#secret spots in Vietnam

[travelernight]

Vietnam’s Best-Kept Secrets Top 10 Hidden Wonders Revealed

[natcunt]

Taking SE Asia recommendations!!!

[toournextadventure]

our little secret iii

Summary: All four of you lost the bet, and now it's time to pay up. Thankfully, Maxine and Bobby-Lynn know just how to make sure Lorraine has to pay up too.

Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, religious talk (typical of southern states), religious trauma, period-typical homophobia Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (Masterlist)

“This ain’t sittin’ right with me,” you whispered to Beau as you tried, once again, to get comfortable in the back of RJ’s van.

Despite your best attempts, you, Beau, and Huck were currently sitting with Lorraine’s crew on the way to a location. It had been agreed by everyone - except you, obviously - that you had all lost the bet, so you should all have to own up. Although you still found it profoundly unfair that Lorraine somehow got out unscathed from the entire thing that she had agreed to.

And now you were stuck in the back of a hot, sweaty van with a bunch of hot, sweaty people that were one camera away from having relations for pay.

“We all lost, we all pay up,” Beau whispered back even as he smiled at Maxine. You rolled your eyes; he was such a suck up.

“Lorraine ain’t gotta pay up,” you grumbled, but settled back in your spot anyway.

Admittedly, you were being rather rude. You had barely said hello to any of them, and you hadn’t talked to them since the trip had started. It wasn’t their fault though, it was entirely on you. You just… didn’t know what to say to them. This wasn’t your world, and it was completely overwhelming. You didn’t care what any of them did for a living, but you hadn’t expected to be a part of it.

And if Jackson didn’t quit staring at you, you were going to lose your mind.

“You look awful familiar,” Jackson said with the slightest tilt of his head. He never stopped rubbing Bobby-Lynn’s thighs.

“Ever been a few hours south of Houston?” You asked, shifting in your spot to bring your knees up to your chest.

“Don’t believe I have,” he said with a shrug.

“Must just be a resemblance, then,” you answered.

“Leave her be,” Bobby-Lynn said as she playfully smacked Jackson’s chest. “Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable?”

“Do we make you uncomfortable, sweetheart?” Jackson asked.

Oh. Oh, yeah, that was very uncomfortable.

“You were in ‘Nam, right?” Beau asked, thankfully pulling the attention away from you. You supposed he was good for something.

“Yes sir,” Jackson said with a smile, pulling his dog tags out from under his shirt. “Two tours.”

“North or South?” Beau continued. Okay, maybe you didn’t want to hear so much about this anymore.

“South.”

“Y/N’s brother was in South Vietnam,” Huck chimed in. “Maybe that’s where you recognise her.”

Oh, you wanted them both to shut up. You wanted them both to hush right that instant. You looked up and instantly met Lorraine’s eyes from across the van. She was still sitting beside RJ, going over the script and whatever else she usually did. But there was the smallest tug at the corner of her mouth when she looked at you.

I hate you, you mouthed, to which her smile grew before she went back to the script.

“What’s your brother’s name, sweetheart?” Jackson asked, pulling you back into the conversation that you desperately wished would end.

Although you liked the adorable little frown Lorraine sent Jackson’s way at the use of the little nickname. Maybe you were okay with talking with Jackson. If it could get Lorraine’s feathers ruffled, then it was worth it. It was about time the tables were turned.

“Roy,” you said. “Roy Y/L/N.”

“No shit,” Jackson said. “I served with that son of a bitch.”

“Seriously?” You pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned forward. “Which tour?”

“My first,” he said with a smile.

You smiled back. “So you knew him before he…” your voice trailed off into nothing as your eyes slowly lowered to the floor of the van and your smile fell.

Before he went crazy. But you couldn’t say that out loud, could you? Your daddy had done his best to make sure you all knew not to mention Roy’s “affliction.” A test from God, he had called it. He used it as nothing more than a piss poor excuse to remind everyone that that’s what happens when you fall from faith. What would he say about you?

You just kept your mouth shut and rested your chin on your knees.

“He caught the combat trauma,” Huck said in a far softer tone than Beau ever could have managed.

“Now that’s a shame,” Jackson said with a shake of his head.

“Heard it happens more than you think,” Maxine called out from the front seat. It was probably the first thing you had heard from her since… Well, it was the first thing you had heard. “They all come home different.”

Oh, you weren’t so sure you liked this.

“You can’t come back different,” Bobby-Lynn said with a humourless chuckle. “Besides, it ain’t even real, is it?”

“They said it is,” Maxine continued, finally turning around to face everyone. “Put it in their little book last year, called it PTSD or somethin’ like that.”

You didn’t like this topic at all. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and your grip around your knees tightened. They didn’t get to talk about this like it was nothing of impact to you. Hadn’t they just heard Huck say Roy had this… this combat trauma? And they were going to act like nothing was wrong?

Everyone around you continued to talk about this new PTSD thing that was starting to make its rounds. It felt like someone was watching you. Without lifting your head, you looked up and were instantly met with Lorraine staring at you with that look that she had never grown out of. A look that she gave you every time you would be forced to talk about Beau as if he were the love of your life. A look of pity. 

And you hated pity.

“Hey,” Jackson said, a little softer than everyone else’s ongoing conversation. He nudged your foot with his to get you to look over. “If you want me to talk to him, man to man, just let me know.”

His smile was more genuine than you had seen from a stranger in a long time. But there was no comfort in it because his offer was empty. You had no doubt he was being genuine, but how were you going to invite him over and have him talk to Roy without Daddy figuring out? The times were changing, but Jackson was a… certain type of man that you knew Daddy would never happily allow in his home. You and Roy were already scourges upon his land - though he still didn’t know your secret - so how could you possibly invite Jackson over with a clear conscience?

“Thank you,” you said instead, your smile far more convincing than your own thoughts.

The rest of the trip was, by all accounts, uneventful. That blasphemous talk of trauma and war had changed when Lorraine decided it was time to talk about the script. And even as she and RJ went over everything with their stars, and you were faced with the reality that you were truly, painfully alone, you still felt some sort of peace.

You would almost go so far as to say you felt comfortable.

Until you got to the shooting location.

“Are you serious?” You whisper-yelled at Lorraine when you both got out of the van. “You should have told me.”

“Would you have come?” She shot back, quickly shooting a fake smile to Beau and Huck when they passed. “Besides, we’re usin’ the building beside it.”

“You’re full of shit,” you mumbled as you looked up at the steeple of the small chapel.

By all accounts, it was a splendid little church. With a single steeple at the front of the roof and an elevated cross in the back, it almost reminded you of the one at home. Double doors that doubtlessly opened into a small worship room that held eight pews at most before ascending into the podium. A setup not unlike your own church back home, except this one didn’t house the guilt you couldn’t shed.

Beside the church was the parsonage, looking just as you knew them to look. Small, a little run down, painted a white that felt forced upon the environment. The paint was chipped and the window shutters were slightly askew, but it seemed to fit the rather bleak landscape behind it. Not ugly, but not exactly pretty either.

“Whatcha think?” Wayne asked. You jumped, but quickly regained composure. “Ain’t she pretty?”

“It looks cozy,” you said with a shrug. “You’re filmin’ in the parsonage, right? Not the church?”

Wayne laughed. A big hearty laugh that reminded you of all the sweet older men out at the rodeos. The ones that told you you were being ridiculous, but they were going to do their best not to openly tell you. It was a joyous laugh that was both humiliating and comforting simultaneously.

“I nearly forgot Church Mouse said you were a preacher,” he said once his laughter had subsided enough for him to talk.

“Church Mouse?” You asked.

“We’re usin’ the parsonage,” he continued, practically ignoring your question. “We’re not intendin’ to disrespect you.”

He clapped you on the shoulder and cocked his hip. You could see why Lorraine liked him. Overconfident, cocky as hell, but his smile always seemed genuine. Somehow, some way, he had seemed to be in a good mood the entire trip and even now. Optimism at its finest. You wished you could match it.

“Although I do have a favour to ask you,” Wayne said, his voice carrying a lilt that had your stomach churning.

“Yes?” You asked even though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know.

“Think you can pray over this little set of ours?” He asked. “Help us break this bad streak we got goin’ on?”

“Oh,” you said with a huff, followed by a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I can do that then.”

Wayne smiled with his teeth and tipped his hat. “Thank ya kindly.”

You kept your eyes trained on the doors of the chapel while Wayne walked away, presumably to help set up whatever it was he was needing to set up. You could pray over the set. It was a little blasphemous to use prayer for something so… risque, but you weren’t a prude. After all, Daddy had always said everyone could use a little prayer.

The handle on the door was a beautiful polished silver; spare no expense for a house of God, of course. Hypocrites, the lot of them. But it was nice to open the doors without even the slightest resistance. Nothing was more terrifying than a run down church with creaky doors. It was like walking into a horror movie.

Your boots echoed off the empty wooden walls of the chapel as you walked down the center aisle, taking in everything about the building. It was a rather beautiful church, you wouldn’t try to deny it. A single, small stained glass window hung above the podium. It would cast a beautiful coloured light where the preacher would be standing on Sunday mornings.

There were three steps up to the podium before you stood behind the lectern and looked out onto the ghostly congregation. Not a single soul was inside the building, but from your spot above the room, you could feel the eyes on you. Momma, Roy, Jimmy. Granma and Granpa were in the back, followed by friends, family, everyone in the congregation that knew you excruciatingly well.

Then there was Daddy, sitting in the aisle of the front pew, watching you with that judgmental look. The one that he gave when he was condemning someone to hell for their sins. And he was looking at you, like he could see through your physical form, all the way to the filthy soul you hid underneath it all.

“You can’t wash away sin,” Daddy said.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t-”

“-There you are.”

The entire congregation disappeared as soon as you saw Lorraine standing in the doorway. Light from the setting sun illuminated her outline, almost a perfect copy of the angel painted above the doorway. And she was. She was an angel, one that you would worship even as you were cast into the pits of hell.

“Thought we lost you,” Lorraine said as she walked down the aisle with far more confidence than she had at home.

Your breath caught in your throat when she finally stepped out of the light in a startling white dress. It looked far too close to a wedding dress. It didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t quit staring. She looked so beautiful. Her smile was illuminating; it left your palms sweaty and your chest hurt-

-you gasped and pulled your hand away from the wooden lectern. The smallest splinter was stuck in your right index finger. It was easy enough to pull out, leaving behind a scarlet drop of blood that grew until dripping down your finger.

“Are you alright?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but when you looked back up Lorraine was in normal clothes. The very same ones she had worn on the trip over. The one she had never changed out of. Right. Maybe you really were crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said with a simple nod. “Just-” you sighed “-doin’ what Wayne asked.”

“Didn’t think he was a praying man,” she said with a frown. “Want some company?”

“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile. “Yeah, I do.”

As you walked down to the bottom of the three steps to meet Lorraine, the blood from your finger smeared across the finely polished wood. You left a stain on that church, same as your own. A stain that, as your Daddy constantly preached, you could never wash away.

—---

“You’re lookin’ a little green, sweetheart,” Huck whispered as he walked up to where you were standing in the back of the room.

“I’m not green,” you whispered back even as you continued to watch the scene unfold before you. “I just- I didn’t know the body could do that.”

“You’re such a preacher’s kid,” he said with a teasing lilt. Thankfully that was all he said before he crossed his arms over his chest and looked forward.

It wasn’t your first time seeing people having sex. You weren’t a complete fool, you had seen it before. Kind of. Okay, maybe it was the most tame sex in the world, but you had seen it! And you weren’t some sort of virgin either, so you weren’t totally in the dark. But you certainly hadn’t seen this before and it was… fascinating.

And a little concerning. Your head tilted. How did it even fit? Did Bobby-Lynn even genuinely find it enjoyable? Well, okay, after that noise you could believe that maybe she did. But all that other stuff, there was no way. No way at all- wait, that actually looked interesting. You wondered if Lorraine would like that.

"You're starin'," Huck whispered.

"I can't help it," you shot back. "It's like when you pass a car wreck. You can't look away."

"I think they would die if they heard you compare watchin' smut to a car wreck," he laughed. It was a little loud, you hoped the boom mic wouldn't pick it up.

"Where's your little boy toy?" You asked, hoping to take the awkward attention away from yourself. Even though you still couldn't look away from the scene. God, you hoped it was over soon.

"Your boyfriend," he said pointedly, "is downstairs talkin' with Maxine."

Oh Maxine. You had only known her for a few days, but you were starting to think she enjoyed stirring up trouble. Within moments of getting set up in the parsonage, she had made friendly with Huck and Beau. A little too friendly. You would have laughed about the whole situation if you hadn’t been attempting to act jealous to keep up the facade.

“Reckon I should go act the part of the jealous girlfriend, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah you should,” he whispered. “Though I doubt anyone will believe it with the way you’re watching your dear Rainey over there.”

You hated him for even bringing it up. So what if you had stopped watching Bobby-Lynn and instead watched Lorraine? The way she gently blew a few strands of hair out of her face while she held the boom mic as steady as you had ever seen. She wasn’t muscular by any means, but you could still see the tone in her shoulders. Or the… the little crinkle between her brows when she focused…

Okay, Huck was right, you needed to leave.

“Told you,” he said as you backed out of the room with a hellish heat in your cheeks.

As soon as the door closed behind you and the pornographic sounds muted, you could finally breathe again. Your mind was clear and you could walk down the stairs without a thought in your head. Well… maybe you had one or two thoughts, but it was okay. You could repent later at the chapel.

