#interaction1

[cudfamlist]

#INTERACTION1 DROPS TODAY https://www.instagram.com/p/BuIxIrCg4Qo/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=4p6vmdjbyj1o

[cudfamlist]

#INTERACTION1 https://www.instagram.com/p/BuCC-ahAy6E/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=szup9l9urz8h

[txboolcve-blog]

Paisley had been stressed to say the least as new found information about her kingdom and princess status were brought to her attention by Jasper. “Are you sure I’m the princess?” she asked as she chewed onto her lower lip before glancing back over at the male. “Do you have the right person?” Paisley questioned. 

[txboolcve-blog]

Natalie had placed headphones in as music blared in her ears while she danced, mostly grinding to the beat, around her room. She thought she was home alone as she placed her phone up to her lips and began to lip sync the lyrics as if it was her microphone. Natalie spun around as her blonde locks swayed behind her before her eyes widened at the presence of Jordan. “Oh, hi,” she stated with a breathless giggle. 

[txboolcve-blog]

Rylen gripped her phone as trembling fingers tried hard to not drop it on the floor at the text message she received. Flashes of the memories came up in her mind as she took a deep breath before licking her lips. “Hey, babe. Is my stalker, Travis, still in jail?” she asked Ryden as she swallowed hard. 

[elise-whitney-blog]

Just Another Tequila Sunrise

"ELI!" 

Her name was hollered over some sort of bustling noise, everything was loud and it made her groan as she rolled over in her bed. Sweet slumber, how she adored it, yet she seemed to fight it every night. Such a shame really. Rubbing her eyes, Elise Whitney found herself drifting back into it's beautiful arms ....

"ELI YOU SOW - GET YER BEAUTIFUL ARSE UP!"

Eli roared angrily, flinging her arms up and eventually using them to lift her up into a partially leaned position. "What in the hell do you want!?" She called to the random voice yelling at her, one that she assumed belonged to Marco.

"It's after ten you lazy ass! Don says you've got work to do!"

Groaning again, Elise sat up and grumbled profanities under her breath as she slipped out of bed and walked over to her dresser. Making quick work of an outfit, she hoisted the handful of clothes over her shoulder and headed for the showers; not even caring that she was in a tank top and panties, she walked out of her bedroom and down the hall. "I'm gonna take a fucking shower then I'll get on whatever the hell I gotta do. Tell Don to keep his fucking pants on." 

There was a squeak as Marco leaned back in his chair, then another as he damn near fell out of it. "You should work on keeping yours on woman!" Elise laughed and waved her hand as she turned around and headed back into her room to take a shower. She really enjoyed the shock and awe on the boys, it made her morning.

After her shower, Elise got herself dressed into a pair of cut off shorts and a black tank top with the club's logo on the back of it. Slipping on her socks and boots, Eli walked out to the bar and leaned against it. "So what in the hell was so important that you needed me to get out of bed for Don?" She asked to the brutish looking man with his back to her.

"There's a kid comin' today," he said, turning to face her now, "he's the youngin from another branch... he's here to check out our runnin' work and you're the lead runner so I need you on'im." Elise snorted, walking around the bar to grab a cup of coffee. "I'm sure 'on'im' is not what he will be expecting." Elisa laughed as she swirled a bit of cream and sugar into her piping hot coffee as Don shot her one of his trademark looks. "I didn't mean it like that ya pervert. Damn, you're worse than a man."

Elise walked around the bar once again and leaned against it, blowing off her coffee for a moment and taking a small sip. "Yeah, yeah, that's why you keep me around. I'm hot and I do the work of a man, you'd rather see my ass crack then Marco's... I know." Don let out a loud laugh and shook his head, walking off to go about his day and leave Eli to her coffee and to wait for the biker she was supposed to meet.

[roseevanswwii-blog]

counting scars -- their first meeting

My Dearest Rosette,

The moments we have been apart seem endless. The pain of our distance is only beaten by the realization that I have left you all alone to a world that you do not know. My dearest sister, I beg your forgiveness for this decision and I know - somehow - you will find it in your heart to love me still... as you always have. I merely hope that I come home to you again, to our life and to find you someplace better, better than the place that you were left and the situations we were forced to be raised in. I miss you, with all the pieces of my heart and I hope to see you again. I know you will likely not be able to write back to me as I do not know where I am supposed to be going but, know that I will write to you again as soon as I am able. I love you little one, forever.

Russell.

Rose clutched the worn letter to her heart once again, eyes closed and breathing slow and steady. She had missed her brother the instant he had left and found no solace in his departure. Now, she was here, battling the very dangers that he had -- for answers. Where was he? Why had no one attempted to look for him? Why was there no information on his whereabouts? Was he even alive? The very prospect of his death did nothing but make Rose feel like she was about to crack, body aching with a mixture of fatigue and sorrow. No. She would not let him down, she would not lose herself and she would not lose him. He was all she had.

