#Navy Seal Foundation

[dizzyhslightlyvoided]

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Did you know that world-renowned writer Stephen King once got hit by a car? Just something to consider. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Justice Sonia Sotomayor, along with the other two Democrat-appointed justices, powerfully said in the dissenting opinion: the Supreme Court has made “a mockery of the principle, foundational to our Constitution and system of Government, that no man is above the law.”

"When [a president] uses his official powers in any way, under the majority's reasoning, he now will be insulated from criminal prosecution. Orders the Navy's Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune,... In every use of official power, the president is now a king above the law," wrote Justice Sotomayor.

This corrupt, extreme far-right Supreme Court has just opened the gates and paved the road for a fascist America. It means politicians, judges, their families, etc., will be in fear if they speak out against the president, or don't do what he wants, they could be arrested or killed. If you protest, you and your family could be imprisoned or shot.

When the Executive branch of government has the power to threaten members of the Legislative and Judicial branches, all "checks and balances" preventing the abuse of power have been destroyed.

Why isn't anyone losing their minds that Biden could now become a dictator or order assassinations? Because everyone knows he is a decent man who would never do such a thing.

However, if Donald Trump wins this election, there is literally nothing to stop him from fulfilling his heart's desire and becoming America's first dictator. He, and any future president, can now, legally, stage a military coup and hold on to power for life and his vice president would be the next to reign for the rest of their life. No more real elections.

Now, more than ever, Donald Trump is a clear and present danger to America.

In this election, not voting, is a dangerous choice.

[mqverick]

scummy man || ✮⋆˙ .

“Cause he’s a scumbag, don’t you know?

I said he’s a scumbag, don’t you know?”

────────── ★ ───────────

The moment Daniel Kaffee walked into your office with his stupid apple and his stupid, childish ‘hi’, you knew you were fucked from top to bottom. Of course, they hadn’t taken you seriously when you petitioned Division to have counsel assigned. They brought you the first idiot they came across.

You’d written a seventeen page memo to Bronsky outlining the situation, you’d pleaded your case for a half hour in his living room on a Sunday afternoon, and Division assigned a Lt. Junior Grade? They had too be kidding (or hate you).

You’d managed to scare him, at least, and that you were proud of. He seemed like the type, who was particularly full of himself, which was proven as quite the right accusation, after a few minutes of speaking with him. He was just a bunch of royal bullshit, you’d decided — fucking wanted him off the case, even though he hadn’t even started yet.

He was never going to take it seriously, judging on how loose and cool he acted. For crying out loud, Dawson and Downey were at his sake, while Daniel could not care less about them, opting to practice baseball instead, because he claimed he had a critical game coming. Was that guy serious?

“Lieutenant, would you feel very insulted if I recommended to your supervisor that he assign different counsel?” you threatened, face burning as you struggled to contain your anger at his complete indifference to the situation.

“Why would you do that?”

He had the nerve to ask. “You’re not fit to handle the defense. One second more with you and the marines will have sealed their poor fate.”

Daniel nodded, unimpressed with your tone.

“You don’t even know me. Ordinarily, it takes someone hours to discover I’m not fit to handle a defense. You’ve known me for less than ten minutes.” He walked away from you, as if your threat was a joke to him, like he didn’t believe you.

You stupidly stared at him, blood boiling as you wondered how impossibly scummy one could be.

“I do know you. Daniel Allistair Kaffee, born June 8th, 1964 at Boston Mercy Hospital. Your father's Lionel Kaffee, former Navy Judge Advocate and Attorney General, of the United States, died 1985. You went to Harvard Law on a Navy scholarship, probably because that’s what your father wanted you to do, and now you’re just treading water for the three years you’ve gotta serve in the JAG Corps, just kinda laying low til you can get out and get a real job. And if that’s the situation, that’s fine, I won’t tell anyone. But my feeling is that if this case is handled in the same fast-food, slick-ass, Persian Bazaar manner with which you seem to handle everything else, something’s gonna get missed. And I’d be damned if I allowed Dawson and Downey to spend any more time in prison than absolutely necessary, because their attorney had pre-determined the path of least resistance,” your monologue prevented you from taking a breath, confidently crossing your arms like you’d just won an argument, as Daniel took a quick sip from his Yoo-Hoo, staring intently at you. The sun was hitting his face and if you allowed it to yourself, you could’ve observed how stunningly green his eyes were.

“Wow,” he admired, very taken aback. “I’m sexually aroused, Commander. I may be picking the wrong time to ask you this, but are you seeing anyone right now? ‘Cause I think you and I would be perfect together. It’s clear that you respect me and that’s the foundation for any solid—”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You let out an angry exhale and grabbed him by the collar of his thin baseball shirt, pulling him towards you. He gasped in surprise, breath caught in his throat as you stabbed your finger into his chest as a warning.

“Listen there, Kaffee, I will have you removed from the case, so don’t go around being cute and unbothered. Mark my words, you just waisted your last chance with me.”

And with that, you threw him back to the bleachers, storming away in annoyance and over the top frustration. Never had another human being ever crawled up under your nerves so quickly, it had to be an astonishing world record.

When you walked into your office the next day just to find Daniel sitting on your chair already, you neared the dreadful experience of going into cardiac arrest. You silently wondered how he’d managed to sneak in, but decided to ignore him.

“You didn’t do it.”

His words were softly spoken, causing you to look at him, undoubtedly baffled. “I beg your pardon?”

“You didn’t do it,” he repeated with more emphasis, as if that would help you understand what he was referring to. “I thought you really wanted me out of the case, so I went to check, see if you talked to my supervisor. You didn’t.”

Oh, so he was talking about that. You played it off as something frankly unimportant, not even bothering to reply anything to him. If you turned your back around just for one second, you could’ve seen exactly how distressed he was.

Daniel got up from your chair, walking up behind you as he towered over you, hands unexpectedly nervous, seeing as they couldn’t stay still for a full minute on the waistline of his uniform trousers. You chuckled silently to yourself, nose scrunching in pride as you turned your back, looking dead into his eyes, your own ones fixed on the way his Adam’s apple moved in his neck as he gulped.

“Good job, Lieutenant. I see you took my words seriously for once. Need to keep into mind that you shit your pants way too easily, threats have you following every order you’ve been given.”

Daniel’s eyes were blown with disbelief of your manners, brows raised in offense. There was no doubt that you were prepared to make his life a living hell, had every intention to cause this case to be his first and last one, because the way it was going, he’d either rip apart his diploma or plain out kill himself. And who had the delightful opportunity to hear Daniel complain day and night? None other than Sam.

“She hates me, I don’t even know why,” he cried while pacing back and forth in his small living room, bat placed over his shoulders as he rested his hands on it, mind far away from the case. Sam sighed, sinking back into the couch. “She barely even knows me! I always do stuff wrong for her, she’s never satisfied. Little miss perfect,” he continued without a break, swinging the bat now as he ignored the board that stood in the middle of the place. Sam felt nauseous, having baring his unstoppable yapping for what felt like decades, even though it’d only been less than ten minutes.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his unlimited boredom and he got up to see who it was, ignoring the way Daniel kept going on and on. He looked over the eye on the door, almost letting out an audible groan at the fact that it was you who had knocked, meaning that your appearance would drive his friend even crazier.

“Come in,” he whispered lowly to you as he unlocked the door and let you in. You shrugged your jacket off your shoulders, noticing that Daniel hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that someone else had gotten into his house. “Damn, I’ve never seen him like this before. Normally he loses interest in a girl after a date or two…” he commented with a smirk, but you ignored him.

“You know, I wish she could’ve taken me out of the case, so that I wouldn’t have to see her face again,” Daniel admitted frustratedly, stopping dead in his tracks momentarily as he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, hitting his head as hard as possible with his bat didn’t seem like such a terrible idea. Oh, he was fucked to the core.

A smug, proud smile spread across your lips.

“Talking about me, Lieutenant Kaffee?” you rhetorically asked, crossing your arms and puffing your chest out arrogantly as you strode confidently across the room to get to him.

Daniel pretended to turn a deaf ear to your question, head strictly observing the case’s board as he gripped on the hand of his baseball bat. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him out of existence, his brain bleeding at the pure satisfaction he’d so universally given you by admitting the very phrase that you’d been accusing him of; dropping the case, because he couldn’t take the seriousness of it. And oh, well, because he couldn’t bare another second with you breathing down his neck and constantly criticizing him without even caring enough to get to know him — not as Daniel Kaffee, but Marine Lieutenant Kaffee. You had no idea of his potential, yet you still found it in you to look down at him, underestimate and humiliate him.

Sam incredulously just existed there, not taking any stance against either one of you. He’d been friends with Daniel since ages, which cast him to be very close to his way of thinking, and he knew for an undeniable fact that his friend was building up a brick wall of denial, hatred and irony just because he wouldn’t want to face the reality of the situation that pained his mind.

Daniel was captivated by you, Sam claimed.

He silently watched the way his eyes never left your face the entire time you spent in the small apartment, while working on the case, the split second that Daniel subconsciously let his jaw slightly hang open when you determinedly explained every detail of how to teach the marines how to act in the courtroom. Of course, Daniel was going through a matter of confusion.

You stood an obstacle to his limitless confidence and that wasn’t something he particularly wanted to experience every passing day, thus why he’d convinced himself that he hated you. But that was simply not true, at least according to Sam’s observations, which always proved to be right.

“I hate her,” he’d say all the time, but even the sound of his voice gave away the fact that he didn’t. How could he, anyway? Despite the hard time you were giving him, you actually worked by his side, boosting him even more. Come on — he was going to be in a courtroom — he’d never been in one before. All because of how stubborn you were with this case. Daniel loved it.

“Nobody likes her very much,” he’d said in Cuba, shouting his statement loudly enough for all the people in the convertible to hear despite the dizzying noise of shots and fighter planes. You’d rolled your eyes, opting not to give him the chance to stupidly smirk at himself for managing to piss you off (that was exactly his only goal).

───

Predictably enough, Daniel was laying down on his couch as a baseball game faintly played in the background, preventing him from concentrating. Truth be told, his mind was blank. He’d prepared himself mentally for what was coming; they’d lose the trial, make complete fools of themselves in front of an entire courtroom. His father was shaking his head disappointedly at him, Daniel knew it. He fiddled with his bat, glancing at the remnants of the two days old pizza he’d heated up in the microwave fifteen minutes ago, lazily thrown in a piece of kitchen paper, next to a half empty bottle of Yoo-hoo. His white uniform from earlier was thrown in a pile in a corner, like a piece of garbage he was itching to get out of his house.

A sudden buzz from his bell was heard, throwing him off as he jumped a little, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he went to the door, wondering who it could be at that time, since he wasn’t even expecting anyone. Or so he thought. The moment he opened the door, you stormed inside without even waiting for him to invite you in. Daniel stood speechless for one second, then shrugged it off, simply because it was you, and your ignorance of him was unquestionable. He looked shit, he realised; dressed in a dark gray T-shirt that had small oil stains on it because of the pizza, an abstract, unbuttoned red, brown and green colored shirt thrown over it.

“I’ve really missed you. It’s been almost three hours since I last saw—” he began sarcastically, but you cut him off abruptly, while placing a stack of papers onto the living room table.

“I can already tell that you forgot we had to meet up to discuss about the case by the way you’ve shamelessly displayed your gross dinner all over the files we need to present tomorrow. Good job, like always, Kaffee.”

Daniel didn’t bother to huff or give out any reaction, at that point, he knew that you were aware of the fact that you pushed his buttons just by breathing the same direction as him. He let his bat against the arm of the couch, taking a folder into his hands and pretending to examine it.