Maxine’s laughter was… almost adorable, if she wasn’t trying so hard to seduce Beau. Her nails lazily scratched up and down his bicep, and her face was embarrassingly close to his ear. If you had loved him the way you were supposed to, you would’ve been furious. Should have been furious.

You pictured Lorraine in Beau’s position. Sitting there with Maxine all over her, laughing at the unfunny jokes, leaning a little too close. It made your stomach turn. Your skin was hot and clammy and something pounded inside your head, screaming to be let out. There would have been no shame in your body for grabbing her and dragging her away.

Okay, there you go. Now you had the right feelings.

Your mind had already forgotten Lorraine wasn’t there when you sat in Beau’s lap. Like a good girlfriend should do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, inhaling his scent. Sawdust. Something you supposed other women liked, which made him a downright tease.

“How’s your first smut viewin’ goin’?” Maxine asked, which instinctively had your nose scrunch before you regained composure. “That good, huh?”

“It ain’t bad,” you said. “Don’t think I really understand the appeal, though.”

“What part is… unappealing to you?” She asked, her voice far softer than necessary. 

The way she leaned in closer, trailing her eyes over every inch of you… and maybe you could see the appeal. It was something about her hand that had moved from Beau’s arm to yours. Soft. Almost too soft, but you didn’t want it to stop. And she held eye contact like it was an art-

-oh, Maxine was dangerous.

“Oh,” Maxine said with a small smile, “so that’s what it is.”

What was that supposed to mean? You opened your mouth to ask, but the stairs started creaking from the heavy footsteps. The skin underneath Maxine’s fingers felt terribly cold when she pulled back. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t pull back before Lorraine appeared, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to her coworker.

Maxine just smiled.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” Lorraine asked. Anyone that didn’t know her well would have missed the slight elevation in her tone. A dangerous tone.

“Just learnin’ a bit about each other,” Maxine said. Her hand rested on your arm again and you felt a heat in your cheeks. “Since we’re stuck here together and all.”

Like the dutiful girlfriend, you hid your head in Beau’s neck and tried to ignore his slight shake of silent laughter.

That tension didn’t end even as the sun set and stars came out to play. Everyone relaxed and had their fun and it reminded you of nights with just the four of you. Laughing, teasing, seeing Huck and Beau get closer than when they were at your house. Not too close, but it was still enough. Hell, it was almost enough to ease the usual anger from Lorraine being with R.J.

Until a few days later when it was time for everyone to start paying up on their lost bets.

The days had already started off miserably. Since you were “officially” Beau’s girlfriend, you were set to share a bed with him. But when Huck snuck in and you all tried to fit three people on a twin size mattress? Well, that was just borderline impossible. Clearly it wasn’t fully impossible, seeing as how you all made it work, but that didn’t mean you actually slept at all through the night.

Tack onto that Lorraine and R.J. coming down at the same time each morning, and you realised that you were horribly, terribly alone? You would have killed someone to get even just a single blanket and a big empty spot on the floor. Let you lie like a dog while everyone else became stars.

The first to suffer was, of course, you. Now, you would admit, you had offered to pay up first. In your convoluted train of thought, the sooner you watched Lorraine’s scene, the sooner you could forget it. At least that was what you believed would happen. You hoped that’s what would happen.

But in the moment, as you watched Lorraine getting ready, you knew it wouldn’t be quite that simple. You had to watch her move, see the look on her face, listen to her moans. She certainly never sounded like that when you were with her. Was this something that she genuinely enjoyed? Were you nothing more than a pleasant distraction when she was practically forced to go back home?

“I can’t do this,” you whispered to yourself. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as everyone watched you back out of the room, practically tripping over your own feet in your haste. Each step felt like the ground was rushing up to meet you, even as you stayed perfectly upright. You wished you would just trip down the stairs, maybe then it would ease the spiraling of your thoughts.

Downstairs wasn’t much better when you were still aware of exactly what was going on upstairs. Did you mean anything to her? Really, truly? Surely you did, Lorraine was hardheaded, she wouldn’t entertain your presence if she didn’t want you there. On the other hand, she kept RJ around for nothing, so maybe you were on the same level.

You picked up one of the books you had found the other day; some book called The Dead Sea Scriptures. It wasn’t all that fantastic, your daddy actually had a copy in his office at the church. But at least it was a distraction. Just like you. Okay, that certainly wasn’t helpful. Maybe you needed a stiff drink too.

The Hollywood grade acting you did was enough to convince everyone you were just peachy. No one batted an eye when RJ, Wayne, and Jackson left the parsonage after finishing Lorraine’s scene. To get some more groceries, they had said. You didn’t care, it really didn’t matter one way or another where they went.

“So,” Maxine said as she sat down beside you on the couch. Well, she practically sat on you. “You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”

“I’m not explainin’ the book of Job,” you said without looking up from your book. “Jackson already believes there’s a dragon in it and I can’t have that argument again.”

“Not about that, silly,” she said; her hand was hot on your knee. “About you bein’ a third wheel.”

Oh you were not getting into that kind of conversation with Maxine. The past few days had been wonderful, and truthfully you had enjoyed it. They were all a bit… extravagant, but they were kind. As odd as it sounded to you, they felt more like family than most of your own family. You could see why Lorraine spent so much time with them even when she didn’t have to.

But you enjoying their company did not mean you wanted to get into the whole relationship conversation with Maxine.

“Your boys are some of those queers, huh?” She asked. “That’s why they’re up there filmin’ some fake scene while you’re down here.” Her hand squeezed right above your knee. “Readin’ some nerdy little book.”

“It was a bet,” you said. “We’ve always paid up, ever since we were little.” She smirked. “And my book ain’t nerdy.”

“It bother you that you gotta share your man?” She asked, as if you hadn’t even said anything in the first place.

“I-”

“-did you really start without me?” Bobby-Lynn asked when she appeared in the downstairs living room.

You did your best to conceal your displeasure when Bobby-Lynn practically ran over to sit on the other side of you. Her legs were bare, her denim shorts barely covering any part of her. She swung them over your own legs quickly, leaving you officially trapped underneath the both of them. You would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“How far did ya get?” Bobby-Lynn asked. She was practically bouncing in excitement.

“We just started,” Maxine answered with a smile that would have made you squirm if you weren’t so focused on trying to figure out what was going on.

“Don’t y’all have scenes to shoot?” You asked in a desperate attempt to get them to leave you alone before they really got started.

“Don’t you have someone you should be thinkin’ about?” Maxine asked.

You opened your mouth instinctively, ready to argue, especially when Bobby-Lynn continued to lean closer. They both had some nerve to believe they could catch you off guard with their interrogation that was only just beginning. They had known you for, what, all of a few days? And still they thought they could get something like this out of you? They were pornstars, not detectives.

“Of course I’m thinkin’ about her-”

-maybe they were detectives.

You threw your head back against the couch, a groan leaving your lips. On either side of you, both women practically cheered, giving each other a high-five. It was disgusting, were you nothing more than a pawn in whatever game they were playing? Your daddy was right; couldn’t trust sinners.

You actively ignored the fact that you were one of them.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“It’s not like we couldn’t tell,” Maxine said.

What was that supposed to mean? How did they even notice? As far as you could remember, you hadn’t even spent hardly any time in the same room as Lorraine. How could they get some sort of scandal out of that? Let alone the fact you thought you had said maybe three words to her after she had helped you pray over set on that first day. No, none of that made sense.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said as you finally pulled yourself back upright, ignoring that Maxine’s and Bobby-Lynn’s faces were so close to yours they could kiss your cheeks if they wanted.

“You think every girl is fine with their boyfriend hookin’ up with another guy?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

You knew that would be the issue. You knew it, and you had told all three of them that it was shady at best. There was no logical reason for it, even if it was from some stupid bet. It may have been the 80s, but not everyone was as easy going as the four of you were. Not everyone was as understanding, and though that wasn’t the current issue, it still played its part.

“Not to mention all the lookin’ you’ve been doin’,” Bobby-Lynn chimed in. “You certainly ain’t lookin’ at Beau that way.”

“I-” you closed your mouth just as quickly as you had opened it. What were you going to say to argue? What could you say?

“Honey, we ain’t judgin’,” Maxine said. Her hand felt warm on your neck. She was far too close for comfort. “But this whole thing is pretty sad.”

“It ain’t that sad,” you pitifully attempted to argue.

“Darlin’, it’s downright painful,” Bobby-Lynn said. Her going back and forth with Maxine was giving you whiplash. “Ain’t never seen anyone pine like that.”

“It’s a bit pathetic,” Maxine said.

“Hey,” you said, your eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Hold your horses, that’s unnecessary.”

“Don’t be gettin’ so defensive,” Bobby-Lynn said with a smile that was to die for. “We’re here to help.”

“By throwin’ my self-esteem out the window?” You asked.

“Oh no,” Maxine said with a slowly growing smile, “it’s much better than that.”

This time, when your stomach twisted into knots again, you didn’t feel quite so dreadful about the upcoming plans.

—---

After Bobby-Lynn and Maxine had told you about their sneaky little plan, the parsonage had felt a little less like a prison. When all the guys got back and everyone finished upstairs, you almost felt at peace. There was still the lingering tension when both Lorraine and RJ were in the room, but you could work with it. And for once, you didn’t feel quite so bad when you met Lorraine’s eyes.

“How many scenes we got left?” Wayne asked when everyone settled downstairs for supper.

In a very selfless move, you had offered to cook. It certainly wasn’t because you didn’t want to have to look at anyone while Bobby-Lynn and Maxine got to work on their plan. That would have been selfish, and you were nothing if not a good, selfless, Christian girl.

“Only two or three, we can finish them tomorrow,” RJ said from his spot beside Lorraine on the couch.

“Me and Maxine have an addition to make,” Bobby-Lynn said.

“An addition?” Wayne asked. “What kind?”

“Well,” Maxine said, drawing out the word for longer than necessary, “we were thinkin’ our little Preacher would look awful pretty on her knees.”

“Excuse me?” Lorraine asked.

Suddenly, the food you were cooking required the utmost attention. It would be quite the shame if you burned something. After all, everyone back there was working rather hard on their scenes, they deserved a good meal, didn’t they? And if it gave you an excuse to not see the look on Lorraine’s face then, well, that’s just an added bonus.

“Fitting, ain’t it?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“And we’d take good care of her,” Maxine drawled. Oh, they were really testing the waters.

It seemed to be working.

“She’s not part of this,” Lorraine said.

“Wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” RJ said. “Might draw more attention to the film.”

“It’s smut, RJ,” she continued, “it draws enough attention on its own.”

“Well hold on now, let’s talk this out,” Wayne said.

Everyone started talking - except, you noticed, for Maxine - and you almost wanted to laugh. If you had known this was all it would take to get Lorraine on edge, you would’ve said something like this ages ago. It sounded like she didn’t even care that RJ was in the room. It was… a nice feeling.

“Did you plan this?” Beau asked, suddenly appearing beside you.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said softly with a shrug. “Everyone here has a mind of their own.”

“Well keep it up,” he said as he rested his hand on the small of your back, “because I think it’s workin’.”

“The answer’s no,” Lorraine said.

“Well why don’t we ask her?” Bobby-Lynn said.

Silence fell over the room quickly; it was suffocating. If you could have, you would have slunk away to the room you shared with the boys. Even before turning around you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Maybe, if you were really lucky, you could get away without actually answering the question.

That possibility was struck down the moment you turned your head to look out into the room.

Lorraine was looking at you expectantly, most likely believing she knew what you were going to say. In any other situation, she would have been right. You wanted no one but her, and everyone was more than aware of it. Well, everyone but Wayne, RJ, and potentially Jackson. Though judging by the way Jackson was looking at you, he knew too.

“Might be fun,” you said with a shrug and turned back around. “I can always repent next door.”

“Are you serious?” Lorraine asked.

At that you turned back around and leaned your hip against the counter. Was she really going to question you? After what she did for a living? Not once had you ever judged her for it, you had even helped her make light of it when she felt guilt creeping in. She had the nerve to question you?

“Like a heart attack, honey,” you said with far more confidence than you felt.

The look Lorraine gave you was deadly.

“Seems we got our answer,” Maxine said.

Lorraine missed the look she gave Bobby-Lynn.

—---

You hadn’t been asleep for long when the door of your room creaked open. Part of you wished it would have stayed closed; it was the first night you weren’t sleeping on the floor while Huck and Beau took the bed. Maxine was becoming a godsend; she’s the one who had convinced the boys to sleep in the van outside.

“Are you asleep?” Lorraine asked quietly after the door had clicked shut.

“Yes,” you said even as you sat up and looked at her.

She was in the nightgown you remembered getting her for her birthday. Her other one had been so old, there was no way it had even been comfy anymore. Not to mention she had made sure to let you know at every opportunity how badly she needed a new one. Clearly RJ hadn’t listened, so you had gotten it yourself. It was mighty cute, if you did say so yourself.

Lorraine tip-toed her way to the bed, whispering a quick “scoot over” before crawling underneath the covers with you. Even though the temperature outside was mild, her feet were freezing. Which she made sure to make you aware of when she stuck them against your legs, her smile taking over when you yelped and shivered.

“Were you serious about doin’ a scene with Bobby-Lynn and Max?” She asked as she reached out to force her folded hands between yours. She was freezing all over.

“Depends,” you said even as you started trying to warm up her hands. “Were you bein’ serious about tellin’ me no?”

“Of course I was,” she said indignantly.

“Then so was I,” you said.

Lorraine groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” you said just as quickly.

Even though you weren’t serious at all. That was never the actual plan. The plan was simply to get Lorraine jealous enough to come into the room and, what would you know, that’s exactly what she had done. Even if absolutely nothing else happened, you would be happy. At least you got to spend a night with her without having to keep it a total secret.

