in January you submitted an exhibition proposal to your Director, centering around wanting to tell the unheard stories of contemporary elite naval aviators and their amazing accomplishments. You mainly wanted something that would allow you to move back to the west coast for several months, so you could be close to your family without having to give up your career.

With a couple months worth of check ups and tests on your fathers end, and a series of tweaking and resubmitting proposals and outlines on your end - you finally got the stamp of approval. Not only were they letting you curate your first solo exhibition, but they were also giving you a grant so you could publish a book to correspond with it.

The project would allow you to spend several months with your family. Splitting your time between the nearby naval aviators school for research in their archives and the command bases surrounding town where your family still resides.

“Yes. I’ll be home soon. I just need to get things situated. One of my colleagues will sublease my apartment while I’m gone. I’m taking Merlin with me.” You sighed into the phone, gazing across the apartment.

Merlin was lounging outstretched in the sun, absentmindedly pushing your papers around on your desk. He mewled at you when he noticed your attention. He plopped down and subsequently started pawing at the cupboard where you kept his treats.

“Oh goody… I can’t wait to meet my only grand-fur baby. He looks so soft in all those photos you send of him. I think he would really help your father too. Might soothe him, you know? I think it would do him some good. Petting Merlin and all.” She was rambling. She did this when her anxiety was flaring up.

“Mom. Will you be okay until next week? I’m going to drive home, it would be easier to pack everything into the car.”

“Yes, just get here as soon as you can, okay? I- We need you… Your father needs you here. Just come home soon. We all miss you.”

“I love you, mom. Tell dad and the boys I love them too. I’ll text you when I leave here on Friday.” You took a shuddering breath. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too, honey. Your dad and your brothers do as well. You know that. We’ll see you soon.”

Immediately after your mother hung up you fired off a text to your two brothers, making sure they knew they could call or text you should they need any help. And to make sure they would take all the housework and cooking off your mom’s to do list. She had enough on her plate right now looking after your father.

You fired off a text to your father too, trying to express to him how much you loved him and how you were looking forward to seeing him and spending time with him.

***

You spent the next day packing everything into your old ‘69 baby blue Ford Bronco, a car you had fixed up in high school with your father, his friend (your would-be uncle, really) Pete, and your childhood friend Bradley.

You went into your office too, picking up some last minute essentials and saying farewells to your colleagues. You would be seeing a few of them in a few months when they flew out to collect the objects you’re going to be gathering for your exhibition.

Amelia, one of your best friends and colleagues, had agreed to sublease your apartment while you’re gone. She had recently broken off her engagement to her unfaithful fiancé. You gave her a more than fair price, and offered her the entire place to try to mend her broken heart.

You left a bouquet of flowers, several bottles of wine, a nice bottle of whiskey, an assortment of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer, and your infamous collection of cheesy RomComs for her to revel with while you were away.

Looking around you tried to spot the little (large) fluff ball that lived (thought he owned) in your apartment with you.

“Pstpstpst… Merlin! Come here, you absolute rascal.” You scooped Merlin up, his black fur flying into the air. He was a massive cat, you were pretty certain he had Maine Coone genetics somewhere in him. You had named him after one of your father’s friends callsign.

Placing Merlin in his carrier and heading to your door, you took one last look around your apartment. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but this pit that resided in your stomach made you feel like this was the closing of a chapter for you. You shoved that thought away. No time to think of that now. Your family needed you.

***

You sent off a quick text to your mom, and just like that you were off on a cross country journey.

You silently thanked god your pay was decent, the sheer amount of gas you would need for this trip was stupidly astronomical.

With a few stops across the country to rest at pet friendly motels, you had finally made it to California in just under a week.

You decided to stop first at the US Navy’s Fighter Weapons School, Top Gun (as literally every naval aviator referred to it as in your youth), to drop off your research materials and hordes of guide and reference books.

Laughing gently, you couldn’t stop yourself from gazing at the school instead of the road ahead.

Holy shit, you thought. Where did the time go?

You had spent an absurd amount of time here as a kid growing up. You definitely didn’t have a normal childhood.

Pulling in, you started off loading everything you needed. Merlin started mewling from his carrier.

“You need the litter box, sweetheart? Just a moment, let mommy do this first.” You grumbled trying to haul everything you needed out. Getting frustrated with the weight of it all, you just dropped your boxes on the ground. Poor sweet little Merlin needed your attention. You hooked up his harness and his leash. Carrying him over to the surprisingly green grass next to the parking lot.

“Holy mother of god! Is that you, Kazansky?! The boss man told me you’d be making your way here again. Thought he was fibbing.”

Swirling around you had to lift your hand up to shield your eyes against the blinding sun.

“I really don’t think this is the best place to be letting your scruff-ball of a cat take a shit.” The blurry figure said.

Straining your eyes, you could just barely make out the face that was coming toward you. You could never forget that voice though, considering he was one of the pilots who practically raised you here on base.

“Solomon Bates. How’ve you been?” You couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across your face. This was the first of many reunions you had to look forward to. Or in some (one) case, dread.

You rushed over, dragging Merlin behind you, to hug the man.

“I’ve been good, kid. Better now that you’re here. Your father has us all worried, not that you should ever tell him that. He’d whoop all our asses if he ever heard such a thing.” You both let out barking laughs. You were thankful for Warlock’s sense of humour.

“I know. Dad won’t let any of us worry over him. His pride is still just as strong as it was when he first started at this Academy, I’m sure of it.”

“Ahh you gotta give the man some credit. He didn’t get to where he is today without having a strong will and sense of who he is. His sense of pride has been well earned. You and your mother will have to use some of that charm you have, get him to rest and take it easy.”

You gave the man a small smile, “We’ll do our best, don't you worry about that.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Now,” He glared down at your cat, then swung his gaze over towards your Bronco. “I’m going to take a guess. You’re gonna need help with those boxes?”

“That would actually be amazing, Bates.” He laughed as he saw you let out a sigh, you let out a small chuckle too. It was a huge relief knowing you wouldn’t have to carry them all on your own.

You placed Merlin back in his carrier, rolling down the windows to let the wind run through the vehicle.

Bates helped you carry in the boxes leading you down the familiar halls you used to haunt as a kid.

You arrived at an all too familiar door. Your father’s old office, the one away from home and his previous office before his time at fleet command.

“You guys never gave this space to some other poor paper-pushing Admiral?” You had to admit, you were quite surprised. You used to spend time here as a kid reading or doodling. Your father would take you into work to hang out with the other naval aviators children.

The kids were almost always taken here when their fathers wanted to give their mothers a well earned break and they simultaneously needed to catch up on some paperwork or reading.

“Nah. Your dad’s always been welcome here, we never wanted him to leave in the first place. This complex has got so many rooms we figured we could leave this one be. Now it's yours for the next, what? Several months or so?”

“Give or take. Hopefully give. I don’t want to wish any time away.” You grimaced. That came out awkward. You still weren’t used to the impending, well… whatever would be coming down the line for you and your family.

“I know, kid. I know.” He nodded. “Now… time to let the old memories come alive, hey?” He flung open the door to your fathers old office and sauntered in.

You took a deep breath before following him in, your eyes scanning the room. Just like you remembered it. There was a grand oak desk to the far left with a leather executive chair at its helm. The rest of the room was occupied by dozens of photos from years long gone, grand bookshelves holding trophies, awards and books. There was also a long oval oak conference table, with several leather chairs seated. Everything was painted in dark moody tones, common to old officers clubs built during the Second World War.

When you were younger and first started getting into history and myths, you would often refer to your father as King (Admiral) Arthur and at his table would be the fabled knights (officers) of the round table.

You and Bates both dropped your boxes onto the large oval table. You would set up your work space at a later date.

You glanced at Bates as he meandered around the office to stop in front of your fathers old desk, picking up a photo that had a layer of dust. He wiped it off with his hand.

“You know… I can still remember this day like it was yesterday.” He hummed a smile, eyes twinkling at you.

You narrowed your eyes, having a sneaking suspicion at what photo he has taken up. You walked over and playfully snatched it out of his hands, glancing down at it for yourself.

Sure enough, you had guessed correctly. The photo was of a young freshman year pair, you and your old friend Bradley. You were both covered in silly string, laughing your asses off at the mess the two of you had caused.

Bates had been the man behind the camera that fateful day, and had taken glee in also capturing your frantic mother in the back of the photo. She had been desperate to clean you both up in time for the family photo, a yearly tradition the entire staff had at the weapons school here.

You smiled and took the photo over to the wall with dozens more, holding it up to the photo with dozens of figures all smiling and dressed in their Sunday best. If you looked closely enough, you could spot both you and Bradley in the front.

Both your white sundress and his white shirt had been stained from the silly string. Just above you was your father, your mother, Bradley’s mother, and your all but blood related uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.

They were all holding in a laugh at how the two of you looked, dishevelled and stained, even after both your mom’s had tried desperately to clean you up for the photo. Still to this day no one had any idea where the two of you had gotten the silly string. That was a secret you and Bradley had pinky sworn to never tell. You always kept your promises.

“You two used to have so much fun together.” Bates mused, smiling to himself, his eyes glazed over in memories.

“Whatever happened to your friendship? You two ever stay in touch after you, uh, picked up and left?” You snapped out of your smile, turning your eyes to look at him.

“That, uh, came out wrong. Sorry” Bates grimaced. No shit, Warlock you thought to yourself.

“We, um, lost touch with each other.” You tried to find a way to phrase it for him. “After he found out he had been rejected from the Naval Academy, I decided to forge my own path. The civilian route. So… I moved to Washington.”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts.

“Bradley… I think he took it hard. The Academy was the only thing he wanted to do after graduation. He didn’t have any other plans. He’s a smart guy, he had all the right grades. He had all the right extra curriculars. Hell, he even had the legacy with Goose being a graduate. It’s always been a mystery to everyone why he got rejected.”