“Is Sam not coming?” he asked without raising his eyes to look at you.

“I don’t know, he’s your buddy. Aren’t you supposed to know better than me?”

You judged his choice of childish drink with a long, disgusting glare, then buried your face into the papers as well. Dawson and Downey relied upon the three of you deeply and if proving them not guilty meant you had to spend your Friday evening in Daniel Kaffee’s apartment, then so be it. It was a lot quieter than usual and the unfamiliar emptiness had you wondering. The baseball game was still on, distracting you from thinking clearly. “I think Kendrick ordered the Code Red. So do you,” you mumbled out of the blue, catching his attention in a second.

“You didn’t just come here to bother me?”

“You’re the worst lawyer I’ve ever met,” you spoke rudely, noticing Daniel’s face drop. “Why don’t you get the poor guys a new attorney, huh? You stand no chance anyway, you’re too afraid.”

“You still haven’t taken the time to get to know me, so I don’t think that you have any rights to go around telling me what to do, Commander,” the boldness of his tone matched yours as he sat on the couch, still denying the urge to look up at you, gauge your reaction to his words. He liked to ignore you, it gave him the impression that he had some sort of power over you that drove you as far mad as you did to him. Ignorance was kind.

“Think I’m going to change my mind about you the moment I hear your childhood sob story? They can all say you’re the best damn lawyer it’s ever been their pleasure to have as an attorney, and I still wouldn’t be convinced. But go on, though, I’ll humor you for tonight. Were daddy’s expectations really that high that they scare you off to do your job correctly?”

He pursed his lips, a slight furrow between his brows again as he stared pointedly at you. His heart crashed every time you went down the family path, not fully understanding how you’d figured him out so quickly and with less effort than even Jack put into his conversations with him. “Okay, then, if you really believe all that, get me replaced, I won’t stop you. Or did you already try that with no luck? Please, spare me the psycho-babble father bullshit, though, it’s your only argument and it’s getting tiring.”

“At least I have an argument.”

“Fucking congratulations! That’s just splendid!”

“Another lawyer won’t be good enough!” you accidentally admitted on your temper. Your eyes widened at the echo in the dead silence, that grew in the apartment, after what you’d just blurted out. Daniel’s eyes softened, filled with pure bewilderment, jaw going slack. His upper front teeth were visible as he stared at you stupidly enough to have your cheeks burning the brightest shade of red. You tried to find an excuse to reason yourself, but nothing could cover up the royal bullocks you’d thrown all over yourself.

He’d never let you live that moment down.

“You frighten me. I’m involved in a situation now, in which the stakes couldn’t be higher. I’m not going to take time out to give tutorials in criminal procedure to an internal affairs schoolgirl who doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing and still has the nerve to threaten my lead.”

“I just melt when you sugar-talk me, Danny.”Daniel felt a sudden rush of heat form in the back of his neck, traveling all the way up to his face at the sound of his nickname falling out of your lips. It wasn’t even a big deal — everyone called him Danny, yet the way it sounded in his ears when you uttered it out, it felt as though someone had turned up the dial on his internal embarrassment thermostat to maximum, and now he was sure he was ready to burst at any moment. The awkwardness of the moment had both of you completely mute, blankly finding random things in his house to interestingly stare at, as if they were suddenly very important. “Anyway, I think you know exactly how to win. They need you.”

A dumbstruck smile lightened up his face.

“You really think so?”

“Do you have something to drink?” you dodged the question, knowing that you’d revealed too much of your genuine feelings about him. Of course you admired him, how could you not?

“Yeah — Yeah! Something to drink, yes, just a second, let me see what’s in the fridge,” he exclaimed, inexplicably jumpy as he practically flew to the fridge. The corners of your lips turned upwards, enjoying the way he struggled to roam through the drinks and food, some things falling over in his attempt to search in the back. When he finally approached you, he was proudly holding a small bottle with a yellow Yoo-hoo tag on it.

You sighed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s chocolate milk, you’ll love it.”

What the hell, you thought, taking the drink from him as he handed it over to you with a warm smile. Your face was filled with disgust, almost hollering at the smell. When you let a few drops touch your lips, you coughed dramatically and shook your head in denial of what you’d just drank, placing the bottle back on the table.

“That’s the most foul thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Wait until you try my cooking. I usually save that card until the fourth or fifth date, though,” Daniel smirked, eyes gleaming under the bright yellow light of his living room. He looks so dumb, how is this man a navy lawyer? you questioned yourself.

“Explains why you’re single, then.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for someone.”

“Is it Jack Ross? ‘Cause I think he likes you back, you should totally make a move,” you teased him.

“Maybe said someone is annoying me as we talk.”

“Come on, Danny, can’t take a joke?”

He didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and twirled his bat on the ground, while pacing around the coffee table. “Can I ask you something personal?” he asked out of the blue, causing a pit of anxiety to form into your stomach.

“I suppose you’ll ask even if I refuse.”

“Look at you, you’re finally getting to know me.”

“Shoot, Kaffee.”

“What made you become a lawyer for the Navy?”

Your expression changed, now fully confused. You wondered how he’d possibly come up with that question all of sudden — was he doing some sort of research on you, get you exposed and out of his lead case so that you wouldn’t annoy him anymore with your constant complaining? Or was it more just Daniel being… well, Daniel and randomly coming up with the most out of context questions and things to discuss about?

“They wouldn’t let me fly the planes,” you simply gave and he tsk’ed with a dramatic head shake.

“Pegged you for the one that never gave up. You are becoming less of a role model on Junior Lieutenant Kaffee now, Commander. You’re like seven of the strangest women I’ve ever met.”

“That’s rich of you to say,” you added a little too quickly and loudly for your liking, hating how you were always so eager to defend yourself in situations that didn’t ask for it. “I’m the girl guys like you hated in sixth grade.”

Daniel’s eyes softened as he hesitantly took a seat next to you. “You’re wrong,” he muttered through his lips, looking down at his entwined fingers before exhaling exhaustively. “You’re the girl guys like me pulled the pigtails of at minor interactions just because they were too afraid of letting her know how they really felt about her.”

A pause. Silence built up in the room as Daniel kept looking down on his lap, eyes closed as if he was hoping for something, as if he was scared that the moment he’d open them, you’d be gone, because he’d screwed everything up again. But you were still there when he eventually decided to look over at you, staring blankly at him with no emotion whatsoever. He despised the fact that he couldn’t read you, hated the thought of not knowing exactly what went through your mind during that moment; it caused him too much anxiety, plus, with his little experience with girls, he’d never lived anything similar. They were all so chattery and urgent to fuck him that they didn’t hold anything back… and then, there was you.

You, who Daniel didn’t know how to feel about.

And suddenly, he couldn’t stand — bare — the fact that you’d been staring at him with so much to say, all that visible through your glassy eyes, and it was killing him, causing his stomach to flip, because he was ridiculously unaware about whether he did the right thing to reveal so much with that metaphor, or if he’d just ruined every aspect of professionalism between you.

“Kaffee?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice worn out, shaky as if he was about to break down right there in front of you. Your lack of response made his heart feel tight. “I’m not going to reassign Dawson and Downey to another lawyer, by the way. Neither will you ever be able to replace me, because I’m going to stick here.”

You instantly warmed up. For the first time, his confidence gave you that slight ounce of reassurance that you needed to get, put the colour back in your eyes as you grinned proudly at him, not caring about the so though Commander title you’d been given. “What made you change your mind?”

“Not you,” he replied, reciprocating the calmness and brightness of your face. “Just… don’t wear that perfume, it wrecks my concentration.”

“Really?” you asked in awe. Daniel just smiled. You noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he inhaled the courage to say something, then…

“This might be the wrong time to ask this, but would you really hate the idea of me taking y—”

“I am so sorry,” Sam interrupted, barging into Daniel’s apartment while panting, struggling to take his coat off as he put a hand over his chest. “I had to take care of my daughter, she got sick and my wife wasn’t home, I — Oh, I walked into something there, didn’t I?”

You think? Daniel mutely thought of saying to his friend, so mad inside as he glared at him with burning passion to slam the door shut into his face and returning to the conversation he was having with you less than twenty seconds ago.

“I need to go, anyway, I promised the Marines that I would visit them and help them prepare for the court. I’ll see you tomorrow, Danny. Bye, Sam,” you dismissed them, getting up from the couch and waving goodbye to the two of them as you walked outside with a small smile.

“No wait!” Daniel called, but it was already too late. “What the fuck, Sam?! You know something called knocking on the fucking door?”

Sam didn’t reply, simply because he was too busy explaining the story of why he thought he wouldn’t make it to the case preparation as he cleaned Daniel’s living room. He realised that his friend was paying no attention to him at all, only staring at the almost full Yoo-hoo bottle you’d left on the table from earlier, and that was all Sam needed to know exactly why he was being ignored. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Daniel never replied.

───

“Hi!” he greeted you with the following day, head peaking in your office through the half closed door. He looked dumb, his oversized blue varsity jacket covering most of his palms as he held onto the door with a wide grin, eyes sparkling. You couldn’t understand his excitement.

“Hey,” the reply was dry and held back.

“I think we might actually have just enough evidence to prove Dawson and Downey innocent, all thanks to you,” he claimed happily, allowing himself fully into your office. You gave him a weird look but didn’t question anything, instead ignored him as you organized the discarded papers on your desk into folders. Daniel’s face dropped at your lack of enthusiasm for him, worry written all over his face as he quickly began fiddling again.

“That’s quite literally my job, Daniel.”

“Did I do something to offend you?” His heart was racing now, mind stuck in the loop of any words that he could’ve said to cause your so indifferent reaction. “You’re giving me the cold shoulder. I thought we moved past that.”

“It was just one conversation about the case. It’s not like we’re expected to act like friends after not bickering for a total of five minutes.” Oh. Daniel’s stomach was tied into knots, he felt as though he’d been kicked in the crotch with the worst possible amount of strength. His face was paled, eyes growing blurry as he nodded at your statement, not finding himself strong enough to say anything back to you, and instead choosing to walk out with his last pieces of remaining dignity.

He thought you might had started liking him. Even a little, he didn’t care about the numbers.

Daniel got easily emotionally influenced, though, and his performance at the court was screwed. He wouldn’t communicate with either you or Sam, interrogating the men on the stand with such frustration that the jury sighed every five seconds. You pinched the bridge of your nose and tightened your fingers into fists, crumbling a paper in front of you as Sam touched your shoulder in a way of telling you to calm down.

But how could you? You were losing the case already and it hadn’t even been a day. What is he doing? you thought, relentlessly questioning his choice of tone and movements. You had no idea how you restrained yourself from slapping him against the wall when he returned to the desk, hands shoved into his pockets as he set his jaw.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you whispered yelled at him, but he didn’t even bother to look at you. When the judge dismissed everyone, Daniel walked away as if nothing had happened. Your head was going to explode, you decided, as you followed him, high heels slamming against the floor. You’d strangle the soul out of him, who would even defend you? Sam followed silently, keeping it low-key as he whispered at you not to create any more trouble. Daniel was seemingly upset and at the back of your mind, you wondered if the reason was the fact that you’d neglected him less than an hour ago back in your office. You felt like you should’ve kept that for yourself and tell him later eventually, when the trial would be over. “Do you have any idea why he’s like this?” you turned to the other attorney.

“Why do you think?” was the only thing he left you with, his words ringing in your head as your pace quickened unnecessarily faster than expected. Your breath was coming in short, eyes stinging as you repeatedly called for Daniel’s name in the corridors without any response.

He was proving you right by all this.