“Why would you want to do this?” She asked. “It’s not like you don’t know how it works.”

“Maybe I want to learn a few things,” you said with as much of a shrug as you could do lying on your side.

“What could you possibly learn from smut?” Lorraine asked. “It’s all fake.”

“Were all those noises you made fake?” You asked. “Cause you never do that with me.”

The look on her face was almost offensive. Her eyes lit up like she was in on some little secret. Was she really going to laugh at you? She never laughed at you, not even when she rightfully should. Her hand now cupping your jaw was not enough to distract from the fact she was laughing.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” She asked. “You think I don’t like havin’ sex with you?”

“Not that you don’t like it,” you said quickly. “Just that,” you sighed, “you don’t like it as much.”

Her thumb brushed against your bottom lip. “You make me feel things none of those guys could even dream of.”

“Well you have to say that now,” you said as you leaned further into her hand. “Otherwise I wouldn’t let you put your cold feet on me.”

Her smile slipped to something a little different, a bit more seductive. You didn’t put up any resistance as she used her elbow to push your shoulder until you were laying on the bed. With the same ease as you had seen numerous times, she followed, her legs on either side of you and her weight resting comfortable on top of you. A position you very much loved, even without the arousal that came with it.

“Is there any way I can convince you not to film tomorrow?” Lorraine asked, lowering her tone in such a way that had you squirming underneath her. “What can I do?”

God you were pathetic, she hadn’t even touched you yet.

It was supposed to be a simple question, but you took it to heart. Of course she could convince you, you weren’t planning on filming anyway, but what could you get out of this arrangement? There had to be something you truly wanted, especially now that you had some sort of leverage.

Ah. That was it.

“Somethin’ we haven’t done before,” you said. “Somethin’ you like.”

Her smile slowly grew as she thought of what she wanted. The weight on top of you shifted until her hands pressed your shoulders further into the mattress. You felt her breath on your lips before you felt her kiss, quick and soft and eager. It was enough to get your heart racing even when she pulled away. She was off you in a moment, practically running out of the room.

You sat up on your elbows and watched the open door. What was she doing? Surely she wasn’t going to just leave, right? No, she wouldn’t do that. Right? That had been one of her more mischievous smiles, and she was absolutely one for payback. But you also knew Lorraine was nothing if not eternally aroused, so surely she wouldn’t just leave.

At least she better not, because if she teased you like that only to go and get back in bed with RJ, you were going to lose your mind. You weren’t usually one to make a scene, but you could always make an exception. The wrath of God, and all that good preacher nonsense.

You’re in a house of sin.

Yes you were, and you were going to partake in it for the night. Repentance was only 50 feet and a few hours away. If Lorraine could remove her cross necklace during scenes, surely you could remove the guilt from your chest for a few hours. God may have been in the walls, watching your every move, but He could look away for the time. You were far past the point of caring.

By the time Lorraine came back into the room, you were already jittery. Her hands were behind her back as she closed the door quietly, the click almost inaudible. that mischievous smile was back, but you noticed the way she tapped her foot against the floor, still in the same spot.

“You promise you wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, her voice uncertain, carrying over the thick air.

“I’m sure,” you said, “just get over here.”

Her steps were slow, methodical on the straight path to the bed. The whole way her hands stayed behind her back. You wondered what she had, but you couldn’t think too hard. Hell, the sway of her hips could have made you forget your own name.

That familiar weight settled on you again as Lorraine straddled you, placing whatever was in her hands off to the side, just out of your sight. When  you tried to twist and look at it, she pressed down against your shoulders again, her lips instantly finding yours.

Her nightgown rested high on her thighs, and you were never one to keep your hands to yourself. She sighed when you slid your hands under her nightgown, resting on her hips. Her breath tickled on your cheek. You couldn’t hold back your quiet chuckle, which Lorraine returned, smiling into the kiss.

“Don’t tickle,” she mumbled against your lips.

“What,” you said just as softly, “that ain't romantic?”

She laughed again, eliciting the same sound out of you as your hands continued up. Your knuckles brushed against the underside of her breasts, transforming her laugh into something a little more breathy but no less joyful. A sound that, you decided, was much better than anything you had heard during her scene.

“Take it off, Raine,” you said.

“What's the magic word?” She said before sitting up straight.

“Please,” you said breathlessly.

She barely waited for the word to leave your mouth before she pulled the nightgown over her head. Every time you saw her undress was like the first time. Your heart raced as she uncovered every inch of skin, from her thighs to her hips to her breasts. Not a single space had been neglected by you in your times together, and you weren't going to start that night.

You sat up, keeping a hand on Lorraine's back to keep her in your lap. She didn't hesitate to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. It immediately shot a wave of arousal down your spine, pooling in your lower abdomen. And for once, that usual spark of guilt was absent.

“Yours too,” she barely managed to say between kisses.

You couldn't speak, simply nodded as you fumbled around like a teenager. Or course the hem of your shirt would hide from you on the one night you not only had Lorraine, but a bed. She laughed again and pulled away. You tried to chase her - you would always try to chase her - but she pulled back again and placed a finger to your lips.

“Let me help,” she said.

Her fingers were so light against your skin that it tickled. She found the hem of your shirt quickly but took her sweet time pulling it up. Those delectable nails of hers scratched against your skin the entire time. Over your sides, the sides of your breasts, the underside of your arms as you held them up for her to finish pulling the shirt off.

“Is this Beau’s?” She asked.

“It’s comfy,” you said meekly.

She tossed the shirt to the side. “You should wear one of mine sometime.”

“I thought you liked me better shirtless,” you teased.

“Maxine has a word for people like you,” Lorraine said when she pulled you back in for a kiss. “She'd call you a minx.”

“I like it,” you said, kissing her back and running your knuckles over her nipples. Her shiver was delightful. “Sounds downright sinful.”

“Stop talking,” she said.

And oh god you did. How could you even consider doing anything else when you were enveloped by her? Her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin, warm against yours. If kissing her was the final nail in your coffin, you would accept death gracefully and with no regrets.

She nipped your lip when you lightly pinched her nipples. Never hard enough to hurt, no, but just enough to draw the most perfect little yelp from her lips. In return, her hands fell to your ribs, pushing against you until you were laying on the bed again.

You shifted, pulling your knee up until you pressed against her. She let out a breathy sigh, but otherwise kept kissing you. There was just something mesmerizing about the way she tasted. An ambrosia not for the gods, but for you alone. A sustenance for your very mind, body, and soul.

“Take these off,” Lorraine said, pulling lightly against the pants that you had also stolen from Beau.

In your defense, he was your fake boyfriend.

“Will you take yours off?” You asked even though you had already started trying to take your pants off.

She nodded hastily. “I want to feel you for a moment.”

You would've happily let her feel you for as long as she wished. All she had to do was give you the smile she was giving you in that moment. The one she had before the accident, the one she saved exclusively for the times she was alone with you. If she looked at you like that for the rest of eternity, you would be in heaven.

Her skin was hot against yours as she laid completely on top of you. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and back as she tucked her head into your neck. Her breath tickled your collar bone, but you couldn't have been happier.

How could such peace be a sin? Such pure love, something that would not only be applauded but praised if you had but been born a man? What difference could there truly be, aside from the shape of your body. The guilt sparked in your chest once again, but this time, you quickly stomped it out.

You would not be shamed for loving Lorraine. Not that night.

The position you were both in was comfortable and, quite frankly, innocent. But that didn't ease the inferno that was still raging inside you. If you had the ability to have Lorraine to yourself more than once in a blue moon, you would have been satisfied. But the “lust of the flesh,” as daddy called it, was as present and angry as always.

Thankfully, Lorraine seemed to feel the same when you felt her hips move and you felt her arousal on your thigh.

“Wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, placing a seemingly innocuous kiss behind your ear.

“With you?” You asked. You placed your finger under her chin and lifted her face until you could see her eyes. “Always.”

She smiled and kissed you quickly before sitting up. You tried to sit up with her, but she used her bad hand to push you back down with ease. Not that it stopped you from trying to look around her to see the thing she had brought into the room. Her smile turned nervous, but no less excited as she finally turned back around.

“Is that-”

“-Maxine and Bobby-Lynn used one like it a few times,” Lorraine started to explain while she started pulling straps around your hips and thighs. “I asked ‘em to get me one not too long ago.”

“Jesus, Raine,” you said as she pulled the straps tighter.

“It works the same as-”

“-I can guess how it works,” you interrupted.

Her hands slowed to a stop as she finished securing the… phallic toy in place. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Lorraine,” you said as softly as you could, finally sitting up - as best you could without feeling too awkward - and placing your hand on the scarred side of her jaw. “I’m more than okay with it.” She leaned further into your hand. “If you asked me to wear only my boots and spurs, I would do it.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, her teasing smile coming back in full force.

“Don’t push your luck, Day,” you said before leaning forward to kiss her again.

She moaned softly into the kiss. “If I did it right, you should feel it too,” she said as she lifted herself onto her knees, hovering over you. “So let me know.”

You nodded and pulled her into a kiss. As curious as you were to watch, you wanted to feel her lips against yours. You knew the moment she lowered herself onto the toy; her gasp was to die for. Shorty, breathy, almost inaudible if you hadn’t been kissing her already. The sound alone was enough to leave you soaking and needy.

But then you felt the toy press against you, and you knew you were a goner. Lorraine stayed still in your lap, catching her breath, and you would have been more than happy to keep her there. If she moved, you swore you would cum on the spot. It wasn’t a feeling that was so much better than everything else, but simply the knowledge that you were both feeling something together.

“I guess it works,” Lorraine teased even though she could barely keep herself in control.

“It does,” you said through clenched teeth as you tried to stay strong when she started moving again.

She didn’t have to move for long before you pulled her into a kiss, holding her tight against you. You did your best to move your hips with her. It was awkward and clumsy, and you both laughed a little when, more than once, you moved wrong and the toy slipped out. But you were okay with that, because it meant you got to hear her little gasp again.

As wrong as it felt, you had to picture Jackson to get a good rhythm going, or at least to get started. Specifically, you thought of the way his hips had moved with each thrust. You knew you got it right when Lorraine moaned, her head falling to your shoulder. If you hadn’t been so focused on not cumming or losing your rhythm, you would’ve moaned just the same.

“Baby,” she mumbled against your neck. Her nails dug into your shoulders; you would have to cover the marks up in the morning.

You knew what she wanted; she only ever truly called you “baby” when she was almost ready to cum. And you were more than happy to oblige. You kept one arm wrapped tight around her waist, holding her in place while your free hand slid down her stomach. Past the almost unnoticeable scatter of scars and through that small patch of hair.

Her hips jolted against your hand when you brushed against her clit. It was sloppy work; you would need to get used to the unusual angle later. But clearly it didn’t matter, because while her moans stayed quiet, they got higher in pitch until she bit down on your shoulder.

You used that as your sign to follow her, not even needing three more thrusts before you tipped over the edge along with her. You held her tight, hyper aware of every inch of her skin against yours. Of the slick sweat that coated both your bodies. Of the sting of her teeth and nails, but you would rather die than have her stop. Of your breaths intermingling between you until you were of one breath, one heartbeat, one soul.

Heaven existed, and it was right in that moment with Lorraine.

“You’re bleedin’,” she said softly. You didn’t have to look to know what she meant.

“It’s alright,” you said, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head. “You can nurse me back to health later.”

Lorraine giggled. A light sound that reminded you of when you were all kids and you would do anything to get that sound out of her. It was a reminder of simpler times, back when you were too young to understand that everyone believed what you felt for each other was wrong. A sin. Back when love was just that; love.

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, pulling Lorraine with you. She made a small noise when the toy moved inside her, but quickly settled back onto your chest. Her nails felt good scratching lightly against your skin, more comforting than ticklish. A nervous habit of hers.

“Did you learn all that from Jackson?” She asked.

“Don’t remind me,” you said; she chuckled. “I ain’t proud to say I had to picture him there for a minute.”

“Well, you gave him a run for his money,” she said.

“Think so?” You asked; you felt her nod against your chest. “Cause you still didn’t make the same noises.”

“Because these were real,” she said. Her voice grew quiet. “Everything with you is real.”

You wished she wouldn’t say things like that. That she could just let you both lie there, comfortable in the silence. Everyone was aware of the situation, but just once you wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening. That you actually did get to love her without feeling shame or guilt.

You just pulled her closer.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you,” she repeated.

It wasn’t enough, but for the moment, you were going to pretend it was. For the moment, you could pretend this was your daily life. Being in the same bed as Lorraine, showing her just how much you loved her, how much she truly meant to you. Holding her tight until you were of the same body and spirit, because no matter what the world thought, you were.

It wasn’t enough. But it would do.

“Are you really goin’ to film a scene tomorrow?” Lorraine asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said. “Bobby-Lynn and Maxine just wanted to getcha all riled up.”

Lorraine lifted her head from your chest and lowered her brows.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you said with a smile.

“Sometimes I hate all of y’all,” she mumbled, quickly ducking her head back underneath your jaw. You still managed to catch the smile on her lips.

“I love you too, darlin’,” you said, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Now this. This was enough.

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 3

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, angst, alcohol

WC: 2.8K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

You met Denver when Bob got stationed at Lemoore. You had still been living in New Orleans, planning your move up to San Francisco, but it was taking a while because the magazine had you doing an Asia tour: Vietnam, Laos, Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore, Nepal. 

On your way back from Tokyo, you stopped in San Francisco to do some apartment hunting, before renting a car and driving down to Lemoore to visit Bob. 

He was still a newer member on the team; everyone but Denver had been there for years. They were a knit family, and he was the odd one out. But at least he had her. 