You took a breath, glancing at Bates. He nodded with a soft smile, urging you to continue.

“We saw each other a few times after I left, but it was never, uh, really the same. I guess we just grew apart.” Your mouth twisted around the words awkwardly. You knew why it was never the same, not that you would ever tell Bates this.

How would you ever go about telling, well, anyone that you had hooked up with and lost your virginity to your childhood best friend the night before leaving for the other side of the country for four years? Four years that had now turned into ten.

“I tried to reach out to him after his mother had passed away. It was right when I was finishing my end of term exams… I wasn’t able to make it to the funeral. He never replied to any of my messages or the package and letter I sent him.” Bates was openly looking at you now, he had a neutral expression on his face. You could tell though, he was trying to get a read on what you were feeling.

“I, um. I took it to mean he probably didn’t want to hear from me. After a couple months of trying to reach out to him then, I haven’t spoken to him since. It’s been years now since I’ve seen or heard from him.” You glanced down at your hands, the photo still in them, picking at your nails to avoid his gaze.

“Do you miss him?” Your eyes immediately swung back up to meet his gaze. What?

“What?” You blurt out, having to take a moment to actually speak the phrase.

“Do you miss him? The two of you grew up together. All of us older folk thought your bond was unbreakable. Hell I mean…” He trailed off, glancing back to the photo now forgotten in your hand. He gently took the frame in his putting it on the table, facing the two of you. “To be honest most of us thought the two of you would be married by now, having popped out half a dozen kids.”

Your face was bright red. You felt like you might actually melt into the ground now at this very moment.

Thankfully, Bates let out a barking laugh and slapped the table. “Holy shit, Kazansky. I wish I had a mirror to show you your face right now.”

You laughed along with him, clearly embarrassed.

He took one last look at the old photo, grinning.

“I gotta get back to work now, it’s soon time to head off for the day. Louise is making some kind of stir fry for dinner. She’s on some kind of health kick or another. You’ll have to drop by sometime. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to see you again, and to hear all your sure-to-be swanky tales from the Capitol.” He smiled and nodded to you.

“Here’s the keys to the office. I hope you get at least a fraction of use out of this old office as your old Iceman did. I’m sure with the looks of those books you got there it won’t be an issue for you.” He turned as he was heading out the door, a devious smirk on his face.

“Oh, and don’t ever let me catch you allowing your cat take a shit on my perfect green grass again. Or else I’ll be calling over my favourite drill sergeant to get you to do an asinine amount of pushups, just like any other recruit here would.” He gave you a cheeky wink and then he was off on his way.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his back, your smile returning as you looked down.

You picked up the photo frame one more time, looking to the base of it. On the bottom in your father’s handwriting there was a small written inscription “The fox and her rooster.” You returned the photo to its proper home on your father’s old desk.

You took one last glance around the rooms before leaving and locking the door, heading for the outside once more.

Once arriving at your well loved Ford Bronco, you made sure to check up on Merlin once more. He was happily taking a nap in the warm sun, it was the end of February so the heat hadn’t really started yet.

You sighed as you got into the driver's seat, flipping on the AC and flipping through your CD collection to find what you were looking for. The downside of your vintage beauty was that there was no bluetooth or plug in for your phone. You didn’t mind it though. It added to its charm.

Windows rolled all the way down and your hair thrown up in a claw clip, you put your aviators back on shielding your eyes from the glare of the sun on the road. Popping in your Journeys Frontiers CD, belting your heart out to the music as you started down the drive to the place you once called home. A place where if you’re being honest, your heart still longed for.

I’ll be there soon.

Tag list: @n3ssm0nique @linkedwiththemusic @wonderlandlovelove @serrendiipty @hockeyboysarehot @blossomreed @in-themountains @levylovegood

[aschlindartroom]

Fluffy Facts Tag Game

Tagged by @tryingtimi! Thanks so much.

Rules: List 5 or more cute or wholesome facts about your WIP, either events that happen or worldbuilding details or the like! Then tag some people you'd like to see do the game, too!

Second Serpent is notably lacking fluff for the most part, but there is definitely some light in the dark. *pops knuckles* Let's get crackin!

The H.O.U.N.D.s may be Schmidt & Foster's private political assassination squad, but during the Reconstruction (after the war), some of them were assigned to accompany the "Riders." These were specially selected military personnel who were sent to all corners of the earth in search of the last humans, acting as peacekeepers to offer a final refuge in New London. The H.O.U.N.D.s, with their special abilities, assisted these Riders by reading minds to break language barriers, liberating slaves, and providing support. There are many cultures that would have been lost after the closing of the dome without them. The H.O.U.N.D.s may be a tool, but they have been a tool occasionally used for good.

Martin and Eckehart, despite how dark the political B-Plot of Second Serpent becomes, are a huge source of fluff and giggles. They start their story as two very different people who are thrown together under strange circumstances. They open up, learn to trust each other, and after a 10-year slow burn and a lot of growth, they fall stupidly ridiculously in love. A scene with them is always bound to be either funny, aw-inducing, or heart-wrenching. Good chemistry, these two.

At its core, Second Serpent is a story about a group of emotionally isolated people learning to care about each other and themselves, even when it comes with the risk of being hurt. And it's about chasing ideals even when it seems hopeless. In a world that feels so very, very dark, the desire to be close and to be happy are never far away.

During the NWW, the sacking of museums and decimating of civilizations led to a 2nd Dark Age. And so, one of the most lucrative careers in New London is being a "Librarian." They are the well-read, historically-learned sages of the new world, who catalog and restore any piece of the old world they can find. Studious and life-long learners, this profession is grueling and tedious, but for their effort, they are HANDSOMELY paid. At the time that the story starts, The Librarian Society for Restoration has just published its 97th volume of their "world history" series, which is a very thorough accounting of major events as they know them.

In a later book, Seung will be pseudo-adopting a pair of psychic children. One of Seung's big arcs is shedding her hero worship of her father and finding her own way of living. Though she will never be their mother, by taking care of them, Seung has a chance to see a different way of parenting. Learning to be soft and affectionate rather than hard and exacting-- to extend a hand in comfort rather than a fist in anger.

Edit: WHOOPS. Almost forgot to tag people. Let's see... @valkyrie-the-bogwitch, @dgwriteblr, @andromeda-rising-897, @lunarmoment

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 2

You're a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

Chapter 2 here we go! Things will be angsty first before we get to the gritty stuff.

2.8K Word Count

Chapter 2: We're Hiding Like A Shadow In The Dark

“I’m sure that she needs no introduction, but Y/N, this is Mrs. Johansson. She has asked for the most private security firm around, and a close friend of hers is familiar with your work. You came highly recommended.” Your boss raised his eyebrow as he spoke. You nodded, before breaking your eye contact with the green eyed actress seated 10 feet away from you. You briefly glanced at Kris, who smirked in your direction before opening the file placed in front of her and grabbing a pen from her bun. She was definitely biting her tongue, knowing your affinity for gorgeous blondes and how much you flaunt. 

“Fine. Let’s get started then.” You look over to the newest assistant your supervisor has hired, who was obviously nervous and shaking where she stood. She held the controller for the projector on the ceiling, to which there was a slideshow that your bosses had ready to go. “This poor thing, she’ll only last a week, she looks like she’s right out of high school…” You thought to yourself as you gave her a simple once over. Your gaze slowly shifted over the room, passing over Kris, who was smirking again, and passing over her, your boss, your supervisor, the lead for the security team you over saw, and a few others before landing on Scarlett again. She must’ve felt a hole being bored into the back of her head, as she subtly turned her head, peering just slightly over her shoulder- just enough to notice you staring. You quickly broke your gaze and went back to watching the power point. 

“Mrs. Johansson, it sounds like these areas here are your largest concerns. Is that correct?” You ask her as you have been handed the remote to take over the power point on the screen at the end of the board room. You recall that she is married, but notice quickly she does not wear a ring. 

“Please, call me Scarlett. But yes, those are my biggest concerns.” She says in her signature raspy voice, a smile playing at the corner of her lips as she spoke to you. You nod, acknowledging her as you continue through the security plan for her new house, including building in the infrastructure to allow for her to run her business from home, and not worry about cyber threats. It was all pretty basic to you, and you couldn’t fathom why they had tasked you with this- regardless of who asked for you. But you went with it for now, you were going to corner Paul, your supervisor, later to find out why you were on such a menial task. 

After about two hours of back and forth, confirming details and ensuring all the figures were correct as originally planned, everyone shook hands and filed out of both the doors that led out of the board room. Scarlett was the last to approach you, as you were talking to the man who had been seated next to her throughout the meeting, whom you found out was her head of security, Ray. You were confirming some small details as she walked up and gave you a small smile, and nodded to Ray before he shook your hand and walked away. He walked away too far for your comfort, as someone who worked security knows- you never go far. 

“I’m sorry for troubling you with this, but Stevie recommended your work, and I have had some terrifying things happening of late, hence why I am moving and updating my security.” Scarlett held her hand out for you to shake, which you grabbed onto firmly. You looked her up and down, noting the tall black Louboutins and all black suit she was dressed to the nines in. Her hair was cut shorter, up around her shoulders, and laser straight. You tried not to gawk too much, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Ahh, that’s who opened their mouth about me. I’ll have to put them in their place when I see them next.” You state with no emotion, and Scarlett’s face drops. 

“No, it wasn’t bad! I swear, it was all good things. She loved what you were able to do for her, and told me a little bit of your background. I hope you don’t mind…”

“No, no. Not at all.” You quickly cut her off with a small small, before telling her to have a good day, again grabbing onto her thin, soft hand, shaking it to bid her good bye. “God, her hand is soft… wait, stop it Y/N” you found yourself chastising yourself as you turned around and walked towards the elevator. You poked at the up button, waving for the tell tale ding that the carriage had arrived. You quickly turned around, and held the door open while pointing at Paul, before upturning your and and curling your finger, indicating that you wanted him to come with you. His eyes briefly widened, and he bid the small group of people he was talking to goodbye before jogging over to the elevator, and you let the door close before you spoke, filling the elevator with an awkward silence. He always acted so intimidated around just you, which was so ironic considering him being your supervisor. 

