underwear bomb

  • Leo: I cant make it to Camp Jupiter.
  • Jason: Why not?
  • Leo: I accidentally told a TSA agent my underwear was tha bomb.
  • Jason: Why would you tell them your underwear was a bomb?
  • Leo: I didnt say it was A bomb I said it was THE bomb! Now I cant go.
In The Shadows

I know that my NCIS writings never took off, but I have had a request for a second part to this story, so I am editing the first one a bit.

(Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Epilogue)


“Get in here,” Vance tells Gibbs over the phone as he grunts, getting out of bed.

As Gibbs strolls into the office at 5 am, Vance meets him in MTAC.  On the screen, as Gibbs shoots Vance a look, a picture of a woman…clad only in her underwear…with bombs strapped to her appendages.

“Who the hell is this?” Gibbs retorts, turning his head towards Vance and widening his eyes.

“Her name is Y/N,” he states plainly.

“Okay?” Gibbs responds sarcastically, “Why the hell is she dancing on our screen?”

Sighing, Vance turns his gaze back to the screen.

“For the past 6 months, I have tasked her with the objective to work in the shadows.  To follow and watch over you and your the team and make sure you guys are safe.”

As Gibbs gaze hardens on Vance, he quickly turns back to the screen as his eyes dance around the video stream.

“Are those bombs?” Gibbs asks.

“Yep,” Vance retorts.

“Why in the world didn’t you tell my about her?  And why the hell is she following my team!?” Gibbs raises his voices.

“Because your team’s been out of control,” Vance starts, “throwing protocol out the window and putting yourselves in unnecessary danger.  I was saving you from yourselves.”

The look on Gibbs’ face stated that that wasn’t enough.

“Kate’s death was hard on everyone,” Vance states, the edge in his voice disappearing.

Gibbs felt himself hold his breath at the mention of her name.

“Who is she?” Gibbs asks.

“Y/N,” Vance sighs.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Gibbs bites.

But he was met with only silence.

“Where is she!?” Gibbs roars, irritation growing on his face.

“I don’t know, but from the note that was left on my desk, this feed has been live since 0300.”

“She’s been dancing for 2 hours and we have no idea where she is?”

“None at all,” Vance bites.

And as the team rushes in, Tim running to the computer to help start a trace on the video feed, DiNozzo stares blankly at the screen as he furrows his brow.

“Who’s this boss?” he asks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here you are, dancing…with bombs strapped to your body…hoping your heart-rate doesn’t fall below 140, waiting for the questions.  You hear the screeching of tires, followed by the sound of sirens and people yelling at each other outside.

Wonderful.  Now we can die one big, happy family.

As the team enters the room, their eyes raking over your body as the sweat pours down your legs, a voice comes over the intercom system.

“Let’s play a game of ‘Get To Know Our Secrets’,” the man chimes.

“Who’s that?” Gibbs asks, turning towards DiNozzo, and before anyone can muster a response, you clear your throat.

“My brother,” you breathe.

“Your who?” Gibbs asks, his body stepping forward.

“My…brother…” you choke out in between heaves of breaths.

“Why does your brother have you strapped to bombs?” Gibbs questions.

“Because he wants me dead, I guess,” you reply sarcastically, a light chuckle emanating from McGee before Dr. Mallard shoots him a look, shaking his head lightly.

As the team stands there dumbfounded, Palmer slowly walks up to you on the stage and takes your hand within his.

“You’re going to need fluids if you want to keep moving.”

Searching his face as your ankle rolls, he catches you as you scramble up to keep moving, hesitantly giving him your hand as he struggles to set your IV.

His touch is very kind.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” the young man says.

Startled by his apology, you almost forget where you are until your brother rages over the speaker system.

“Are we finished yet?”

“Yep,” you reply as Palmer sits down on the edge of the stage.

You wondered why he wasn’t running back to his team.

“Wonderful.  Then let me explain the rules.  Strapped to the bomb on your stomach is a heart monitor.  If your heart-rate falls below 140, you explode.  If one of your limbs stops moving for more than 10 seconds, you explode.  If you answer my questions wrong, or don’t answer them to the fullest extent, you will explode.  Think of it as a ‘get-to-know-you’ session.  After all, you have been watching these people for the past 6 months.”

Watching as everyone slowly turns their gaze to you, you take a deep breath before explaining yourself.

“I was tasked to watch you so you didn’t do anything stupid out of grief.”

Gasping as your body becomes taut for a split second, you feel yourself plummeting to the floor until a pair of arms catches you on the way down, your eyes wide and unblinking as you see James come into view.

“Y/N.  Miss Y/N…can you hear me?” he asks as you feel him tap your face.

Wincing as another jolt of shock ricochets through your leg, you hear your brother chuckle over the sound system.

“Oh! Did I mention the electrical shocks?  Yeah, those are just for fun.  I like keeping my sister on her toes.”

