#IT Training services in San Diego

[deadlyfitbodies]

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part I

(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.

While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.

When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.

As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.

Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.

He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”

He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.

“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.

Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.

You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.

Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.

“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.

But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.

“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”

Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”

You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”

Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.

You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.

Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.

This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.

Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.

“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.

He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.

You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.

Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.

You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”

Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”

You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”

Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”

Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”

Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.

…

About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.

“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”

You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“With a pinch of salt.”

Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”

Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”

You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”

“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.

Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.

Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.

Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.

He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.

You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.

Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”

Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.

But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”

Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.

Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.

Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.

Read Part 2

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@coffeeaddictedmay

@boringusername3

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@annedub

@jules-1999

@black--lightning

@j-velvet

@xoxabs88xox

@cyanide-cryptid

@callsignvenus

@artemissunn

@gcldtom

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@birdy-bat-writes

@wkndwlff

@chaosmxlcolm

@iminlovewithenchilidadas

@daniibzz

@avis15

@valhallavalkyrie9

@ijustwantedplums

@hal3ynicol3

@avengersfan25

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@lovingperfectionsblog

@bblpbb

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@adaydreamaway08

@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

[redgoldsparks]

California Rapid Response Networks

These graphics are from the California Immigrant Policy Center instagram but you can find the same information with hyperlinks on their website (copied as a transcript below the cut).

California Rapid Response Networks

Northern California

Central del Pueblo Rapid Response Network (Humboldt County) – 707-200-8091

Sacramento Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 916-382-0256

Bay Area

​Alameda County Immigration Legal and Education Partnership (ACILEP) – Hotline: 510-241-4011

Marin Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 415-991-4545

North Bay Rapid Response Network (Sonoma, Napa & Solano Counties) – Hotline: 707- 800-4544

San Francisco Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 415-200-1548

San Mateo County Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 203-666-4472

Santa Clara County Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 408-290-1144

Stand Together Contra Costa – Hotline: 925-900-5151

Central Coast & Central Valley

Kern County Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 661-432-2230

Monterey County Solidarity Network  – Hotline: 831-204-8082

Santa Cruz County Your Allied Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 831-239-4289

805 Immigrant Rapid Response Network (Santa Barbara, Ventura & San Luis Obispo Counties) – Hotline:  (805) 870-8855

Valley Watch Rapid Response Network (San Joaquin, Stanislaus, Merced, Madera, Tulare, Kings, Kern) – 559-206-0151

​​Southern California

Long Beach Community Defense Network  – Hotline: 562-245-9575

Los Angeles Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 888-624-4752

Orange County Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 714-881-1558, Email:  casereferral@ocrapidresponse.org

(San Bernardino & Riverside Counties)​ Inland Coalition For Immigrant Justice’s Resource – Hotline: 909-361-4588

Southern California Bilingual Rapid Response Legal Resource Hotline (if detained by ICE) – Hotline: 213-833-8283

San Diego

(North County San Diego) Alianza Comunitaria – Text Alerts for Checkpoints: Envía “Alianza” al 33733 para español / Send “Alianza2” to 33733 for English

San Diego Rapid Response Network – Hotline: 619-536-0823

Additional Resources:

Videos: We Have Rights (English, Spanish, Arabic, Mandarin, Haitian Creole, Russian, Urdu)

Referrals: Deportation Defense Legal Services –

Referrals: Immigration Legal Services (DACA, TPS, Citizenship, etc.)

Know Your Rights Resources

Know Your Rights Materials

Know Your Rights Under the US Constitution – No Matter Who is President (NILC) 

A know-your-rights handout in eight languages to help families prepare for a possible interaction with ICE  

A  Know Your Rights Toolkit by ILRC includes handouts, family preparedness plans and a train-the-trainer toolkit 

Printable ILRC red cards in to distribute to community members (Spanish here)

Know-Your-Rights tutorial videos in 7 languages to help prepare individuals for encounters with Immigration & Customs Enforcement (ICE) (Spanish here) 

CLINIC Know Your Rights flyers

WeHaveRights – Creating an Emergency Plan 

Noncitizen Protest Protection: 10 Things Noncitizen Protestors Need to Know 

KYR / Community Education Preparedness Resources (NIPNLG)

Know Your Rights and Creating Safe Spaces Resource List (NILC) 

Know Your Rights Resources (NIJC)

KYR Community Education Materials:

KYR / Community Education Preparedness – Curated Resources (NIPNLG)

KYR Flyer – English (NPNA)

KYR Graphics – English (NPNA)

KYR Community Education Presentation – English 

KYR Community Education Presentation – Spanish

Train the Trainer KYR Presentation Outline (1 Hour) – English

Train the Trainer KYR Presentation Outline (1 Hour) – Spanish

ILRC Know Your Rights Train the Trainer Toolkit

TRP Immigrant Justice KYR Resources

NAKASEC Resources & Know Your Rights App

Family Preparedness

ILRC Family Preparedness Plan (English / Spanish)

Family Preparedness Plan (TIRRC)

Appleseed Manual on Protecting Assets 

Family Preparedness 2 Pager (NPNA)

Family Preparedness 2 Pager – Spanish (NPNA)

Family Preparedness Graphic Carousel (NPNA)

Deportation & Removal Defense

Building Community-Driven Legal Services to Empower, Protect, and Defend Our Communities: Field Guide for Deportation Defense

Deportation Defense Manual (Make the Road NY)

Community FAQ: What Do We Expect at the Beginning of Trump 2.0 & How You Can Get Prepared (NIPNLG)

[mitchipedia]

Stand up for your neighbors in San Diego

In light of recent ICE raids at the Federal Courthouse and Buona Forchetta Restaurant in San Diego and in Los Angeles, and the outrageous and dangerous Republican overreaction to Los Angeles protests, it’s important for all of us to find ways to turn our grief and outrage into action for our immigrant neighbors.

ICE raids are violent and excessive, but the community stepped up to fight back and block ICE’s departure. Here in San Diego, ICE responded with military tactics, including flashbangs and smoke grenades. As we write this (Sunday afternoon, June 8), it’s unclear how the situation in Los Angeles will play out. But it’s clear that Republicans want a mass, violent confrontation with protesters, and if they can’t find the occasion, they’ll manufacture it. And Republicans want to break blue states, starting with California.

Here are some things you can do to help preserve freedom and help your neighbors, compiled from local community organizations:

The No Kings March is Sunday, June 14, at Waterfront Park in San Diego. It’s part of a national day of action. See the link, preceding for information on that event and other No Kings events elsewhere in the county and online.

Volunteer to help elect Democrat Paloma Aguirre as County Supervisor in the July 1 special election. If Aguirre loses, the County Board of Supervisors flips Republican. The Aguirre campaign is asking people to canvass and phone-bank. While the district is overwhelmingly Democratic, Republican turnout is high, making this an at-risk election for us, as Democratic Party community leader Cynara Kidwell Velazquez noted at the recent June meeting of the La Mesa-Foothills Democratic Club.

What can you do if you see harassment? Sign up for bystander intervention training by Right To Be. That organization has classes to help protect against harassment of immigrants, women, disabled people, Jews, Muslims, LGBTQIA+ people, in public spaces, online, in the workplace, and so on.

Submit a public comment to your San Diego County Supervisor by June 12 to urge them to increase funding for immigration legal services. You can also email your county supervisor directly.

Also, tell the San Diego City Council that they should be funding community services, not surveillance tech. While our neighborhoods in San Diego are in desperate need of essential services such as libraries, parks and public restrooms, the city is cutting funding for those essential services, instead spending millions of dollars on a mass surveillance system: the Flock Automatic License Plate Reader (ALPR) and “smart” streetlight cameras—wasting money and threatening our privacy and civil liberties.

According to a petition on Change.org: “Flock ALPR tries to track the public movements of every individual in San Diego, 24/7, aligning with authoritarian agendas and the concerning trend of increasing surveillance. Instead of fostering community safety through positive and supportive measures, we are being forced into a society that values monitoring over meaningful safety solutions.” Sign the petition to oppose mass surveillance now.

Further resources:

Showing Up for Racial Justice is an organization for white people working for justice. The San Diego chapter is active and will next meet June 22, at a location to be determined. Sign up for email updates. SURJ’s Linktree lists calls to action.

The Episcopal Church Office of Government Relations' Migration, Refugees and Immigration webpage is a great resource, including an immigrant action toolkit. The Episcopal Diocese of San Diego’s Migration Ministry webpage provides useful definitions, Know Your Rights info, and links to partner organizations that offer a variety of ways to help immigrants.

Mobilize US and CBFDIndivisible list events, petitions and volunteer opportunities.

Take Action for San Diego Democrats is a web page run by the county Democratic Party with information on upcoming events, supporting the Aguirre campaign, learning more about running for local office, Planned Parenthood, how to make effective protest signs and more.

I wrote this for an upcoming issue of the newsletter of the La Mesa-Foothills Democratic Club.

[ms-demeanor]

So the thing with my job is that we're three companies in a trenchcoat. What happened is that a couple of very wealthy guys who used to work in tech decided they were going to buy up companies and mash them together into a bigger company, which is a not-uncommon way to grow MSPs.

We're going to call the first company the Fluffy Bunnies. They were a very stable, white-glove-service MSP with 10 employees serving 30 high-end clients in San Francisco. They have existed for 16 years but got bought out two years ago.

The second company are the Scrappy Mutts. They were acquired about a year ago. They were a moderately stable group handling around 90 medium and small clients in orange county and san diego, they had 7 employees.

The third company, my company, are the Strangled Bats, and were acquired seven months ago. We were a sinking ship with 5 employees handling 185 medium and small clients and one very big client in Los Angeles.

I'm going to call our current company Frankenstein Inc (FI).

All but two of the Scrappy Mutts have left FI. So when we are talking about people who are "familiar" with the 90 clients from that group, it is one tech and one office admin. We have lost a few clients from that group because when FI took over, the service level changed (turns out the previous owner was providing a lot of free services and free computers, which FI will not and should not do).