All your doubts and fears about him being unable to thoroughly handle the case were bursting one by one, getting huger and huger until you’d start breaking down in a corner on his behalf. You hated Daniel Kaffee more than any other person.

“Daniel, fucking stop!” you shouted and he finally stilled. Your immediate instinct was to take a break from the intense walking, hand over your chest as you tried to regain your balance.

“Maybe you should’ve asked for them to keep me out,” was all he said before disappearing outside. He was mad, but mostly exhausted with everything, especially overwhelmed by you. He was done trying; finished with the case, finished the way you treated him — how one day you loved him and the next day you pretended he wasn’t even there, as if he didn’t exist. And he was fine with that, you didn’t want him, he could live.

But you gave him false hope, or so he thought.

“Lieutenant!” he heard you yell again, your pants mixed with the sound of your heels against the hallway floor. He decided not to turn around, didn’t want to hear anything that you had to say. “Lieutenant Kaffee!” And suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, letting out a breath as he slammed his arms against his sides in defeat.

“What? What do you want from me?” he asked with frustration, voice raspy and shaky as he firmly loosened the black tie that felt like it was cutting the air out of his lungs, suit all messed up and wrinkly from fighting it off his body. He felt heavy, bothered, didn’t want to exist anymore.

“What do you mean what?” you asked with fragility, and it was the first time he’d ever heard you speak a sentence so softly and fearfully.

“I mean what is it?”

“I wanted to say that you did quite well in there, even though it was your first time and that—”

“Please — don’t even — don’t even start…” he cut you off mid-word, eyes squinting close as he tried not to look at you, afraid that just one glance at your face would be enough for him to bend.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re giving me mixed signals!” he abruptly bursted, making you jump a little. You’d never heard him raise his voice like that before, despite the fact that you’d been into countless bickers before with him. No, there was something different this time, something more into it.

“What?”

“You’re — you’re confusing the shit out of me! One day you fucking hate me and the other you get so nice with me that it almost makes me believe that maybe, just maybe, I could have a chance with you… Start things over. And then you go back to day one — and no one has ever… I feel like one day I’m saving you from a burning building and the next I’m throwing you to the sharks, this — this is exactly how it is with us and it’s all your fucking fault! I’ve tried so hard with you, to make myself worthy, to catch your attention, to make you realise that I don’t think I’ve never admired a person more than you in my life before… and you keep throwing everything away! And I’m fine with that, but for the name of love, stop giving me hope that one day maybe you’ll actually start liking me.”

His monologue left you speechless, every word, every breath engraved and buzzing into your troubled brain as he walked away, this time without being stopped by anyone. Daniel felt like rubbish. On one hand, he felt relieved for letting the thoughts that had been eating him alive out, but on the other he felt even heavier. He knew he’d risked so much for speaking up, but the final straw had been put into his overfilled glass.

For a short moment, he considered turning back.

Perhaps you’d have something to say to him, but that was exactly what he dreaded. The more he’d spend looking at you, waiting for an answer or even the slightest reaction, the more he’d want to listen to what you’d have to say to him, and that was cautionary for his condition. Obviously, he’d fallen for you along the line. You’d screwed him over so deeply that he didn’t know where to grasp at to save himself from losing the grip he had by the end of the cliff. No, he decided, if you wanted him half as bad as he wanted you, you’d go after him, search for him, ask people, show that you cared, even if the amount wasn’t a great deal.

It was insignificant to him, if you cared about him as much as he did for you, he just wanted you to care. Even as a companion, or a respected fellow attorney. You didn’t follow him, though, and the sad part was that he wasn’t even surprised. Of course you had nothing to say to him, you’d made that very clear by wanting him so badly off the case that you were prepared to move the sky and earth just to earn the satisfaction of watching him be defeated. And if you so utterly needed him uninvolved, why did you give him motivation not to quit? Why did you keep pushing him?

Every ounce of feeling that he had for you was a big, unanswered why that tortured him inside.

Daniel wished he could erase from your memory what he’d just confessed. Make you forget all about it, have you look at him with the same hateful eye that you always did. Because now, you’d look at him with pity, scared of what to say to him (he’d revealed way too much and he was only just realising it) — gosh, he’d ruined it. He was so exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Ethic violations were involved in the mess, as well, because of course they would be. A sexual relationship with a fellow counsel in the middle of a trial? What was he thinking? As if you even wanted him breathing near you in the first place.

───

It had only been three, going to four hours, ever since Daniel got his heart crashed, made a fool of himself not only in the courtroom, but also in front of you. For him, it felt like days, even a full week. His only company was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s that he’d almost finished, stuffing it in his coat’s large pockets as he walked back home.

This was how you felt about him. You hated him.

And he’d have to make amends with that, but not without the encouragement of cheap alcohol pouring into his system. Thank god for Ross, who always bought him all the booze he needed.

You, on the other hand, had wasted all of your breath trying to look for Daniel everywhere. It’d almost been an hour and you were at the hands of Sam, trying to think about all the possible locations that his friend could be at. You searched for him at the O Club, down at the basketball court, even his own apartment, but he was nowhere to be found. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, caught in your throat as you walked back to his neighborhood, opting to give his apartment another try. It’d been more than thirty minutes ever since you first went, maybe he’d returned by now. Your hands were shaking as you brought a loosely balled up fist to the surface of the door, hesitantly knocking on it once, twice — then heard steps from inside.

“Go away.”

Your entire body eased momentarily at the sound of his voice. Good, he wasn’t dead. His tone was cold and distant, nevertheless, and you knew that he was in no mood for seeing or even speaking to you after how you’d behaved during his speech, or even earlier, during the trial. Your mouth went dry at the first attempt of speaking back to him.

“Danny—”

“You’ve got no place to call me that.”

Oh. So, you’d really broken him.

“Daniel,” you corrected yourself halfheartedly, your hands rubbing up and down against the sides of your outer thighs, “can you let me in?”

“No.”

Your face dropped. You weren’t used to Daniel being so… you didn’t even know how exactly to describe it. The relationship between the two of you hadn’t started on a brilliant basis, neither did it get any better throughout all the time, but even though he didn’t seem to like you very much, he’d always been open for you, in some sort of way that your mind still struggled to comprehend.

“Daniel, please,” you begged, stepping back, surprised when his door creaked open just an inch to reveal his heavy lidded, blurry eyes.

“Do you have anything to say to me about the case? Otherwise, get moving, Commander.”

“Did you… Are you drunk?” you found yourself asking worriedly, ignoring his previous question.

“Why do you care, huh? Last time I checked, you didn’t give two shits about me!” he yelled, slamming the door back shut into your face, causing you to flinch. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“So this is it?”

Daniel swore he was only a second away from exploding, your question sending him over the edge as he chuckled in frustration, not knowing whether you asked what you asked simply to piss him off, or if you were genuinely placing an inquiry that you had been unclear about.

“This is what? Are you fucking with me?”

“You’ve hated me ever since you stepped into my office. You always did, say it. Just say that you hate me, you can’t stand me anymore, come on. Or is this just for Sam’s ears? That you wished I’d taken you out of the case just so you wouldn’t have to listen to my voice any longer. Come on, Kaffee, that’s all you’ve got to say.”

Daniel backed away in disbelief, then made you silently wince as he punched hard against the door, the sound of his skin hitting the processes wood ringing in faint echoes inside your eardrums. You’d driven him out of control.

“Me? Hate you? How could you possibly say such a thing — I — I…” Daniel wasn’t sure how to continue the sentence. There were too options and both of them would have a negative impact upon your relationship with each other and case.

One; he could let his tipsy mind ramble on and on about how you hadn’t once left his mind ever since he saw you for the first time, that he’d never felt so intimidated by anyone, never had fallen into such a deep awe of someone’s passion and ability to pursue their goals in life. That he wished he could possess the one thirds of your courage and determination, because you were honestly scared of nothing, got all the questions you wanted answered within a heartbeat. You didn’t back down in any occasion, you were your own person and Daniel had fallen so deeply in love with everything that you so proudly owned in your character that he thought he was a lost card.

Two; he could never continue the sentence, trail off and stay completely silent, see if you had anything to reply to him — and of course, he opted for the safest option, which was the second one. He was too scared of wearing his heart on his sleeve, knowing that you’d break it anyway.

“The fact that you’re so fucking scared of being a lawyer is beyond me. You’re in the Navy for crying out loud, get a hold of yourself,” was all you muttered in response, leaning against his door, completely unaware of the fact that he was also in the same position, that if the door disappeared in thin air that very moment, you’d fall on top of him with your mouth so dangerously close to his own that he’d pass out (and so would you, in some extent.)

Daniel’s every muscle was so tightly contracted, that he believed they’d crash altogether without any warning if he spent one more minute, forehead pressed against the door, knowing damn well that you were still outside, that you breathed just as heavily as he did, that he’d tied himself to the tracks, ready to be run over.

He knew that whatever was happening in that moment would reek of runny makeup and salty tears, sweat of agony running down the faces of two attorneys, bewildered and scorned as they fell into silence in preference of doing what they’d studied in law school for four years; defend their own selves, master the words. The ability of speaking had died down your throats near the day you chose bitterness over respect for each other.

Daniel averted his eyes to the ground, mustered all the courage he could possibly get and loosened his fingers in his fist. He called your name once, twice, but no reply ever came back. He knew you’d left, could understand it by the way he peaked through the glass hole in his door and saw that no one was there. His logic screamed at him to stay where he was, crash in the couch, close his eyes and sleep, forget about the case, forget about you, the conversations, the feelings, the tension, everything. Take down the entire Jack Daniel’s bottle and lean into the cushions without any further thinking.

Thank God that Daniel hated logical reasoning.

His door flew open as he hurried outside, not caring about his half unbuttoned dress shirt and blowsy uniform. It had been raining for hours now, the steady patter of water hitting against the windows of his small apartment long since faded to a dull rush in the back of his mind. He stepped out of the building, the thick material of his coat almost getting soaked through instantly. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out how far ahead you’d gotten, the pouring rain blurring his vision as he eventually spotted you on the road.

“Commander!” he shouted, but you didn’t turn, so he called for your name instead, numerous times until your feet gave up. A piercing gust of wind shook the trees above your head, showering your already miserable frame with a fresh deluge. You wiped the water from your eyes with a wet sleeve and tucked a lock of long brunette hair that fell into your eyes behind your dampened ear.

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” you said with a steady voice, barely audible in the downpour. Daniel tried to catch his breath as he finally reached you, looking like he was about to either melt along with the rain, or simply vanish.

“No, I can’t accept that. We — We braved extraordinary circumstances to get over here. You need to give me one chance,” he begged, but you kept walking, tired of his mediocre speeches and dramatic overreactions everywhere possibly imaginable. You wanted facts, wanted to listen to him fully, crystal clearly admit what he had to say. Not dance around it like he’d catch on fire. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Fucking listen to me!”

“Fuck off, Lieutenant Kaffee!” you screamed back, not caring about the fact that the rain would probably give you a deadly cold the following day, if not kill you by throwing you off at a very abrupt road pit. Daniel was soaked, hair sticking to his forehead and still very drunk. He felt embarrassed of how high pitched his voice got whenever he yelled from the top of his lungs, almost sounding like a complaining kid at the supermarket, who wouldn’t get the sweets he wanted from the counter while waiting to pay.

He needed answers. Did you even like him?

“You’re saying I’m scared and you can’t even face how you feel!” he shouted catching you off guard. “You can’t even look at me without lying.” Your blood was boiling into your veins as you gave him that chance, which he so desperately wanted, to explain himself to you, to see what he had to say.

“What did you just say?”