“McGee, call Abby,” Gibbs says as he turns his gaze to Tim, “see if she can locate and trace his private video feed, wherever it’s coming from.  He’s watching from somewhere.”

“On it,” he responds as he pulls out his phone and speed dials Abby back at the lab.

“Now that all the dirty stuff is out of the way, lets start with an easy question, Y/N,” your brother lulls.

“Who am I?”

Personal Statement Example: “Punk Rock Philosopher”

This was written for the Common App, and works for multiple prompts (or none of them, because the author is that cool).


I am on Oxford Academy’s Speech and Debate Team, in both the Parliamentary Debate division and the Lincoln-Douglass debate division. I write screenplays, short stories, and opinionated blogs and am a regular contributor to my school literary magazine, The Gluestick. I have accumulated over 300 community service hours that includes work at homeless shelters, libraries, and special education youth camps. I have been evaluated by the College Board and have placed within the top percentile.

But I am not any of these things. I am not a test score, nor a debater, nor a writer. I am an anti-nihilist punk rockphilosopher. And I became so when I realized three things:

1) That the world is ruled by underwear. There is a variety of underwear for a variety of people. You have your ironed briefs for your businessmen, your soft cottons for the average, and hemp-based underwear for your environmental romantics. But underwear do not only tell us about who we are, they also influence our daily interactions in ways most of us don’t even understand. For example, I have a specific pair of underwear that is holey, worn out but surprisingly comfortable. And despite how trivial underwear might be, when I am wearing my favorite pair, I feel as if I am on top of the world. In any case, these articles of clothing affect our being and are the unsung heroes of comfort.

2) When I realized I cannot understand the world. I recently debated at the Orange County Speech League Tournament, within the Parliamentary Division. This specific branch of debate is an hour long, and consists of two parties debating either side of a current political issue. In one particular debate, I was assigned the topic: “Should Nation States eliminate nuclear arms?” It so happened that I was on the negative side and it was my job to convince the judges that countries should continue manufacturing nuclear weapons. During the debate, something strange happened: I realized that we are a special breed of species, that so much effort and resources are invested to ensure mutual destruction. And I felt that this debate in a small college classroom had elucidated something much more profound about the scale of human existence. In any case, I won 1st place at the tournament, but as the crowd cheered when my name was called to stand before an audience of hundreds of other debaters, and I flashed a victorious smile at the cameras, I couldn’t help but imagine that somewhere at that moment a nuclear bomb was being manufactured, adding to an ever-growing stockpile of doom. And that’s when I realized that the world was something I will never understand.

3) When I realized I was a punk rocker philosopher. One summer night, my friend took me to an underground hardcore punk rock show. It was inside a small abandoned church. After the show, I met and became a part of this small community. Many were lost and on a constant soul-search, and to my surprise, many, like myself, did not have a blue Mohawk or a nose piercing. Many were just ordinary people discussing Nietzsche, string theory, and governmental ideologies. Many were also artists creating promotional posters and inventive slogans for stickers. They were all people my age who could not afford to be part of a record label and did something extraordinary by playing in these abandoned churches, making their own CDs and making thousands of promotional buttons by hand. I realized then that punk rock is not about music nor is it a guy with a blue Mohawk screaming protests. Punk rock is an attitude, a mindset, and very much a culture. It is an antagonist to the conventional. It means making the best with what you have to contribute to a community. This was when I realized that I was a punk rock philosopher.

The world I come from consists of underwear, nuclear bombs, and punk rockers. And I love this world. My world is inherently complex, mysterious, and anti-nihilist. I am David Phan, somebody who spends his weekends debating in a three piece suit, other days immersed within the punk rock culture, and some days writing opinionated blogs about underwear.

But why college? I want a higher education. I want more than just the textbook fed classrooms in high school. A community which prizes revolutionary ideals, a sharing of multi-dynamical perspectives, an environment that ultimately acts as a medium for movement, similar to the punk rock community. I do not see college as a mere stepping stone for a stable career or a prosperous life, but as a supplement for knowledge and self-empowerment; it is a social engine that will jettison us to our next paradigm shift.

Bath Bombs

Originally posted by 8991hnd

‘I just feel horrible.’ You answered him as you leaned your head against the sofa letting out a huge sigh. It had been a tiring day at work and all you wanted to do was stay in and make yourself comfortable. You swore you could hear the guilt bubbling inside your boyfriend over the phone as he let out a small ‘Uhh’.

‘It’s fine. I’m fine.’ You chuckled at him.

'I’m sorry. I promise I’ll go to your house after I’m done.’

'It’s fine. I don’t think it could get any-’

Hyuk Woo quickly shushed you as you laughed at his paranoid self. 'Don’t jinx yourself baby.’ He scolded as you just nodded your head even if you knew he couldn’t see you. You smiled at how adorable your boyfriend was, slowly massaging your sore feet from all the hours in heels. 'I’ll buy ice cream when I come back home and you can tell me all about your day okay?’ He cooed promising you of a better end to your day than what you’ve been through.