All but one of the level three techs from the Fluffy Bunnies have left FI. We have several level two techs from the Fluffy Bunnies still on the team, and they make our white-glove, tier-1 san francisco clients feel very well cared for but there's no real account management going on. We have several big clients from this group who are shaky.

Nobody from the Strangled Bats has bounced. None of our clients have bounced. Gary not only trained us to suffer, he trained our clients to actually pay for their services.

Initially, one of the owner/investors of FI was the CEO. When he brought on the Fluffy Bunnies, he told them they were going to be the leadership and guidance for the company. He told them how he wanted the finances handled and set rules for some procedures. When FI merged the Fluffy Bunnies and the Scrappy Mutts, the Fluffy Bunny management had to scramble to figure out how to distribute workload when they quadrupled the size of their customer base and had to figure out how to merge contracts from the Scrappy Mutt clients to their system. This did not go well.

Because that didn't go well, the CEO hired a Professional Services VP and later a Project Manager. The PS VP got fired about a month after the Strangled Bats came onboard, and the Project Manager had only been there for a month at that point.

About a month after his VP was fired, the project manager looked at what a tire fire the acquisition of the Scrappy Mutts and the Strangled Bats was, and started organizing an acquisition process that we are putting in place for the next acquisition, because the owner/investors very much want to keep acquiring other companies.

Since the Strangled Bats have come onboard, ticket distribution has been shot to shit and MOST clients are unhappy with how we're meeting SLAs.

Because of this, the owner/CEO hired two outside execs, one of whom is a CEO with fortune 100 experience to replace him. These two execs have now been at the company long enough to flip on a lightswitch and see the cockroaches scrambling around.

The Fluffy Bunnies are middle management. They want things to move smoothly and customers to be happy. They are more concerned with service outcomes and dropping everything to make clients happy than they are with stability. The Fluffy Bunny response to the cockroaches is to say "yes that is quite unpleasant but we must overlook that for the moment to make sure our customers feel seen." The Scrappy Mutt reaction to the cockroaches is to go "yes, those do seem to be squirmy things, but I am currently chasing this tennis ball (being run ragged by being the only one who really knows 90 clients)". The Strangled Bat response is "yeah okay I eat cockroaches I guess I can grab those and do everything else" because we have been forced to do exactly that.

I thought I was signing on to a company where I'd get to be a Fluffy Bunny or at least a Scrappy Mutt. I am tired of being a Strangled Bat. But if I can't be a Fluffy Bunny then I can at least take care of the cockroaches because the Fluffy Bunnies are pretending they aren't there and they're busy chewing through our cables.

The new exec team doesn't want us to be fluffy bunnies or scrappy mutts or strangled bats working together at Frankenstein Inc, they want us to be normal human employees of a normal human company that is one company with one set of standards and one way of doing things instead of three companies in a trenchcoat. They are in the process of putting these standards into place, and the friction I am experiencing comes from techs on the ground chafing against change, but it ALSO comes from Fluffy Bunny management.

We have one fluffy bunny who is very hesitant to make decisive action and who doesn't want to bother the CEO. The issue is that they are the main interface with the CEO and I report directly to this person. The CEO is my grandboss and if I reach out to him directly I'm overstepping. This fluffy bunny is a yes-man who gets things done by working 70-80 hours a week instead of escalating or delegating and is unlikely to initiate change when it comes to things like "we need to have a drastic reassessment of how we document the hardware we've sold." The OTHER fluffy bunny manager is supposed to be doing service assignments and wants to be a manager, but does not like being told to act more professional, or working one weekend a month, and when you ask this manager for help the response you get is frequently "I don't care" or "ask the other bunny." I don't report directly to this person, but they have oversight over my tickets and can assign me to projects.

I don't want my outlook on the new execs to be too rosy, but it's such a tremendous relief that other people can see the cockroaches and understand that they need to be addressed. I do genuinely believe that the new execs are looking to promote based on how the team responds to the changes they're implementing, and how people tackle the issues that are coming to light, but they're still business dudes in a business setting and there's every possibility that I could work like crazy until my next review and get a "Great Job" sticker and a cost of living raise (which, hey, still better than Gary, but not good enough to set myself on fire for). Given that these guys have been the only ones to put their money where their mouth is in regard to my employment situation (new CEO is why I got my raise, and because I was making so little before it's still not a huge dollar amount but it was a 15% raise which is not nothing) I'm inclined to trust them at least a little. Buuuuuuut I'm also definitely documenting all the shit that I'm doing and I'm maybe also starting a separate document of when I needed something from fluffy bunny management and ran into a brick wall, because the exec team is very firm that i need to escalate through the bunnies.

I will say, if there's anything on our side, it's inertia. Changing MSPs is a huge giant miserable headache so it takes a lot for a customer to bail on us and we do have a solid customer base. Now we just need to make sure none of their goddamned servers implode because the fucking fluffy bunnies configured RAID 5 with no spares because "my fucking server blew up and you didn't have any plan in place to keep me up and running" is absolutely a reason that companies will drop MSPs.

_____________________

The whole server drive situation was because I was trying to wrangle bunnies; it fell into my lap before my pay raise and title change and after that (and the raid 5 panic) I couldn't get bunnies to escalate it or take it seriously and had to start dragging bats into the mix. The CEO has been very clear that this shit is a cockroach and needs to get handled but I'm not supposed to go around my bunny manager to alert him to cockroaches. My bunny manager's response to the fact that the server was RAID 10 (which was checked and confirmed by a bat) was "Wow that's so funny, I wonder why the system was reporting it wrong in the first place? That's some pressure off, huh?" and that's why I was losing my shit yesterday.

[allbark-no-bite]

marriage and honor.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.5k)

summary: the Navy has already taken two people from your life, and you don’t intend to let there be a third. that is until Jake Seresin walks into your life

warnings: severe plot holes, mentions of character death, swearing

authors note: based off of the movie Purple Hearts. it’s a great movie and i highly suggest watching it! please bear with me in the beginning of this, the plot holes fix themselves, i promise lol. i literally threw this together because i wrote one scene for shits and giggles and had to commit to it

(read parts two and three here: december and devotion, cats and christmas)

————————————————————————

No one ever expects to have to bury their brother at fifteen. Kinda just like no one expects to have to bury their other brother at eighteen. But you do it the first time and then you do it again three years later. It's a bit like deja vu the second time, like you're reliving the actual nightmare all over again. Except this time there's no one to hold your hand and tell you it's all going to be alright because he's dead and buried too.

They both die honorable deaths in service to their country. At least that's what they say at the memorials. You're not so sure there's anything comforting about dying honorably. They're both still dead, honored or not.

Raised by your grandparents, you'd grown up the youngest of three on a military base smack dab in the middle of San Diego, better yet known as Fightertown USA. True military brats, your old brothers enlisted straight out of high school, one after the other. As their young and impressionable kid sister, you worshiped the ground they walked on and had your heart set on following in their footsteps. That was of course, until they both went and died.

'Sometime these things just happen', is what you were told. And you know, freak accidents do happen. Engines fail, training exercises go awry, safety precautions are ignored. But that doesn't make up for the fact that lightning has, against all odds, stuck the same place twice.

So after the Navy takes away not one but two people from your life, you swear off all things to do with military life. The moment you graduate high school you pay out of pocket just to move off of the base into a shitty the-bedroom-and-bathroom-are-in-the-same-place apartment. You go to college and get the kind of degree that looks good on paper but you can't really get a job with. But it's fine because it helped you to put the past behind you and move on. So much that when your grandmother passes away unexpectedly, leaving your grandfather widowed, you're able to stomach moving back closer to home to take care of him.

At least, you'd thought that you had moved on.

Now, standing in the middle of the courthouse wearing what had been your college graduation dress (the only white dress you could find on such short notice) and watching the man before you slip a ring on your finger, you're not so sure. As a matter of a fact, you actually feel sick, queasy like you might have to bend over the nearest trashcan to get the blood rushing to your head again. That might would be a good idea because what the hell were you thinking.

Jake must take notice of the expression on your face because he offers you a weak smile, his pink lips pressed together. The same thought must be running through his mind too because he also looks like he might be sick at any moment.

What the hell were either of you thinking?

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Thankfully the minister is too bored looking with his own job to notice that both of you are looking worse for wear. He also completely forgets to say 'you may now kiss the bride', which is another thing to be thankful for. That might have been the straw that broke the camel's back and sent both you and Jake running for the hills. Instead he mumbles a unenthusiastic congratulations and departs from the room, leaving you and Jake standing numbly side by side.

In the following seconds after the minister leaves the room, silence settles between the two of you, partially due to shock and partially because you don't even know what to say. It's a sight, Jake in his pristine navy dress whites and you in your too short college graduation dress.

Finally, Jake clears his throat, swallowing. "Well, there's no turning back now."

*queue rewind noise* 

You may be wondering how we got here.

*six days ago*

"C'mon baby, you didn't think that was funny? Girls usually love that line."

He'd been after you all night, smiling, cracking jokes, buying you beers. You had to admit, he was nothing if not persistant.

"Unfortunately for you, I don't date funny guys." Despite your tone, you're actually genuinely amused by the situation. He's trying so hard, and it's getting him absolutely nowhere.

He's handsome, without a doubt the most attractive man at the bar, but he could be the most attractive man in the world and you still wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Not with that smile and defiantly not with that uniform on.

"And why is that?" he laughs, undeterred by your blatant disinterest. His friends are watching, have been watching the two of you do this dance all night, and he's not about to back down now.

You watch the smile lines that appear on his tanned face, the way his eyes crinkle in amusement as he awaits on your answer. He's probably a few years your senior, early thirties if that's anything to go by.

"Funny guys are dangerous. They make you laugh and laugh and then boom you're naked."

His smile twitches and yeah, you can be funny too, wise guy.