“What. The. Fuck. ” you turned to him with a cold glare, punctuating every word to emphasize your frustration, and telling him to give you answers. 

“What?! I have to do what big boss man asks! When this came across his desk, I tried to tell him that we didn’t need this kind of work, we were fine with the contract work within the military- but he demanded that we do it. I told him someone else could do it!” He looked, honestly terrified to be trapped on the elevator with you, and visibly relaxed as the door opened to your floor. 

“I can’t even delegate this shit. He has it written in the contract that I HAVE to be on site for all of this. What the hell is going on?! Do I not have better things to be doing, other than guarding some A-List crybabies Calabasas crib from paparazzi and stalkers while soldiers are putting their lives on the line that I should be looking out for?!” You yell as you approach your office. You swiftly spun on your heel, before coming almost nose to nose with your immediate supervisor. “I really hope that taking on this project doesn’t cost someone ELSE their life.” You snarl before turning back around, whipping the door open to your office, and leaving a very dazed Paul standing in the hallway. “This is absolute bullshit, and a waste of time.” You tell yourself, but thankfully, this project should only take a few months. It’ll be over soon. 

You pulled out the phone in your pocket, quickly scrolling thought the list of contacts, before selecting one and calling them. 

“Stevie.”

“Y/N.”

“Why’d you open your mouth?” You ask, cluing your ex into why you were calling. 

“So it's true, she did reach out. I knew she would, but I wasn’t sure it would work.” You could practically see her smirk through the phone. 

“What did you tell her?” You weren’t in the mood for this, not with how work had been going for you lately. She laughed, and took a deep breath before choosing how to put her next sentence together.

“She and I have been working together on some things for the branding of her new project, and she mentioned some of what has been happening in her free time. She has a valid right to be scared, from what she has told me. I told her that I knew some people in security, maybe one of them could help.”

“Bullshit. What else did you say?” You spat over the phone. You hated her meddling in everything work related- that and she never seemed to be able to keep her legs shut, which is why you were no longer together. Trying to sneak in and out of a security exec’s house is easier said than done. She proved that. 

“Whoa, calm it! You can thank me later. She asked which of the people I recommended to her I would trust the most. I told her the truth. You may have been a lousy fucking girlfriend, but you were damn good at your job. I never had to question my safety with you, that’s for damn sure.” You rolled your eyes at her statement, irritated that she would bring up what you did for work, when she knew that it wasn’t ok, and you had told her not to multiple times. 

“Once again, I will tell you to stop. Stop telling people what I do for work, and for that matter, please, just quit talking about me to other people. We’re not together, you guaranteed that. Leave me alone.” You leaned forward in your chair, putting your forehead into your fingers, rubbing back and forth- irritated you had to have this conversation. You hadn’t realized the Kris had slipped into your office, but when you hung up the phone call, you slammed it onto your desk, causing her to yelp. “Sorry, didn’t know you were in here. ” You state flatly, no emotion behind your words. 

“Lemme guess, you had to talk to Stevie?” Kris asked, walking towards you slowly, knowing that your stress level always went through the roof at the sheer mention of your ex, not to mention a full conversation. Kris never liked Stevie, and you knew it. She calmly put her hand on your back, rubbing it slightly before stepping in front of you. She leaned down, and pulled your chin up. “Paul said to go ahead and leave for the day, they only needed you here for the initial meeting. Go and get some rest. Come back in a couple of days.” She looked at you, giving you a small smile before she dropped your chin and walked away, turning her head to look back over her shoulder to steal one more look at you. You were now standing, looking out the window of your office, oblivious to the fact. 

You debated on staying and working a little bit more, but knew that if Paul or Kris found out, you would likely be strung up by your toes. You briefly sat at your desk, sending a few emails, and setting it up so that all your emails would forward to Kris and Paul, so if anything important came across they could handle it. You shut the laptop in front of you, and leaned back in your chair, lacing your fingers in front of you, tapping your fingertips on the backs of your hands,  debating on if you wanted to drive or fly. You needed to go home, as much as you hated to admit that Kris was right. 

You fiddled around in your desk drawer, finally grabbing the keys you wanted, and stood up, throwing away the empty coffee cup on your desk, and then grabbing your blazer, slinging it over your shoulder, and walking out the door of your office, locking the door behind you and turning to the elevator, pushing the button to head down to the garage. You’d take your baby home today, but first, you had to stop at the apartment and grab some things. You cruised down the 40+ floors, to the underground parking garage. Various people came and went on the elevator, but you met them with radio silence.

Once the doors parted, you were met with a sea of cars, all of them were various levels of prominence. You knew the owner drove the very first car outside of the elevator, because god forbid he walk, but also because it was one of the more expensive cars in the garage. You reached down to grab the curvy, car shaped key fob that belonged to your vehicle, and beeped it twice, remote starting it. As you stalked towards it, you smirked at the joy of hearing the car gave you. You had always wanted it, and you made sure to get the exact one you wanted. As you turned the corner in the garage, your baby was parked all alone, lights glaring and engine rumbling, awaiting your arrival. You unlocked the car, and walked around to the passenger side, throwing your jacket on the seat before stalking back over to the drivers side, slinging yourself into the chocolate brown leather interior. You smirked at the crest on the steering wheel, gliding your hands all over it before pulling the seatbelt on and placing the car in drive. As you pulled out of your spot, you smiled at the rumble of the Porsche responding to your foot. 

You ripped out of the parking garage, nodding at the security guard by the exit before peeling out onto the streets of Los Angeles. You always hated how packed it was here, so you were definitely going to get to your apartment before traffic got too bad. As you were leaving, you noticed a black caravan of SUV’s parked alongside the street in front of your building. You knew that you had the only meeting today, so you were wondering what was going on, as they looked like the Secret Service’s standard issue. You quickly hit a familiar number on the navigation of your car, the sound of a  dial tone ringing in your ears as your car called the office. 

“What, Y/L/N?” Kris answered, hinting that you shouldn’t be calling her.

“What’s going on today? There’s a caravan out front.”

“Shouldn’t you be on your way home? Don’t worry about what’s going on here, go rest.” She snarked. 

“Hey now, that is no way to talk to your boss. I am on my way, but I want to know what is going on.“ You respond, irritated that she won’t tell you, when she knows something, judging by her response. It’s like she forgot you spent years in Verbal and Physical Language training, which made it impossible for you to hold a conversation with someone without being able to tell if someone is lying, or scared, or mad. You hated it, sometimes. It was a tool you couldn’t shut off. 

“Just leave it be, Y/N. Go relax.” She said, a slight twinge of irritation in her voice, before she hung up on you. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “That’s just rude.” You tell yourself, before selecting a song and turning up the volume to the car’s radio.  You bobbed and weaved expertly in the LA traffic, arriving at your apartment in record time. You parked the car out front, quickly getting out and stalking towards the front door to your shack. You had always been a little bit of a playgirl, and you were never really fond of traipsing every late night foray to your relaxing mountain abode, so you kept a basic apartment in a middle class part of the San Fernando valley. It also made for a convenient way of letting family stay at your apartment while you worked, so you could avoid them as much as possible.

You dug the keys out of your pocket, swiftly unlocking your front door, before swinging the door open to reveal a stark interior, where you kept the basics. You kept a work wardrobe here, some clothes to relax in, and some clothes to go out in, but not much more than that. But you had made the decision to fly out to McCall late last night, so you had left your duffel with everything you wanted sitting on the bed. You quickly shoveled a few extra things into the bag, zipping it, and then checking all the windows and doors before shutting everything off and exiting the apartment. You quickly logged into your phone and armed your security system, and then walked away towards your car. 

The cement colored machine beeped as you approached it, opening the rear hatch to throw your bag into it. You stalked back around to your door, opening it and sliding inside. Looking outside, you noticed someone lurking on the corner across from your apartment wearing a black hoodie, with a black backpack on. You rolled down your window, looking directly at the creep, before they finally walked the other way. You started the car, quickly driving off in the direction that the wierdo had walked in. You found the offender, who made the mistake of turning around again to face you, now that you were closer. You took a photo with your phone, before speeding off, and towards the highway.  You were certainly glad you had privacy tint on all your cars, and you made sure that you were always aware of your surroundings. Something in your gut told you that guy didn’t belong. You sent the photo to Kris, asking her to find out who it was, as you were sure that you’d cross paths again. You approached the northbound on ramp, and floored the gas pedal, allowing the vehicle to do what it was meant to do. You wanted to make this the shortest drive home possible, even though it would still be a half day drive. 