'I’m going to need lots of comfort food.’ You told him as he just laughed.

Keep reading

Looking to follow more people!

Like and reblog if you post,

  1. Feminism,
  2. Social Justice
  3. LUSH/Bath Bombs
  4. Fancy Underwear
  5. dd/lg life style/relationship
  6. Red Panda’s
  7. Cute art
  8. Pink flouncy things
  9. Cute dresses
  10. Teapots/Beds/Outside/Home Decor

And I will come check you out!!

PERSONAL STATEMENT EXAMPLE: “PUNK ROCK PHILOSOPHER”

This was written for the Common App, and works for multiple prompts (or none of them, because the author is that cool).


I am on Oxford Academy’s Speech and Debate Team, in both the Parliamentary Debate division and the Lincoln-Douglass debate division. I write screenplays, short stories, and opinionated blogs and am a regular contributor to my school literary magazine, The Gluestick. I have accumulated over 300 community service hours that includes work at homeless shelters, libraries, and special education youth camps. I have been evaluated by the College Board and have placed within the top percentile.

But I am not any of these things. I am not a test score, nor a debater, nor a writer. I am an anti-nihilist punk rock philosopher. And I became so when I realized three things:

1) That the world is ruled by underwear. There is a variety of underwear for a variety of people. You have your ironed briefs for your businessmen, your soft cottons for the average, and hemp-based underwear for your environmental romantics. But underwear do not only tell us about who we are, they also influence our daily interactions in ways most of us don’t even understand. For example, I have a specific pair of underwear that is holey, worn out but surprisingly comfortable. And despite how trivialunderwear might be, when I am wearing my favorite pair, I feel as if I am on top of the world. In any case, these articles of clothing affect our being and are the unsung heroes of comfort.

2) When I realized I cannot understand the world. I recently debated at the Orange County Speech League Tournament, within the Parliamentary Division. This specific branch of debate is an hour long, and consists of two parties debating either side of a current political issue. In one particular debate, I was assigned the topic: “Should Nation States eliminate nuclear arms?” It so happened that I was on the negative side and it was my job to convince the judges that countries should continue manufacturing nuclear weapons. During the debate, something strange happened: I realized that we are a special breed of species, that so much effort and resources are invested to ensure mutual destruction. And I felt that this debate in a small college classroom had elucidated something much more profound about the scale of human existence. In any case, I won 1st place at the tournament, but as the crowd cheered when my name was called to stand before an audience of hundreds of other debaters, and I flashed a victorious smile at the cameras, I couldn’t help but imagine that somewhere at that moment a nuclear bomb was being manufactured, adding to an ever-growing stockpile of doom. And that’s when I realized that the world was something I will never understand.

3) When I realized I was a punk rocker philosopher. One summer night, my friend took me to an underground hardcore punk rock show. It was inside a small abandoned church. After the show, I met and became a part of this small community. Many were lost and on a constant soul-search, and to my surprise, many, like myself, did not have a blue Mohawk or a nose piercing. Many were just ordinary people discussing Nietzsche, string theory, and governmental ideologies. Many were also artists creating promotional posters and inventive slogans for stickers. They were all people my age who could not afford to be part of a record label and did something extraordinary by playing in these abandoned churches, making their own CDs and making thousands of promotional buttons by hand. I realized then that punk rock is not about music nor is it a guy with a blue Mohawk screaming protests. Punk rock is an attitude, a mindset, and very much a culture. It is an antagonist to the conventional. It means making the best with what you have to contribute to a community. This was when I realized that I was a punk rock philosopher.

The world I come from consists of underwear, nuclear bombs, and punk rockers. And I love this world. My world is inherently complex, mysterious, and anti-nihilist. I am David Phan, somebody who spends his weekends debating in a three piece suit, other days immersed within the punk rock culture, and some days writing opinionated blogs about underwear.

But why college? I want a higher education. I want more than just the textbook fed classrooms in high school. A community which prizes revolutionary ideals, a sharing of multi-dynamical perspectives, an environment that ultimately acts as a medium for movement, similar to the punk rock community. I do not see college as a mere stepping stone for a stable career or a prosperous life, but as a supplement for knowledge and self-empowerment; it is a social engine that will jettison us to our next paradigm shift.

reuters.com
Plot using redesigned underwear bomb thwarted: U.S. officials

A plot similar to previous Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula bombing attempted attacks using a redesigned underwear bomb for use on aircraft was thwarted and no airline was ever at risk, two U.S. counter-terrorism officials said on Monday.

“This device has the hallmarks of previous AQAP bombing attempts,” one official said on condition of anonymity. “The plot was disrupted well before it threatened American or U.S. allies and no airlines were ever at risk from this device.”

READ MORE: Plot using redesigned underwear bomb thwarted