"Is that where you think this is going?" he asks.

"Where else would it be going?"

And that's how it all started. The beginning of the end.

"You know navy spouses get a monthly stipend and are allowed to live on base?"

You remain facing the bar, peeling at the label on your bottle, not bothering to glance to your side. "You know, I really fucking wish Natasha would keep her mouth shut."

"(Y/n)—"

"It's no one else's fucking business what—"

He grabs the seat of your stool, nearly jerking it out from under you as he pulls it closer to his own. "Listen to me," he growls, a stark change from his usual demeanor.

Stubbornly leaning away so that you're not so close, you regard him with suspicious and narrowed eyes. You raise an eyebrow as if to say he's got your attention, however unwillingly.

"Right now, we're both in a tight spot, okay?"

You knew about his dad. Heard the whole spiel from Natasha— who you're learning that while, your best friend, cannot be trusted to keep her mouth shut— about how they weren't on good terms, hadn't talked since Jake got into the academy, and suddenly he calls out of the blue to tell Jake that he'd had enough of his son's playing around and that it was time for him to start thinking about getting married. That if he didn't within the next few months, he'd arrange the whole thing himself.

"You need a place to live—" You shush him, eyes darting to the people around you. You don't need anyone knowing that you can't exactly afford to pay your rent. Jake rolls his eyes because he doubts anyone could hear him even if he was yelling with how loud it is in the bar, but he lowers his voice regardless. "You need a place to live, and I need to get my old man off of my back..." He trails off, as if you should know where he's going with this.

You don't. You're just staring at him with an increasingly annoyed expression on your face, wondering how soon you can get out of this conversation.

He takes a deep breath and sighs. 

"Hear me out, okay? What if we get married?"

You had actually laughed in his face at first, and Jake was so dead serious about it that he didn't even dwell on the fact that it was the first time you had laughed at something that he'd said.

"Not a chance in hell, Seresin,"  had been your second response. But that's the thing with pretty guys, they can be awfully convincing.

It all happens so fast that you have metaphorical whiplash. Next thing you know, you're wearing a brand new diamond on your finger and going out to the bar with his entire squad the night before their deployment.

Of course, they're all a bit shocked at first. You would be too. You and Jake hadn't exactly been even remotely civil with each other just a few days prior. But if any of them are suspicious of your's and Jake's sudden union, they don't let on, all too happy to have something to celebrate before they ship out. Fanboy and Payback have each brought their wives and Natasha her girlfriend as well. You suppose you're expected to mingle with them, maybe shed a tear or two over the shared bond that your partners are going across the country, but you can't really find a way to connect with them so you kind of just avoid them altogether. You do feel bad, sitting there without a care in the world while they all try to offer comfort and reassurance to each other. But you don't really know what else to do because it's not like you're exactly sad.

Thankfully Javy, or as he's known, Coyote, stands up and raises his near empty bottle of beer in the air and saves you from anymore uncomfortable sitting. "I'd like to make a toast! To the newlyweds!" You spoke too soon. The table cheers and raises their bottles in response, all of the attention turning to where you and Jake are sitting. Cheeks immediately flushing, you have to refrain from sinking down in your seat. Jake is grinning, accepting the few rough pats on the back that he receives from Rooster beside him.

And just when you think that's the worst it's going to get, it gets worse.

"Kiss!"

You're not sure who starts it, but like teenage boys, the entire squad parrots in unison.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

At first Jake just laughs and shakes his head good naturedly, shrugging off the insistent urging of his friends, and you think that's going to be the end of it. But the chanting doesn't stop and finally Jake turns towards you. Your face is probably red hot and undeniably panicked. Heart racing, you try to read him in the half second that you're given as he leans and wraps his arm around you. Is he going to kiss you? Are you supposed to kiss him?

Neither option happens. Jake's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side and at the last moment, he turns to press a kiss to your cheek. A series of disappointed boos follow but they are drowned out by clapping for the most part. He's uncomfortably close, closer than you ever would have liked to be to Jake Seresin, but you have to remind yourself that it's all for show. When Jake does turn away, you can still feel the warmth of his lips smeared against your cheek. Even so, he hasn't let go of you pressed into his side. 

Your heart still racing, you reason with yourself that if Jake can play the part, you might as well too, and under that pretense, allow yourself to hide your face into his shoulder to conceal it's redness. The smell of his cologne washes over you, and oddly enough, you don't hate it. It's subtle, with a hit of what might be amber, and nothing like the overwhelmingly masculine scent that you would have pegged him for. 

If Jake finds your sudden willingness to touch him strange, he doesn't comment on it, likely assuming that you're just trying to make this thing between the two of you seem real. You somewhat reluctantly pull away when Coyote's voice raises again.

"And here's to shooting down some fucking MiGs!"

Again, the table erupts into a chorus of cheering and hollering. You still, allowing Jake to fully pull away from your side while the proclamation rings out in your head. It's a very grounding moment, and suddenly you feel very alone sitting at the table. No one seems to have noticed your shift in mood. Maybe you're the only one put off by Javy's statement because this is their reality. There are people who are not coming home from this mission; everyone just likes to assume it won't be them. You know better.

You can't help it, the words just come out of your mouth. "That's a fucked up thing to say."

It's the first time you've really spoken up the entire night and all heads turn towards you. Based on the look in Jake's eyes, which is a bit apprehensive, as if he knows this is headed nowhere good, you realize you probably should have just kept your mouth shut.

Payback shifts uncomfortably in his chair while the rest of the crew glances around the table wearing varying states of confusion. Their gazes shift from you to Jake, as if waiting for some sort of explanation. 

Coyote is the first to break the silence. "Look, sweetheart, that's just the way things are. Here in the Navy, that's a badge of honor. Your boy Hangman here is the only one of us with a confirmed air-to-air kill."

"(Y/n)—", Jake attempts to interject, but you're not about to let him explain himself to you in front of all these people.

You set your jaw and swallow back the anger threatening to rise up in your throat. "Yeah, because killing people is so honorable."

Coyote scoffs. "We're just doing our jobs. And if that means taking down a few planes while we're at it, so be it."

"Your job is to protect people," you snap. "There are people out there who have families—"

"Alright, that's enough—" Jake begins to interject for the second time, but this time it's Coyote who interrupts him.

"Come on, man. You're really going to let her say that kinda shit—"

You stand up. "I don't need his permission to—"

"I SAID ENOUGH." This time it's startling enough to cut both of you off. "(Y/n), what is your fucking problem?" Jake snaps.

You flinch at the harshness of his question.

Your eyes travel around the quiet table, where everyone is holding their breath, and then back to Jake. His green eyes reflect a type of pissed off what would be terrifying if you weren't so angry yourself.

A small, logical part of you knows that he has a right to be angry. You've picked a fight for no apparent reason in front of his friends and he hasn't the slightest clue why. It's not his fault your brothers are dead and you blame the Navy for it.

Regardless, that doesn't make up for the fact that you're pissed off by his defense of what Coyote has said. Even though you probably owe him an explanation, you're not about to answer him when he's just yelled at you. You also know that if you don't say something, he's going to and you'd rather die before letting him tell you off in front of all these people. You abruptly push away from the table and storm off for the bar top. You can hear Jake chasing after you.

"(Y/n)."

You ignore him in favor of heading towards the back door of the Hard Deck, pushing past people regardless of whether they're in your way or not. Being slightly more considerate, you can hear Jake moving much slower as he excuses himself through the crowd.

"(Y/n)—"

You come to a stop once you reach the door, spinning on your heels with a fire in your eyes.

"What's my problem?!"

Behind you, you can hear the loud jesting and jeering of his friends back at the table. They're still ruffled with excitement from your outburst, and Coyote's voice follows your retreating back. "Jesus man, get your girl under control."

I'm not his girl, you want to snap. He doesn't own me.

Jake has stopped a few feet away from you. 

"What's my fucking problem?! My problem is that your friends are sitting over there calling murder honor."

Jake sighs harshly though his nose. Shaking his head, green eyes looking up, he begins, "He didn't mean—"

"No. I know what he meant, Jake. You're all a bunch of cowards. You're all too goddamn scared to admit that maybe you're not doing as much good as you thought over there, and so you just justify it by saying all killing is good killing, right?" you spit.

His vibrant green eyes harden but he doesn't respond. "That's some real goddamn honor, right, Jake?" you repeat, angrier this time, wanting more than just some watered down reaction from him. If there's one thing that pisses you off about Jake, it's that you've never gotten anything more than what he's conditioned himself to respond with. It's like he's locked up in this stupid box of his and the most you can ever get out of him is a glance. You want him to be angry with you.

"That's enough." His jaw is tight, and you can tell that even despite his lowered voice and rather subdued demeanor, you've hit a nerve.

"Admit it. Admit that you—“

"(Y/n)." His voice adopts a seriousness that you've never heard from him before. It sounds almost dangerous.

Jake steps towards you and for a moment you think you've won. And then in the moment following that, you actually think that he's going to get physically angry with you. Your heart stalls. Jake's a big guy, a naval aviator, and no matter how good he sells himself to be, he could hurt you if he wanted too. You would never have pegged him as someone who would put his hands on a girl, even after only knowing him for a week, but a man is a man, perfectly ironed uniform or not.

Only he doesn't. Instead he steps into your space and leans in closer than you've  ever been before. His hand presses into your back, firmly pulling you into his chest so that you have no choice but to shift closer to him, your bodies molding together. "I said that's enough. They can see us arguing."

The press of his mouth to your ear conceals the exchange of your conversation from the listening table. You can smell his cologne on the starched collar of his uniform.

"I don't care if they see us—" Pushing your palm into his chest, you try to reestablish the distance between you, but like a brick wall, Jake doesn't budge.

"You realize that we have to make this look real?" he hisses. "From here on out, they're watching everything we do. The government is watching everything we do. Do you understood that?" His voice is tense, and it sounds more urgent than angry now.