(CHAPTER 3)

[avictimofthejazz]

Working at the Los Angeles Courier had not been Face’s first plan. In fact, it had not even been in his top twenty. But he, admittedly, is in a bit of a pickle. While the military had lauded his skills during the war, the ability to acquire anything he wanted whenever he wanted it alongside a dash of knowing how to kill people from a mile away does not lead to many legitimate post-war career choices.     He thought about dabbling in the illegitimate side of life, but quickly dismissed it. At the very best, he could be a con-artist scamming people out of money to fund his own lifestyle. At the worst, he would filter to the bottom of the pack, and become something reprehensible. It seemed the best options that way was being an gunrunner, a human trafficker, or a drug dealer—three professions he wanted nothing to do with. But with one year’s worth of a Bachelors for Business Administration, and a Minor in Accounting under his belt before he dropped out, Face can hardly use that to his advantage. He knows he could return to school and finish his degree, but he is reluctant to take that path either. A lot of guys from Vietnam were planning on going into college when they got home. There are only a few old friends from the Army that he wants to run into regularly, and he loathes the idea of accidentally getting stuck in class with someone he hates. Maybe he will go back in a few years when the glut passes, but for now he intends to stay away. As a man who came dangerously close to failing high school English though, a writing-based career has never even entered onto his radar. He had gone to the newspaper merely to inquire about an accounting position behind the scenes, but somehow found himself routed up to the Editor’s office. Never a man to let an opportunity slide, he made the most of the miscommunication, and landed himself a position as an intern. Face supposes it makes sense—given the general borderline-Communist tripe the paper keeps turns out, being an expert in writing and argumentation is likely not high on Mr. Eldridge’s list of qualifications for his employees. Even as he finishes finalizing everything with his new boss, receiving his start time and an assignment, Face cannot help noting that Mr. Eldridge is a bit… gleeful about hiring him. Almost disconcertingly so… but Face has little time to dwell on that. He returns at the time, even remembering to include the glasses he wore the first day he came to the paper. Once he is settled in, if he chooses to stay, he will claim he transitioned to contacts at some point. For now, the glasses add the appropriate touch of ‘nerdiness’ needed for his position. The fact that Murdock jokingly called him ‘Clark Kent’ this morning is merely filed away for review at another time. When Face shows up in Eldridge’s office, the man is still quite delighted to see him, and quickly points out the reporter he will be assisting. Amy Allen. Face vaguely recalls seeing her name attached to a few articles in the back pages of the paper, and a passing comment that she was one of the few worthwhile writers that the paper had on staff. But he gave her no more thought then that. Now, crossing the busy newsroom to her desk, he wishes that he had. Maybe then he would have been better prepared to face the pretty brunette diligently staring at a half-typed page in her typewriter. Face comes to a stop by her desk as she pulls out her paper, and starts studying it. Only after she has read the sentence does she realize someone has joined her, and she looks up at him. Face’s first coherent thought as soon as he recovers is that she has gorgeous eyes. His second is that she has remarkable enunciation for a woman with a pencil clamped between her teeth. Opening his mouth to explain himself, Miss Allen beats him to the punch. Removing the pencil, she gives him directions to Eldridge’s office, where he has just come from.

Tapping down on his instinct to flirt, something he feels will not befit the persona he is creating here, Face offers his hand instead. “I just came from Mr. Eldridge’s office, actually. Templeton Peck—I’m the new intern. Mr. Eldridge told me that I’m assigned to you. You are Miss Allen, aren’t you?”

The Trouble with Interns:

@avictimofthejazz (that verse we talked about the other night where Henry Allen breathes down Eldridge's back to get Amy protection on the job, and Face is the latest in a long stream of interns)

A wooden Ticonderoga #2 is wedged between clenching teeth and her fingers hover pensively above the keys on her typewriter. The phrasing felt too saccharine to convey the desired point. Her boss would can the story without reading past the opening sentence. A swift unwitting glance up at the time clock reminds Amy that the article is due by the end of the day or Eldridge is going to chew her out again. She tenses, a huff pushes between her parted lips. If that irritating intern, Coby Markham, hadn't interfered, she might have had this and the other investigatory article done.

Running a hand through her hair wistfully, she plucks a few more keys and then rips out the page to examine the new wording. It's better, but not perfect. A shadow startles her from her pursuit of another pertinent sentiment...

"Can I help you?" She presses around the pencil still in her mouth. "I'm really kinda busy ---" Comes her soft follow up. Amy finally removes the pencil from it's perch. "If you're looking for the editor, his office is all the way across the room, on your right. You can't miss it."

[thelooneytoon]

Forged in Gunfire: A Rogue (2020) Fic

Chapter One

Masterlist

Introduction and Cast List

Ultimate Masterlist!

~ "Never fight fair-- that's not how you win. Use every dirty trick you can, Expect pain. Expect to get hurt. If you're surprised by the pain, you just lost." ~ -James Patterson

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*Unedited and written at like 2am*

Lorelei and Sam met when the captain had still been in the Marines, Lorelei being the medic assigned to Sam's squadron. She hadn't liked the blue eyed woman at first, Samantha O'Hara was hard. She still is, but even more so then. She'd been emotionless, a woman forged into a weapon. The things she's seen, the things she's done, they messed her up. But when Lorelei broke through that stony, 'mission first' exterior, she was quick to fall in love.

Sam O'Hara is the perfect spokeswoman for a strong woman in a male dominated field. She commands men with the same ease that she shoots them down. And, despite them having left the Marines, she continues to do so. Her team is well known throughout the world of mercenaries. You need something done that your military won't or can't do? Call O'Hara. She'll get it done... for a price.

Lorelei O'Hara neé Williams, isn't one you would expect to find in the middle of the roughest of situations with bullets whizzing over her head and a gun strapped to her back. She hadn't intended for this to be the direction her career went in when she went to medical school. When she was young she would always imagine working in a hospital, helping your everyday joe and maybe falling in love with an attractive coworker. But, at some point, that vision changed. A recruitment officer showed up at her university one day with an offer she'd have been stupid to refuse and next thing she knows she finds herself being put through bootcamp and taught how to treat injuries she never would have encountered in your typical hospital.

Sam O'Hara's squadron was Lorelei’s first assignment- talk about throwing someone into the deep end. These soldiers were some of the best of the best, and they were only brought in when the situation became impossible. It was hard, she gained and then lost friends, people she considered family, despite the fact that she'd tried her hardest to save them. She can only do so much, she knows that, but that knowledge doesn't assuage the guilt. She'd thought about leaving more than once, getting a job away from the guns and the war and the danger. But at the same time she loves the adrenaline and, more than that, she loves Sam. She'll follow her anywhere, and she proved so when Sam left the Marines and began working as a mercenary, a job that is a bit more profitable- or a lot more profitable- and Lorelei had gone with her.

And that's how she ended up here, crouching in the trees with Sam and her group of highly trained soldiers, guys she now considers her friends despite the rough start. They hadn't exactly appreciated it when Sam had shown up and been instated as their captain. It's easy to label a woman as a bitch, as cold, when if she had a dick between her legs those same men would've admired her for the same traits. Sam had handled it with ease, an ease Lorelei certainly didn't have. She'd been furious, and only not wanting to undermine Sam's authority in front of her men had held her tongue. The respect had come, eventually, and a bond had formed. Now the two O'Hara women trusted these men with their lives, a necessary trust in their line of work.

Normally, Lorelei would be waiting with the extraction team, but she'd been given strict instructions to be on site to provide the governor's daughter with any immediate medical assistance she might need. From what Sam has told her about this group of men, it's likely she'll need it. So here she sits, resting on her knees in tan cargo pants, a green tank top, a camo bullet proof vest, and beige boots, with her dark hair in a ponytail and a heavy bag of medical equipment slung across her back. She can remember the first time she'd ever had to go into the field- this bag had felt so heavy then. Now, she can lift it, wear it, and run with it with ease. She almost doesn't even feel it anymore.

She looks around, taking in Barasa, Pata, Elijah (who is her wife's best friend even if she won't admit it), Nuru and Sam. They're hiding amongst the trees, tucked behind the chain link fence that runs along the perimeter of the insurgents' stronghold. Bo and Joey are across the way, scopes focused on the men ambling around the buildings, prepared to act as back up as needed. They'd laid the plan out on the drive in and Sam's already told her that she needs to try and stay in the middle of the group so they can make sure she's safe. And, while it's frustrating to be the weak link of the group, she knows she provides a necessary service and that they'd all be dead a hundred times over if not for her. Besides, she's a trained soldier too. While maybe not as proficient or deadly as her compatriots, she can handle herself if it comes down to it.

Sam's been overly protective since they first started getting along, long before they fell in love and even longer before they got married. Back then she'd claimed it was because enemies always went for the medics and they needed to keep her safe, now she doesn't bother so much with the excuses, even if her need to keep her wife safe is just the same. Lorelei smiles faintly, some things never change no matter how much time passes.

She watches as Elijah moves away, probably to go check the charges and make sure they're ready to blow at a moment's notice, and she shuffles closer to Sam. Nuru reaches around her wife's back and silently offers her the large jug of water he's brought with him. She smiles thankfully and accepts it, taking a few large swallows before sighing in relief and passing it back. She'd forgotten her own water supply in the jeep with TJ. The blonde woman was a newer addition to the team, but a welcome one. Lorelei had been thrilled when TJ'd walked into the command center to report for duty right before their last mission, the doctor absolutely ecstatic to have another woman joining their group. The more the merrier, right?

It's her wife's voice that shakes her from her thoughts. "How many guards are inside?" She's peering through her binoculars as she speaks, only pulling them away to look back at her men when Pata answers her question.

"At least four." He whispers- he always seems nervous to Lorelei, his voice timid and his eyes flighty.

Sam acknowledges the intel with a nod before pressing the button on her vest that activates her comm unit. "Rogue One for Rogue Two- send sitrep."

"Good to go, boss." Joey's voice echoes through Lorelei’s earpiece and she can't help but to smile. Elijah might be Sam's bestfriend, but Lorelei has always been closest with Joey and thus Bo by default.

"Stand by," is all Sam says in response and Lorelai can almost see Joey's amused scoff despite the fact that he's out of view. She smiles, rolling her eyes fondly and shooting Sam an amused look. Both women know that Bo and Joey are anxious to get a move on, and that Sam's request for a sitrep would have made them hopeful that it was time to act. Twigs snap and leaves rustle, causing Lorelei and Sam to turn around only to see Elijah moving back their way with a black remote in his hand.

He squats down at Sam's side and holds up the detonator for her to see as he speaks. "Your fireworks are ready and set. How d'you wanna do this?" Sam looks down at her watch and Elijah opens up the top pockets of his vest to pull out his ever present flask.