The sound of radio static caught her attention as she lay on the cool ground; eyes jolting open and body sitting upright, Rose turned around and looked for the radio. It was in the distance, a few 'palettes' over. Someone was listening in to anything and everything, even the static was better than the sounds of war. Even dead air was better than the sounds of bombs and air raids. Anything warded off the winter chill, anything made you feel like you weren't on frozen ground in God knows where Europe. Anything.

"Oi! JACOBS! Wake yer sorry arse up and get ova'ere!" The sound of her platoon leader jolted her attention, Rose, or well... Ross Jacobs, was being hailed. Quickly, she stood to attention, grabbing the letter and shoving it in her pocket. "Quit readin' the smut from ya girl and come with me. Yer bein' transferred." Rose raised her brow, clearing her throat slightly to lower the octave of her voice; she was a man after all. "Where'm I headed?" She asked, turning around to grab her blankets and pack, since she figured she wasn't gonna get much time to do so within the next couple of minutes. "We're headed over to Corporal Kiser's platoon. He lost some men and we've got enough to give him some spares. You're one of'em." 

Following after her leader, or soon to be former - she supposed, Rose looked around at the other people, the men she had worked with for the past couple of months; all good men that she would undoubtedly risk her life for. Would it be the same with this new man? This new group? Was there any hope that the men she was about to be stationed with knew anything at all about her brother? It was unlikely but, perhaps... they may know something. One could only hope,

Together, they trudged through the frozen marsh land and across a random field to the area where Rose apparently would be occupying from now on. Her leader turned to her and motioned her attention forward, instead of around as it had been. "This ere's your new Platoon Leader. You listen to him like ya listened to me and you'll do fine Jacobs." To this comment, she saluted him and he nodded her on, ushering her toward the stranger before speaking to him briefly and heading off back where he came from. 

Now, it was only her, her and this man whom she had never met. He would lead her and she would obey, as she had be trained (though most of the training came from home and not the military. After all, WWII didn't offer much time for training.) Saluting to him now, she cleared her throat once more and lowered her voice a bit. "Private First Class Ross Jacobs, reporting for duty, SIR." She kept her hand up and awaited permission to remove it and any following orders that her Corporal asked of her."

[rhonaallen-blog]

A Stolen Begining

Shackles, clanking shackles. Even in the silence, she felt as though they were there; wrapped around her wrists and ankles, binding her to a task she had no will to complete. Her instructions had been clear, her pleas for help and mercy had gone unheard and now she sat in a room as unfamiliar as it was discomforting. So, with her head in her hands, she sat on a small hospital style bed and thought of the shackles, their steely sound ringing in her ears and disrupting the silence of the room. Her wrists felt tight, her ankles felt bogged down with weight and she didn't want to move, she didn't want to do anything.

Sitting back slightly, Rhona peered down at her hands as she pulled them from her face; there was nothing there. She had no shackles, no chains, it was all in her mind. Still, she felt heavy, she felt weighed down and she felt as though her life had come to an end. Standing and walking to the window, she could feel the responsibility of her new task dragging behind her – a constant reminder that her that she was no longer free. Before, she was an outcast and now... now she was too deep to see the light anymore. Rhona had been plunged into the darkness of a world she did not understand, a world that she was frightened of and one that she knew had not escape.

She was caged. Like an animal, like a wild tiger; she had the love of the wild in her still, the desire of it and the need to be out and roaming free. Rhona was filled with rage, defeat, and disgust; she didn't even know what was happening anymore. All she wanted to do was scream, cry, throw herself against something or anything and try to break free. All she wanted was to go back to her live of obscurity; truthfully, Rhona would rather be hated and dismissed at her home than bound and gagged, lead away into the unknown with only the knowledge that she either comply... or die.

There was a knock on the door, almost as if it was merely a warning and not an askance, a figure walked through the entrance and stood before Rhona; his demeanor stoic, his body taught and straight. Turning her attention to him, Rhona remained silent, for a moment she mused on him, thinking him a tin soldier – this emotionless man of solidarity. He was here to demand of her, that was all, he was here to convey the decisions of his master (a man she refused to accept as her own). “Your... partner... will be arriving shortly. I was instructed to bring you to the entrance hall in order to meet him. Come with me, Miss Allen.” Rhona swallowed her retort and complied; walking down the long hallway to the large opening of what had to be the entrance hall mentioned earlier. She hated this, it was a world she did not know, an experience she didn't want to have as a part of her life and now she was neck deep in threats and demands; Rhona was not one to be easily swayed, she was not one to bend until broken but, right now at least, she didn't have a choice.

“Remain here, they will be watching. Noah will arrive any moment.” With that, the little tin soldier marched his way back into the shadows and Rhona turned her attention toward the light once more. It was difficult to embrace the warmth of the sun when she knew it was something of a facade, a fake brilliance in the sky. She wasn't being let go, she was being released on a leash. Rhona had a job to do and she suspected this mysterious Noah wouldn't let her forget it.