Standing there, you realize his heart is thumping heavily beneath your palm. His body is uncomfortably rigid, like a scared dog waiting for its owner to show up and see the mess he's made. Behind you, the table has gone relatively quite. Rooster murmurs something along the lines of, "It's a little early for there to be trouble in paradise already."

Someone—Coyote—responds, "I don't think he thought this through, man. They won't last two weeks."

Jake's eyes meet yours, and you know he can hear them too. You swallow, trying to relax a little in his grasp. He's right, you have to make this look real, and fighting right off the bat doesn't exactly look good.

"Are they still looking at us?" You finally ask, leery now to even speak too loud.

Jake breathes a sigh of relief beside your ear, taking your sudden quiet as cooperation. "Yeah, just keep talking, okay? Act like we're working it out."

Despite trying to appear more comfortable than you are, you don't move your hand from his chest. The coarse material of his dress whites rises and falls steadily beneath your palm. It's calming in a sense, and you try to focus on its rhythm rather than the fact that you're so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth beside your ear.

"Still looking?" You ask after a few moments pass.

He hums. "Yep."

"Well then what do we do? We can't just stand like this forever." The longer you stand together, the more details you become aware of. Like the fact that his face is freshly shaven against your cheek and that he must have brushed his teeth before this because his breath smells like Listerine.

"Look at me."

"What?" You ask, your brow furrowing as he pulls away. His hand that had been holding your waist firmly in place lifts to grip your jaw.

"You're going to have to kiss me," he explains, glancing briefly over your shoulder.

"What?" Before you can even protest, he's leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Without the time to process what exactly is happening given your state of alarm, all you can do is go along with it. His lips mold against yours in what might be the most borderline tame kiss you've ever had. Despite this, you are reluctantly surprised to note how good of a kisser he is. It's just forceful enough to let you know he's in control but not so much that it's unpleasant. His lips are full and taste vaguely of his mouth wash.

You don't kiss him back.

It makes no difference to the group behind you whether you actually kiss or not; they can't tell from this distance and all they have to do is believe it happened. It's more for your own self preservation than anything. It's one thing to play the part, it's another thing to get caught up in it and catch feelings. And with Jake Seresin, that was a dangerous game to play. You'd already felt it, him prying his way under your skin when he'd held you at the table and the smell of his cologne filled your sense. It would be that easy.

To his credit, Jake lingers just long enough to make the kiss believable before pulling away. Even si, it still feels uncomfortably long. He leans back and you don't miss the fact that he wipes his hand across his mouth. "Sorry," he mutters under his breath, looking away.

"Jake..." you begin, immediately feeling bad, but he stops you.

"Whatever, (Y/n). It's fine." He won't look you in the eyes now. You turn to look over your shoulder, desperate to get yourself out of this increasingly bad situation .

"They're not looking," you say, finding the table now amicably chatting with each other rather than focused on the two of you. The sudden PDA must have finally diverted their attention. "...you can step away now."

"Right," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. Jake drops his hand from your waist and steps back like he's glad to finally put some distance between the two of you. So much for making this look natural.

You return to the table shortly after, in hand to make it appear as if you've made up and smiling tightly when Bob cheerily welcomes you back to break the awkward silence. Once seated, you drop each other's hand beneath the table immediately. The rest of the evening is spent avoiding contributing to conversations that involve the other. If anyone notices, they don't comment on the fact that the two of you hardly look at each other for the rest of the evening, and somehow you manage to put up an otherwise happily married front.

When a few of the guys finally get a little bit too drunk, specifically Rooster, you're all too happy when Natasha calls it a night. Because they ship out the next day, Jake drives you back to the hotel where all of the married couples have rented out a room for the night. Apparently it's a tradition or something. You make the drive in silence. You let him check into the room and carry both of your bags up, disappearing into the small bathroom to splash cool water onto your face. It helps to ease some of the tension from this evening. Leaning over the sink, you watch the water swirl down the drain.

Is this crazy? This is crazy, right?

Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands when you step out. He's taken off his hat and suddenly he seems a lot more fragile than he was a few minutes ago. There's a softness to him, something having been previously concealed by the precise styling of his hair and tense pull of his set jaw. Before you can break the silence, he sucks in an uneasy breath.

"Hey, we need to talk about something. Um, you know... in case I..."

In case he doesn't come back.

You swallow, looking down at the ground. After tonight, after he's kissed you, all of this is starting to feel a little bit to real. What the hell happened to pretending? This was all supposed to be pretend. "Jake, please don't do that—"

He stands up from the end of the bed, and you notice the folded paper in his hands. "This is all of my personal information, you know, bank accounts, passwords, phone numbers... Anything you might need if something happens to me." He says it all as if it's so normal, but you can hear the apprehension in the thinness of his voice.

Already, you're shaking your head as he hands you the letter. "Jake, please. I don't want that." Your heart is pounding and all you want to do in the moment is go back in time and never have agreed to do this in the first place. This was insane. What were you thinking? Like you were going to put yourself through this again? 

"(Y/n)—“ Jake tries, interrupting your spiral of thoughts.

"I said NO, Jake," you snap, stepping back from him and the letter. There are tears burning at the backs of your eyes, like you might burst into a hit of hysteria at any moment. "I change my mind. I can't do this..."

Jake's eyes glance from you to the paper in his hand and then back to you, and then he drops his outstretched arm with what sounds like a laugh. "Right. Not like we're fuckin' married or anything." He releases a puff of air from his cheeks and runs his hand through his hair like he's contemplating pulling it out. "Do you know how screwed we are if anyone finds out about this? Do you, (Y/n)??" he asks, his voice rising to a concerning level. "We're done!" 

"Jake, I—"

He tosses the letter onto the bed and sits back down with a heavy sigh, looking down at his feet. When he finally speaks again, his voice had lowered to a more acceptable volume. "It's a bit too late for you to back out now. If the Navy finds out about this— if anyone one finds out about this, I could lose my job. We could both go to jail."

Silence settles over the two of you as Jake sits on the bed, staring at his feet, and you stand there in the middle of the room, willing your heart to stop pounding in your chest. You need to get out of here before your heart implodes. You turn and grab your coat from by the door.

"Where are you going?"  Jake asks, his voice tired and annoyed.

"I need some air," you say, shrugging on your coat and opening the door. He doesn't try to stop you on the way out. 

You regret the decision the second that you walk out the door. Now that the sun is gone, it's freezing outside. Your original plan had been to go for a walk to clear your head but you doubt now you'd make it very far. Walking down the stairs and out into the nearly empty parking lot, you look around, considering whether or not you would survive the trek to a gas station. When you realize you've left your phone back in the room, you decide against it. You aren't dumb enough to walk in the dark alone. Instead you head towards Jake's truck, which is parked out by itself at the end of the lot. To your surprise, you find it's unlocked and the door swings open when you tug on the handle. You climb in and the switch to lock the door behind you. Even the inside of the car is cold but at least it's out of the wind. You hug your knees into your check and tuck your chin into them, curling up in the driver's seat to keep warm.

And then you just sob.

It's the kind of sobbing that starts long and drawn out and then escalates into the rapid breathing that happens when you can't get enough air into your lungs and it feels as though there's an entire golf ball stuck in your throat. You haven't cried this hard since you were a kid—since your first brother died. You didn't cry the second time, didn't allow yourself to feel anything the second time because you knew there wasn't going to be anyone to pull you back together if you did. 

At least being away from all of this had allowed you some time to forget, even if for just a moment, that they were gone without having to be constantly reminded. You had moved to put as much distance between yourself and the Navy as possible. Because that way life wouldn't get the chance to take another person from you in the same way. Looking at the ring on your finger now, that's exactly the opposite of what you had just done. This was just supposed to be until you could get back on your feet, and if it helped Jake out in the process then great. Now that you think about it, it was stupid of you to think that you would be able to make it through this with out catching feelings for him. 

Now you're going to lose him too.

You cry until you almost make yourself sick and then some more. Your sobbing is interrupted every few minutes when you choke on your own air and have to swallow the golf ball that is lodged in your throat so that you can breathe. You're not sure how long you sit there just crying. Surely at least an hour has passed. By the time your sobbing has slowed, your head hurts and your chest aches enough to be sore.

Knock knock knock

You jump at the noise, head shooting up from between the bracket of your knees. It's dark outside, the parking lot just barley lit in a wash of grey by the moon. Even so, you can make out Jake's broad figure in the darkness.

"Open the damn door." His order comes out in a puff of frosty condensation that warms a spot on the window, his voice only partially muffled by the barrier. His shoulders are hunched against the cold, the upturned collar of his coat doing little to protect him from the brutal conditions.

For a while you just stare at him through the window, swallowing back the spit in your throat.

"Open the door," he repeats, knowing better than to think that you can't hear him. If only locking yourself in his car was the solution of all of your problems. Reluctantly, you reach over and click the lock, slowly rolling down the window.

After it stops, you stare at each other through the open car window, separated only by the frame of door that he could now easily reach out and open. His soft brown hair is mushed and in disarray, nose and cheeks tinted pink form the chill. The pleasant green of his eyes is mostly hidden as he squints against the wind.

Finally, you suck in a breathe, your chest shuddering. "I cannot do this," you stress, all of the fear that you've been shoving down now presenting itself in a singular sentence.

Jake sighs, his face softening to reflect a look of sympathy. "Look, I promise you, it's not that bad. You'll come with me to the carrier when I ship out tomorrow, we'll hug each other goodbye, and then you won't even have to see me for a couple of months. It'll be like none of this ever happened. And when I come back... we'll figure it out. Okay?" His voice is soft and understanding, like he's talking to a child.

You stare at the dashboard, your stomach still churning anxiously. "That's not what I'm... It's not you, Jake." Quite the opposite. "I lost my brothers to the Navy. Both of them. And I don't think I can take losing anyone else."