"Sunset's in an hour. I say we sit tight and then... boom." Lorelei giggles at Sam's sound effect and the way she uses her hands to mimic an explosion, wondering again for the thousandth time how her wife could be such a badass and so adorable at the same time. She has to resist the urge to lean around Sam's shoulder and press a kiss to her lips, reminding herself that they're on a job and now isn't the time.

Elijah chuckles too, unscrewing the cap off his flask as he asks, "Why does everything have to be so noisy around you?" He takes a quick swig as Sam leans her head back, her eyes smiling when her lips won't.

"You know, a girl's gotta make an entrance." Elijah holds up the flask and raises his brows, offering her a sip of the booze inside. He's quickly, but silently, reprimanded with just a look from Sam, who tilts her head back and raises her eyebrows as if to say 'Really?' but Elijah simply grins before taking another swig.

He leans back onto his heels and lets out a "Psst," grinning when Lorelei moves back to meet his gaze before shaking the flask invitingly at her with a quirked brow.

She snickers as Sam turns back to him with an annoyed glare but shakes her head. He nods when she mouths a 'thank you though' his way, both of them moving back into position on either side of Sam and staring back down at the insurgents milling about. It's silent once again for a few moments, a familiar silence of waiting that Lorelei almost finds comforting after so many years of field work, before Sam breaks it.

She pushes the button on her vest once again, talking to Joey and Bo. "Be aware that the asset is in the green hut."

It's Bo who responds this time rather than Joey, but humming from the latter can be heard in the background. "Green hut. Solid copy." The silence resumes, interrupted only by the rustling of grass and leaves in the wind. The breeze feels nice brushing against her exposed skin, the ends of her ponytail lifting and twisting through the air. Her shoulder brushes against Sam's and, other than the horrid heat, it's peaceful.

"You need to read this, boss." It's only due to years of experience that the sudden sound of Barasa's voice, whisper or not, doesn't make her jump. He reaches across Lorelei, satphone in hand, and over to Sam who takes it with furrowed brows. Lorelei leans closer to peer at the screen, both she and Sam letting out the same expletive at the words displayed.

'From: Station One

NEW INTEL: THEY'RE MOVING THE TARGET BEFORE DARK. DON'T WAIT. GO NOW.'

"Shit," they both breathe out before Sam continues, "okay, we go now." It's obvious she's not happy about the development, her lips tight and her head shaking. Elijah looks up from his flask, surprised, and furrows his eyebrows questioningly.

"What? Now?" His voice is thick with confusion as he tucks his flask away. "What happened to dark?"

"There's no time. They're moving the asset." Sam hands him the satphone as she speaks, Elijah taking it and reading over the message before letting out a sigh. "Pata, are you sure about this building?" Sam doesn't take her eyes away from the threat ahead of them that they're about to walk into as she speaks, not until she hears Pata's response anyhow.

"I think so."

Both O'Hara women turn to look at him, one incredulous and one stressed and a bit pissed. "You think so, or you know so? The difference can mean all of our lives." Sam snaps, icy eyes hard as Lorelei and Elijah each stare at Pata over one of her shoulders with wide eyes.

"That is what my contact told me." His voice trembles, nerves clear for all to see as it sets in for him that this is real. They're moving in and they're moving in now . If he's wrong they could all die. His platitude isn't very reassuring, but it's all they've got, so Sam turns back around, the action copied by her wife and Elijah. The captain sighs, seemingly resigning herself to the disaster they're walking into, and holds her hand out. Elijah is quick to put the detonator in it, and just as Sam readjusts her grip and prepares to squeeze, a soft 'Ahem' stops her.

She, Lorelei, and Elijah all look over at Nuru who's crouched there with an innocent smile, brown eyes pleading. Sam stares at him for a moment before passing the small black box back to Elijah, who hands it to Nuru. He takes it with a grin, spinning it round the right way and, just before he squeezes, grins even wider.

"I love this bit." He says giddily before decisively pressing the lever down. Not even a second later an explosion rings out, fire pillaring up into the sky brightly, violently. Lorelei actually laughs when she sees it blow the guy she's pretty sure is the leader off his feet.

And then they're moving, falling into formation with a practiced ease. Sam is in the lead with her gun raised and her finger on the trigger, Lorelei hot on her heels and turning occasionally to check their six, her own gun sweeping readily. Elijah is back and to their left with Nuru beside him and to their right. Barasa is just behind Lorelei, a little ahead of Nuru, and Pata brings up the rear. They move silently, smoothly, through the compound, going unnoticed due to the insurgents being too distracted by their new fire problem. Sam stops and kneels, Barasa copying the movement where he is. Nuru turns to guard their six while Lorelei, Elijah, and Pata dart ahead. And then Sam is up and once again in the lead, Lorelei moving back behind her, gun moving down to aim at the dirt rather than her wife's back.

She takes what feels like her first breath since they'd left the safety of the tree as they press their backs against one of the outer buildings. Sam peers around the corner as Barasa, Pata, Nuru, and Elijah join them. With one glance back that earns her a nod from her wife and Pata, Sam is off. The captain lifts her gun back into position and then rounds the corner, leading them towards a yellow truck parked beneath a blue tarp stretched between four tall, wooden poles. The poles are surrounded by junk, one circled by stacks of barrels and another by wooden pallets. Sam heads for a wooden pallet and crouches behind it for cover, Lorelei dropping down behind her and Pata guarding their six but Elijah doesn't stop, moving around their small group and ahead into the compound. He clears the area quickly and then the other three are back on their feet and moving forward, Sam and Elijah taking the lead with Lorelei directly behind her and Pata only a few steps behind. They tilt to check around the corners of a couple of oddly placed shipping containers as they go, each movement completely in sync. Looking at the way they move anyone could tell that this is far from the first time they've done this. Elijah stops at a corner, allowing Sam and Lorelei to pass before falling into step with them. Pata moves off to the left, the direction that the insurgents will come from when they've dealt with the fire, and keeps pace with them.

They interact and cooperate with a silent ease that can only come from years of running ops together, even Lorelei who doesn't usually go into the center of the fray. You wouldn't be able to tell that looking at her though, the confidence with which she moves, the comfortable way she holds such a large gun. The only clue to the fact that the others are more worried for her safety than any of the others in their squad is the way that Sam and Elijah are pretty much sandwiching her between them precautiously.

Lorelei can see the insurgents rushing about with water and throwing dirt as the flames continue to burn brightly from her position in front of the green hut, taking a knee back and to the left while Pata does the same behind Elijah. Sam and Elijah both move to frame the door, Sam on the left and Elijah on the right with their backs pressed to the wall.

"Okay," Sam breathes out before ordering firmly, "on three." Lorelei smirks at that, knowing what's coming next.

"On three? Or, three, two, one go?" Elijah asks with faux seriousness, earning him a genuine laugh from Lorelei and an exasperated look from Sam.

"Elijah, every time?"

"It's funny." He retorts, grinning. "Everytime."

"He's right." Lorelei backs him up, turning to quickly shoot him a grin before returning her attention back to the open ground in front of her.

"Oh my god." Sam sighs, shaking her head before giving Elijah a serious look. "Come on." She nods towards the door and he shrugs before dramatically, yet silently, using his fingers to count down from three. His hand drops to the handle and he pushes the door open, almost simultaneously Lorelei is pushing off her knee and back onto her feet, moving backwards as Sam swings around the doorframe, moving into the shabby building with her gun at the ready.

"Lorelei," Elijah calls quietly, waving for her to go ahead of him when she turns her head to look at him over her shoulder. She nods once, and continues walking backwards a few steps before spinning on the balls of her feet and storming in after her wife. The two stop short, Elijah nearly bumping into Lorelei’s back as a result, at the the sight of a single room filled with supplies but no girls.

"Shit." Sam, Elijah, and Lorelei chorus.

"Wrong building! There's nothing here." Elijah growls out, Lorelei following Sam as she turns and practically storms out of the door, gun dropping to her side.

"What the fuck , Pata." Sam snaps furiously, tension radiating off her in waves. "This is not how you fucking make amends!"

"Sam, this isn't helping." Lorelei whispers, well aware that their rising volume levels could attract their enemies attention at any moment. Elijah steps back out into the dirt, gun held aloft and sweeping readily as he covers Pata and the two women, whose guns are now aiming at the ground.

"They told me it's this building!" Pata protests, his eyes wide, and Lorelei can't help but take pity on him.

"It's not Pata's fault. He was given faulty intel, how was he supposed to know? We were fucked from the beginning." Sam heaves an angry breath, probably preparing to disagree, when Elijah cuts in.

"What do you want us to do, boss?"

"It's gotta be that one, right?" Sam jerks her chin towards building number two to their right, a yellow bungalow too far away for them to get to safely. The insurgents won't be distracted by the fire much longer, they need to hurry the fuck up or they're dead.

Pata looks at the building for a few moments before he nods. "It's gotta be."

Elijah drops his gun down and leans forward, eyes scanning the distance and desired building analytically but quickly. "That's a lot of open ground to clear." He leans back, holding his gun up and ready once again as his eyes return to their six. Sam nods, clearly considering their options, before pulling up her vest and pushing the button to speak breathily into their comms.

"Rogue Two, I'm gonna need you to draw their fire."

Oh god, Lorelei thinks, this is gonna get real chaotic real fast.

"Send again, boss?" Joey's voice fills her ear and Lorelei can't help the worry for his and Bo's safety that bubbles up in her chest. This is a terrible idea, but it's the only one they've got.

Sam's response is less formal than her previous command and it causes Lorelei to smile. "You gotta piss 'em off so bad they shoot at you. Copy?"

"Solid fucking copy." Lorelei and Elijah share a grin at that, both amused by the anticipation audible in Joey's voice. The sound of gunshots ring out moments later, joined by the sound of frantic insurgents shouting and, eventually, firing back.