“You’re going to love her,” Bob said. He was teeming with excitement. Seeing him happy made you happy. You knew that he hadn’t quite fit in at Newport, his station before Lemoore. You knew that he desperately wanted to be part of a team. 

And he had found that with Denver. 

The bar was crowded. And hot. You were wearing a tiny tank top and a pair of denim shorts, not much of a going out outfit but Bob had insisted the two of you go straight to the bar so you could meet his friends. 

Bob weaved through the packed bar, his hand warm in yours, over toward one side of the curved wooden bar. You spotted the familiar khaki outfits that screamed military. Bob raised his free hand excitedly in a wave and you smiled up at him. 

“Hey guys,” he said, and a few of the khaki uniforms turned. Their eyes shamelessly rolled over you, and your hand in Bob’s, jaws going slack. 

“Floyd,” one of them, a classically attractive guy with a broad jawline, said. “Who’s the girl?” 

“Reid,” you said, sticking out one hand, keeping your left firmly in Bob’s. You shook his hand. 

“Harvard,” he said. 

You squinted. Another guy, even more ridiculously handsome, sidled up behind him. “I’m Fritz.”

You nodded. The other two were Omaha and Yale. The callsigns went in one ear and out the other. You were notoriously bad with names. 

And then you heard a small voice, like a delicate bird. “Stop drooling all over her, fuckheads. She’s way too hot for any of you.” 

All eyes turned to the right. A tiny redhead was making her way over to the group, her hands full of beer bottles. She handed one to Omaha and then another to Bob. Finally, her piercing green eyes landed on you and she smiled, holding out the remaining beer bottle. “You must be Sunny.” 

You grinned. “I am. You must be Denver.” 

“Sure hope so, otherwise I’m wearing someone else’s uniform.”

You laughed and took the beer, sipping it carefully. You watched Bob’s face light up as he spoke to the pilot. The casual way she put her hand on his forearm. How easy and light they were together. The way his eyes tracked her across the room. How she always brought him back into the conversation where he might have fallen out of it. 

For the rest of the night you snuck glances at the two of them. And for the first time you saw what Bob looked like when he was in love. 

“Hey.” Fritz approached you from your right, leaning against the wall where you had your butt pressed, staring out across the bar at Bob and Denver. 

“Hi,” you replied, taking a swig from the gin and tonic in your hand. You were tipsy, edging on drunk. 

Fritz followed your gaze. “They’re good together, don’t you think?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, they are. Never seen him like that before.” 

“Like what?” 

“So happy,” you replied. “Carefree.” The two of you watched as Bob laughed at something Denver said, her eyes sparkling as she faced him. 

“He looked pretty damn happy when he told us you were coming,” Fritz said. 

You shook your head. “Nothing like that.” 

Fritz moved slightly closer and you looked up at him with a smile. 

“Live nearby?” you asked. 

He grinned. “In fact, I do.” 

You took his hand, weaving through the crowd toward where Bob was standing near the bar next to Denver and Yale. “Bobby?” you said softly, raising a hand and pressing it to his upper arm. 

He turned around with a smile. “Hey Sunny, where’d you go?” 

You looked up at Fritz. “Just got another drink. I, uh, think we’re gonna head out. Can I call you tomorrow, get a ride back to your place?” 

He frowned. “Are you sure?” 

You felt Fritz’s hand slide into the back pocket of your jeans, fingers gripping the swell of your ass. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Bob looked between you and Fritz with narrowed eyes. “Sunny? Gonna ask you one more time, darlin’, are you sure?” 

You nodded then leaned up and kissed his cheek, letting your hand fall from his arm. “See you tomorrow, Bobby.” 

You let Fritz’s hand migrate to your low back, guiding you out of the bar and into the humid California night. You weren’t sure why, but it took everything you had not to turn around and take one last look at Bob before you walked out the door. 

Bob looked up at Denver with angry eyes. 

“I shouldn’t have let her go. She’s been here twelve hours, she has no idea where she is. Fritz is a goddamn stranger to her.”

“Reid can do what she wants, Floyd,” Denver said, leaning her small arm against the bar. “She’s a grown woman. Besides, Fritz is a puppy dog. You don’t have anything to worry about.” 

He shook his head. “I’m going after her.” He put his glass of seltzer down and started to walk toward the door when Denver grabbed him, yanking him back shockingly hard for such a small person. 

“Floyd! Snap out of it man. She isn’t yours.” 

“Yes, she is. She’s my responsibility, don’t you get that? I brought her here.”

Harvard shook his head. “Fuck, man, you’re down bad for her aren’t you?” 

Bob squinted his eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Harvard laughed. “See, I always thought you had a thing for Denver over here. But apparently you’re just the nerd in love with the hot girl next door. And she ditched you the first chance she got.”

Bob felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He lunged forward, but Denver grabbed his arm. “Come on, let’s get some air, Floyd.” 

He let her yank him out onto the back patio of the bar, anger already starting to pool in his stomach. 

“Is it because of Fritz, or is it because she left with anyone but you?”

Bob shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Please, Denver, just drop it.” 

“No. I won’t drop it. Tell me the truth. What is it about her that has you so wound up, ready to fucking combust?”

Bob sighed. “It’s just been me and Reid for a long time, OK? It’s a hard dynamic to change. That’s all, I promise.”

Her green eyes scanned his face. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Robert?” she asked softly, stepping closer. 

Bob raised his eyes to hers. “No, Sarah. I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

She nodded, lips pursed in a tight line. The two of them stood side by side, leaning against the railing of the patio, staring off into the distance in silence.

***

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, but somehow you ended up hosting a pizza night at the house as a way to repay the team for helping to unbox all your stuff that had finally arrived from Brooklyn, along with all of the new items you had purchased that had shown up on the doorstep, much to Bob’s dismay. 

The two of you arrived home one night to no less than twenty boxes from Crate & Barrel on the front porch. Bob turned to you with wide eyes and you gave him a small shrug across the middle console of the car, hopping out to examine the boxes. 

“Sunny,” he said, exasperated. “I said yes to redecorating. But what on Earth? Did you buy the whole store or what?” 

“Hate to break it to you, honey,” you said, opening the door and scooting the nearest box inside. “But your house? Your stuff? It’s depressing.” 

“I’m offended,” he said, following after you with a box in his arms. 

“No you’re not,” you replied. “And if you are, you’ll get over it when you see how much cute shit I got for us.” 

Bob groaned, digging in his pocket. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Calling in backup,” he said, hitting a button and lifting the phone to his ear. “Rooster? Yeah, can you and Hangman and Phoenix come over? Bring Coyote. Reid bought all this stuff and we’re never going to be able to unload it all ourselves.” He paused, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll buy you guys dinner.” 

He clicked off the phone and you laughed, already headed to your room to change into athletic clothing. “Remember that you love me!” you called from down the hall. 

“How could I ever forget?” Bob replied, shaking his head and grabbing a box cutter from the top drawer in the kitchen. 

That was how you found yourself sitting on the floor in the middle of Bob’s kitchen unwrapping a set of Estelle colored wine glasses and handing them to Phoenix, who was carefully placing them in a cabinet. 

In the living room, Rooster and Hangman were fighting over the instructions for the media center that you had ordered, while Bob was chatting with Coyote as he built a coffee table. 

You handed a blue stemless wine glass to Phoenix who took it with a smile. “So, how are you liking San Diego?” 

You shrugged. “It’s alright. I like the beach nearby.” 

“Bob said you’ve lived all over the place.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ve bounced around a lot. I did New Orleans, Seattle, Austin, SF, London, Barcelona. Most recently I was in Greenpoint.” 

Phoenix put one hand on her slim hip. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why here, then? Sounds like you’ve lived in the best cities in the US, maybe even the world. So why the hell would you want to move to San Diego?” 

You looked out over into the living room. “It’s the only place where I can see him every day.” 

Phoenix raised an eyebrow as you stood up from the floor, dusting off your knees with your hands. “Bradshaw is gonna ask you out. Even got a blessing from Floyd.” 

You turned to her. “Bob said yes?” 

She nodded. “Wasn’t too convincing, but he said Bradshaw was free to do whatever he liked. So just keep an eye out. He’s a good guy, Rooster. You could do worse.” 

You ducked down, opening a new box to reveal a set of ivory plates. “I’m not really looking to date right now.” 

“Anyone, or does that just apply to Rooster?”

“You two gossiping about me?” Bradley appeared in your field of vision, guzzling from a water bottle on the counter. He set it down and wiped his mouth, revealing a wide grin. 

You looked at Phoenix with panic and she cleared her throat. “Was just telling Reid here that you’re a sore loser because Hangman beat you at darts last week.” 

“Fuck, it was one time!” Rooster tossed his hands up and his genuine nature made you laugh. He dropped his hands and smiled. “Listen, Reid, if you’re not busy tomorrow, I’d love to take you to dinner.” 

You hesitated. What you had told Phoenix wasn’t a lie. You moved to San Diego to spend time with Bob. It wasn’t about a new crop of potential suitors. But the way that Bradley was smiling down at you, and the broadness of his shoulders, and the air in the kitchen, all had you nodding. “Sure,” you said softly. “I’d love to.” 

Bradley smiled so wide it threatened to split his face in half. “Great. I’ll pick you up here, say seven thirty?” 

You nodded. The rest of the night was spent unpacking boxes, you and Phoenix largely sequestered to the kitchen. Hangman and Rooster finally stopped yelling at each other long enough to get the black wood and cane media console set up and you watched with a grin as all four men argued about how exactly the tv should be set up. 

At the end of the night, you swept the empty pizza boxes into a trash bag and followed everyone out into the driveway to say goodbye, dumping the trash inside the can near the garage door. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said lightly to Bradley and he stepped closer, kissing your cheek softly.

“See you tomorrow Reid.” 

He walked away and you heard Jake huff to himself, muttering under his breath, “What does fucking Bradshaw have that I don’t?” 

You smirked to yourself, waving to Phoenix as she got in her truck, before heading back inside. In the kitchen, Bob was wiping down the counter, placing the last beer can in the recycling. 

“Good work tonight,” you said, looking around with your hands crossed over your chest. You still had some boxes to unpack and you were lacking a dining room table, but the living room was practically brand new. 

Bob shook his head. “You didn’t have to do this, Sunny.” 

“Um, I kind of did if I didn’t want to live in a frat basement for a house.” 

“It wasn’t that bad.” “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You slipped past him, opening the fridge and pulling out a water bottle. “Alright, I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed. Goodnight.” 

You started down the hall when Bob’s voice stopped you. “Are you really going out with Bradley tomorrow?”

You turned. Bob stood in the middle of the hallway, his hands in his pockets. There was an air around him that you couldn’t place. You nodded. “Yeah, I am. Phoenix said you told Bradley it was OK to ask me out.” 

Bob grunted, turning around and heading for the kitchen, breaking down a cardboard box in frustrated silence. 

You followed him back into the kitchen, one hand on your hip. “Bobby? Are you mad? Do you not want me to date your colleague, is that what this is about?” 

“You always do this, Reid,” he said, shaking his head. There was something unnerving about Bob calling you by your first name. It was always Sunny, honey, darlin’, sweetheart. Never Reid. 

“Do what?” 

Bob looked up. “You leave a trail of men everywhere we go, Reid. I get it. You’re the anywhere-but-here girl. But you have to realize that you can’t do that this time. This is my life you’re walking into. You’re meeting my friends, living in my house. You told me you were settling down this time. But you’re still acting like the same Reid as before.” 

“And who exactly is that?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Bob let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to do this right now.” 

“You started this,” you practically shouted. “So fucking end it, Bobby. How am I acting?”

“You’re doing what you always do!” he yelled. “You’re acting like the Reid that fucks any guy that’s halfway decent to you. And then you run away before it can become anything more than a one night stand because you’re fucking terrified of having to stay and owning up to responsibility for the first time in your life. You just steamroll over everyone and everything, have your fun and then you’re gone. And you’ve always been like that. But this time you don’t get to just flit off to Mexico or Sweden or Croatia and send me a little gift basket and act like it never happened. This time you’re fucking with the people in my life, Reid, and it will have consequences. For once can you care about someone other than yourself and look at the situation and realize that what you do impacts me, too?”

The two of you stood, frozen, in the kitchen. The tension in the air was palpable. You could count on one hand the number of fights you and Bob had gotten into over the last nine years. 

This was one of them. 

Your eyes were locked on Bob’s blue ones. You watched as his face fell. As the realization of what he had just said washed over his familiar face. 

“Sunny,” he murmured, stepping closer and you shook your head, backing away. 

“No.” You whispered it, but there was venom laced in the word. “Don’t you dare try and take that back,” you added. “Because you can’t.” 

“Honey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

You whipped around, practically jogging down the hall toward the stairs at the front of the house. 

“Reid!” 

You climbed the stairs, two at a time, and slammed the door to your room, locking it behind you, sliding down against the back of the door onto the ground in a heap. 

You hated fighting with Bob. But this time, what you hated the most was that he was right. 

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[flu5zn]

✼⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀،،⠀SO S!CK⠀┉⠀is a fictional co-ed band formed in new england by its members as an independent act in january 2011. consisting of COREY, DEVIN, KIAN, and BILLIE, the band began playing college bars across the region while simultaneously posting song covers to youtube.

the early beginnings of attention placed on the band were first drawn from their respective universities. with corey and devin both attending yale university, they quickly became established as a popular college band, appearing across new haven before eventually being invited to perform at bars associated with other ivy league schools in the area. with kian joining the band's older members at yale and billie beginning to attended columbia university, their popularity would skyrocket, eventually allowing them to notoriety necessary to rent out a small studio for the formal recording of their first original body of work.

securing their manager, DENVER OWENS, would prove to be instrumental in so sick's rise in national prominence before the band would sign an exclusive recording contract just five years after forming.

though active in both the asian and western markets, the band has notably struggled to grasp commercial attention in south korea. despite this, members corey and kian frequently appear in korean programming due to their status as members of the highly influential kim family. similarly, billie, has become a rising star within vietnamese media, even securing a spot as a judge on vietnam idol in 2023.