Daniel came closer, hands shaking from the temper building within him, looking pathetic as his hair dripped along with the rain down his face.

“You say I’m scared, but you’re terrified. At least I’ve shown you how I feel about you. I give myself away, because I can’t hold back everything that goes into my head the second you walk in it. I’m too weak to defend myself when it comes to you — look at me, you make me forget how to do my job — and I’m one of the most qualified lawyers out there, according to the Navy.”

“What are you talking about? You haven’t even once told me anything about how you feel about me. I’ve overheard you say to Sam that you hate me, that you wish you couldn’t hear my voice. What the fuck were you on about, huh, Kaffee?”

Daniel threw his hands and looked up, gulping down his worn out feelings as he tried to collect himself from breaking down in front of you, yet once again. “You know what Sam said to me when I kept telling him all that stuff about you?”

“I don’t care about what he said to you,” you scoffed in annoyance, ready to leave again, when you heard the words fly out of his mouth.

“That I’m in love with you!”

Daniel ached to prove that you were the scared one in this, breath wasted as he summoned every single ounce of remaining strength he had to grab you by the arm and yank you close to him, crashing his lips into yours forcefully. He never imagined the first time he’d get to kiss you to be that way. His body was trembling in fear (and because of the weather), heart hammering in the most literal way possible. The kiss barely lasted, seeing as you pushed him away almost instantly.

He felt crashed into millions of pieces, exploding like they did in the cartoons. He’d gathered so much courage to finally kiss you, and there you were, looking at him like he’d committed some sort of unbelievable crime, like he’d offended your honour. Daniel felt like an idiot; he’d ruined everything even worse. Had he really misinterpreted every look, every conversation, every fight? He wanted to cry, so he did. His tears ran down his salty cheeks, mixing with the rain, which allowed him to sob as hard as he needed to, not caring whether it made him look more pathetic and weak than he already was.

Who was going to see anyway?

You weren’t saying a word and Daniel was sure that another heartbeat was all it would take for the organ to crawl up inside his throat and hurl out, break; rip in two. He’d said his biggest fear, had actually put the exact words in it, then proceeded to throw an action. And he was destroyed, not because you didn’t kiss him back or because you pushed him away, but because you had chosen the mute torture of silence.

“…What else do I have to do to prove to you that I’m so fucking head over heels for you that I can’t possibly concentrate on anything else? I might lose the case and make a fool of myself, because you make me not think,” he tried again, this time with a fragile and weak voice. He honestly had no idea what more he could do to convince you about his feelings, about how nuts you drove him with your attitude and insane personality.

But again, you opted not to say anything. Instead, you quickly took a few steps forward, grabbed him by the ends of the collar of his long, black coat and pulled him into you, mouth capturing his own swiftly as you tilted your head to the side, deepening the kiss. Daniel was paralyzed for a short second, not knowing if he’d been struck by some sort of lightning that had killed him and brought him to a different reality, or whether you kissing him was an actual, real, skin to skin thing.

Stupidly enough, he allowed his lips to turn upwards into a broadening smile, responding with such enthusiasm, even though he was ridiculously taken aback by your choice of action. It took him a minute to regain his composure, the storm — hell, the entire world — around you feeling meaningless as his hands laced with yours, causing your grip on him to relax a little.

Daniel was falling fast, faster than ever, craving more of your scent and the feel of you pressed closer and tighter to him, the taste of alcohol mixing along with the buds of your mouth, unsure how this whole story had even began for him.

But his stupid, stupid lungs had to find air, and he was forced to separate from you with the feeling of gravity being torn out of his core. You’d disconnected your hands from his (with another pitiful drop in his stomach) so you could run them through his disheveled, wet hair, and his eyes fluttered close at the touch. You looked up at him with an emotion that neither of you could really find the words to explain, and Daniel wanted to kiss you again, heat rising to his face, forming a what he thought could be a permanent blush as his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

“I’m so wet,” you realised out loud with a dumb smile, trying to hold back a giggle as you watched him bemusedly, eyes glowing brightly at the way he looked at you with such confusion, a bulge straining into his damp uniform pants.

“What — wha… what?” his voice was high pitched and shaky as he cleared his throat. “Oh! Shit — the rain, let’s — let’s get you inside!” He was so flustered and hard, just from one kiss, and he stuttered in every word he spoke. He took his coat off and covered your head with it as he grabbed you by the hand, hurrying back to his apartment.

When you went inside, you acted all unbothered, like nothing had even happened just a moment ago, and it was killing Daniel, because he was terrified of you throwing him away once again. He helped you to the couch, then rushed into his bedroom, pulling out every piece of clothing that he had in the wardrobe with such anticipation as he anxiously roamed through the selves to find blankets to offer you, get you dry from the rain.

“Okay, this is all I have. Do you prefer the pink or the... what color is this — orange? Coral? Erm, which one—” he was getting tongue tied and you found it adorable, taking both blankets off his hands as he stared at us, mesmerised. You looked over your shoulder, as if he was looking through you, then returned your gaze at him, getting nervous. “I’ll — I’m going to make coffee!”

You heard him smack his forehead as he went in the kitchen and grinned like a child. “Daniel?” you called from the living room with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“It was coral, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The blanket. It was coral. Can I change my clothes? I’m getting your couch wet,” you asked.

“Sure! Closet’s in the left.”

You got up, wrapped in the blankets as you walked into his closet, shamelessly going through all of his ridiculous, childish, cheap shirts that you so deeply hated (loved). You found a black shirt, which you threw over your body as you picked a checkered shirt to put on as well, feeling a little lump from the chest pocket. You went through it and pulled out an unused condom, cheeks turning pink as you held out the object and went to the kitchen, proudly exposing it in your hand.

“Is this a gift?” you questioned, laughing wholeheartedly when you noticed Daniel’s cheeks burn red in earth swallowing embarrassment.

“Oh… uhm,” he snatched the condom off you, “you’re wearing my special shirt.”

“Your what?”

“My special shirt. It’s for… good luck… for when I go to baseball games and everything. Or — Or dates. Nothing important, no need to make a great deal out of it.” He felt dead inside, still very confused by the fact that you still hadn’t made the smallest reference to the kiss you’d shared. Was it just a thing that occurred due to the heat of the moment? It broke him just to think so, because for a split minute, he gave himself the permission to picture the two of you together, as an actual couple in love. Was he supposed to bring it up first? Were you waiting for him?

Daniel felt like a jerk, unintentionally pouting.

“Please,” you mumbled. Please stop being pathetic, I really like you too. “Danny?”

“It’s still raining. You can stay… I mean, if you want to, of course.” And gosh, both of you were about to melt, saying nothing, just staring at each other with millions of words being exchanged just through the different kinds of gleams in your eyes. You fucking hated Daniel Kaffee so much.

“Danny?” you repeated and he urgently shook his head, letting you know that you could keep going with the question. You smiled warmly, wrapping your arms gently around his neck, then, “I’d love to stay overnight. Oh, and you’re like seven of the strangest men I’ve ever met.”

FIN.

for your information, me and @honeymvnt wrote this together. might be one of the best things i’ve ever had the chance to write, ilysfm lia 🫵🏼🎀

[lonestarbattleship]

August 18, 2024 Update from the Battleship Texas Foundation

"BATTLESHIP TEXAS UPDATE

The ship is currently moored at Pier D in Gulf Copper Shipyard where it will continue to undergo repairs and preparations to become a museum ship once again.

Battleship Texas is currently moored at Pier D in Gulf Copper Shipyard where it will continue to undergo repairs and preparations to become a museum ship once again.

PINE DECK REPAIRS: Workers are currently laying the pine deck on the ship's bow. Below is a breakdown of how this is done. Yes, Battleship Texas had a deck made up of mostly pine during the ship's service career.

The underlying steel deck has been repaired and made watertight with all existing studs removed and ground flush. Once welding has concluded in each area, the steel is properly coated.

4"x4" treated southern yellow pine deck planks are shaped and fitted to the deck then coated to protect against moisture. A Dolphinite Bedding Compound is applied to both the steel deck and bottom of the board prior to final installation. Boards are secured by studs which are welded to the steel deck during installation.

Plank and margin board seams are caulked using on strand of cotton caulking, three strands of oakum, and sealed with a marine sealant.

Workers are currently laying the pine deck on the ship's bow. Below is a breakdown of how this is done. Yes, Battleship Texas had a deck made up of mostly pine during the ship's service career.

MEASURE 21: The ship is being painted in the Measure 21 camouflage scheme. All horizontal surfaces will be Deck Blue 20-B, and all vertical surfaces will be Navy Blue 5-N. Battleship Texas is only one of two battleships in a WWII camouflage scheme, and the ONLY ship in Measure 21.

The ship is being painted in the Measure 21 camouflage scheme. All horizontal surfaces will be Deck Blue 20-B, and all vertical surfaces will be Navy Blue 5-N. Battleship Texas is only one of two battleships in a WWII camouflage scheme, and the ONLY ship in Measure 21. 

MAIN MAST: The ship's main mast has been primed and painted in Navy Blue 5-N. The radar top mast, along with its SG and SK radar antennas, has been placed back atop the ship's main mast! We plan to make a separate post with a more in-depth explanation of all the work that was done.

The main mast aboard Battleship Texas has some new antennas which were reproduced and installed recently.

Watch as the ship's SK and SG radar antenna take to the sky!

The radar top mast from Battleship Texas is carefully transported back to the ship for reinstallation.

Workers apply the final touches of paint to the radar top mast from Battleship Texas prior to installation.

The radar top mast from Battleship Texas has has several missing pieces, like this light, restored and reinstalled.

We plan to make a separate post with a more in-depth explanation of all the work that was done.

Battleship Texas Foundation and Gulf Copper Shipyard staff discuss the reinstallation of the ship's radar top mast. We plan to make a separate post with a more in-depth explanation of all the work that was done.

The radar top mast is carefully reinstalled aboard Battleship Texas. We plan to make a separate post with a more in-depth explanation of all the work that was done.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

WHAT'S NEXT? - Battleship Texas will remain at Gulf Copper Shipyard while the ship's new home in Galveston, Texas, is prepared. Additional steel work, replacement of the ship's deck, further restoration, and painting will be done during this time.

TOURING? - The Battleship Texas Foundation will be offering touring options while the ship is in the shipyard. Participants will be able to view ongoing work and restoration or learn all about how the ship operated during its service career. Tours are expected to begin in late 2024.

REOPENING? - There is a lot to be done before the ship is ready for touring at its new home in Galveston, Texas. Reopening is projected to happen in the later half of 2025.

MISSING GUNS? - The ship's anti-aircraft guns are currently undergoing restoration. The guns and gun directors will be replaced once their restoration is complete.

The ship is being painted in the Measure 21 camouflage scheme. All horizontal surfaces will be Deck Blue 20-B, and all vertical surfaces will be Navy Blue 5-N. Battleship Texas is only one of two battleships in a WWII camouflage scheme, and the ONLY ship in Measure 21.

Come on Texas!

To donate to the preservation and operation of Battleship Texas, please visit: battleshiptexas.org/

Support Battleship Texas by making a purchase through the ship's store: https://store.battleshiptexas.org

Posted on the Battleship Texas Foundation Facebook page: link, link

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 19: A Better Offer

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

The following morning found yourself in front of the living room window, absorbing the tranquil beauty of the sunrise while Jake showered. You wore lounge wear and with a freshly brewed pot of coffee prepared, you cradled a cup in your hands, savoring the warmth and aroma. The sound of the shower running and the peaceful sunrise offered a moment of calm reflection as you thought about last night and the last 4 years of your "relationship" with Jake.