"I have a feeling I'm going to be super fucking busy today." Lorelei quips, getting a laugh out of Eli and a smile out of Sam.

"It's very painful," the light hearted moment is broken by Nuru's staticy voice echoing over the comms and Sam nods.

"Good." She replies, a tinge of relief noticeable in her voice. The plan is working. Well, as much as this fucking disaster of a situation can work, Lorelei supposes.

"Boss, this could get messy." Nuru says worriedly, and Lorelei tightens her grip on her gun nervously. This op has gone sideways in a matter of minutes, and she knows it's only going to get worse.

Sam nods to the side before saying, "I like messy," as if trying to convince herself of the fact. She moves first, stepping out around Pata with her gun raised and Lorelei is quick to follow her, Elijah pretty much right on her back. Pata trails behind, walking sideways and keeping the barrel of his gun pointed down the open way that leads to where the insurgents are being picked off by Joey and Bo.

Rogue One tilts as one, checking around a corner before carrying on. In actuality it doesn't take them that long to clear the open ground, and soon enough they're pressing their backs against the exterior of the yellow building, but to Lorelei it feels like hours.

"On three."

"On three, or three, two, one, go?" Elijah rushes out, more than likely well aware that the joke is going to earn him the ire of his captain, and it does.

"Elijah!" She cuts him off firmly, annoyance written all over her face, and if they weren't more than likely moments from death Lorelei would've smiled.

He doesn't even count out loud, just suddenly letting out a, "Go!", and pushing the door open with the back of his hand. Sam sucks in her lips and then surges forward, gun jerking up and ready to take out any potential threat she might find. Elijah nods at her and then Lorelei is following after her wife, both women scanning the room and moving off to the side so Elijah can follow them in, Pata kneeling in the doorway. Elijah takes the lead, clearing the front room once again and then the side door as Lorelei and Sam take deep breaths, pressing their backs to the far wall and catching their breath as they wait for him to finish. There's one room left, and if the asset isn't there then they're fucked. They watch as Barasa and Nuru join them, taking cover behind a vehicle parked in front of the doorway before Barasa takes Pata's place, Pata rushing into the building before the same exchange happens between Nuru and Barasa. Nuru kneels in the open doorway for a few moments to make sure no one's headed their way before moving backwards and leaping to his feet.

Nuru closes the door firmly behind him and Lorelei can hear Joey and Bo start shouting, moments before a voice starts calling after them. "You wanna take what's mine, yeah? Well, we'll see about that!"

They ignore him, Sam and Elijah moving to either side of the door that's their last hope while Lorelei, Barasa, and Nuru hang back. Eli pushes the door open with no countdown quip this time and Sam rushes in, gun at the ready. Lorelei doesn't move until she hears her wife hiss out a "Yes!"

"Fuck, what is this?" Elijah growls out just as Barasa and Lorelei join them inside the too small room. The lighting is poor and the floor is dirty, but what really catches a their attention is the line of cages set against the right wall. Barasa drops to his knees and pushes his fingers through the thin bars of the first cage, reassuring the girl locked in there, his voice almost as desperate as her's.

"They're trafficking girls," Sam answers Elijah's question distractedly, pulling out the photo they were given by Station One and moving to compare it to the girl curled up in the last crate.

"Are you okay?" The doctor quickly takes over as Lorelei leans over a crouched Barasa to peer at the girl in the first cage through the top, scanning her for any injuries that might be life threatening.

"Please let us out," is all the girl says in response and Lorelei, once she's satisfied by a lack of any sign of major injury, moves on to the next cage just as Sam stops in front of the same one. While Lorelei begins searching for any blood or signs of injury, Sam starts shouting.

"Hey, girl! Hey!" Sam barks out, crouching as she holds the picture up level with the girl's head. Lorelei grimaces at her wife's rough treatment of the obviously terrified girl, but doesn't say anything knowing that they don't have time to coddle them if they want to get out of here alive. The girl seems unhurt, so Lorelei scoots around Sam and moves to the final cage, smiling down gently at the poor girl as she looks her over, leaving Sam to her job while she does her's. "What's your name?" Sam asks roughly, drawing the attention of those in her command, all hopeful that they've found their girl and can get the fuck out of here.

"Asilia Wilson." The girl answers, her voice is trembling but determined, her eyes showing that she's far from broken.

"Bingo. She's the money!" Sam pushes out of her crouch and turns to face them. Lorelei winces when she hears bullets begin pelting against the building, instinctively raising her gun a bit higher despite there being nothing she can do to help at the moment. Sam, hearing the same thing, is quick to give the command to fire back. "Light 'em up boys!" The noise amplifies as the gunfire multiplies by two.

Sam moves back so Elijah can use the bolt cutters to break off the padlock keeping Asilia in the cage. As soon as the door swings open the young blonde surges out of the cage and attempts to sprint from the room, only to be shoved back by Barasa. "No, get back!"

"Get down! Secure her!" Sam orders at almost the same time, Lorelei wrapping her arms around the girl before spinning and passing her off to Elijah who pins the girl's arms to her sides in a bear hug and drags her down into the corner.

"She said don't move!" He snaps at her when she makes an obvious movement to get back on her feet, his hand on her shoulder pushing her down onto her ass while Lorelei focuses on the other two girls. Sam's not going to want to take them since it'll fuck up their plan, but they can't leave them here with these men.

Sam, ignoring the chaos around her, activates her comm. "Rogue One to Rogue Three, we're ready for extraction."

"Sam!" Lorelei protests

"Copy you, inbound." TJ responds, unaware of the onslaught of protestations that Sam has just activated.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What about the others?" Elijah says, pointing at the cages with his free hand.

"They're not part of the plan," Sam responds like it's obvious, simple, just like Lorelei knew she would.

"Sam! We're not leaving them here." She snaps, scowling at her wife and daring her to disagree.

"Sam!" Barasa squawks, moving closer to meet her eyes.

"You just said we gotta move, they'd slow us down, we don't have room in the vehicles," Sam shouts off the list of reasons why they're not rescuing the two girls in Barasa's face before pushing the button on her vest once more. "Rogue One for Rogue Three-"

"Sam!" Elijah and Lorelei cut her off simultaneously, much to her fury.

"Hey!" She bellows back angrily, turning to face them with fire filled eyes. "Fucking don't make me pull rank on you two!" She storms over as she yells, pointing at them angrily and getting in Elijah's face.

"Fuck rank, Sam! We're not leaving these girls here with these men!" Lorelei shouts back, forcing her way between the two friends and staring her slightly taller wife down.

"We didn't fucking plan for this, we're not getting paid for this!"

"We're not leaving them!"

"Sam!"

"Come on!"

When Barasa once again joins in on the chorus of protestations Sam whirls to face him, teeth gritted and muscles tense. "We're not getting paid for this!"

And that's when the begging starts, the girl in the first cage rattling the door desperately with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, somebody! Just help me! Please!" Sam turns to look down at the girl and from where Lorelei's standing she can see the exact moment the resolve breaks on her face as the girl continues pleading with them. "What the fuck?! Please! Please! Please! Please! I'm begging you!"

"If I or Lorelei fucking die because I'm doing the right thing, I'm gonna be so pissed." She shakes her head and turns away, Lorelei beaming at her from her spot next to Elijah. "Fuck it, do it!" As soon as the words are out of Sam's mouth Elijah is lunging forward, grabbing the bolt cutters off the top of what had been Asilia's cage and moving to break the locks on the other two. The girl with the pink in her hair is first, then the girl with the cuts on her face all the way at the back. They run from the small room, Elijah, Lorelei, and Barasa helping them stay on their feet after however many hours curled up in a ball.

Lorelei releases the girl she was helping and runs to join Sam, lifting her gun and getting ready to fight, when heat suddenly bursts forth, flames visible through the windows and the bullet holes in the walls licking at the wooden door. "Oh shit!" She cries, hand flying to push the girls further away from the front of the building. "Get back, get back," she shouts frantically as Barasa states the obvious.

"Well, we ain't leaving this fucking way!" He turns to look at Sam who's standing in front of Lorelei and the girls now collapsed at her feet. "We need a back door!"

Sam begins shoving the girls by their shoulders, forcing them to stand up and move into the other room and shouting at them to stay down low as Lorelei follows behind, pushing any stragglers to catch up.

"Sit down!" Sam roughly shouts at the three teenagers, pointing angrily at the corner furthest from the wall she's gonna blow, and they all whimper as they do what she says. Lorelei crouches down beside them with her gun held aloft just in case anybody gets through that she needs to put down, no matter how unlikely that is. As she guards the girls- both from the insurgents and from their own panic overriding any common sense they might have- Sam quickly pulls out her C4. She molds it into the shape she wants and wires it up, frustration building when one of the teens starts yelling at her.

"We're fucked! We're fucked! We're all gonna burn! What kind of rescue is this?!" She pushes to her knees and crawls towards Sam, her voice hysterical and her hands shaking.

"Nobody fucking sent anybody to rescue you!" Sam snaps out in response, glaring at her before turning back to her C4.

"Sam, just focus on the fucking wall!" Lorelei shouts before shoving the loudmouthed girl back into the corner with a glare. "Your bitching isn't helping, kid, so just shut the fuck up and let Sam work!"

"Seconds away," TJ's voice pops up, easing some of the tension in Lorelei's shoulders. Extraction is almost here, just a few more seconds, they can hold the building for a few more seconds. "Where do you wants us?"

Sam rises to her feet and stretches her arm as high up as it'll reach before slamming the first charge against the wall, making sure it sticks before bending down and placing the other one towards the bottom as she answers TJ on comms. "Second building. Low bungalow, south side. Back door."

"There's no back door on building two?!" TJ shouts over the roar of the jeep's engine, obviously confused.

Lorelei reaches down and presses the comms button on her vest, shooting Sam a smile as she says, "There will be."