&.⠀ʿʿ⠀✹ ﹕ it's all romanticism, nonsense, rottenness, art.⠀⸻⠀MEMBER PROFILES.

CORNELIUS ALFRED KIM, better known by his stage name COREY KIM, was born the eldest son of business mogul charles kim and his wife, gemini inc. chairwoman, johanna yeun kim on july 27, 1993 in hamburg, germany. from a young age corey made it known that he was a square peg in a family of perfectly rounded circles. he was thoughtful to a fault, much too sensitive for the ruthless expertise necessary for the businesses he would inevitably lead in his fathers' stead.

a torublemaker at heart, corey's interest in the heavy rock records he collected on vinyl only initially served as a rejection of his impending responsibilities. convinced musical success could free him from his imagined shackles of affluence, corey was the one to first bring the band together in 2011. undeniably, corey continues to be the glue of so s!ck, often acting as the mediator between the ambitions of devin and the sober rationalities of kian.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

STAGE NAME: COREY

BIRTH NAME: cornelius alfred kim

OTHER NAME: kim jaeyoung

DATE OF BIRTH: july 27, 1993

ZODIAC SIGN: leo

PLACE OF BIRTH: hamburg, germany

HOMETOWN: new york city, usa

ETHNICITY: south korean

NATIONALITY: german & american

LANGUAGES: german, english, korean

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE CAREER.

OCCUPATION: singer-songwriter, guitarist

YEARS ACTIVE: 2011 - present

LABEL: kayak72

BAND: SO S!CK

POSITION: frontman, lead vocalist, guitarist

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE APPEARANCE.

HEIGHT: 6’2” (188 cm)

TATTOOS: n/a

PIERCINGS: n/a

FACECLAIM: woo dohwan

born and raised the third of five daughters, CHRISTINA XIE has never been a stranger to inconsistencies. from her parents' secret divorce to the six cities she had called home before her 16th birthday, her family was never anchored anywhere long enough for devin to care much for anything.

from a young age, she was quite aware of her surroundings. aware of the tension between her parents, aware of her changing environments, but most importantly: aware of the pressure to succeed. the daughter of two celebrity lawyers, devin recognized very early on that she only ever truly fit in with the other misfit kids who stuck to the back rooms of the fancy galas she couldn't stand.

her family's move to new york city in devin's freshman year of high school brought not only new vices to get high off in the school bathrooms, but also a blossoming friendship with a dark haired boy with darker under eyes and an impressive vinyl collection to match. corey and devin's friendship slowly moved from listening to his grungy recordings of their favorite bands to crafting recordings of their own in euphoric stupors in the early mornings before classes.

though corey would never admit it, devin's slow source of joy in the music they'd made together would eventually lead him to assemble a band of their own the summer before their freshman year at yale. as so s!ck's lead guitarist, devin takes an active role in the composition of the band's music, drawing influence from bands like fleetwood mac, paramore, coldplay, and u2.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

STAGE NAME: DEVIN

BIRTH NAME: christina xie

OTHER NAME: xie ting

DATE OF BIRTH: august 21, 1993

ZODIAC SIGN: leo

PLACE OF BIRTH: santa ana, usa

HOMETOWN: new york city, usa

ETHNICITY: chinese

NATIONALITY: american

LANGUAGES: english, korean

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE CAREER.

OCCUPATION: singer-songwriter, composer, lead guitarist

YEARS ACTIVE: 2011 - present

LABEL: kayak72

BAND: SO S!CK

POSITION: vocalist, lead guitarist

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE APPEARANCE.

HEIGHT: 5’4” (163 cm)

TATTOOS: thirteen total

PIERCINGS: seven total

FACECLAIM: amber yang

born the second son to charles and johanna kim on october 15, 1995, MARKUS KIM, usually referred to by his middle name, KIAN, often found himself happiest when he was on his own. the title, "corey kim's younger brother" never bothered him much considering the fact that his brother's peers would never be his own. if anything, in kian's mind, he often reversed the misconceptions people had founded about their family based on his older brother.

the overachieving, know-it-all of the family, kian never struggled with knowing what his place was within the family. frequently, he would even find himself picking up the responsibilities corey had left behind in favor of whatever it was he did in the early hours of the morning. he had his mind set on the future much earlier than most even decide what their favorite color was.

his initial interest in music was brushed off by his family who knew better than to believe he had found an interest other than the family business. but as he began to use music as a free release of negative energy, they all began encouraging him to pursue the industry in hopes of what opportunities it might present him. along the way somehow, corey managed to convince kian to join his band. although apprehensive at first, kian joined the band, figuring he would follow in corey's footsteps for once. currently, kian is the bassist of the group, often lending his talents to playing keyboard for the band as well.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

STAGE NAME: KIAN

BIRTH NAME: markus kian kim

OTHER NAME: kim jaehwan

DATE OF BIRTH: october 15, 1995

ZODIAC SIGN: libra

PLACE OF BIRTH: hamburg, germany

HOMETOWN: new york city, usa

ETHNICITY: south korean

NATIONALITY: german & american

LANGUAGES: german, english, korean

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE CAREER.

OCCUPATION: singer-songwriter, bassist, keyboardist

YEARS ACTIVE: 2011 - present

LABEL: kayak72

BAND: SO S!CK

POSITION: vocalist, bass guitarist

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE APPEARANCE.

HEIGHT: 5’11” (180 cm)

TATTOOS: n/a

PIERCINGS: n/a

FACECLAIM: im changkyun

WILHELMINA HUỲNH was born to her parents on a quiet night in december. that quietness seemed to be a common theme throughout her young life. speaking very sparingly until the age of 5, billie always had an appreciation for stillness. it was often in the stillness that she was able to get away from the constant doting of her parents who were particularly protective over their youngest daughter.

early on, billie ventured into child modeling even being featured by major brands throughout elementary and middle school. although she loved getting all dressed up, it wasn't uncommon for billie to throw silent, pouty fits to her parents' dismay.

always a girl of very few words, her parents enlisted the help of a close friend to teach billie to play the piano. unknowingly, they ushered in a love for music within the young girl that would continue to determine her dreams for at least another decade.

becoming friends with kian kim and his older brother corey in her freshman year of high school proved to be the greatest decision billie ever made. particularly so when corey begged her to join his band after discovering her musical talent. continuing to be a girl of few words, billie is regarded as the most elusive member of the band and therefore, one of the more popular members.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

STAGE NAME: BILLIE

BIRTH NAME: wilhelmina mai linh huỳnh

DATE OF BIRTH: december 27, 1995

ZODIAC SIGN: capricorn

PLACE OF BIRTH: atlanta, usa

HOMETOWN: new york city, usa

ETHNICITY: vietnamese

NATIONALITY: american

LANGUAGES: english, vietnamese, korean

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE CAREER.

OCCUPATION: singer-songwriter, drummer

YEARS ACTIVE: 2011 - present

LABEL: kayak72

BAND: SO S!CK

POSITION: vocalist, drummer

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE APPEARANCE.

HEIGHT: 5’6” (168 cm)

TATTOOS: n/a

PIERCINGS: n/a

FACECLAIM: lynhci

[richincolor]

Audrey's 2023 Favorites

I always like digging through the books I read at the end of the year to decide which will claim a spot on my favorites list. Even though I've decided to crown just four with the title, I'm pretty pleased with the variety of genres represented. If you haven't had a chance to check any of these out yet, I'd encourage you to add them to your wish list or local library's wait list!

This Time It’s Real by Ann Liang Scholastic || My review

When seventeen-year-old Eliza Lin’s essay about meeting the love of her life unexpectedly goes viral, her entire life changes overnight. Now she has the approval of her classmates at her new international school in Beijing, a career-launching internship opportunity at her favorite magazine…and a massive secret to keep. Eliza made her essay up. She’s never been in a relationship before, let alone in love. All good writing is lying, right? Desperate to hide the truth, Eliza strikes a deal with the famous actor in her class, the charming but aloof Caz Song. She’ll help him write his college applications if he poses as her boyfriend. Caz is a dream boyfriend -- he passes handwritten notes to her in class, makes her little sister laugh, and takes her out on motorcycle rides to the best snack stalls around the city. But when her relationship with Caz starts feeling a little too convincing, all of Eliza’s carefully laid plans are threatened. Can she still follow her dreams if it means breaking her own heart?

My Flawless Life by Yvonne Woon Katherine Tegen Books || My review

At the most elite private school in Washington, DC., whenever anyone has a problem that they need to go away, they hire Hana Yang Lerner. Hana is a fixer. She knows who to call, what to say, and how to make sure secrets stay where they belong—buried. She can fix anything. Except her own life, which was destroyed when her father, senator Skip Lerner, was arrested for an accident that left one woman nearly dead. Now Hana’s reputation is ruined and her friends are gone. So when she gets a job from an anonymous client called “Three” to follow her former best friend, Luce Herrera, Hana realizes this might be her way of getting back her old life. But the dangerous thing about digging is that you never know what you’ll unearth. As Hana uncovers a dark truth about her supposedly flawless classmates, she’s forced to face a secret of her own.

Midnight Strikes by Zeba Shahnaz Delacorte Press || My review

Seventeen-year-old Anaïs just wants tonight to end. As an outsider at the kingdom’s glittering anniversary ball, she has no desire to rub shoulders with the nation’s most eligible (and pompous) bachelors—especially not the notoriously roguish Prince Leo. But at the stroke of midnight, an explosion rips through the palace, killing everyone in its path. Including her. The last thing Anaïs sees is fire, smoke, chaos . . . and then she wakes up in her bedroom, hours before the ball. No one else remembers the deadly attack or believes her warnings of disaster. Not even when it happens again. And again. And again. If she’s going to escape this nightmarish time loop, Anaïs must take control of her own fate and stop the attack before it happens. But the court's gilded surface belies a rotten core, full of restless nobles grabbing at power, discontented commoners itching for revolution, and even royals who secretly dream of taking the throne. It's up to Anaïs to untangle these knots of deadly deceptions . . . if she can survive past midnight.

She is a Haunting by Trang Thanh Tran Bloomsbury YA || My review

When Jade Nguyen arrives in Vietnam for a visit with her estranged father, she has one goal: survive five weeks pretending to be a happy family in the French colonial house Ba is restoring. She’s always lied to fit in, so if she’s straight enough, Vietnamese enough, American enough, she can get out with the college money he promised. But the house has other plans. Night after night, Jade wakes up paralyzed. The walls exude a thrumming sound, while bugs leave their legs and feelers in places they don’t belong. She finds curious traces of her ancestors in the gardens they once tended. And at night Jade can’t ignore the ghost of the beautiful bride who leaves her cryptic warnings: Don’t eat. Neither Ba nor her sweet sister Lily believe that there is anything strange happening. With help from a delinquent girl, Jade will prove this house—the home her family has always wanted—will not rest until it destroys them. Maybe, this time, she can keep her family together. As she roots out the house’s rot, she must also face the truth of who she is and who she must become to save them all.

[simplysummers]

You Were My Sunshine…My Only Sunshine?

Summary: Despite his hardened exterior, Alex had always assumed that no matter the state of their relationship, he would always share a special bond with his mother. But when he’s forced to return home a few weeks before his departure for Vietnam…and he finds out that his parents are expecting another baby twenty three years after his own birth, Alex is forced to confront not only the suspicious situation, but also the emotionally taxing experiences that had chipped away at his familial relationships to the point where both he and his parents had found replacements to heal the cracks that had been left in their hearts by one another.

He'd always had a soft spot for the sun.

It was a sappy secret that somebody like Alex Summers usually would've wanted to take to his grave to protect his hardened repute, but the shame didn't wash away the sincerity of the fondness. Most who knew of his puerile ignominy, which was a select few in of itself, thought the reason behind such a love was either due to a play-on coincidence regarding his last name, the sun making him think of the hottest season, which was homonymous with his last name, and others believed it to be because his place of birth was the ever so sunny Hawaii, where he'd been lucky enough to spend the first ten years of his life.

And while the rays of the sun on his face and the warm breeze flickering against his skin in the summer did often make him think of his home state- although it hadn't officially become a state until Alex was nineteen- it still remained second to the real incentive. Even so, he still did miss the glittering waters and the palm trees that offered you little shade back in Honolulu, alongside how he'd share a popsicle with his mother after dinner, and play hopscotch in the sand with the other military soldier's children.

Those memories and ideas alone were overly sentimental, but they were nowhere near as damaging to his harsh reputation as the real reason behind the rare affection.

And that real reason in question was a song.

It was a senseless song, popularised before Alex was even a thought in 1940, and it had been drilled into his soft, developing skull from the moment he'd began growing from a clump of useless cells inside of his mother's womb.

It had actually been one of her favourite records, released two years before her son was born, and she'd played it every day while twirling around their small kitchen and stroking her growing stomach, practically petting the little life inside of her as if it were the most precious gift she could’ve ever possessed, or so Alex had been told by his family members.