As the first rays of sunlight painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, your thoughts meandered through the complexity of emotions and events in the last week and a half that had brought you to this moment. Yet, despite the challenges, there was a resilience to your bond with Jake, a tether that, although stretched, had never broken.

You took a sip of your coffee, the rich flavor grounding you in the present. The sound of the water in the shower ceased, signaling Jake's imminent appearance soon.

You realized that the path forward wasn't about erasing the past but rather about learning from it. It was about acknowledging the pain and the mistakes, but also the love that had endured through it all. The challenge would be to integrate your lives in a way that respected both your independence and your unity as a couple.

As you dwelled on the intimacy of last night, its significance began to resonate even more profoundly. You were always aware that Jake loved with intensity, but the depth of his affection and vulnerability revealed in those moments gave you a new understanding of just how profound his love truly was. This realization highlighted a powerful commonality between you two: both of you loved deeply, with a passion and intensity that was a foundational pillar of your relationship.

Jake came out of the bedroom, clad in his flight suit, ready for the day. "That coffee smells wonderful," he commented, making his way towards the coffee pot.

"There's a travel mug I got for you. It's in the cabinet," you replied, pointing him towards the new purchase designed to keep his coffee warm on the go.

He opened the cabinet, his eyes quickly finding the U.S. Navy travel mug. Setting it on the counter, he filled it with the freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, darlin'," he said, appreciation evident in his voice.

You heard the sound of the cup being sealed and then his footsteps approaching. Soon, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you gently into his embrace, and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Morning," he greeted you warmly, his voice close and affectionate.

"Good morning," you responded, leaning into his embrace, feeling the solidity and warmth of him grounding you further. The simplicity of the gesture, the comfort of his proximity—it was these small moments that you realized you had missed the most during the years of separation and sporadic communication.

Turning slightly within the circle of his arm, you faced him, looking up into his eyes. "Did you sleep well?" you asked, genuinely interested in even the smallest details of his existence. These were the daily intricacies you had been absent from, the minutiae that, when woven together, formed the fabric of a shared life.

He grinned, a look of genuine contentment on his face. "I did. Haven't slept that good since we were in Wisconsin or at my parent's house."

His presence, the smell of coffee mingling with the fresh scent of his shower, created a cozy, domestic scene that you wanted to etch into your memory. It was a stark contrast to the turbulent emotions and the vast distances that had characterized much of your marriage. But here, in this moment, with the morning light casting a gentle glow around you, there was a sense of peace, a feeling that, perhaps, everything could indeed be alright.

"And you?" he inquired, turning his attention to how you slept.

You leaned further into his embrace, comforted by his presence. "Wonderfully. Thank you for asking," you replied, appreciating his concern. You sensed him take another sip of his coffee, the warmth of the moment shared between you two.

"What are your plans for today?" he inquired, showing interest in how you'd be spending your day.

"I'm going to check on some emails and then go from there. Do you need me to drive you to work?" you offered, ready to assist him with his commute if necessary.

"No. Coyote is on his way," he replied, indicating that arrangements had already been made for his transportation.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door. Jake gently turned you to face him. "That's Coyote," he said, giving you a kiss. "I love you." He then moved to answer the door.

"I love you too," you called after him, your words carrying the weight of your feelings.

Coyote entered. "Morning, Y/N."

"Morning, Coyote. You two have a good day," you said, offering them both a smile and well wishes for the day ahead.

"We will," they assured you together, their voices blending in harmony as they exited, the door closing softly behind them.

You pivoted back towards the window, immersing yourself once again in the tranquil beauty of the sunrise. The serene colors of dawn painted the sky, providing a peaceful backdrop as you took a moment to enjoy the quiet morning.

After your shower, you settled at the kitchen table, your laptop open in front of you. You took a sip of your coffee, enjoying the quiet of the morning when your phone dinged, breaking the silence. Reaching for it, you saw a text message from Dr. Colson on the screen. He was asking if you could get in touch with him.

You quickly texted him back, agreeing to initiate a video call, then placed your phone down on the table. Switching to your laptop, you initiated the call to Dr. Colson.

"Y/N! How are you?" Dr. Colson greeted enthusiastically as he accepted the call, his face appearing on your screen.

"Hi, Jason. I'm doing fine," you responded, offering a smile through the screen.

Jason glanced around, noticing the difference in your background. "You're not in your office?"

"No. I'm actually in San Diego," you explained, watching his reaction.

"San Diego?" Jason echoed, surprise evident in his voice.

"Yeah, Jake got called back for a mission and he leaves this Friday," you explained.

Dr. Colson leaned back in his chair, the surprise morphing into understanding as he processed your news. "Ah, I see. That must be quite the adjustment for both of you," he commented thoughtfully. "How are you handling it?"

You paused for a moment, considering how much to share. "It's been… challenging," you admitted. "But we're trying to make the most of the time we have before he leaves."

Jason nodded sympathetically, understanding the complexity of your situation. He then shifted his focus, leaning in slightly. "Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about that Wyoming project."

"Oh, yes!" you responded, your interest piqued.

"Are you still interested?" he asked, a hint of hope in his tone.

"I would love to, but I need to check with my work on when I can do it," you admitted, the prospect exciting yet challenging.

"Dr. Stryker will, of course, be in charge of it again," Jason mentioned, observing your reaction closely.

You shrugged. "That's fine," you replied, your tone neutral.

Dr. Colson studied you for a moment. "Y/N. Did something happen during the first book writing? I've known you for a while now, and I consider you a good friend." His concern was genuine, hinting at the depth of your relationship beyond professional boundaries.

You sighed, a weight seemingly pressing on your shoulders as you prepared to share. "While in Wyoming, Dr. Stryker and I became friends. Pretty close friends, actually. He knew about Jake and everything I was going through, but he kind of took it the wrong way. I told him I just wanted to be friends."

The vulnerability in your voice conveyed the complexity of the situation, hinting at the discomfort and misunderstanding that had arisen from the friendship.

"The day we were at your office before the conference, he told me he still had feelings for me and that he still thought about me. I told him I didn't."

"Y/N. Why didn't you say something?" Jason's voice carried a mix of concern and surprise, reflecting his wish that you had confided in him sooner about the discomfort and tension you were experiencing.

"I was already dealing with enough; I didn't want to put that on someone else, and I left to go back home anyways." Your response highlighted a desire to manage your burdens independently, avoiding adding any stress or complications to others' lives, despite the personal challenges you were facing.

"Well, then how about something different?" Jason suggested, his tone changing, hinting at a new possibility.

You looked at him, intrigued by the shift in the conversation.

"A new grant project just came across my desk specifically asking for you."

Puzzled, you looked at him. "For me? But I don't even work for Texas A&M."

"Well, you made a really good impression on someone here at the conference." Jason's words implied that your expertise and demeanor had caught the attention of influential individuals, opening up unexpected opportunities.

"They want you to be in charge of the livestock study in the upper half of Wisconsin, so you can actually manage this project from home." Jason's announcement revealed an exciting opportunity that not only recognized your capabilities but also accommodated your personal circumstances, allowing you to contribute significantly while remaining in your own environment.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise, processing the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. "That's…wow, Jason. I'm honored they'd consider me for such a project, especially given my current commitments and location. But how did this come about?"

Jason leaned back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "It seems your work on the previous project, your book, and your presentation here have made quite the impression. Plus, your approach to integrating practical experience with academic research caught someone's eye. They're looking for someone with your unique blend of skills to lead this study."

The possibility excited you, offering a new avenue to apply your expertise while potentially opening doors for future collaborations and projects. "And I'd be able to manage this remotely, from Wisconsin?"

"Exactly," Jason confirmed. "They're looking for someone who understands the local environment, livestock management practices, and has a strong research background. You'd be coordinating with a team, but the bulk of the project management can be done from wherever you're most comfortable."

Taking a moment to ponder the offer, you realized the potential impact this project could have on your career and personal goals. It was a chance to delve into a subject you were passionate about while also providing the flexibility you needed to maintain your commitments to Jake and your home life.

"Jason, this sounds like an incredible opportunity. I'm definitely interested. What are the next steps? How do I find out more about the project specifics and expectations?"

"We can set up a meeting with the project sponsors and the main stakeholders at Texas A&M. They're eager to discuss the project with you, go over the goals, and see how you envision leading this study. I'll coordinate with them to find a time that works for everyone."

"Thank you, Jason. Really, I appreciate you bringing this opportunity to me. Let's set up that meeting some time next week. I'm eager to learn more and see how I can contribute to the success of the project."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll touch base with you this weekend?"

"Yeah, that should work. If anything comes up on my end, I'll let you know."

"Sounds good. And tell Jake I said hi."

"I will. Thanks again, Jason." You ended the call, feeling a mix of anticipation for the new project and gratitude for the unexpected support.

"So, how did you end up with someone as amazing as Y/N?" Phoenix inquired of Jake as they exited the classroom. "She just seems way beyond your usual catch."

Jake quirked an eyebrow in response. "And what expertise do you have on the kind of women I'm interested in?"

Phoenix shrugged, her expression transforming into a teasing smile. "Could be your charm at work."

Jake glanced at her, slightly amused. "That's my piloting skills you're thinking of, not my romantic life."

Phoenix chuckled, shaking her head. "Fair point. But seriously, there must be something. Y/N is impressive. How'd you convince her to stick around with a daredevil like you?"

"It's all about that Hangman charm, Phoenix," he declared with a confident smirk.

Phoenix rolled her eyes again, her tone laced with mock annoyance. "To me, it comes off more as an irritation, but sure, keep seeing it your way."

"There's no need to imagine anything, Phoenix. I'm married to an incredible woman."

"I won't argue with that. I'm just curious how you managed to win over such an amazing woman."

Jake's laughter filled the air, a testament to the comfortable camaraderie between them, even amidst the teasing. "Like I've been telling you, it's all down to the Hangman charm."

Phoenix simply shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're an idiot."

You were wrapping up with your final email of the day when the sound of the apartment door swinging open broke the silence. Jake stepped inside, greeting you with a warm, "Hey, darlin'," as he shut the door behind him and made his way over to you.He planted a quick kiss on your lips. "How was your day?" he inquired, his face lighting up with a broad smile.

You knew your husband too well and wondered why he was so happy. "Actually, my day was really good. Should I be concerned that you're so happy?"

"Nope," he responded, with an air of casual nonchalance and then looked you up and down. "You didn't get dressed today?"

You shrugged, slightly puzzled. "Why would I be? I just went through emails all day. Didn't even step out."

"Find anything positive?" he inquired, heading towards the fridge to fetch a beer.

"Actually, yes. Do you recall the Wyoming project Dr. Stryker offered me to collaborate on?"

You noticed Jake's body stiffen at the mention of the name. "Yeah," he replied, as he grabbed a bottle opener and opened his beer. He then slowly started walked towards you.

"I'm not going to take it. I talked with Jason about what happened the last time."

"But, Y/N, wasn't that what you were aiming for?" He asked, settling into the chair opposite you.

"Yes, it was. But I've been offered a grant for a different project closer to home. It allows me to work remotely while still fulfilling my responsibilities."

Jake's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm planning to discuss the details with Jason next week, but from what I've heard so far, everything sounds ideal."

Jake closed his eyes, his face breaking into a contented grin.

Observing him, you ventured, "You didn't really want me to take that job in Wyoming, did you?"

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. "We're still committed to being honest with each other, right?"

You shot him a knowing look.

"Okay, I'll take that as a confirmation. But to answer your question, yes, I was secretly hoping you'd turn down that one."