Immediately Jake's face falls as he puts everything into place. Your initial distaste for him, your furious outburst at Hard Deck, your reluctance to have have anything to do with the Navy... "I—God, I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I had no idea."

You shrug, calming down now that you've finally let go over everything that you've been holding in. "I asked Natasha not to tell you. I just thought that I could get over it so what was the point in even telling you?"

The wind blowing into through the open window is bone chilling and so you can only imagine how cold Jake is standing outside the car. For a while there's only the sound of his quiet breathing.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, (Y/n)," he says into the darkness.

"How can you be so sure?"

Hands shoved into his pockets, body braced against the wind, he shrugs. "I'm not. But if I didn't tell myself that every morning, I'd never get out of bed."

Sighing, you pull the handle on the inside of the door. "C'mon, it's fucking cold out there."

Jake huffs as if to say, you're telling me, and grabs the handle to pull open the door. Only instead of climbing in, he steps further inside the door and grabs your head in his cold hands so that your faces are mere inches apart. "I mean it, kid. I'm not going to leave you, alright? You just gotta trust me."

Looking into his eyes, you know he means it. For the second time since you've known Jake, you really see him. Standing before you is the same man that you saw in both of your brothers. Granted, they were much younger than he is now, but you get it. You'd been trying to see him as anyone else other than the brothers you lost, praying that it would hurt less, but you can't make someone into something they're not. 

"Okay," you whisper. "I trust you, Jake."

You're awake hours earlier than what you're used to in the morning, but that's only because you had glanced at the alarm clock at half past three and realized that you only had few hours left with Jake. The both of you had returned to the hotel room and changed in comfortable silence, slipping into the single bed together without a word. Jake had reached over and pulled you into him without so much as a second thought. Now his body is draped heavily on top of yours, his nose tucked into your hair as your fingers trace along the bare skin of his exposed back. 

You switch between staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers change on the alarm clock, trying to think about anything other than the fact that Jake would wake up in about an hour, you'd drop him off at the carrier at six, and that would be it. You'd only just gotten him and now you were going to have to let him go.

When Jake's alarm does go off, you're more emotional than you thought you would be, but Jake seems to be fine, dutifully putting on his uniform and carefully packing all of his bags, so you try to put on a brave face. You move slowly, dragging out the process of getting dressed as long as possible just so that there's no excuse to leave for the dock any sooner than you have too. After you're done getting ready, you watch him shave once and then again for good measure before he ultimately decides that you've both wasted enough time putting off the inevitable.

The drive there is silent as well and would have been unbearable had Jake not reached over the consol to reassuringly squeeze your hand. He doesn't let go of it until you pull into the crowded port. Between people trying to get their things on board and a bunch of teary goodbyes, it's beyond you how you manage to find the Dagger Squad in the midst of the chaos. Fanboy and Payback are saying goodbye to their families while Rooster and Natasha chatter excitedly with an older man also dressed in naval attire, the name plate on his uniform identify him as 'Maverick'. It's all so overwhelming that only when Jake squeezes your hand again do you realize that it's time for you to say goodbye.

Reluctantly, you turn towards him, interlocked hands swinging between the two of you. He does his best to smile, and to his credit, it's not entirely fake. "Well," he sighs. "This it it."

"For now," you add, returning his soft smile as you look up at him.

"For now," Jake agrees, his smile brightening now that you seem to be okay also. He pauses, just staring down at you for a moment before he adds, "Are you going to let me kiss you?"

You smile, answering him this time without hesitation. "Only if you keep your promise."

Jake's large hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling your chin in his palm as he leans down to you. "I promise," he murmurs before pressing his mouth to yours, perhaps even more tender than he did the first time at Hard Deck. Only this time you reciprocate it, chasing his mouth as you lift up on your toes and run your fingers through the back of his hair. Groaning, Jake sighs into the kiss. It's dizzying and you don't know how it's possible to put all of the passion that you've been holding back into one kiss, but somehow you do. His lips are soft and you have to shove down the urge to grip his hair and demand him for more, because it by some miracle occurs to you that you're on a ship in front of hundreds people. 

Jake's the one to pull away, his eyes shining and pink lips slightly more swollen than they were a minute ago. You can't help but laugh, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his mouth with your thumb. "Goodbye, Jake."

"Goodbye, (Y/n). And don't forget, I'll see you soon."

[reasonsforhope]

The Kenya Wildlife Service celebrated the successful transfer of 21 eastern black rhinos to establish a new viable breeding population for the species that was on the brink of extinction decades ago.

In an 18-day exercise executed by highly trained capture and veterinary experts, the Loisaba Conservancy received the 21 rhinos from three different locations, becoming the 17th sanctuary in Kenya where the mammoth animals can roam and intermingle.

“It’s incredibly exciting to be part of the resettlement of rhinos to a landscape where they’ve been absent for 50 years,” said Tom Silvester, CEO of Loisaba Conservancy.

Kenya had 20,000 black rhinos in the 1970s before poachers decimated them for their horns. By the time the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) was established in 1989, rhino numbers had declined to below 400.

Since then, Kenya’s eastern black rhinos have made a remarkable comeback and today there are an estimated 1,004 individuals.

Kenya is a stronghold of the eastern sub species of black rhino, hosting approximately 80 percent of the entire world’s surviving population.

“Surpassing the milestone of 1,000 rhinos within four decades is a significant accomplishment,” said Munira Bashir, Director of The Nature Conservancy in Kenya.

The reintroduction this month of these 21 animals this month is a great milestone in Kenya’s rhino recovery action plan, and was made possible by support from The Nature Conservancy, San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, other partners—and the three reserves from where the 21 rhinos originated, Nairobi National Park, Ol Pejeta Conservancy and Lewa Conservancy.

“In the recent past, one of the main causes of mortality of rhinos has been territorial fights due to limited space in sanctuaries which has also led to suppressed growth rates due,” explained Dr. Erustus Kanga, the Director General of Kenya Wildlife Service. “I am elated to be associated with this momentous effort to secure more space for this cornerstone species.”

Meanwhile, southern white rhinos continue to thrive in Kenya, having increased from 50 individuals that were imported from South Africa in the eighties and nineties to reach the current population of 971 individuals.

Kenya is also playing a critical role in efforts to save the northern white rhino from extinction, as it is host to the only remaining two females of the species left in the world. The international BioRescue project has developed thirty embryos awaiting implantation into surrogate females within the closely-related subspecies of southern white rhino.

“The return of black rhinos to Loisaba, 50 years after the last known individual here was killed by poachers in the 1970s, is a demonstration of how impactful partnerships between governments and conservation NGOs can be for restoring, managing, and protecting our natural world,” said Dr. Max Graham, CEO and Founder of Space for Giants, one of the project partners.

“And, of course, the return of black rhinos here gives all of us one of the most precious commodities of all: hope.”

-via Good News Network, February 25, 2024

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Twinkump Linkdump

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in SAN DIEGO at MYSTERIOUS GALAXY next MONDAY (Mar 24), and in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on Apr 2. More tour dates here.

I have an excellent excuse for this week's linkdump: I'm in Germany, but I'm supposed to be in LA, and I'm not, because London Heathrow shut down due to a power-station fire, which meant I spent all day yesterday running around like a headless chicken, trying to get home in time for my gig in San Diego on Monday (don't worry, I sorted it):

https://www.mystgalaxy.com/32425Doctorow

Therefore, this is 30th linkdump, in which I collect the assorted links that didn't make it into this week's newsletters. Here are the other 29:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

I always like to start and end these 'dumps with some good news, which isn't easy in these absolutely terrifying times. But there is some good news: Wil Wheaton has announced his new podcast, a successor of sorts to the LeVar Burton Reads podcast. It's called "It's Storytime" and it features Wil reading his favorite stories handpicked from science fiction magazines, including On Spec, the magazine that bought my very first published story (I was 16, it ran in their special youth issue, it wasn't very good, but boy did it mean a lot to me):

https://wilwheaton.net/podcast/

Here's some more good news: a court has found (again!) that works created by AI are not eligible for copyright. This is the very best possible outcome for people worried about creators' rights in the age of AI, because if our bosses can't copyright the botshit that comes out of the "AI" systems trained on our work, then they will pay us:

https://www.yahoo.com/news/us-appeals-court-rejects-copyrights-171203999.html

Our bosses hate paying us, but they hate the idea of not being able to stop people from copying their entertainment products so! much! more! It's that simple:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/

This outcome is so much better than the idea that AI training isn't fair use – an idea that threatens the existence of search engines, archiving, computational linguistics, and other clearly beneficial activities. Worse than that, though: if we create a new copyright that allows creators to prevent others from scraping and analyzing their works, our bosses will immediately alter their non-negotiable boilerplate contracts to demand that we assign them this right. That will allow them to warehouse huge troves of copyrighted material that they will sell to AI companies who will train models designed to put us on the breadline (see above, re: our bosses hate paying us):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/13/hey-look-over-there/#lets-you-and-he-fight

The rights of archivists grow more urgent by the day, as the Trump regime lays waste to billions of dollars worth of government materials that were produced at public expense, deleting decades of scientific, scholarly, historical and technical materials. This is the kind of thing you might expect the National Archive or the Library of Congress to take care of, but they're being chucked into the meat-grinder as well.

To make things even worse, Trump and Musk have laid waste to the Institute of Museum and Library Services, a tiny, vital agency that provides funding to libraries, archives and museums across the country. Evan Robb writes about all the ways the IMLS supports the public in his state of Washington:

Technology support. Last-mile broadband connection, network support, hardware, etc. Assistance with the confusing e-rate program for reduced Internet pricing for libraries.

Coordinated group purchase of e-books, e-audiobooks, scholarly research databases, etc.

Library services for the blind and print-disabled.

Libraries in state prisons, juvenile detention centers, and psychiatric institutions.

Digitization of, and access to, historical resources (e.g., newspapers, government records, documents, photos, film, audio, etc.).