As the blond practically collapsed onto the worn bed in his old adolescent bedroom, the smell of the airless atmosphere amalgamating with the thick layer of dust covering the unused shelves and desk infiltrating his nose, he listened to the same track playing from down the hall, the song immediately recognisable despite the slight muffle of closed doors. It was most likely spinning from the same record player, in its same cracked and faded brown case, with its identical rusting needle. The last time he'd heard the song had been in the summer of 1952, four months before his tenth birthday...thirteen long and difficult years ago.

He could almost hear Charles' voice in his head insisting he didn't overthink the situation, and considering the older man was a telepath the chance of that being a reality wasn't slim, but whether Charles was really festering in his mind or not didn’t matter, Alex still couldn't help it. Over the past three years his brain had been coaxed out of its numb, passive state, retrained to be less closed off and much more open with his new friends and family without losing his witty personality, and when it started to run, it usually didn't stop.

In all fairness, it hadn't been Alex's fault that he'd immediately hopped to such a bold conclusion. From the moment his mother had called her oldest child to let him know that they were expecting a new baby, twenty three years after the Summers' had welcomed their first child into the world, he'd immediately been slightly suspicious of their motives. Charles had said that his parents' decision to have another child later on in life wasn't extremely peculiar or far fetched despite the circumstances, but Alex knew better, he knew them.

Continuation

[puniper]

Puniper can we please get an atom the beginning update? What’s going on in in

hmmm.. aaah, im bad at retelling so here is a summary of part 2 so far in bullet points

Takes place 20 years after part 2 and the main characters are Tobio and Botan (Shunsaku's and Ran's daughter/Ochanomizu's niece)

Tobio spent 3 years in Vietnam for a brain surgery and rehabilitation, apparently he was born with some weird defect and had to have an AI chip implanted in his brain also while he was there Pink taught him martial arts, which he uses to beat up a bunch of kids that were bullying him on his first day of class

Due to what happened in part 1 with A108 (basically bewusstein infecting robots and making them go haywire and kill people), AI research was restricted and autonomous AIs have been banned in Japan, so most robots that currently exist are pretty archaic, A106 and A107 were sealed and been kept stored in Ochanomizu's lab ever since, AI being banned is also the reason why Tobio had to go to Vietnam for his brain implant

Tenma drops by Ochanomizu's lab and ask him if he can unseal A106 and A107 so that Tobio can meet them, he makes the most pathetic meow meow face and manages to convince him, when Six wakes up, he immediately makes connection with Tobio's brain chip, so basically they can talk to each other telepathically now

Since they can't bear to shut them down again, Tenma takes A106 to his house meanwhile Shunsaku and Ran take A107 to theirs, at Tenma's place we learn that Hoshie's mom, Tsukie is in the hospital with like a few weeks left to live, she has a brain tumour caused by a brain implant like the one Tobio has. Turns out that using brain chips to communicate with machines is extremely harmful because human brains can't handle the speed information is transmitted between machines so that shit will kill you long term.

So naturally Tobio takes Six to his room and tells him the way they connected with each other was sooooooooo cool and they should do it again, Six refuses and says he doesn't want to harm him so Tobio promises that he understands and won't ask him again (this is a lie), he's also keeping the fact he and Six can communicate a secret from Tenma and Hoshie

Which brings us to the current chapter, Tobio and Botan dress up Six and A107 so that people can't recognize them and take them for a walk, there they spot Tobio's classmates (which are all punkass delinquent kids btw) who are planning to play a prank during the prime minister's speech, they're gonna throw a bag that has a smokescreen to scare people into thinking its a bomb, Six reacts immediately and jumps into action to grab the bag and throw it away, one of the prime minister's bodyguards sees him and tries to give chase, meanwhile Tobio is yelling asking Six where he is and to reply to him via his brain chip since 'its an emergency', Six tells him what happened and Tobio has an idea to meet up with Six before he's found and change clothes with each other to try to fool the bodyguard thats looking for him

After Tobio exchanges clothes with Six he lets himself be caught and says he's just playing 'hero' with his friends and the smokescreen was just a harmless game, however the bodyguard isn't convinced and asks him to come to the police station, that's where we are so far

Oh yeah I should mention that when A106 and A107 woke up, we get a glimpse of A108 who apparently is still around and still very very mad and violent so thats gonna be a shitshow lol

[avictimofthejazz]

@caughtthefever

Grinding the stub of his cigar out in the ashtray, Face anxiously glanced around the hotel lobby before turning his attention toward Amy. She had been sitting next to him, likely approaching this situation with a good deal more patience than he had been able to muster. Luckily for him, for the most part he could keep his emotions tucked in his head and off his face… unless Hannibal particularly infuriated or unsettled him. Even then, those lapses were around his family. That was different. While he counted Amy in that cohort, the rest of the people in the Beverly Wilshire lobby decidedly did not, especially the sleazy jetsetter they were waiting for. The man was due to come in from a glamourous route taking him through Rio, Sao Paolo, Buenos Aires, Santiago, and Lima, before rounding his trip through Mexico City, and enjoying a vacation in Acapulco. He was finally due back in Los Angeles though… and what most people did not realize was that his luggage would be loaded with the easiest commodity in the world to smuggle—information. If Mousier Baptiste Noyer was merely smuggling diplomatic secrets or spying for someone, Face would have a better idea how to handle this case. But a man who traveled through poorer countries, and lifted designs and ideas off the locals before claiming them for his own fashion line… what was the client expecting the A-Team to do about that? The client, incidentally, was one of Noyer’s employees who thought his practices unethical. Why Hannibal had accepted the job, instead of directing the young woman to take her complaints elsewhere, still eluded Face. The only thing he could think of was that Hannibal suspected if a man could smuggle fashion designs and copies of local motifs so easily, he might be able to smuggle more serious things like weapons plans, state documents, confidential information… information that actually mattered in the grand scheme of the world. If Hannibal had those thoughts in mind though, he had neglected to share them with Face. Folding up his newspaper and dropping it in his lap, Face finally turned toward Amy. “I should have asked this earlier Amy… how’s your French?” His own was quite good, if a bit rusty and oddly pronounced. While the nuns made sure he learned the basics in high school, he really perfected the language while working in South Vietnam… but he had never been able to shake off a few pronunciation habits peculiar to that formerly colonized corner of Asia. “I thought Noyer would show up by now—he always stays at the Wilshire when he’s in LA. His flight could be running late though… or he got mugged somewhere and dropped in a ditch.” While Face had a decent soft spot for the various countries he had traveled to in that end of the world, and had friends in most of them, he also knew they were hardly safe countries. For a couple of Green Berets, they were fine. For one rich guy running around? Well…dumb rich guys were prone to accidents anywhere they went.

[colemonroe]

TASK 6.– character development sheet

Character Chart Character’s full name: Cole Michael Monroe Reason or meaning of name: While the name Cole didn’t have much significance to his mother, Michael most certainly did. Diana chose Michael as her son’s middle name as a tribute to her older brother and the man who would eventually become the first father figure Cole ever had. Birth date: April 14, 1985 Zodiac: Aries

Physical appearance Age: Thirty-seven Height: 6′1″ Body build: Athletic, toned Eye color: Blue Glasses or contacts: Not yet Hair color: Dirty blond Hairstyle: Almost always slicked back Voice: Slow, southern drawl characteristic of east Tennessee Overall attractiveness: Pretty fucking hot, I suppose?? Usual fashion of dress: Leather and denim. He’s almost always in a pair of worn out jeans, a simple t-shirt or flannel button down with his SOS cut overtop. For shoes…it’s always his beat up black cowboy boots. Jewelry or accessories: There’s a necklace he always wears that has a bullet that his uncle brought back from the Vietnam War and had engraved with “SOS,” for the Sons of Silence. On that same chain is a ring his mother used to wear before her passing. It’s a simple, silver band that bears the initials, “DEM,” Diana Elaine Monroe. It’s a way to keep both Diana and Michael close to him and he never takes it off. He also wears a collection of rings, most of which were gifted to him over the years. Most notable is the compass ring given to him by his sponsor when he patched into SOS to always remind him of truth north. Personality Good personality traits: Charismatic, determined, passionate, intuitive, protective Bad personality traits: Impulsive, aggressive, impatient, reckless Mood character is most often in: Contemplative Sense of humor: Light and inappropriate Character’s greatest joy in life: Being a Son Character’s greatest fear: His lifestyle bleeding over onto the people he loves Character is most at ease when: He’s on the open road or in the fighting ring. Most ill at ease when: In the middle of the unknown. Priorities: the Sons of Silence, his relationships, the autoshop, righting as many wrongs as he can. Life philosophy: The respect you give is the respect you’ll get. Character’s soft spot: Children Is this soft spot obvious to others?: Yes; about a year into his presidency, he enlisted the Sons in a worldwide biker foundation solely dedicated to battling and preventing violence against children. Greatest strength: His resilience  Greatest vulnerability or weakness: His rage Biggest regret: Not knowing how/being able to help his mother with her battle with addiction Biggest accomplishment: Being voted President of the Sons Character’s darkest secret: He murdered his father, Jeffrey Decker. Does anyone else know?: Yes…but only a select few for now. Goals Drives and motivations: Protecting those he cares about, furthering the aims of the club, endlessly pursuing a better version of himself Immediate goals: Find and crush the threat that’s shaking up the town Long term goals: Buy a plot of land, build a house, start a family, lock down more legitimate business ventures for the club Past Hometown: Knoxville, Tennessee Type of childhood: Chaotic, highly unstable. Diana often blew whatever money they had on drugs, and so Cole often had to physically brawl for money just so he could eat. First memory: Strangers always traipsing in and out of the small home he shared with his mother in Knoxville– now that he’s older, Cole knows that they were dealers, and possible lovers as well. Most important childhood memory: Unfortunately, it isn’t a positive one. When he was fifteen years old, he found his mother dead from a drug overdose. Her death catapulted Cole’s move to Tonopah– a move that ultimately reshaped the entire trajectory of his life. Dream job: Astronaut Present Current location: An airstream in Webster Village Currently living with: No one Pets: None Religion: Atheist Occupation: Mechanic Finances: Though his salary at the shop isn’t that impressive, he’s comfortable and quite the simple man— he doesn’t require much. Most of his cut from the MC’s gun running money is donated to Bikers Against Child Abuse. Family Mother: Diana Monroe Relationship with her: Cole’s relationship with his mother was incredibly complicated. It’s no secret that Diana was a negligent mother, and yet Cole adored her completely. He never lost hope that she’d one day overcome her demons and wished more than anything that he could have helped her– he just hopes that she’s finally at peace now, and it’s a thought that eats away at him often. Father: Jeffrey Decker Relationship with him: Up until November 2022, Cole had no idea who his father was– not even the slightest clue. He found out when his aunt gave him a lockbox that Diana had prepared for him. Inside, there were very revealing, very damning letters, and a paternity test linking him to Jeffrey Decker. About a month later, he confronted Jeff and after a brief, heated exchange, Cole killed him. Siblings: Shepherd Decker ( @shepdecker ) & Sawyer Decker ( @sawyerdecker​ ) Relationship with them: Cole found out he was half-brother to the Deckers whenever he found out about Jeff, but he’s known both Shepherd and Sawyer for years. He’s never had much of a relationship with either of them– with Shep being a cop and Cole being an outlaw, there’s never been much room for personal growth…although Cole is hoping to change that line. As for Sawyer, they’d probably said only thirty words to each other in the past– another thing Cole is hoping to change. Favorites Color: Blue Music: Country and classic rock Food: Low country boil Form of entertainment: Cole loves clubhouse parties and going to boxing matches. Mode of transportation: His 2010 Harley-Davidson Fatboy Lo Most prized possession: A toss-up between the necklace described earlier and the patch on his cut that bears the road name, “Indiana,” that was given to him by one of the kids protected through BACA. Habits Hobbies: Boxing, bare-knuckle fighting, cooking, fixing things, playing pool Smokes: Like a chimney. Marlboro Reds. Drinks: Yes— prefers Tennessee whiskey, no ice. Other drugs: Marijuana on occasion, everything else is off limits. Extremely skilled at: Fighting, hustling pool, poker, marksmanship Extremely unskilled at: Waiting, public speaking Nervous tics: He’s a chainsmoker whenever he’s nervous, also tends to pace like a motherfucker. Mannerisms: Typically calm, cool, and collected in his interactions (until he’s pushed), tends to make gestures with his head more often than his hands. Cole tends to communicate best through physical touch, not spoken word. Traits Optimist or pessimist?: Neither…Cole’s typically a realist. Introvert or extrovert?: Extrovert, to a degree. Daredevil or cautious?: Daredevil Logical or emotional?: Both?? Depends on the situation. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Methodical and neat Prefers working or relaxing?: Working Confident or unsure of himself/herself?: Confident Animal lover?: Very much so Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: Cole is quite firm in his beliefs and is usually rather confident, but he can also be his own worst enemy. Sometimes, it’s very hard for him to face himself in the mirror, but he usually tries to keep that struggle to himself. One word the character would use to describe self: Resilient What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: His intuition What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: His impulsivity How does the character think others perceive him/her: He doesn’t care, to be honest. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: The way he leaps before he looks. Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Cole’s typically wary of someone until he gets to know them, but he really tries not to judge a book by its cover because he hates when people do that shit to him. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: Depends on who he’s around. He won’t ever hide his opinion, but is definitely selective with his emotions. Person character most hates: Paul Slinger (former SOS president) Best friend(s): Nate Donovan ( @nathanial-donovan ), Joel Brooks ( @joel-brooks ), Riley MacNally, Taliah Tezel, Mayra Rojas Love interest(s): Cassie Donovan ( @ccassie ) Person character goes to for advice: Joel Brooks Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Sons of Silence and friends of the club. Person character feels shy or awkward around: No one, really Person character openly admires: Taliah Tezel Person character secretly admires: Alexander Morales ( @runningincirclesx ), Gabriel Knox

[straye]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 / 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 / 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘  : NOTES ON SHINYA’S LAO HERITAGE

As stated in a previous headcanon, Shinya has Lao heritage; his family specifically originates from Savannakhet, a province closer to the southernmost part of the country just along the Lao-Thai border; they lived in the city itself.