Your expression softened at his admission, understanding the complexity of emotions that must have been swirling within him. "It's because of Dorian, isn't it?"

He paused to take a sip of his beer. "I cannot confirm or deny that statement."

You shut your laptop, signaling the end of that conversation thread. "Don't worry about it. I had my reservations too."

"So, what's the project about?"

"From what I've gathered, it's a study on livestock. I'll probably have a clearer picture after my discussion with Jason next week."

Jake let out a sigh. "You know, my deployment is just a few days away. When we first got married, leaving didn't seem as tough. Why does it feel so different this time?"

"I believe last time, we hadn't fully grasped the impact of loss on one another. Now that we understand, our relationship has evolved. Our love never waned, but we've had to learn how to heal together this past week and a half." Reaching out, you took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You know, Phoenix was wondering how I managed to end up with someone as incredible as you. Now, she's got me asking myself the same question."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a mix of warmth and amusement. "Was she now?" you asked, your tone light, teasing. "Well, it's quite simple, really. You charmed me with your undeniable charm."

"See! That's exactly what I told her!"

Jake’s response, laced with a playful pride, made you laugh. "Oh, is that so? Well, it must be true then," you played along, keeping the mood light and affectionate. "But in all honesty, Jake, it wasn't just the charm," you added, capturing his gaze with a look of sincerity. "It was your heart, your strength, and how you make me feel safe and loved. Those are the things that truly won me over."

He listened intently, his playful demeanor softening into one of warmth and affection. "I guess I'm just lucky then, to have found someone who sees me for more than just the pilot or the charm."

"And let's not forget to mention the cockiness and stubbornness," you added playfully.

Jake chuckled, the sound rich and full of affection. "Ah, yes, how could I forget those charming qualities?" he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "They're part of the complete package, after all."

"You know, it's those very traits that somehow make you even more endearing to me," you confessed, a smile playing on your lips. "They remind me of your determination and passion, even if they do drive me up the wall sometimes."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing they work in my favor then. And just for the record, your patience and understanding with my less-than-perfect traits? That's part of what makes you so incredible to me." He cupped your face in his hands, and you closed your eyes, basking in the gentle warmth.

The moment stretched out, a small island of peace in the midst of life's relentless pace. His hands, strong yet so gentle, framed your face, and you could feel the weight of his affection, heavy and tangible in the air between you. When you opened your eyes, it was to find his gaze fixed on you, filled with an emotion so profound that it seemed to momentarily pause the world around you.

"Jake," you whispered, your voice carrying a mixture of love, gratitude, and a hint of the inevitable sadness that the thought of his departure brought. "I just want you to know... no matter where you are, or what happens, you're always with me. Right here." You placed your hand over your heart, the gesture simple but laden with meaning.

"And you're with me," he murmured back. "You make me a better man, Y/N. I carry your love with me, no matter where I go. It's what keeps me grounded, what gives me the strength to come back."

His words, so full of emotion and sincerity, resonated deep within you, wrapping around your heart like a comforting embrace. It was a powerful reminder of the strength of your connection, a bond that distance and time could not weaken.

In that moment, the world seemed to stand still, allowing you both to bask in the quiet strength of your love. It was a love that had grown and deepened through challenges and triumphs, a love that was resilient and enduring.

As you both lingered in the warmth of the moment, you realized that this was the essence of what it meant to truly be with someone. It wasn't just about the physical presence; it was about knowing that you carried a piece of each other within your hearts, no matter where life took you.

With a tender smile, you reached up, tracing the lines of his face with a gentle touch, memorizing every detail. "I'll be here, Jake. Holding down the fort, and counting the days until you return. You have my heart, always."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes reflecting the same depth of feeling. "And you have mine, Y/N. Always."

"It's going to be different this time, Jake."

"It will be," he concurred.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

[wearepaladin]

If you do end up writing that scene about your RT, please share it with us!

Orphic Hymn 64 to Nomos (trans. Taylor) (Greek hymns C3rd B.C. to 2nd A.D.) : "Hymn to Nomos (Law). The holy king of gods and men I call, heavenly Nomos, the righteous seal of all: the seal which stamps whatever the earth contains, and all concealed within the liquid plains: stable, and starry, of harmonious frame, preserving laws eternally the same. Thy all-composing power in heaven appears, connects its frame, and props the starry spheres; and unjust envy shakes with dreadful sound, tossed by thy arm in giddy whirls around. 'Tis thine the life of mortals to defend, and crown existence with a blessed end; for thy command alone, of all that lives, order and rule to every dwelling goes. Ever observant of the upright mind, and of just actions the companion kind. Foe to the lawless, with avenging ire, their steps involving in destruction dire. Come, blest, abundant power, whom all reverse, by all desired, with favouring mind draw near; give me through life on thee to fix my sight, and never forsake the equal paths of right."

It always begins and ends with numbers. In a material universe, there are laws written unto the foundation of everything, from the most ancient stars to the machinery of atoms, the edicts that dictate the fundament are written eternal. In this place absent of meaning, walls of metal and the hollow men who loomed over the lost and the damned, did Thane Solcar fortify her mind with numbers, the digits providing rhythm, the equations lyrics, and solutions a chorus.

Estimated population of the Imperium between (10 to the 15th power) and (10 to the 24th power).

Thane Solcar had been someone small as opposed to negligible value in the Imperium of Man. The younger daughter of a minor nobility, an off shoot of some distant ancestor of greater significance whose wayward progeny had used their inheritance to separate from the greater dynasty to find their own way as a merchant noble making their travails among the stars. Not content to settle into a sedentary life upon anyone one location in the Empire of Humanity, they had been wayfarers upon the void. And her parents had ensured she'd never lacked the respect in the machine spirits and their codices on the proper maintenance and direction, and she had taken well to it, learning keenly and adapting what could be safely learned for one technically not part of the Followers of the Omnissiah, but like any of the voidborn, their ship was the world, the galaxy distant compared to the great emptiness that fills it. And the reliance upon the Light that allowed one to navigate it.

Tithe requires 1,000-4,000 subjects daily. In a single year, 365,000 to 1,460,000 are brought to Holy Terra. They are brought...

The Astronomican, the Light that spanned across the Imperium, allowing The Imperium to exist, was known to any Voidborn who bothered to use their ears. The need to have it and the Navis Nobiliti, who alone could used that Light as a point of reference across the infinite. Thane knew the Navis were psyker mutants, and thus not trusted by many of the ground walkers, but the necessity of them, both in the immediate wellbeing of her family's fortunes and mankind as a whole, went a long way to smothering the hatred that Thane was told she should feel for such beings. What use was hate for something that you needed to live? This thought process proved beneficial, a passive acceptance of the need of psykers. It helped when she learned that she herself was one.

...before the Astronomican, and aid in its care, under the gaze of His Divine Majesty. This has been the case for the last 10,000 years. Therefore...

It began innocently enough. Thane thought she heard choruses outside the hull and tried to imitate them, trying to find harmony, and Things began listen to and object to the harmony. The discordance (Chaos) overtook so much, and only the harmonies that sought brought a notion of defense even as ice began to freeze her surroundings. The Caretakers of the Black Ships thus found her, lost in the harmonies and the numbers she mumbled like a shield, even as everything else was lost. ...those brought to the Astronomican in the history of the Imperium thus number between 3 to 8 billion depending on the consistency of those provided by the Black Ships. But....where do they go, the numbers of people, they need somewhere to go...where are...

Thus it had been for the days of the journey on Black Ship, the vessels whose purpose was to find and transport the Tithe, the psykers the Imperium could provide. That the Imperium needed. She could not trust her newfound senses, but Thane had been using the far more trusted sense of her ears, and listened to what little the guardians on the ship had said. She knew they were going to the homeworld of mankind, to serve The God Emperor in some way related to the Astronomican. Unknown to her, two women observed her briefly as they studied Thane and the other Psyker prisoners. They spoke with their hands, having long ago made an oath of silence. (This one?) (Too weak willed. Mumbling throughout the journey, insane due to what happened to her kinsmen aboard the ship we found her. She will serve the God-Emperor by providing him the kindling He needs) And with that, her fate decided, they walked by, moving on to determine fate of the next imprisoned, and Thane Solcar was sentenced by the servants of The Emperor. And that should have been the end of it. -----

The Golden Throne is often invoked by the denizens of the Imperium of man, nearly as synonymous as their empire and the god they are devoted to as the emblem of the Aquila, the icon of their empire. But the Throne itself is often less depicted beyond a simple chair that the iconography of the Emperor at rest. In truth, it is more than that. Housed in the holy mountain that had once been known as Everest as a sign of human pride or Chomolungma for those who'd been born under her shadow and thus knew her as Mother of the world, the Mountain had been hollowed long ago, and it was here and among the sister mountains that the Imperial Palace resided, respledent with a majesty that silenced the past natural beauty in favor of the crafted golden glory of the relatively recent Imperium of Man. It was here, that Thane Solcar was brought, her newfound senses blinding her to any notion of Imperial Opulence, as the Light of the Astronomican burned so brightly, making even the sun seem a distant comparison to the Light that crowned this world. And beneath that crown sat Him, The Emperor. She could not see Him, hidden away in a labyrinth of gold, iron, and stone, but as she was laid out among the rows upon rows of other Tithed, she could feel Him, like a crystaline spike that all reality seemed to twist through. One by one, then multitude by multitude, she watched as the Tithed became part of that light, their souls as bright as myriad stars, were taken, absorbed, added ot the conflagration that was Him. Death, she realized. Death was what awaited those sacrficed before Him on Earth. With comprehension did not rouse panic, not yet, but as she hummed her harmonies, her soul beginning to be dragged into the cosmic bonfire that was Soul of the Master of Mankind, she dared something that some would consider blasphemy as her soul made contact with the Emperor.

Why?

The Light overtook her, and Annihilation or Consumption did not claim her. Instead she Saw, her single question answered in the form of a galaxy long burning. Thane Solcar saw the galaxy burning over a period of fifteen thousand years and humanity and xenos alike lost to that conflagration. Once great nations and dreams forever lost, be it to Man's own Folly, the machinations of dark powers from within and without reality, or the simple cruelties of fate. She saw the Emperor's dream of uniting mankind after the Long Night, a belief in the destiny of her species, their species, for He spoke to her now in a way that rendered others to embers, a fire she was now, and yet still herself.

She saw the events leading to the Great Crusade, the Crusade itself and the endless wars that followed, of Heresy, of Conquest, of Glory and Purpose. She saw why He had decided the neccessity of it all, paid in blood and lives uncountable.

And yet she counted. It pained her to, counting not only the psykers given to bonfire that was the Astronomican, but those lost to war and pogrom, genocide, betrayal, and hatred. So much hatred. She saw the nations that had been rebuilding before the Emperor had forced Compliance, and how many could have built back the lost empires and federation of humanity, not as a single beast with a emperor deified, either in faith or reason, but the lost cultures and hopes of peoples across countless worlds. She counted them all, considered them all, and this, more than anything, became a new flame that burned bright in her chest, the lost harmonies finding a home within Thane Solcar.

Thane looked at the Emperor, what remained of the man upon a dying throne. And named him Demiurge, master of much but not all, wise but flawed, alive but dead. More hollow god then broken man. She left the mythology he'd created with the Imperium as its spiritual demesne, and took her own faith with her, seeking Nomos elsewhere. Thus she was found, strange and heretical notions buried deep, alone alive among thousands given in blood and spiritual sacrifice, the mark of the Aquila branded in gold upon her brow. The sanctity of the Emperor, it was decided, and all the better for it. A Rogue trader house, distant ancestor of the Solcars, had been seeking this one errant psyker. Perhaps there she could be made to serve the Emperor and all His great works.