Literacy programming and support for youth services at libraries.

The entire IMLS budget over the next 10 years rounds to zero when compared to the US federal budget – and yet, by gutting it, DOGE is amputating significant parts of the country's systems that promote literacy; critical thinking; and universal access to networks, media and ideas. Put it that way, and it's not hard to see why they hate it so.

Trying to figure out what Trump is up to is (deliberately) confusing, because Trump and Musk are pursuing a chaotic agenda that is designed to keep their foes off-balance:

https://www.wired.com/story/elon-musk-donald-trump-chaos/

But as Hamilton Nolan writes, there's a way to cut through the chaos and make sense of it all. The problem is that there are a handful of billionaires who have so much money that when they choose chaos, we all have to live with it:

The significant thing about the way that Elon Musk is presently dismantling our government is not the existence of his own political delusions, or his own self-interested quest to privatize public functions, or his own misreading of economics; it is the fact that he is able to do it. And he is able to do it because he has several hundred billion dollars. If he did not have several hundred billion dollars he would just be another idiot with bad opinions. Because he has several hundred billion dollars his bad opinions are now our collective lived experience.

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-underlying-problem

We actually have a body of law designed to prevent this from happening. It's called "antitrust" and 40 years ago, Jimmy Carter decided to follow the advice of some of history's dumbest economists who said that fighting monopolies made the economy "inefficient." Every president since, up to – but not including – Biden, did even more to encourage monopolization and the immense riches it creates for a tiny number of greedy bastards.

But Biden changed that. Thanks to the "Unity Taskforce" that divided up the presidential appointments between the Democrats' corporate wing and the Warren/Sanders wing, Biden appointed some of the most committed, effective trustbusters we'd seen for generations:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

After Trump's election, there was some room for hope that Trump's FTC would continue to pursue at least some of the anti-monopoly work of the Biden years. After all, there's a sizable faction within the MAGA movement that hates (some) monopolies:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/24/enforcement-priorities/#enemies-lists

But last week, Trump claimed to have illegally fired the two Democratic commissioners on the FTC: Alvaro Bedoya and Rebecca Slaughter. I stan both of these commissioners, hard. When they were at the height of their powers in the Biden years, I had the incredible, disorienting experience of getting out of bed, checking the headlines, and feeling very good about what the government had just done.

Trump isn't legally allowed to fire Bedoya and Slaughter. Perhaps he's just picking this fight as part of his chaos agenda (see above). But there are some other pretty good theories about what this is setting up. In his BIG newsletter, Matt Stoller proposes that Trump is using this case as a wedge, trying to set a precedent that would let him fire Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/why-trump-tried-to-fire-federal-trade

But perhaps there's more to it. Stoller just had Commissioner Bedoya on Organized Money, the podcast he co-hosts with David Dayen, and Bedoya pointed out that if Trump can fire Democratic commissioners, he can also fire Republican commissioners. That means that if he cuts a shady deal with, say, Jeff Bezos, he can order the FTC to drop its case against Amazon and fire the Republicans on the commission if they don't frog when he jumps:

https://www.organizedmoney.fm/p/trumps-showdown-at-the-ftc-with-commissioner

(By the way, Organized Money is a fantastic podcast, notwithstanding the fact that they put me on the show last week:)

https://audio.buzzsprout.com/6f5ly01qcx6ijokbvoamr794ht81

The future that our plutocrat overlords are grasping for is indeed a terrible one. You can see its shape in the fantasies of "liberatarian exit" – the seasteads, free states, and other assorted attempts to build anarcho-capitalist lawless lands where you can sell yourself into slavery, or just sell your kidneys. The best nonfiction book on libertarian exit is Raymond Criab's 2022 "Adventure Capitalism," a brilliant, darkly hilarious and chilling history of every time a group of people have tried to found a nation based on elevating selfishness to a virtue:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/14/this-way-to-the-egress/#terra-nullius

If Craib's book is the best nonfiction volume on the subject of libertarian exit, then Naomi Kritzer's super 2023 novel Liberty's Daughter is the best novel about life in a libertopia – a young adult novel about a girl growing up in the hell that would be life with a Heinlein-type dad:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/21/podkaynes-dad-was-a-dick/#age-of-consent

But now this canon has a third volume, a piece of design fiction from Atelier Van Lieshout called "Slave City," which specs out an arcology populated with 200,000 inhabitants whose "very rational, efficient and profitable" arrangements produce €7b/year in profit:

https://www.archdaily.com/30114/slave-city-atelier-van-lieshout

This economic miracle is created by the residents' "voluntary" opt-in to a day consisting of 7h in an office, 7h toiling in the fields, 7h of sleep, and 3h for "leisure" (e.g. hanging out at "The Mall," a 24/7, 26-storey " boundless consumer paradise"). Slaves who wish to better themselves can attend either Female Slave University or Male Slave University (no gender controversy in Slave City!), which run 24/7, with 7 hours of study, 7 hours of upkeep and maintenance on the facility, 7h of sleep, and, of course, 3h of "leisure."

The field of design fiction is a weird and fertile one. In his traditional closing keynote for this year's SXSW Interactive festival, Bruce Sterling opens with a little potted history of the field since it was coined by Julian Bleeker:

https://bruces.medium.com/how-to-rebuild-an-imaginary-future-2025-0b14e511e7b6

Then Bruce moves on to his own latest design fiction project, an automated poetry machine called the Versificatore first described by Primo Levi in an odd piece of science fiction written for a newspaper. The Versificatore was then adapted to the screen in 1971, for an episode of an Italian sf TV show based on Levi's fiction:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tva-D_8b8-E

And now Sterling has built a Versificatore. The keynote is a sterlingian delight – as all of his SXSW closers are. It's a hymn to the value of "imaginary futures" and an instruction manual for recovering them. It could not be more timely.

Sterling's imaginary futures would be a good upbeat note to end this 'dump with, but I've got a real future that's just as inspiring to close us out with: the EU has found Apple guilty of monopolizing the interfaces to its devices and have ordered the company to open them up for interoperability, so that other manufacturers – European manufacturers! – can make fully interoperable gadgets that are first-class citizens of Apple's "ecosystem":

https://www.reuters.com/technology/apple-ordered-by-eu-antitrust-regulators-open-up-rivals-2025-03-19/

It's a good reminder that as America crumbles, there are still places left in the world with competent governments that want to help the people they represent thrive and prosper. As the Prophet Gibson tells us, "the future is here, it's just not evenly distributed." Let's hope that the EU is living in America's future, and not the other way around.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/22/omnium-gatherum/#storytime

Image: TDelCoro https://www.flickr.com/photos/tomasdelcoro/48116604516/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[usafphantom2]

[Updated] EA-18G Growler Crashes In San Diego Bay

A U.S. Navy EA-18G Growler crashed in San Diego Bay. According to the first reports, the crew members ejected safely.

David Cenciotti

EA-18G crash

Reports have started circulating online of a U.S. Navy aircraft crashing in the San Diego Bay around 10.00 AM LT on Feb. 12, 2025. The aircraft reportedly went down in the water water off Point Loma coast in San Diego, California.

A U.S. Navy spokesperson told ABC 10News that the aircraft involved was an EA-18G Growler. The spokesperson also confirmed that the aircrew ejected, and the U.S. Coast Guard successfully rescued them.

An ABC 10News team happened to be nearby covering a different story when they witnessed the immediate aftermath of the crash.

Naval Air Station North Island is located just east of where the news crew was positioned during the incident.

The San Diego Fire-Rescue Department initially responded but was later called off as federal emergency teams, including the U.S. Navy, Coast Guard, and Harbor Police, handled the rescue and pulled the pilots from the water.

Both pilots were transported to UC San Diego Health, according to SDFD. An ABC 10News reporter saw the pilots being brought into the hospital. Harbor Police are currently maintaining a perimeter around the crash site.

While the full extent of the pilots’ injuries is not yet known, they were reported to be in stable condition.

According to some reports, the aircraft declared an emergency before the accident. Bad weather/poor visibility is reported in the crash area.

Our friend Rick Kane (@paintingsurfer) shared some incredible shots of the mishap.

The EA-18G about to crash. Note the missing ejection seats. (Image credit: Rick Kane @paintingsurfer)

The aircraft has just crashed into the water in this shot (Image credit: Rick Kane @paintingsurfer)

The chutes of the two crew members. (Image credit: Rick Kane @paintingsurfer)

A video shared on X shows the EA-18G diving at fast speed towards the surface of sea.

Here’s another video providing a better look at the impact.

Video of the impact via Instagram. pic.twitter.com/iP9C04cAT3

— mr. ice (@Flammenwerfer89) February 12, 2025

The Growler may have been one of those involved in Exercise Bamboo Eagle 25-1, a multinational exercise launched by the U.S. Air Force Warfare Center and aimed at enhancing cooperation, agility, and combat readiness. This year’s iteration brings together the U.S. Air Force, Royal Air Force, Royal Australian Air Force, and, for the first time, the Royal Canadian Air Force. Focused on Agile Combat Employment, the exercise prepares forces to rapidly adapt, relocate, and sustain operations across dispersed locations, even under contested conditions. According to Maj. Gen. Christopher Niemi, this training strengthens allied capabilities to face emerging threats as a cohesive unit.

The EA-18G Growler is the Electronic Warfare/Attack variant of the two-seat F/A-18F Super Hornet that replaced the EA-6B Prowlers in U.S. Navy service. The aircraft is operated by the VAQ-129 Vikings; VAQ-130 Zappers; VAQ-131 Lancers; VAQ-132 Scorpions; VAQ-133 Wizards; VAQ-134 Garudas; VAQ-135 Black Ravens; VAQ-136 Gauntlets; VAQ-137 Rooks; VAQ-138 Yellowjackets; VAQ-139 Cougars; VAQ-140 Patriots; VAQ-141 Shadowhawks; VAQ-142 Gray Wolves; VAQ-143 Cobras and VAQ-144 Main Battery.