With the C4 charges all set, Sam moves over to their small group on the floor and kneels down besides her wife, both women pulling the girls in close so they can hear Sam's instructions over the sound of gunfire. "Listen to me, come here! Come here now!"

"Elijah, Barasa, Nuru, Pata, get your asses over here!" Lorelei orders and they're quick to follow, Elijah kneeling down behind her and Sam before uttering reassurances to the whimpering girls, while Barasa and Pata take up kneeling positions by the door to the room with Nuru right behind them.

"I want you to cover your ears and open your mouths, okay?" Sam instructs, calmer than she's been since they found the cages.

"What? Why, why?" The girl with the braids sobs out, and the small amount of patience Sam is able to muster in this situation runs out.

"Hey! Unless you wanna blow out your lungs and your fucking eardrums, you're gonna do what I say."

"You're gonna blow up the room?" Another girl questions as she puts her hands over her ears, the laceration on her eyebrow weeping blood.

"No, hey, no. She's just making us a door, alright?" Lorelei promises, giving her the most reassuring smile she can form right before Sam orders them all to get down.

"Fire in the hole!" Elijah calls and they all bend at the waist, hands over their ears and mouths open in what look like silent screams just as Sam said, the captain's arm thrown protectively over the back of Lorelei's head as she squeezes the detonator.

The wall blows outward in a dramatic fashion, chunks of brick and dust coating the floor just in front of the hole and a wide stretch of grass on the other side of it. Pata's the first one out, jumping from the room and down onto the grass, but he's quickly followed by Barasa and then Nuru, who kneels by the bed of the first vehicle to help the girls hop up.

"Hurry, hurry, get in!" He calls, waving them over, just as Sam and Lorelei, followed just as closely as ever by Elijah who breaks for the other truck, emerge from the hole and sprint over to the jeep. Sam throws herself into the passenger seat next to TJ, and Lorelei takes a running jump into the bed of the vehicle just behind her, reaching down to help pull the girls in after her.

"I thought there was only one hostage?" TJ calls as she throws the car in gear.

"It's an evolving situation!" Sam yells back, turning around to check on Lorelei and make sure she has gotten in, smiling with closed lips when her wife nods that she's okay.

"We couldn't leave them." Lorelei adds on when TJ turns to look at her, the blonde simply nodding and turning back around in preparation to take off when she sees Elijah finally hop into the passenger side of the jeep behind them.

"Come on," Sam encourages, chaos still erupting around them as the insurgents scramble to their own vehicles, "let's go, go, go!" They pull away, tearing down the dirt path that leads to freedom and only slowing down when the sight of Joey and Bo sprinting their way comes into view. They split up, Joey heading for the vehicle in the lead while Bo dashes for the car trailing them, and as Joey gets nearer Lorelei starts shouting.

"Open the gate! Open the fucking gate!" She reaches forward to do it herself, but she's too far away, so Pata's the one who unlatches it and lets it drop just as Joey dives their way. Pata grabs him by the shoulder strap of his vest and hauls him back and away from the edge of the bed, Lorelei reaching out to ruffle his hair when he finally gets situated. Bo, in the same position as Joey in the other truck, fires off round after round, successfully nailing a few of the insurgents coming after them on foot just as their small caravan swings around a corner and onto open ground, African plains stretching out around them.

"Yes! Fuck yes!" Lorelei shouts as cheers go up around her, endorphins from the adrenaline coursing through their veins and the intense escape causing big grins on everyone's faces except the young girls. Lorelei pushes up on her knees and turns to lean under the u-shaped bar separating the cab from the bed. Sam, just as exhilarated as the rest of them and smiling beautifully, jumps a little when her wife's head appears over her shoulder. Lorelei doesn't say anything, she simply reaches forward and wraps a hand around Sam's throat, just under her chin, and pulls her head backwards sharply. She grins at her for a moment before leaning forward and slamming their lips together, a thrill different from before rising through her when Sam's tongue traces the seam of her lips and then slips inside her mouth.

Wolf whistles quickly replace the cheers as those in the car watch the whole ordeal, Nuru and Joey hollering and whistling loudly while Pata laughs and TJ cheers. Lorelei blushes and pulls away, taking in Sam's upside down smile for a moment before letting her go and settling back down in the bed, aware that couldn't have been the most comfortable thing for Sam's neck. The two girls are staring at her, but she doesn't acknowledge them, choosing instead to throw a pebble that had made its way into the bed of the vehicle at Joey's smug face. He sputters when it hits him dead between the eyes and gives her an incredibly offended look just before the grin returns and he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!"

[farginen]

psychology + mental health deep dive

general mental health related trigger warnings apply.  feel free to include more or exclude those facts / test results that take too much time or don’t apply, you can check out this list for more personality-related quizzes to include!

quick facts

diagnoses: ptsd, unspecified anxiety disorder/s (needs further evaluation) triggers: undefined, usually resistant to triggering situations to a degree. positive coping skills: maintaining a routine, eating and sleeping regularly, maintaining her own hygiene as well as the hygiene of her surroundings and her dog negative coping skills: social isolation + withdraw, (sometimes)  under-eating or sleep deprivation, self-sabotaging and suicidal plans attachment style: disorganized / fearful-avoidant love language:  physical touch (receiving), quality time (mutual),  acts of service (giving) myers briggs / mbti:  ISTJ

history exploration

are their diagnoses formal ( via a doctor, therapist, etc. ) or informal ( self diagnosis, a hunch, unrealized, etc. )

semi formal. a proper psychological evaluation was done when riza formalised her military career after the war.

have they ever been treated / medicated?

no, she was deemed "functional" and has not had any follow up treatment.

have they ever been hospitalized or treated on an inpatient basis?

no, only hospitalised for physical injuries after the promised day events.

how old were they when they first started experiencing / realizing symptoms?

some steem from childhood, some from war.

do they have a family history of mental illness?

yes, her father berthold hawkeye was severely mentally ill though undiagnosed.

how was mental health handled / discussed in the family?

it wasn't.

what are their thoughts on mental health / their diagnosis?

she sees it the same as other physical injuries. the brain is just another organ.

in what ways has their diagnosis shaped their life or experiences?

it hasn't. much like other physical illness and injuries, if it's something she can live and deal with and go without medical assistance she'll take that route. unfortunately, mental health does fall under this.

symptoms

bold all that are present, italicize those that are resolved or in the history.

depression.    anxiety.    panic attacks.    dissociation.    derealization.    depersonalization.    suicidal ideation.    self harm.    homicidal ideation.    psychosis.    auditory hallucinations.    visual hallucinations.    delusions.    mania.    hypomania.    racing thoughts.    hyperactivity.    attention difficulty.    flashbacks.    nightmares.    hyperarousal.    hypoarousal.    hypersexuality.    hyposexuality.    psychopathy.   risky behavior.    catatonia.    somatic / bodily concerns.    mutism.    phobia.    agoraphobia.    hoarding.    obsessions.    compulsions.    body dysmorphia.    hair picking.    skin picking.     amnesia.    illness anxiety / hypochondria.    sensory loss.    speech difficulty.    comprehension difficulty.    communication difficulty.    tics.    defiant behavior.    irritable mood.    vindictiveness.     aggression.    pyromania.    kleptomania.    paranoia.    attention seeking.    narcissism.    avoidance.    dependency.    pica.    rumination.    food restriction.    food binging.    purging.    soiling the bed.    insomnia.    fatigue.    sexual dysfunction.    delirium.    developmental delays.

note that all of the below are, on their own, normative and typical aspects of human functioning. they become “symptoms” when they last longer than “normal” or when they pose a significant impact on someone’s life / functioning.

explanations / elaborations on any of the above symptoms

riza is generally very self aware and has a strong grip on herself, most "symptoms" are either circumstantial (i.e high stress, life or death situations, fighting homunculi and all that jazz) and laying dormant until a specific event triggers a reaction, or are underlying subconsciously in her thoughts hardly ever being expressed outwardly instead appearing always calm, collected and even cold or emotionless.

tagged by: i stole this from @seesgood ! tagging: @kingsleyer, @hongdiwang, @fullmtal, @stovthearted, @bidotheuncanny, @blanchette + anyone else who wants to do it

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Pining and Anticipation

Summary: You work for Starkly Yours, the adult division of Stark Industries, as a PA. A sudden depature leaves you to fill a role you never expected. 

Features/Warnings: Smut; self-doubt; mentions of weight; Oral sex (F recieving) 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Plus Size Reader

Notes: Pornstar AU. 

I did no research for this, just went with it. This will potentially become a series of oneshot series entitled ‘Dress’ 

Request:  “Hi there! I have a request for a Pornstar Au featuring Bucky x Plus Size Reader. In this world, the Avengers are some of the biggest entertainers in the industry. Reader is a staff worker who usually works behind the scenes, fixing lunches and getting drinks. One day, she is asked to work as a fluffer, due to call outs, to none other than Bucky, the cute Pornstar who has been flirting with her. Cue smutty fluff.”

Word Count: 2447

Stark Industries had been a household name for decades. Household gadgets to military weapons, you name it, Stark made it. Upon Howard Stark’s passing in the 90s, his son Tony took up the mantle, making changes to the way the company was run and dropping the weapons for other ventures. Starkly Yours was the adult division of the company, focusing on lingerie, sex toys, and the production of high quality, ethically made porn. Tony Stark was known for keeping a strict code of ethics when it came to that division of the company. No drugs. No alcohol. You could leave at any time and he had ways of disguising appearance for those who didn’t wish to have their true identity revealed.

That technology was a closely guarded secret. Tony had mentioned time and time again not wanting the government to get their hands on it. You didn’t blame him for that, knowing the guilt he carried for what had happened to Sokovia, the home of Wanda Maximoff, who had started working in the adult division a couple years prior. Her story had been one of many Tony had heard over the years. Wanda had started out working as a receptionist in the R&D lab in high school and college, before she graduated and moved to Starkly Yours. Wanda worked alongside you as a PA.