They were trilingual before they migrated, speaking Lao (dominantly), Thai (secondary), and some degree of French (tertiary); very few of them spoke English. Migrating as war refugees to Japan had them learn Japanese to assimilate into its culture.

On the note of language, they were able to successfully preserve the Lao language and teach it to the next few generations, though Shinya is the only family member his age that can speak it well at a conversational level. When he went to college and obtained his archaic language cert, he was shocked that a language he spoke so often at home was considered archaic, along with other southeast Asian languages (Thai, Viet, Khmer, etc). It was through this, though, that he improved his skills; when he went home and spoke with a wider vocabulary, his family was impressed, to say the least.

They joined the somewhat small Lao community in Japan (small being at least 2,785 as of a 2018 count) before the country officially closed its borders and cut off outside communications, cutting off the rest of Shinya’s family in 2061.

They also survived the mass exportation / deportation efforts from 2050-2071 (this is an estimate, but it could have been sooner).

Much of their culture is preserved through the small Lao community in Japan, generally by word of mouth and personally recorded + written records since Sibyl curated education, history, and publications to teach only ‘modern’ history (in other words, history that happened within Sibyl’s integration and authority); the latter’s communal feat was particularly difficult since much of Lao history and culture was in a messy spot because of generations of colonization and war prior (specifically noting the Lao civil wars, the Secret War the Vietnam War, etc. ) but even moreso when they moved to Japan, a country that already struggled with a revisionist issue made worse and/or actualized with Sibyl’s information control. 

Three generations have passed since Shinya’s family’s immigration, with Shinya himself being the member of the fourth: it would mean his great grandparents made the journey to Japan in 2022-2023 near the start of the Neo-liberal Economic Collapse ( by ~2040 his grandparents were born, ~2065 his parents were born just before the Sibyl System’s introduction in 2061 and its official enforcement in 2071, and Shinya himself was born in 2084. ). This makes Shinya’s parents around Tomomi Masaoka’s age, as a general reference (he was born 2058).

So why do they have Japanese names? It’s not uncommon for immigrants to take on names for the land theyve taken refuge in, as evidenced by Psycho-Pass 3’s depiction of this (see: Kei, Akira, and Maiko (Russian), Theresa Shinogi (???), Kaori and Asahi Fellows (Russian). The Kogami surname is one that Shinya’s father’s side of the family adopted, though some of them retained Lao names (as was the case with Shinya’s father who kept the name Keo); the practice phased out with Shinya’s generation. It’s unknown what his mother’s maiden name was. Prior to the Kogami surname adoption, their family name was Souvannakham, pronounced Soo-vanh-ah-kahm. They still retain the custom of play names, and as also explained in the headcanon post linked in the first point, Shinya’s ຊື່ຫຼິ້ນ (play name) is ໝານ້ອຍ / Maa Noy / Little Dog.

Needless to say, xenophobia and colorism was/is a rampant part of their reality, regardless of how long their family stayed in Japan; most people can tell when you’re different in a homogenized society, and they were treated accordingly, with this being hardest in the earlier generations of their stay. It lessened to some degree with Sibyl’s efforts to harmonize the population over the years but most people, as of Shinya’s life, were still able to tell that he was different despite his insistence on being Japanese.

This also played a part in Shinya growing up in a lower-working class, since his family faced workplace discrimination. Again, this lessened somewhat over the years as people questioned Sibyl’s authority less, but… the xenophobia / colorism / racism never went away ( we see this more towards Kei in PP3, and some others. ).

This explained Shinya’s paradoxical delinquency (being an A+ student but also getting into scraps as he was; this was generally done in self defense and for the defense of his peers, and he was rarely punished since Sibyl didn’t see it clouding his hue any, evidenced by his and Ginoza’s first meeting).

Though Sibyl Society considers religion having fallen into oblivion, Shinya’s family retains the folk Theravada Buddhist-adjacent traditions of Laos, but they aren’t allowed any avenues to fully partake in their practices outside of wedding and funerary traditions. For further clarification, religion isn’t outright outlawed, but it’s neither taught nor encouraged by the Sibyl System. The segregationist Special Religion Zones that appear in response of a new wave of immigrants sans 2120 don’t count, with it being a method to separate Japanese nationals from implants, and Shinya discourages people in his community from going to them, and personally sees to their safety while they exist.

On the note of traditions, Shinya himself has partaken in traditional Lao practices, such as Songkran ( or Lao New Year ) and various manners of su kran. He preserves every string he has from the latter’s ceremonies in a box and was allowed to keep them following his demotion to Enforcer. He carried them with him overseas and has only gotten more when he ventured through Southeast Asian.

Part of his reason to migrate south to SEA after arriving in China was due to his own Lao heritage, where he naively believed that he might be able to fit in, but as is the case with people visiting their origin country when growing up somewhere else … despite being very fluent in the tongue, he stuck out for a while, and it in itself was a heartbreaking and humbling experience that made him feel small. He’s a trooper, and ended up being fine through it, finding some manner of reconnection with this part of his cultural identity through it, but he never met any of his family in Laos due to Sibyl’s exportation in the Shambala Float triggering massive scale civil unrest, and the simple fact that he never heard much of them to be able to identify them outside of vague stories (“You had a uncle who xyz”).

Yes, Shinya has his own xout lao, and his pha biang are generally blue. He has some fancy silk ones, some cloth ones. He leaves these behind with his parents when he’s locked up as an Enforcer.

He also, to some degree, knows how to perform the lam vong ( ລຳວົງ ), having grown up doing so and was taught by his parents. He’s been pulled to dance with the locals in Laos he stayed with during his exile overseas.

[khawthorneofficial]

Ethics of the Military- an essay

Final essay for Writing 122. Fair warning, this was an argumentative assignment, not informative, so it has a lot of my own beliefs in it.

"When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one." ~Tombstone of gay Vietnam veteran Leonard Matlovich (1943-1988)

You walk out of the mall with your friends on a sunny day, laughing and joking. You have drinks and snacks, and shopping bags full of your scores in your arms. As you walk down the sidewalk, you spot an elderly man sitting on the curb. He looks like he hasn't bathed in a while, and he's accompanied by a yellow lab in a service dog vest. Upon looking closer, you see he has a prosthetic leg. He holds a flimsy cardboard sign in his hands. Written on it in thick black sharpie are the words Homeless Disabled Veteran- Anything helps. As you pass, he holds out his grimy ballcap. Feeling pity for him, you fish a ten-dollar bill out of your wallet and drop it into the hat. He smiles at you with yellowing teeth and says, "God bless." As you walk away, though, you feel a guilty sensation in the pit of your stomach. You wish you could have done more.

We all know that the United States has a major homelessness problem, but did you know that out of a homeless population of over 630,000, 1 in 10 are military veterans? The institution of the military doesn't always pay people back by setting them up to thrive after their service is done. Militaries as we know them have been around for centuries, and certain forms of similar institutions date as far back as history itself goes, and many people see a military as a necessary institution. But is it? The institution of the military has many ethical problems that cause both physical and mental harm to both members, and the people caught in the crossfire of their wars. Veterans are abandoned by the system as soon as they are no longer able to serve, certain people are never given the chance, and war takes a tremendous toll on both soldiers and victims.

The first military as we know it was the Order of St. George, founded in Hungary in 1326, but armies for the sake of fighting wars can be traced as far back as ancient Mesopotamia, which is also the earliest recorded civilization, going back as far as 5,000-8,000 BCE, though the exact number varies depending on the source. For as long as humankind has had civilized society, we've been fighting wars. From the black blood-stained fields of Homer's Iliad, a fictionalized account of the probably-historical Trojan War, to the desolate trenches of World War 1, to the conflict taking place between Russia and Ukraine right now, war seems to be an inescapable human experience. As such, countries have naturally developed forces to fight them for us. But, contrary to what some people believe, it's far from a perfect system, and if you look into it enough, you begin to see that the good outweighs the bad. Most people currently and formerly enlisted in militaries are genuinely good people, but that's just what makes the institution itself so heinous and despicable.

It's no secret that our society has always been very patriarchal. Ergo, for centuries, social institutions like armies and militaries only permitted men to be members. Nowadays, most militaries allow women to join, but the standards are still different. For instance, women are not required to sign up for the draft when they turn 18 like men are. But women aren't the only group militaries have historically discriminated against. Prior to Abraham Lincoln's emancipation proclamation in 1863, African American men were not allowed to serve in the US military. However, in case anyone thinks discrimination in the military is a thing of the past, remember that only 6 years ago in 2017, then-president Donald Trump passed a law that would bar transgender individuals from serving in the military. However, fortunately, in 2021, current president Joe Biden lifted said ban, allowing trans people to serve again. There have also been multiple harsh policies about gay people's involvement in the military. The quote at the beginning of this essay is engraved on the tombstone of Leonard Matlovich, a man who fought in the Vietnam War as a member of the US Air Force. During his time in the military, he earned high honors in the form of a Bronze Star and Purple Heart, but was ultimately discharged from the Air Force after 12 years of dedicated service simply for disclosing that he was gay. He would go on to become a champion of the gay rights movement, but ultimately died in 1988 due to complications related to AIDS.

Discrimination is not the only problem with the military. Service, especially in active war zones, can take an enormous physical and mental toll on survivors. In a study conducted in 2022, a whopping 76% of surveyed US veterans stated that they suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. This is a disturbing amount compared to the just 5% of normal Americans who struggle with the disorder as of 2023. PTSD is a relatively new term. Around the time of World War I, conditions that would surely lend themselves to a PTSD diagnosis were known colloquially as "shell shock" and "war neruroses", as at the time they were solely associated with war veterans. This thinking continued to World War II, albeit with "shell shock" being replaced by the term "Combat Stress Reaction" or CSR for short. The condition was not dubbed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder until 1980 in the DSM-III, after research revealed that the psychological disorder could affect those who had suffered non-battle forms of trauma, such as sexual assault and traumatic accidents.

One place in which you can always look to for an idea of the horrors of wartime are accounts written during or about the first World War by those who fought on either side. While there are many poems, songs, and books attempting to glorify and romanticize the war, there are also many that employ the true horror. Such pieces include British poet Wilfred Owen's works, such as Anthem for Doomed Youth and Dulce et Decorum est and the book All Quiet on the Western Front, a fictionalized, semi-autobiographical account written after the end of the war by German veteran Erich Maria Remarque. The latter has been turned into several movies, with versions released in 1930, 1979, and 2022. (I watched part of the 1979 version as part of my study for this essay.) Anthem for Doomed Youth is a tragic meditation on all of the innocent young lives lost to a war they thought would bring them glory and fame, while Dulce et Decorum est is a harrowing and haunting account of what it was like to live through a gas attack, written about a real one that Owen himself was caught in, and aptly describing the brutal memories and flashbacks that followed. All Quiet on the Western Front, however, tells the story of a class of schoolboys who were convinced by their teacher to join the army and are brutally killed one by one. Depressingly enough, the plot of the book was largely inspired by Remarque's own experience in the military during the great war. In the video Modern Classics Summarized: All Quiet on the Western Front by YouTube Channel Overly Sarcastic Productions, narrator Red employs a "War is Hell" counter in one corner of the screen while she talks about the book and footage from the 1979 movie plays. Tellingly enough, by the end of the review, it has reached 54.

Another similar poem from the same era is Glory of Women by Siegfried Sassoon. While the overall concept of the poem is more than a little misogynistic, implying that women shallowly romanticize and glorify war, while men suffer the consequences, it does happen to have some excellent anti-war lines. "O German mother dreaming by the fire, While you are knitting socks to send your son, His face is trodden deeper in the mud." (Sassoon, Glory of Women. 13-15.) If you take this line at face value, there is something almost comforting about it. Sassoon was an Englishman, and thus in writing this part, he shows some sympathy for this other side- while the tone of the rest of the poem make it clear that he is mocking the oblivious mother for thinking her son would live, he is portraying the son's death as a negative.

As recent as the concept of PTSD is, trauma from war has been known for a long time, so long that what we might now diagnose as this disorder appears as far back as the plays and epics of the Trojan Cycle, some of the oldest literature in existence. Particularly in Homer's Odyssey, we see Odysseus, Menelaus, and other veterans of the Trojan War are still grappling with the reality of what happened in Troy even ten years later. At one point it is even mentioned that Helen, wife of Menelaus, has to drug her husband to prevent him from being overwhelmed by brutal flashbacks of the war. This is a testament to the adverse mental effects the decade-long Trojan War has on those who fought in it. Also in the Odyssey, we see Odysseus in disguise break down when a song about the Trojan War is played in the hall he is dining in. This incident is ultimately what causes him to reveal his true identity to his hosts, so it's safe to say that even this cunning hero has been shaken by the horrors of war. Even back then, people knew war wasn't always something to romanticize.