[deskgirl]

I may as well write up my other AU idea. I’ve been sitting on this one for a while; I knew the foundation but not the direction it should go. I think I have it now.

It’s a time travel AU, but I haven’t seen this specific angle: a young man named Izzy finds himself thrown 300 years into the past and, whether he likes it or not, on course to become the historical figure he grew up reading about as a child—the infamous Izzy Hands. Can he escape his fate?

—

The idea is Izzy is a young man in present time. He grew up reading about pirates. He knows all their tales. He loves pirates and stories of adventure at sea.

The golden age of piracy is slightly less appealing when a freak storm dumps you 300 years in the past, though.

Izzy struggles to survive. He has nothing. His family is gone. He’s no one. Well no, that’s not quite right. Because he knows full well there’s a historical figure with his name and he knows almost everything that will happen to him. Which means he must, under any circumstances, avoid it.

He finds work, is enlisted or press-ganged into the navy, deserts and has to turn to crime, and finds himself in the company of the one man he feared running into: Edward Teach. Well that’s fine, so long as Ed never becomes Blackbeard, so long as Izzy doesn’t become his first mate, so long as they don’t become friends and sail together, maybe Izzy can circumvent fate.

Except they do become friends, he does help Ed become Blackbeard, and by the time Ed makes him first mate, he decides he can’t escape his future because it’s already set in stone. Or rather, ink.

Knowing what his future holds, Izzy leans into it. He lets the story play out. He accepts that this is just the way it’s going to go and it’s kind of nice to not wonder.

But then Stede enters the picture. He knows about this, too. Knows there’s no fighting it and yet he suddenly isn’t ready. He doesn’t want to lose Ed. He doesn’t want to see them all die. Maybe he can save them all from their fate if he can just get rid of Stede. Maybe the historians got some things wrong. Maybe there’s some fuckery involved. Right?

But the more Izzy fights his fate, the more he ensures it.

Here’s where things change a bit. I had the idea pre-season 2, before I knew the alternate history the show would create, so I went by the real accounts. Which means as far as Izzy knew, Stede Bonnet never catches up. He never finds Ed. So when he does show up, it flips everything Izzy believed on its ear, and he has to accept that either things can change or the historical accounts were wrong. Which means there’s hope. He can save himself. He can save them. That’s his turning point.

The idea ended with him taking Stede and Ed aside and explaining everything to them and telling them how they all die, and they realize it all sounds an awful lot like a fuckery (Blackbeard’s headless body swimming laps around the ship? Come on!) so they proceed to fake their deaths. It’s endcapped by Lucius becoming “Captain Charles Johnson” the author of “A General History of Pirates” and revealing to us that he intentionally wrote the accounts to support the fuckery and this is the “fate written in stone” that Izzy grew up reading.

.

That’s changed now that I’ve seen season 2, so here’s where my idea goes now:

By the time Ed is waving a gun around threatening the crew, Izzy is tired. He wants it to be over. He tries to circumvent fate one last time and end things on his terms. But that doesn’t take either so fuck it, he’s living. And so does Ed because he can’t die yet either can he? They’re going to be dragged kicking and screaming to the end of their final chapters. So. Whatever fate has planned, Izzy will take the path ahead of him one step at a time without worrying about what comes next. His fate is sealed, but the little things can change. The people whose lives he never read about in books can be spared. He can choose to live with what time he has left in the way he wants to.

He keeps that mantra up until he’s facing down Prince Ricky. He gives his speech as his own eulogy because he knows it is. He doesn’t know quite how it’ll happen, but Izzy Hands vanishes from history after this day and is declared dead by an author writing under a pseudonym (true facts, there’s still debate over Captain Charles Johnson’s identity), so he knows this is the day he dies.

And it happens. But he’s all right with it because he always knew, and he prefers going out on his feet while fucking over the British Empire with his family around him. Beats some cold, damp London gutter, right?

I could leave it there, and that wouldn’t be a terrible end, at least no worse than the show, but as a treat to myself, that’s not where it ends.

Because there’s a storm brewing overhead, not a clear sky like just hours ago. Purple lightning, echoing thunder, the sky starting to let loose just as Izzy says his last words. It’s familiar. Izzy welcomes the rain like an old friend and remembers the first time he was caught in a storm at sea in a little sailboat while daydreaming about pirates.

Then he’s in the forest. Again. He knows what’s about to happen. He knows Ricky is about to turn, to draw, to fire. There’s hardly any time at all. He shifts his weight to the right. The bullet catches a little farther to the left. The pain feels different.

He reaches out for Ed right away. They limp to the ship together. He’s laid down in the spot where he died—will die—may die again. He doesn’t know if he says all the right words in the right order this time, but he tries. He still wants Ed to hear them.

The thunder of his heart is different in his ears and it’s distracting. Stede is there this time, pressing on the wound and cursing him out, telling him that he doesn’t get to go out this way (parallels to Stede’s dream anyone?). Izzy grins through the pain and calls him a twat.

It all slips away again.

.

The crew is gathered around a pile of earth. They’re quiet and solemn. Stede plants a marker made of drift wood.

“Did we really have to have a funeral for the fuckin’ figurehead?” an irritable voice calls.

“It’s the spirit of the thing,” Stede objects. “He deserves a proper burial. And the Revenge can’t be the Revenge anymore, not if we’re going to avoid the navy. A headless unicorn kind of stands out, don’t you think?”

“Oh good, you do have a basic grasp of being inconspicuous,” Izzy calls from the back of a small cart, laid up against some sacks of food that need to be taken to “The Royal James,” as the ship has been renamed. “Just hurry up before the tide goes out. Or did you plan on running the ship aground yet again?”

“That was one time!”

.

As an epilogue, we skip ahead five years where we find Lucius in London, selling freshly printed copies of “Captain Charles Johnson’s” new book, “a General History of Pirates” and reassuring a customer that it’s all true from first-hand accounts while sharing a knowing look with Pete from across the print shop.

[skippyv20]

Do the Seals have to pay at the new gym?

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim here again with more questions about this state of the art, new 20,000 sq ft gym being promoted by the Navy SEAL Foundation called Warrior Fitness Program. There are other gyms with that name that charge each person monthly rates. I can’t find out how much Seal participants will have to pay or if they will be covered by the foundation that raises millions on their behalf.They say: On average, NSF currently invests over $1.9M per year in WFP. As we expand the program to the West Coast, we anticipate an increase of over $1M annually to our budget. East Coast attendees cost roughly $12K each. That amount will be around $16K for participants on the West Coast. Hundreds will attend the program annually. Warrior Fitness Program - Navy SEAL Foundation

Their website is filled with advertising products for sale. As a person learning more and more with Mr. Pilgrim, a Marine and Vietnam Vet, finding resources for him now, we know there are many many support programs for our veterans free of charge with in-house teams reaching out to us to hear what is available. Perhaps the facilities are not as new or glamourous, but the programs are not riding on their tired, sick shoulders, using them to make money. To see this foundation’s CEO, willingly team up with the infamous, worldwide notorious Harkle’s, screams some level of desperation. On their own site they say they are rated in the top 100% for foundations, showing lots of charts, fancy logos and numbers. Their slick page presence is not part of the USA Veterans group. This is outside the military and US government it seems to me as there is no US flag shown.

Why aren’t they worried about being Markled? Just Harry and his ILBW’s recent awful antics at other military events has been plastered all over the news. Something is off here…Rick Berman from Charities for Veterans in a recorded interview on their site, reports there are 63 charities using “Wounded Warrior” terminology. Check it out as he pretty much describes the Farchwell method to earn money. Over and out from a dreary Cape Cod.

Thank you for doing the research on this.  Very interesting, and much appreciated dear Pilgrim❤️

[harryandmeghansussex]

The Duke and Duchess for Archewell Foundation supported the opening of a Navy Seal training facility in San Diego, California last night.

[kuwtsussexes]

Prince Harry and Meghan, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex in San Diego | November 8, 2023

The Sussexes, along with Navy SEAL Foundation leaders, veterans and their families officially opened the Warrior Fitness Program West Coast Facility which aims to optimize human performance for warriors on the battlefield, transitioning to civilian life, or retired from service.

Read more here

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

now might be a good time to say the navy seal copypasta, muku. but change it up a bit for your experience as an ultimate solider.

I...don't think i know what you're talking about.

Hol' up. I gotcha buddy. AHEM!

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my game in Fenrir, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on the National Government, and I have over 9000 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top soldier in the entire Future Foundation. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Ultimate Despair and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

I would never say that. ANY of that.

Live a little biichh it's a joke!

[hazeltailofficial]

HOLIDAY FLASHBACK

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GETTING READY BLOG POST

Christmas Sparkle | Getting Ready

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[lonestarbattleship]

August 8, 2024 Update from the Battleship Texas Fountation

The ship is currently moored at Pier D in Gulf Copper Shipyard where it will continue to undergo repairs and preparations to become a museum ship once again.

PINE DECK REPAIRS: Workers are currently laying the pine deck on the ship's bow. Below is a breakdown of how this is done. Yes, Battleship Texas had a deck made up of mostly pine during the ship's service career.

The underlying steel deck has been repaired and made watertight with all existing studs removed and ground flush. Once welding has concluded in each area, the steel is properly coated.

4"x4" treated southern yellow pine deck planks are shaped and fitted to the deck then coated to protect against moisture. A Dolphinite Bedding Compound is applied to both the steel deck and bottom of the board prior to final installation. Boards are secured by studs which are welded to the steel deck during installation.

Plank and margin board seams are caulked using on strand of cotton caulking, three strands of oakum, and sealed with a marine sealant.

MEASURE 21: The ship is being painted in the Measure 21 camouflage scheme. All horizontal surfaces will be Deck Blue 20-B, and all vertical surfaces will be Navy Blue 5-N. Battleship Texas is only one of two battleships in a WWII camouflage scheme.

MAIN MAST: The ship's main mast has been primed and painted in Navy Blue 5-N. The radar top mast, along with its SG and SK, will be reinstalled to the main mast once repairs are complete.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

WHAT’S NEXT? - Battleship Texas will remain at Gulf Copper Shipyard while the ship’s new home in Galveston, Texas, is prepared. Additional steel work, replacement of the ship’s deck, further restoration, and painting will be done during this time.

TOURING? - The Battleship Texas Foundation will be offering touring options while the ship is in the shipyard. Participants will be able to view ongoing work and restoration or learn all about how the ship operated during its service career. Tours are expected to begin in late 2024.

REOPENING? - There is a lot to be done before the ship is ready for touring at its new home in Galveston, Texas. Reopening is projected to happen in the later half of 2025.

MISSING GUNS? - The ship's anti-aircraft guns are currently undergoing restoration. The guns and gun directors will be replaced once their restoration is complete.

Come on Texas!

To donate to the preservation and operation of Battleship Texas, please visit: battleshiptexas.org/

Support Battleship Texas by making a purchase through the ship's store: https://store.battleshiptexas.org

The ship is currently moored at Pier D in Gulf Copper Shipyard where it will continue to undergo repairs and preparations to become a museum ship once again.

The underlying steel deck has been repaired and made watertight with all existing studs removed and ground flush. Once welding has concluded in each area, the steel is properly coated.

Workers are currently laying the pine deck on the ship's bow. Below is a breakdown of how this is done. ne sealant.

MEASURE 21: The ship is being painted in the Measure 21 camouflage scheme. All horizontal surfaces will be Deck Blue 20-B, and all vertical surfaces will be Navy Blue 5-N. Battleship Texas is only one of two battleships in a WWII camouflage scheme.