The one involved in the crash should be EA-18G 166855 assigned to the VAQ-135 Black Ravens.

Today’s crash of a Growler in San Diego Bay brings to mind the tragic incident last October, when an EA-18G Growler went down near Mount Rainier, claiming the lives of two naval aviators. In fact, an EA-18G Growler Electronic Attack assigned to the Electronic Attack Squadron 130 (VAQ-130) “Zappers” crashed near Mount Rainier, Washington, on Oct. 15, 2024 at 3:23 p.m. local time. The aircraft wreckage was located in the mountainous region by search teams on Wednesday, October 16. The fate of the two naval aviators aboard the Growler at the time of the crash remained unknown until Oct. 21, 2024, when the U.S. Navy identified them as Lt. Cmdr. Lyndsay “Miley” Evans and Lt. Serena “Dug” Wileman.

For more details on the previous crash, check out The Aviationist‘s report here.

This is a developing story. We will update the story as more details are disclosed.

@TheAviationist.com

[bullet-prooflove]

Syria!Series Part One: Syria: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @chickensrule @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @justameresimp @handsupforamiracle @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @littlebadariell @imaginecrushes @luckyladycreator2 @flrboyd @nani-kenobi @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @crimeshowjunkie @shepgurl @ashcosmo @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @dizzybee03 @watashiwasun @burningpeachpuppy @penguin876 @haley-hotchner @deliriousfangirl61 @agentorange9595

You’ve been married to Beau three years when he’s deployed to Syria. You’re situated in San Diego, working with the Victim’s Support Service. The two of you have talked about settling down here, you both love the area and Beau’s up for promotion soon which will give him more stability and better choice of assignments. It feels like the right time to put down roots.

The first indication you get that something is wrong is when Commander Larson steps into your office. You’re too enthralled in the casefile you’re reading to register his presence until you hear the door click shut behind him.

It’s the expression in his face that stops you in your tracks. You’ve seen Commander Larson deliver bad news a handful of times throughout your career and he has the exact same look in his eyes now.

“Beau’s been captured.” He tells you.

You don’t hear anything else after that, just the roaring of blood in your ears as selective words filter through. You learn that it had happened during a navy training exercise, that a Syrian officer he had been working with was also taken.  

You fall apart, for two whole days you’re a complete mess because the love of your life is missing and there’s fuck all you can do about it.

It’s Soloman that calls you from a military hospital in Damascus, that tells you the unofficial story. Three hours ago Beau had turned up at a military checkpoint gravely injured, dragging Captain Zadir Abadi, along with him. The two of them had been barely alive when they’d been airlifted.

“It’s bad Ally, they tortured him.” Soloman tells you, you can see the gravity of the situation in his features as he rubs his palm over his weary features. “He’s been stabbed multiple times, they’re not sure he’s going to make it through the night.”

You go to church that evening, for the first time since you left Idaho. You light a candle, and you say a prayer because there’s nothing else that you can do and the reality of that devastates you. You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, instead you lie on the couch with a pillow clasped to your chest watching reruns of Friends and waiting for your phone to ring.

Solomon calls again in the afternoon; he looks as exhausted as you feel. His jaw line is peppered with five o’clock shadow and his eyes bloodshot.

“They’ve taken him back into surgery.” He tells you, shaking his head. “He started bleeding again this morning, if they can’t get it under control…”

He looks away from the screen, swallowing hard before he opens his mouth to speak.

“Zahir passed away this morning.” Solomon tells you. “His injuries were too great, infection set in. There was nothing the doctors could do.”

You close your eyes for a second, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth because you hear the undercurrent of what he’s saying.

Prepare yourself.

You don’t sleep again that night.

***

Beau survives the surgery. He spends days drifting in and out of consciousness, in a haze of agony and numbness. The painkillers they give him are strong, they mess with his head, twisting his dreams and reality into one long nightmare.

The only consistent thought he has is you. He wants you; he thinks he tells Solomon that when he’s semi lucid. The next time he’s awake Solomon hands him his tablet and there you are on the screen, looking as pretty as the day he met you.

“Ally,” He drawls as he settles back into the pillows.

It’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you since this whole ordeal started and he feels so fucking relieved to see you. You were the only thing he thought about during his time in that bunker, the thing that kept him going. Everytime they cut into his flesh, stabbed him, humiliated him, he thought about you, that smile, that laugh, the way you look at him like he was the only man in the entire world.

“Beau.” You whisper and he smiles, tears searing at his eyes because just hearing the sound of your voice soothes something deep inside his soul.

“Talk to me.” He requests, his head coming to rest against the pillows. “I just need to hear your voice.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[californiastatelibrary]

🔹 Webinar: Strengthening Communities—Libraries & Emergency Preparedness 🔹

How can libraries play a proactive role in community resilience? This free webinar will explore innovative partnerships and strategies for emergency preparedness. Hear from experts in San Diego County who have successfully implemented training and response efforts in collaboration with emergency services.

📅 Date: March 27, 2025 ⏰ Time: 10:00 AM – 11:00 AM (PT) 💻 Virtual Event

Speakers:

✅ Cecilia Salgado – Adult Services Manager, San Diego County Library ✅ Cristin McVey – Branch Manager/Librarian II, San Diego County Library, Borrego Springs ✅ Nicholas Thomlison – Senior Emergency Services Coordinator, Office of Emergency Services, County of San Diego ✅ Teresa Greenhalgh – Community Emergency Response Team Coordinator, San Diego County Fire Protection District

Whether you're looking to build partnerships, launch preparedness initiatives, or enhance your library’s role in crisis response, this webinar offers valuable insights.

🔗 Register here: https://events.callacademy.org/event/strengthening-communities-libraries-innovative-strategies-emergency-preparedness-9445

[saintmeghanmarkle]

I know for a fact William and Harry definitely went to Disneyland (as well as Disneyworld). by u/Larushka

I know for a fact William and Harry definitely went to Disneyland (as well as Disneyworld). I used to live in Orange County, which lies between LA County and San Diego County. My best friend lived in Costa Mesa, close to the Ocean. It was pretty well known among homeowner neighbors that the Queen Mother owned a house there, very close to my friend. It was surrounded by tall trees with cameras and always had men in black cars outside. My husband used to use an elite transportation service. They only hired ex-military with security training. One day l used this transport to take me to LAX (airport). Hearing my British accent, the driver told me a story. He had a pickup from the Queen Mother’s house. He referred to it as such. It was William and Harry, one security guy. They were young teens. He gave a lot of details. They went to Disneyland. He said they both wore baseball caps and were mostly unrecognized when they were there. They didn’t have special treatment and he said they loved going around like normal kids. He told me enough stories/facts about the day, that l knew what he was saying was true. It was never in the Press as they weren’t papped. Just thought it was pretty cool. post link: https://ift.tt/8AN1eik author: Larushka submitted: June 07, 2025 at 07:56PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[lboogie1906]

Private First Class Ralph Henry Johnson (January 11, 1949 – March 5, 1968) was a Marine who posthumously received the Medal of Honor for heroism during the Vietnam War.

He was born in Charleston, South Carolina. He enlisted in the Marine Corps Reserve and was discharged to enlist in the regular Marine Corps on July 2, 1967.

Upon completion of recruit training with the 1st Recruit Training Battalion, Recruit Training Regiment, MCRD San Diego in September 1967, he was transferred to Camp Pendleton. He underwent individual combat training with Company Y, 3rd Battalion, 2nd Infantry Regiment, and basic infantry training with the Basic Infantry Training Company, 2nd Infantry Training Regiment in November 1967. He was promoted to private first class on November 1, 1967.

In January 1968, he arrived in the Republic of Vietnam and served as a reconnaissance scout with Company A, 1st Reconnaissance Battalion, 1st Marine Division.

On March 5, 1968, while on Operation Rock, a four-day operation by the 3rd Battalion 7th Marines in the “Arizona Territory” northwest of An Hoa Combat Base, his 15-man reconnaissance patrol was attacked by enemy forces on Hill 146 in the Quan Duc Duc Valley. When a hand grenade landed in the fighting hole he shared with fellow Marines, he yelled a warning and hurled his body over the explosive charge. Absorbing the full impact of the blast, he was killed.

A complete list of his medals and decorations includes the Medal of Honor, the Purple Heart, the National Defense Service Medal, the Vietnam Service Medal with two bronze stars, the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry with Palm, the Vietnamese Military Merit Medal, and the Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal.

The Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center in Charleston, formerly the Charleston VA Medical Center, was renamed in honor of him. His Medal of Honor, along with his Medal of Honor citation and a portrait of him, is framed and on public display at the Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center.

The Navy announced that a new Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer would be named USS Ralph Johnson.

His name is inscribed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (June 25-July 8, 2023)

I picked a bad time to skip a week lol

Ultraman Blazar, the 35th entry in the Ultra Series, has made the scene. Episode 1 throws us right into a battle between humanity and a space monster. Blazar's the pushy type, all but forcing Gento to transform, but he doesn't speak Japanese—just yowls. For now, that makes him the show's central mystery. The show's defense team, SKaRD, won't actually form until the next episode, at which point we should have a better sense of it. But I'm intrigued so far.

Free streaming TV service Pluto TV has added a Godzilla channel. It boasts, or should soon boast, all of the Japanese Godzilla films minus King Kong vs. Godzilla and Shin Godzilla, plus Rodan, all the Mothra movies, The War of the Gargantuas, Godzilla (1998), and Godzilla: The Series. A Blu-ray.com user has composed a detailed rundown of the versions of the films used—short version, nothing we haven't seen before apart from a few small changes.