There is also the matter of POWs, or prisoners of war. Many military veterans who were held captive during wars such as the Vietnam war or Korean war still hold a lot of trauma from those situations. Rather recently, news channel CNN interviewed two former POWs who had been captured in Vietnam. One of the men, Staff Seargent Ken Wallingford was crammed into a 5-by-six "tiger cage". (The particular article makes it unclear whether it was a cage actually designed to house tigers or if it was just called that, but a quick Google search reveals the latter). No actual tigers were kept inside with Wallingford, although that didn't make the experience any more pleasant. Wallingford reportedly spent ten months inside the cramped cage. At 5 feet 11 inches tall, he was unable to even stand up in the tiny space. His comrade, Mark Smith, was captured at the same base and endured even worse conditions. Smith was forced to stay inside a hole in the ground, with any protection from the elements he was allowed rotting around him. He ended up contracting two different types of malaria from the mosquitoes he was left at the mercy of, and was lucky to make it back to the US alive.

Most people who enlist in the military or go off to war have genuinely good intentions. They're brave, selfless people who want to give their life to protecting their country and people. They aren't the problem. The institution of the military, however, is. It's perfectly fine to have National Guard officers out in the community, giving people their Covid shots, but when it comes to wartime, the military as an institution has no problem throwing these young people's lives away, and coming back to the statistics of homeless veterans in the US, leaving them by the wayside when they can no longer serve the cause. We are taught that it's a form of glory, the ultimate perhaps, to sacrifice ourselves for our countries and the nebulous concept of patriotism. "My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori." (Owen, Dulce et Decorum est. 25-28). The Latin phrase at the end of this particular Wilfred Owen poem, from which the title is taken, translates to "it is sweet and fitting to die for one's country." This very ideology is part of why the military as an institution is highly unethical in its expectations of members.

One counterargument that might be brought up in response to these statements is the fact that if military institutions were done away with, we would have no one to fight for us when wars break out. However, perhaps without militaries, there wouldn't be as many wars to fight. There are 15 total countries without official militaries, including Lichtenstein and the Marshall Islands, and several more with unofficial institutions but no proper armed forces, including Mauritius. Many of these countries still do have treaties with others in the case that they do require assistance in a wartime situation, but the system seems to have worked, with these countries staying out of those kinds of conflicts.

Ultimately, while having a military can be useful in some cases, the system is very flawed, and in a better world we wouldn't have to put up with those problems- and maybe we don't in this one either. Militaries pretend to care about their members, but throw their lives away nonchalantly and cast them by the wayside when they decide that they've served their purpose. Is it really worth it?

Works Cited:

Leonardmatlovich.Com, www.leonardmatlovich.com/. Accessed 30 May 2023.

Elflein, John. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder during Service after 9/11 among Veterans U.S. 2022." Statista, 19 Apr. 2023, www.statista.com/statistics/1202701/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-during-service-after-911-by-problem-veterans/.

"How Common Is PTSD in Adults?" Va.Gov: Veterans Affairs, 13 Sept. 2018, www.ptsd.va.gov/understand/common/common_adults.asp#:~:text=About%205%20out%20of%20every,some%20point%20in%20their%20life.

Starger, Martin, et al. All Quiet on the Western Front. CBS, 1979.

Overly Sarcastic Productions, Modern Classics Summarized, all quiet on the Western Front

"History of PTSD in Veterans: Civil War to DSM-5." Va.Gov: Veterans Affairs, 17 Aug. 2018, www.ptsd.va.gov/understand/what/history_ptsd.asp#:~:text=In%20World%20War%20II%2C%20the,became%20battle%20weary%20and%20exhausted.

Homer, The Odyssey

Homer, The Iliad

Owen, Wilfred. Anthem for Doomed Youth

Owen, Wilfred. Dulce et Decorum Est

Sassoon, Siegfried. Glory of Women

Lendon, Brad. "One of These Vietnam War Pows Spent 10 Months in a 'tiger Cage.' What Happened to the Other Was Even Worse." CNN, 29 May 2023, www.cnn.com/2023/05/29/asia/vietnam-cambodia-pow-50-years-reunion-intl-hnk-ml/index.html.

"List of Countries without Armed Forces." Wikipedia, 7 May 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_without_armed_forces.

[dankusner]

Historian helped with JFK assassination probe

OBITUARY

ALFRED GOLDBERG

Alfred Goldberg, a prominent historian of U.S. military affairs who also shared moments as part of history, advising the Warren Commission that probed the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and compiling insider accounts from the Pentagon after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, died Sept. 3 at his home in Falls Church, Va. He was 105.

His granddaughter Rachel Goldberg confirmed the death but did not cite a cause.

A chance meeting launched his career.

While serving in the military in England during World War II, he bumped into a well-placed college classmate, who helped arrange a transfer from the mess hall to an assignment as a historian attached to Army Air Forces command within Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower’s war room.

Soon after the 1944 D-Day landings in Normandy, he entered France to begin a comprehensive history of U.S. air operations in the closing months of the war.

A lifelong historian

Over the next seven decades, Goldberg’s journals, interviews and books formed an indispensable archive tracking the dilemmas and decisions inside the Defense Department — often with privileged access as the chief historian for the defense secretary’s office from 1973 to 2007, spanning seven presidents and more than 10 defense chiefs. Goldberg stayed on in a part-time role until 2013.

From his office in the Pentagon, he could roam the halls and listen in on meetings and study body language as major events unfolded: the end of the Vietnam War, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the 9/11 attacks, and the U.S.-led wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

His papers, like those of historians in other U.S. agencies, became part of government records.

Goldberg also wrote published works widely regarded as authoritative sweeps of military history, including A History of the United States Air Force, 1907-1957 and The Pentagon: The First Fifty Years .

He described his mission as similar to a journalist or fact finder. His duty, he said, was to fend off attempts by officials to whitewash or embellish events.

There were the related risks of self-censorship, he added.

“It derives from the unconscious absorption through the pores, so to speak, of the ideas, attitudes, predilections, biases, loyalties of the institutional environment,” he told The New York Times for a 1982 story about the challenges of government historians.

“The closer to the throne, the greater the danger.”

Kennedy conspiracies

Goldberg also spent decades as one of the leading voices rejecting the numerous conspiracy theories surrounding the November 1963 Kennedy assassination.

He stood firmly behind the 1964 conclusions of the Warren Commission — which he helped edit and write — that Lee Harvey Oswald was the lone shooter in a self-hatched plot.

How “such a pathetic little man” changed the course of history was just too implausible for many to believe and encouraged the conspiracy mongers, he said.

“How could this pipsqueak do all this?” Goldberg was quoted as saying in a 2013 book, A Cruel and Shocking Act: The Secret History of the Kennedy Assassination , by investigative journalist Philip Shenon.

Goldberg — then an Air Force historian — was picked for an adviser spot on the Warren Commission by the panel’s namesake, Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren.

“I don’t trust all these lawyers I have,” Warren reportedly told Goldberg.

Goldberg was part of many of the more than 550 interviews, taking detailed notes and occasionally asking questions to clarify a time or specific place.

Crowds along Houston Street waited to see Lee Harvey Oswald transferred from city jail to county jail. Goldberg joined a team that followed Oswald’s presumed route to verify the timeline of his movements. (Sixth Floor Museum)

Dallas connection

In Dallas, he joined a team that followed Oswald’s presumed route after the Kennedy shooting.

Goldberg noted the travel times down to the second to help verify the timeline of Oswald’s movements.

Oswald was killed by gunman Jack Ruby two days after the assassination while in police custody.

“The [Warren] Commission believed that it proved Oswald’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt, which is the basic requirement in law,” Goldberg wrote in his 1968 book Conspiracy Interpretations of the Assassination of President Kennedy ,

“but in the absence of a court trial this has not been enough for many people. There are some loose ends, inconsistencies, and contradictions in the Report that trouble people and provide some basis for conspiracy hypotheses.”

9/11 efforts

Decades later, when terrorists crashed an American Airlines jetliner into the Pentagon — after planes hit the World Trade Center in Manhattan — Goldberg said he knew instantly that he needed to mobilize a team even though he was then in his early 80s.

He led an effort that included interviews of more than 1,300 military and civilian personnel for recollections and insights of 9/11 in Washington.

“We want to get to people while their memories are still fresh,” said Goldberg, who became the lead author in the Defense Department history “ Pentagon 9/11,” which included previously unpublished photographs of the wreckage and rescue efforts.

“I worked about as hard as I’ve ever worked in my life,” he recounted. Alfred Goldberg was born in Baltimore on Dec. 23, 1918. His parents, who were immigrants from Bessarabia in what is now Moldova, worked in the garment industry. His father was a tailor, and his mother was a seamstress.

He received a bachelor’s degree in history from Western Maryland College, now McDaniel College, in 1938 and began postgraduate studies at Johns Hopkins University. He left in 1942 for Army service, stationed as a mess supervisor in England.

He left active duty in 1946 at the rank of captain and, after the Air Force became a separate military branch in 1947, served as senior historian for the Air Force Historical Division until 1965.

He received a doctoral degree in history from Johns Hopkins in 1950. He retired from the Air Force Reserve in 1978 as a colonel.

From 1965 to 1973, Goldberg was a senior staff member at the Rand research group.

Goldberg’s wife of 61 years, the former Gertrud “Gerta” Kannova, died in 2010. Born in Vienna, she was a courier with underground Jewish groups in Paris during World War II and later served as reviewer of translations at the Nuremberg war crimes trials.

Survivors include three children, Paul Goldberg, Alan Goldberg and Marian Goldberg; two granddaughters; and two great-granddaughters.

[saolatoursvietnam]

Discover Vietnam's Untamed Wilderness: An Adventure into the Heart of Nature

Vietnam, a country known for its stunning landscapes, rich history, and vibrant culture, also harbors a lesser-known secret: a wild side brimming with extraordinary wildlife. Beyond the bustling cities and iconic landmarks, Vietnam's natural world offers a sanctuary for those eager to explore its diverse ecosystems. With Vietnam Wildlife Tours by Sao La Vietnam Tours, you can journey deep into this untamed paradise and uncover the hidden gems of Vietnam's wilderness.

Exploring Vietnam’s Biodiversity Vietnam boasts an incredible array of wildlife, thanks to its varied environments that range from lush rainforests to sprawling wetlands. The country is home to over 100 mammal species, more than 800 bird species, and numerous reptiles and amphibians, many of which are rare and endangered. Vietnam Wildlife Tours immerses you in these pristine environments, offering encounters with some of the most fascinating and elusive creatures on earth.

One of the highlights of these tours is a visit to Cat Tien National Park, a key conservation area in southern Vietnam. As a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, Cat Tien is a haven for wildlife enthusiasts. Here, you’ll have the rare opportunity to see the magnificent Asian elephant and the critically endangered Javan rhinoceros in their natural habitats. Bird watchers will be especially captivated by the chance to spot the elusive Edwards’s pheasant, a species highly prized by ornithologists. Guided by experts, your time in Cat Tien will be both educational and awe-inspiring.

Journey into Vietnam's Enigmatic Wilds Further north, Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng National Park offers another exceptional wildlife experience. While this UNESCO World Heritage Site is renowned for its extensive cave systems, its dense rainforests are home to some of Vietnam's most secretive wildlife. This park is one of the few places where you might glimpse the rare saola, often referred to as the "Asian unicorn" for its rarity and almost mythical presence. For those seeking the thrill of discovering one of the world’s most mysterious creatures, Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng is a must-visit destination.

In central Vietnam, Bach Ma National Park stands out with its breathtaking mountainous landscapes and rich biodiversity. The park’s unique microclimate supports a wide range of plant and animal life, making it a prime location for wildlife enthusiasts. Bird watchers will be particularly enchanted by the vibrant crimson-crowned babblers and other avian species that call Bach Ma home. Whether trekking through its dense forests or simply soaking in the panoramic views, a visit to Bach Ma is an experience of serenity and exhilaration.

Design Your Ideal Wildlife Adventure At Sao La Vietnam Tours, crafting personalized Vietnam Wildlife Tours is their specialty. Whether you're an experienced wildlife enthusiast or a curious traveler, these tours are designed to perfectly balance adventure with comfort. Led by passionate guides who are deeply knowledgeable about Vietnam’s natural world, each tour offers a unique opportunity to connect with nature and appreciate the country’s remarkable biodiversity.

For more information on planning your wildlife adventure in Vietnam, visit Sao La Vietnam Tours. Their website provides detailed itineraries, travel tips, and booking options to help make your journey seamless and unforgettable.

Contact Sao La Vietnam Tours Ready to embark on a wildlife adventure like no other? Contact Sao La Vietnam Tours today to begin planning your journey. Reach out via email at sales@saolatours.com or call 84 02466899911 for personalized assistance. With Sao La Vietnam Tours, you’re not just booking a tour—you’re setting out on an adventure that will bring you closer to nature and leave you with lifelong memories.

Experience the wild side of Vietnam with a Wildlife Tour that promises excitement, discovery, and a profound connection with the country’s natural wonders. Your adventure awaits!

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Discover the Enchanting Caves of Vietnam

Explore the breathtaking adventure with our in-depth guide caves in Vietnam. From majestic underground rivers to awe-inspiring rock formations, these caves offer a unique adventure. Our guide highlights the must-visit caves for an unforgettable experience. Vietnam’s caves are truly a hidden gem, offering a unique blend of natural beauty and adventure. One of the most remarkable spots is the Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng National Park, renowned for its spectacular limestone formations and expansive underground rivers. The park is home to some of the world's largest and most impressive caves, including the famous Son Doong Cave, which holds the title of the largest cave in the world by volume. Exploring these caves is like stepping into another world. The immense caverns, intricate stalactites, and stalagmites create a mesmerizing underground landscape. In addition to Son Doong, visitors can explore the stunning Paradise Cave and the impressive Hang En Cave, each offering its own unique features and breathtaking views. The experience of navigating through these natural wonders is both thrilling and serene, as you witness nature’s artistry up close. So, pack your gear and get ready to uncover the secrets hidden within Vietnam’s majestic caves!