Pictured is the ship's portside crane being painted Navy Blue 5-N.

Pictured is the ship's radar mast after being painted Navy Blue 5-N.

The ship's main mast has been primed and painted in Navy Blue 5-N. The radar top mast, along with its SG and SK, will be reinstalled to the main mast once repairs are complete.

The barbette of turret 4, and reverse of turret 5, are currently being sandblasted and await a primer."

Posted on the Battleship Texas Foundation Facebook page: link

[gunlovingpacifist]

Now I have to block you because people on the right celebrate ignorance and Mooch of blue states. Them gunz ain't gonna feed your family......

I have posed this question a few times and never get a response

.... 🤔

Here is why I am a liberal...

Why are you a Republican?

The 40-hour work week, and thus, weekends!

Overtime pay and minimum wage.

Paid Vacations.

Women’s Voting Rights

The Civil Rights Act of 1964

The right of people of all colors to use schools and facilities.

Public schools.

Public libraries

Public transportation

Public universities

Public broadcasting

Public police and fire departments

Worker’s rights

Labor safety and fairness laws

*Nixon gave us the EPA

Child-labor laws.

The right to unionize

Health care benefits

National Parks, Monuments, and Forests, “America’s Best Idea”

Interstate Highway System (Eisenhower (R) and Al Gore Sr. (D)

Safe food and drugs (via the FDA)

Social Security

NASA

The Moon Landing and other space exploration

Satellites

The Office of Congressional Ethics.

The Internet

National Weather Service

Product Labeling/Truth in Advertising Laws

Rural Electrification/Tennessee Valley Authority

Bank Deposit Insurance

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention

Consumer Product Safety Commission

Consumer Financial Protection Bureau

Rights of the disabled (via Americans With Disabilities Act)

Family and Medical Leave Act

Clean air and water (Clean Air Act, Clean Water Act, the Environmental Protection Agency).

Civilian Conservation Corps

Panama Canal

Hoover Dam

The Federal Reserve

Medicare/Medicaid

The United States Military

The FBI

The CIA

Peace between Israel and Egypt

Peace between Israel and Jordan

Veterans Medical Care

Federal Housing Administration

Extending Voting Rights to 18 year olds

Freedom of Speech

Freedom of Religion/Separation of Church and State

Right to Due Process

Freedom of The Press

Right to Organize and Protest

Pell Grants and other financial aid to students

Federal Aviation Administration/Airline safety regulations

The end of slavery in the USA (The Emancipation Proclamation, The 13th Amendment)

Unemployment benefits

Smithsonian Institute

Americorps

Mandatory Food Labeling

Peace Corps

United Nations

World Health Organization

The Lincoln Tunnel

Sulfur emissions cap and trade to eliminate acid rain

Earned Income Tax Credit

The banning of lead in consumer products

National Institute of Health

Garbage pickup/clean streets

Banning of CFCs.

LGBT rights

Expanded voting access via polling places

Erie Canal

Bailout — and thus continued existence — of the American Auto Industry

Lily Ledbetter Fair Pay Act

Established the basis for Universal Human Rights by writing the Declaration of Independence

Miranda Rights

Banning of torture

The right to a proper defense in court

An independent judiciary

The right to vote

Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act

Fair, open, and honest elections

The founding of The United States of America

The defeat of the Nazis and victory in World War II

Paramedics

Woman’s Right to Choose

The Civil Rights Movement

National Science Foundation

Vehicle Safety Standards

NATO

The income tax and power to tax in general, which have been used to pay for much of this list.

911 Emergency system

Tsunami, hurricane, tornado, and earthquake warning systems

The Freedom of Information Act

Water Treatment Centers and sewage systems

The Meat Inspection Act

The Pure Food And Drug Act

The Bretton Woods system

International Monetary Fund

SEC, which regulates Wall Street (weaked by conservatives)

National Endowment for the Arts

Campaign finance laws (weaked by conservatives)

Federal Crop Insurance

United States Housing Authority

School Lunch Act

Mental Retardation Facilities and Community Mental Health Centers Construction Act

Vaccination Assistance Act

The creation of counterinsurgency forces such as the Navy Seals and Green Berets.

Voting Rights Act, which ended poll taxes, literacy tests, and other voter qualification tests (weaked by conservatives)

The Brady Bill (5-day wait on handgun purchases for background checks)

Lobbying Disclosure Act

"Motor-Voter" Act

Civil Rights Act of 1968

Job Corps

Elementary and Secondary Education Act of 1965

Teacher Corps

Endangered Species Preservation Act of 1966

National Trails System Act of 1968

U.S. Postal Service

Modern Civilization

BIDEN WINS:

• Inflation Reduction Act

• CHIPS & Science Act

• PACT Act for veterans

• First major gun safety legislation in decades

• Took out the leader of al Qaeda

• Historic job growth (+12.8 million)

• Historically low unemployment

• Expanded the NATO alliance

• American Rescue Plan led to fastest jobs recovery in history

• Confirmation of Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson

• Rallied our allies in support of Ukraine

•Once-in-a-generation infrastructure investments

• Student loan forgiveness

• Rural broadband investment

In not a republican. I lean right on one issue. The second amendment. Why's that hard for leftists to comprehend

[ear-worthy]

MrBallen's Medical Mysteries Podcast: When Science Doesn't Have All The Answers

MrBallen's Medical Mysteries podcast has a clever premise, creates a creepy, strange world, and has a host who could scare people at campfires by telling lurid ghost stories.

It's like the podcast version of The X Files and Fringe, two TV shows where facts, truth, natural laws, and logical explanations have been excluded from our universe.

In effect, modern medicine has few if any answers for the phenomena detailed in the episodes of the podcast.

Consider the TV show The Resident. Through the Spring, I watched all six seasons of that medical drama based at Chastain Park Hospital in Atlanta. Almost every episode had a scene where resident Dr. Conrad Hawkins would be treating a patient with some illness impossible for any other physician to diagnose. Then Hawkins would say to the patient, "Were you ever in Borneo and stung by a greenish blue bug?"

The patient was astonished by this question and replies, "Yes, but how could you know that?"

Dr. Hawkins, trying his best not to gloat, would answer: "I think you were bitten by the pernicious vengeful boll weevil and need antibiotics."

Case solved, and almost every episode had a main or minor narrative about a patient with a condition so rare that the odds were greater than Donald Trump admitting that ingesting bleach could not cure COVID.

Fast-forward to MrBallen's Medical Mysteries, where no doctor can explain the medical mysteries that are featured every episode. I don't know if Dr. Hawkins from The Resident has refused to consult on these cases for fear of admitting, "I dunno," but the cases themselves are baffling.

A young woman comes home from studying in Ghana, ready to enjoy a relaxing summer. But soon, she starts experiencing horrifying nightmares – and finds herself on the verge of death. Seemingly out of nowhere, an otherwise healthy man’s body starts filling with a thick, lemon meringue-like liquid that is slowly drowning him in his own fluids. His family is terrified, both for him, and for themselves – because this mysterious disease might come for them too.

You get the idea. In some episodes, "a startling discovery" is made, and in others the mystery remains unsolved.

After listening to ten episodes, I checked my health insurance policy to see if I was covered for "unexplainable health conditions where the doctors have no friggin' idea what's wrong with me."

Here is Wondery's marketing pitch: "The human body is a miracle. But when it’s not working, it can be the stuff of nightmares. On this new series from master storyteller MrBallen, we’re sharing medical horror stories and diagnostic mysteries that are surgically calibrated to make your blood run cold." Wondery isn't done yet: "From bizarre, unheard-of diseases and miraculous recoveries to strange medical mishaps and unexplainable deaths — you’ll never hear the phrase “heart-stopping” in the same way again. MrBallen’s Medical Mysteries is a first-of-its-kind collaboration between MrBallen and Wondery."

MrBallen is actually John Allen, a former U.S. Navy SEAL. After graduating from the UMass Amherst, Allen visited a recruiting office in Quincy, Massachusetts and enlisted in the United States Navy, intending to become a Navy SEAL. Allen joined the SEAL Team Two in Virginia Beach in 2012.

During his service, he was deployed to Afghanistan and later South America. In 2014, his team was attacked in Afghanistan and a grenade hit Allen, with shrapnel impacting his hips, and legs. He recovered, and in 2017, Allen medically retired from the Navy, earning a Purple Heart. Allen started experimenting with TikTok the same year he started his YouTube channel in 2020. His first viral video was about the Dyatlov Group. The video gained 5 million views the same day it was posted, prompting him to make additional TikToks about other unsolved mysteries.

In 2022, Allen and his nonprofit organization, MrBallen Foundation, were nominated for the creator for Social Good Award.

In February 2022, Allen released MrBallen Podcast: Strange, Dark & Mysterious Stories.

Then, Wondery and Ballen Studios, Allen’s content company, struck a major first-look and distribution deal with Amazon Music last year. Taking on a similar fascination for mysterious circumstances as the original MrBallen Podcast: Strange, Dark and Mysterious, which moved over to Amazon Music last November and has topped the company’s podcast charts, MrBallen's Medical Mysteries show began, diving into stories of unexplainable deaths, unknown diseases and miraculous recoveries, with about 50 episodes recorded and released.

Mr. Allen's entrepreneurial spirit, solid business sense, excellent hosting skills, and creativity have made MrBallen's Medical Mysteries a certified podcast hit. For listeners who enjoy these mysteries and unexplained phenomena, this show is candy for a sugar snacker.

People have always enjoyed this genre of show. Remember Beyond Belief: Fact Or Fiction with Jonathan Frakes as host. The show ran for seven years, and was revived in Germany three years ago, with Frakes still as narrator.

Like Frakes and Robert Stack from Unsolved Mysteries, Mr. Allen is adept at amping up the mystery, creepiness factor, and darkness, building a strange, abnormal world that can captivate listeners.

The true master at this genre, however, is Aaron Mahnke of the Lore podcast. What makes Mahnke so good as the host of Lore is that he doesn't try too hard, mugging for the podcast mic. He doesn't try to sound extra creepy, with false intonations or tonal changes in his voice. Instead, Mahnke allows the excellent script, creepy, plaintive piano background music, and the listeners' own imagination do the work. There's studied patience to his voice that never betrays an urge to "get to the good stuff." No, instead, Mahnke prefers to construct his mood carefully, cautiously, and completely.

So Aaron Mahnke doesn't have one of those voices that alone can scare the heck out of you. But he doesn't need to. Mahnke is a world builder by being a word builder. He uses all the tools to gradually draw you into his macabre world of sonic darkness. As a listener, you don't even know you're knee-deep in it until it's too late.

Check out MrBallen's Medical Mysteries. The show carves out a well-entrenched niche for itself in this genre. Josh Allen is an excellent host and these strange tales don't disappoint. The episodes are appropriately timed -- about 35 minutes -- and everything from the creepy background music to the narrative prowess makes the show ear-worthy.

A word of advice: Before listening to these episodes, you may want to schedule an appointment with your primary care physician for your annual exam.

[bobguz]

Trump shooting: Dan Bongino says Secret Service acted in 'grade school p...

Dan Bongino, a former Secret Service Agent, will be one of three to testify at the forum, along with Erik Prince, a former Navy SEAL officer, and Ben Shaffer, a Washington regional SWAT operator. Bongino will record the special edition of his podcast from The Heritage Foundation, also the site for the forum. Reps. Cory Mills (R-FL) and Eli Crane (R-AZ). Mills and Crane will be joined by Reps. Andy Biggs (R-AZ), Chip Roy (R-TX), and Matt Gaetz (R-FL) in the independent investigation.