I got to see Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken before its official June 30 release date thanks to Regal's Monday Mystery Movie series. I guess I didn't retain much memory of the trailer, because it surprised me how early in the film the title character first grew into a kaiju. I can't give it an especially enthusiastic recommendation—comparisons to Luca and Turning Red are inevitable and don't flatter Ruby at all. But I get a kick out of seeing kaiju in such alien territory as a hyperactive animated kids' movie, and they continue to show off their flexibility as metaphors (Ruby is plainly neurodivergent). 7 outta 10.

Nimona dropped on Netflix the same day, and that's one anyone reading this column should sprint to watch. It saves its kaiju for the third act, and I've held off on posting much about that part of the story yet, but trust me, Ishiro Honda would be proud.

After years of lackluster Gorgo home video releases, Vinegar Syndrome seems poised to finally do it right in 4K Ultra HD. (If you're like me and don't have a way to watch such discs yet, don't worry, it comes with a Blu-ray.) New scan, new audio commentary, special features both new and old, and a killer cover. For those unfamiliar with the company, note that this release is "only available on [the Vinegar Syndrome] website and at select indie retailers. Absolutely no major retailers will be stocking them."

Every episode of Chibi Godzilla Raids Again is now subtitled, a fine excuse to get acquainted with one of the Reiwa era's biggest surprises. No stakes, no budget, just a bunch of Toho's biggest stars acting like a bunch of fools.

There's always more Godzilla toy news than this column can hope to cover, but a few highlights:

Bandai's ever-expanding Movie Monster Series will release Gamera 1965, Gyaos 1967, and Battra larva later this month. The defunct Daiei Kaiju Series last offered a Showa Gamera in 2006, and never covered any of his foes from that era; here's hoping Gyaos is the first of many.

Hiya Toys now has the license to produce figures from the Toho Godzilla films, not just the Monsterverse.

Super7 will be selling ReAction figures of Godzilla chomping some helpless people on a subway train at San Diego Comic Con. They just get it (and hopefully the many of us who aren't going will have some way of getting it that doesn't involve scalpers).

The new unit in Godzilla Battle Line is Monster X/Keizer Ghidorah. The former evolves into the latter after his first death. Keizer is a heavy hitter with a twist: he regains 20% of his health with every defeated foe. Great against swarms, but you don't see too many of those these days.

Believe it or not (many are still in denial), but Pacific Rim turns 10 on Wednesday. Thankfully, per this Tweet from director Guillermo del Toro, the effective start of the Kaiju Renaissance (and one of my all-time favorite films) won't go unrecognized on its first big anniversary. I'm guessing a cast reunion?

More translations from Noah Oskow await on Toho Kingdom, these a collection of synopses of early versions of Godzilla vs. Mothra, Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla II, and Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla from the Toho DVDs. Much of this has been translated in greater detail already, but the later drafts are interesting.

[mitchipedia]

Keep San Diego County Blue. Vote for Democrat Paloma Aguirre in the April District 1 Special Election

It’s scary to be an American right now as Donald Trump and Elon Musk run amok in Washington. But we here in San Diego can be a little less scared than our friends and family elsewhere in the country because we live in a Blue county in a powerful Blue state.

But San Diego could become scarier if the Republican candidate wins the April special election to fill a vacant seat on the San Diego Board of Supervisors. If the Republican candidate wins that seat, the Republican Party will control the county board of supervisors, bringing a MAGA regime to San Diego. To prevent this, we must do two things: 1) Turn out the Democratic vote, and 2) vote only for Imperial Beach Mayor Paloma Aguirre, the endorsed candidate of the San Diego Democratic Party, despite more than one Democrat being running in the election. Otherwise, we split our vote and risk a Republican taking the seat in the Primary. If that happens, we will have a MAGA County Board of Supervisors.

If you live in District 1, please vote for Aguirre. And if you don’t live in District 1, please talk to friends and family there and encourage them to vote for Aguirre.

Act fast ��� the election ends Tuesday, April 8, in five days!

The county board of supervisors has a broad scope of authority: It manages a significant budget for services and programs, disperses federal funds, manages social welfare programs such as CalFresh, Medi-Cal and the foster care system, and it oversees local government and law enforcement for unincorporated areas of the county.

Aguirre will make a great supervisor. As mayor of Imperial Beach, she has an impressive array of accomplishments. She has been a champion in the fight to clean up the South County sewage crisis, securing $600 million in federal funding. She has helped make life more affordable by lowering utility rates and adding moderately priced homes. She achieved gains in public safety and disaster response, fighting homelessness, and overall quality of life for all San Diegans — not just the rich. And, of course, she has worked to protect our values — Aguirre is pro-choice; she favors keeping local law enforcement focused on fighting crime, not doing the federal government’s job on immigration enforcement; and she opposes federal cuts to Medicare, Medicaid, elder care and Social Security.

There are other excellent Democrats in this race. But Aguirre is the San Diego Democratic Party’s endorsed candidate, and we all must get behind one candidate to help her achieve more than 50% of the votes in this special election.

If the Republicans win the board, we can expect to see cuts to social services, including homeless aid and mental health benefits. Republicans will enact economic policies that help the rich and hurt the middle class and poor.

We’re already seeing Republicans doing damage in San Diego. As County Supervisor Terra Lawson-Remer points out in a recent newsletter, extreme federal service reductions aren’t a distant Washington fight; they will directly impact all of us in San Diego, cutting healthcare, housing, and homelessness benefits and increasing the cost of living.

“Slashes to healthcare?” Lawson Remer writes. “It means bigger crowds and longer waits the next time you’re in the emergency room.”

She adds, “Elimination of federally funded housing vouchers? It means local homelessness will increase as more of our neighbors won’t be able to make rent in high-cost San Diego.

“Cuts to Medicaid? It means fewer beds in the County for unhoused people having a mental health or substance abuse crisis on the streets.

“Reductions in the national food assistance program known as SNAP? It means kids in our community who we see every day — children of our friends, neighbors and coworkers — will have less to eat.”

50,000 people could lose access to job training and financial assistance, 400,000 San Diegans may no longer receive food assistance, and nearly 900,000 residents could lose Medi-Cal healthcare coverage, Lawson-Remer writes.

A Republican majority on the San Diego Board of Supervisors would make the damage we’re seeing from Republican policies much worse.

In contrast, Aguirre will help make the county better for everyone, not just the rich. It’s that simple. We need to restore the Democratic majority to the board. If you live in District 1, please get out and vote for Paloma Aguirre. And if you live outside the district, get your friends and family in District 1 to vote for the endorsed Democratic candidate, Paloma Aguirre.

The district includes Chula Vista, Imperial Beach, National City, and some communities in the City of San Diego, including Barrio Logan, East Village and Golden Hill. It also includes the unincorporated areas of Bonita, East Otay Mesa, Lincoln Acres, Sunnyside and La Presa.

Eligible District 1 voters have already received ballots in the mail; they must be returned no later than Tuesday, April 8. You can mail the ballot in through April 8, drop the ballot in one of 29 official ballot boxes throughout the district, or vote in person starting Saturday, March 29. Find locations of drop-off boxes, in-person voting locations, and more information on SanDiego.gov and more background on the election on the KPBS Voter Hub.

A version of this article appeared in the April edition of the Progressive Voice, the newsletter for the La Mesa-Foothills Democratic Club. I’m a board member at large for the club.

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by Ben Cohen

A member of San Diego’s Human Relations Commission was forced to step down this week following a furious response to antisemitic comments he proffered at a meeting of the body on July 18, in which he claimed that the Torah instructs Jews to murder Palestinians.

The resignation of the commissioner, Khaliq Raufi, was announced on Wednesday by San Diego County Supervisor Joel Anderson in a scathing statement.

“Commissioner Raufi’s ignorant comments were hurtful and in no way reflect my personal views, but they do highlight the urgent need to focus on education, bridge building, and to advocate for tolerance,” said Anderson, who appointed Raufi to the 31 member commission. “After meeting with Commissioner Raufi, I have received his resignation letter.”

The city’s Human Relations Commission — which answers to the San Diego County Board of Supervisors, the county’s legislative branch — was established in May 2020 to “promote positive human relations, respect, and the integrity of every individual regardless of gender, religion, culture, ethnicity, sexual orientation, age, or citizenship status.”

At the July 18 meeting, which was recorded, Raufi told those in attendance that he had read a few verses of the Book of Deuteronomy — the fifth and final book of the Torah — calling it the “Book of Jews.”

“It states, ‘go kill Palestinians — wipe them all out,'” Raufi claimed. “It’s a teaching that they, on a daily basis, teach their followers in their synagogues. So how are we gonna resolve that?”

At this juncture, Raufi was interrupted by an observer, Sara Brown, the San Diego regional director of the American Jewish Committee (AJC), who pointedly asked him, “are you serious right now?”

Brown later expressed her shock that only one of the assembled commissioners — Kate Clark, who works for Jewish Family Services — took Raufi to task for his remarks. “It was so unbelievably shocking in the moment — and even more shocking was the silence of every single commissioner and county staff,” she told the San Diego Union-Tribune.

An editorial in the same outlet quoted San Diego’s Mayor Todd Gloria’s statement that “hate has no place in San Diego and there will be consequences for those who spread it in our city.” It went on to argue: “The county Human Relations Commission, which needs better vetting and training, must take that to heart. Otherwise, what’s the point of it?”

Raufi delivered his speech during a debate concerning a controversy at the commission the previous month, in which another commissioner — George Khoury, a supporter of the Arab-American Anti-Discrimination Committee (ADC) — denounced Israel as a “racist, fascist state” as he described how his Palestinian family fled from Jerusalem during the 1948 War of Independence.

In a June 20 letter to the commission following Khoury’s speech, local Jewish leaders noted: “Rather than speak about the importance of Arab American Heritage Month, an opportunity to further celebrate diversity in our San Diego community, Commissioner Khoury’s statement negated Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state, diminished the historical Jewish connection to the land, and depicted the creation of Israel as a war crime — language that goes beyond legitimate criticism of Israeli government policies.”