You marveled at the tech Tony had made to conceal identities. It was usually the younger actors and actresses who went that route, the ones who had no intentions of making a career out of being in Stark’s films. It was good money. Tony ran heavy background checks on all staff who worked within the video and image division. Brock Rumlow had once tried to out a girl and that had been the end of his career. You’d never cared for him anyway. He’d hit on you several times, with you rebuffing his attempts each time. You knew about Brock and none of what you knew was good. Last you’d heard he had started on with Hydra Productions, a sketchy production company based in LA. The last time you turned him down he called you names you refused to repeat, making comments on your weight and the fact that your pining for Bucky Barnes was becoming obvious. You never told Tony, not wanting to give Rumlow more of a reason to dislike you. You knew if you had told Tony, Rumlow would have been out the door sooner. 

You had started out as a PA for Tony after he and Pepper had gotten together, with Pepper taking over the day to day of the main part of the company. Tony’s domain these days was primarily Starkly Yours, between the films and the products. You were usually getting the lunches and drinks for the actors, and whatever else they needed. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, the list went on. There were a core of actors at the studio called the Avengers. It was a fun little nickname, after a superhero themed series of videos that had been done. Their personas stuck across multiple films and it had been a moment of marketing genius. 

You were sweet on Bucky Barnes, something it seemed everyone but Bucky knew. Tony had crafted the arm he now had, working with the Wakandan princess who had spent a summer working with Stark Industries a few years back. You didn’t know the details of that exchange, just that Tony knew the Wakandan royals. Bucky’s arm was the only one like it in the world, made of vibranium and other metals. Others in the Stark prosthetic line were modeled after it, but with different metal. You knew the vague story of how he’d lost the arm, but never pushed for more than he was comfortable sharing when the two of you would hang out. 

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. It was hot in New York that morning, summer making itself known with an early heat wave. You were thankful that day’s shoot was indoors, in the air conditioning of the penthouse Stark had just for filming. You had opted for a tank top and a light cardigan that morning but you were regretting your choice. The tank top clung to you in a way that you felt was unflattering. Natasha would reassure you that you were in your head. You never did believe her, or  Wanda for that matter. You poked and prodded at your stomach after washing your hands in the bathroom sink. It was going to be a long day. You took in the image of your face, frowning at the appearance of your chin before letting out a sigh. 

You knew it was going to be a long day. You had gotten a text from Tony early that morning that you might be needed to perform additional duties. You weren’t sure what he meant by that. There was a pit in your stomach that told you that you might not like the answer. Tony would never force you to do something that made you feel uncomfortable, that much you knew. You pulled yourself from your thoughts and headed to where your boss was, talking to Natasha and Wanda. Natasha was set to be in the scene that day, alongside Bucky and Steve. 

“There she is, world’s best PA. Bad news, buttercup. Georgie resigned effective immediately. She got quite the opportunity across the pond in London with Peggy Carter’s new agency and Peggy needed her as soon as possible. That leaves us in a bind because you know how particular Barnes is,” Tony said. It took a moment for your mind to catch up. Georgie’s official job was as a camera tech, but she would, on occasion, act as a fluffer. Bucky was particular about everything, from who he did scenes with to who he’d allow to help him stay in the moment. He didn’t need help often, but Georgie was his go to person. She had been there before Tony had pulled you over to Starkly Yours. 

“What about Nat?” you asked, your voice cracking. 

“He said no. But something tells me he won’t say no to you helping him,” Natasha said with a mischievous smirk on her face.

“Me? Nat, I get near him and the man will be softer than an ice cream cone,” you replied. She rolled her eyes.

“Maybe you can’t see it, but that man has had it bad for you for months,” Natasha replied. You snorted. When you’d started working with Starkly Yours, you’d been seeing someone. He hated that you worked for a porn production company, but you refused to quit. It ended up being the end of your relationship six months earlier, with a parting jabs that stung more than you cared to admit. 

“Nat,” you whined.

“It’s true. He’s always flirting with you,” Wanda noted. You couldn’t disagree there. Bucky did flirt with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it was more than friendly banter. Bucky Barnes was the kind of guy who could get any woman he wanted. You were sure that woman wasn’t you. No matter how long it had been, your face always warmed when he’d call you doll, honey, or sweetheart. 

“No, he says that shit to everyone,” you deflected. You saw the look the two women shared. 

“You’re up, buttercup. Trust me. He’ll be open to it,” Tony said, patting your shoulder. Natasha practically dragged you down the hall to Bucky’s dressing room. It was more like an actual bedroom. You glanced down at what you were wearing, regretting the fact that laundry day had left you with that damned tank top. ‘There’s no way Bucky will be turned on by this. If anything he’s going to get soft and I’ll be the joke of the day’ you thought to yourself. Natasha stopped suddenly, arriving outside Bucky’s door. You almost slammed into her. She looked you up and down.

“That top looks gorgeous on you. Don’t let him rip it,” she said. You held back a laugh at her comment. Only in your dreams would Bucky Barnes rip your clothes from your body. 

Natasha knocked on the door before you had a chance to back out of it. It swung open to reveal Bucky, his robe wrapped around him. You tried not to stare, you honestly did. But Bucky Barnes did things to you. Sinful, wicked things that would surely make a nun blush. Nuns, think of nuns, you told yourself, hoping your expression didn’t betray you. Oh, the things you would let that man do to you. 

“Bad news, Barnes. Georgie resigned suddenly to take a position immediately with Peggy’s new agency,” Natasha said. 

“Oh?” Bucky asked. That voice. You could listen to it all day. You would take it to the grave how many times you had gotten yourself off thinking about that voice telling you just what to do.

“Lucky for you, everyone’s favorite PA volunteered to assist you. However you’d like,” Natasha said with an exaggerated wink. You felt your cheeks warm again. You wanted desperately for the floor to swallow you whole.

“Did she now? Is that true, doll? You volunteered to help me today?” Bucky asked, his voice dropping lower. You felt your own wetness begin to pool between your legs. 

“Uh...yeah, I uh, I did,” you said, your voice cracking a little as the pitch increased. Natasha walked away, calling over her shoulder “have fun, you two” before disappearing around the corner. You were surprised when Bucky took your hand and pulled you into his room.

You had been in there before, bringing him lunch and occasionally hanging out. He was a friend above all else. His eyes roamed your body and you could have sworn you saw them darken as he did. He placed his hand under your jaw, tilting your head so you couldn’t help but look at him.

“Tell me the truth doll. Do you want to do this?” he asked, his voice low. You swallowed. You had a feeling he was talking about more than just a quick blow job to get him hard before a scene.

“Yes,” you replied.

“If we do this, sweetheart, there’s no putting that back in the bottle. And I’m not sure I can be just friends if we do. I’d prefer to take you to dinner first, but I think you and I can both agree, we are past the getting to know you stage,” he said. You blinked. It felt as though your brain was short circuiting. There was no way Bucky Barnes, one of the most attractive men you’d ever met, was asking you out, and from the sound of it, asking for something serious. You weren’t sure what had come over you before you answered.

“I’m all in if you are,” you replied. He smiled, a toothy grin that you knew was reserved for only you. He moved his hand, opting to take yours as he pulled you toward the bed, and gestured for you to sit. You looked at him, brow furrowed.

“I thought I was supposed to get you hard,” you said. He chuckled.

“Oh sweetheart, you underestimate how much I enjoy what I’m about to do. Our first time is gonna be all about you,” he said. He looked at you as he brought hit hands up to the button of your pants. With a swift nod from you, he undid the button and zipper in one motion, taking both your pants and your panties as he moved down your legs. You weren’t sure when you had lost the flats you were wearing, certain that it was somewhere between the door and the bed. 

Bucky moved to take your shirt off, but you touched his hands, stopping him. He gave you a look, brows furrowed in confusion. Your mind was racing. You didn’t want him to see you fully naked. No. Not Bucky. 

“Doll, let me see you, please?” he asked.

“Bucky,” you whined. 

“Let me show you how you should be treated. You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. And it’s about time someone showed you some appreciation,” he replied. He was smooth. You’d give him that. You pulled at the hem of your shirt, making the decision in that moment to pull it off, leaving you in your bra. You had never seen someone look at you quite like Bucky had in that moment. You’d had partners in the past, people who had loved you, all of you. But no one had ever looked at you like him. Bucky looked at you with such an intensity you thought you would melt. He pushed you back on the bed, having you lay down. He moved between your legs as he pressed gently to get you to open them for him. 

He kissed his way up your leg, taking his time. In the moments, thoughts about stretch marks and your size went out the window. You felt the anticipation, the desire for him to be where you needed him the most. At first contact, you arched off the bed, wanting more. You felt him smirk against you as his tongue moved from your entrance toward your clit. His right hand moved toward your center as he pressed one finger into you.

The sounds coming from you were absolutely sinful. Bucky swore he would do anything just to ensure he’d never go a day without hearing those sweet sounds coming from your mouth. He pressed another finger into you, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he pulled you over the edge. 

And over the edge you fell, screaming his name. You swore you saw stars. As you caught your breath, you saw him, your wetness on his face and him wearing a grin that told you the pair of you were far from done. His robe had since been discarded and you glanced down. He hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t need you to do any of the work. But you still wanted to. God did you want to. 

“Later doll. Tony’s probably going to be knocking on that door any minute now looking for us,” Bucky said, seeing the look on your face. He had plans for the pair of you. Starting with dinner that night. 

The two of you emerged a few minutes later, Bucky with an arm around your waist. Natasha gave you a knowing look as the two of you entered the room being used for the shoot. 

If later that night, Bucky showed you just how much stamina he had, well, that was between you, Bucky, and the walls of his apartment.