#more than one vet i know regrets extending their military service

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

"Oh. Hi." Blades said, inching awkwardly towards the scary, scarred up bot currently sitting on the steps of the courthouse. "Uh, well, you see, you kinda can't have open engex here? It's not safe for the humans."

"Uh. Cool. Yeah, I will put a safety cap on." The bot grabbed a cap and straw out of his ragged duffel bag and twisted it on. Have a good one, officer...?"

"EMT Blades, but no, I just drew the short straw. At least you're nice? Are you staying here?"

The bot smiled, relaxing from his easy-going but cautious mood. "Yeah, I will be looking for work later on. Just wanted to watch people. You don't mind me using the stairs as a seat? I didn't see anywhere else I could rest for a moment. I'm Rattlegun, and i have a microcon named Squeak around here somewhere. Trust me, i don't like the name either, but he likes, and that's what matters. "

Blades noticed that Rattlegun's arms were covered in scratched engravings, scars that never quite matched in age. There were some dress paint, fresh from his retirement ceremony, including several for exemplary service and extended contracts. Blades wondered if it hurt to get them done. He just had to ask. "Did it hurt getting the engravings done?"

"Yeah, no worse than the autobrand, though. Better than engex after a battle, am I right? Huh, wait, no, you look too well fed. You must be someone recovered from some stasis pod somewhere."

"Yep. You got me. Ran into a sparkeater, had to rush into stasis, no time to signal for help."

"Eh, you didn't miss much." Rattke gun though for a minute. "A war, a couple genocides, war crimes, collapse of civilization, and the death of the planet. You're lucky you missed it, really. This town is nice. Got any recommendations for a warehouse rental and a local construction or shipping company looking for labor?"

"Unfortunately, no. Griffin Rock is too small for big construction. Try the docks? Warehouses are hard to get. Land is expensive here. You are better off renting a space in the underground overnight parking next to the courthouse until you save up a little nest egg to buy a more dilapidated one and just get some permits to rebuild it. I know that my buddies, Heatwave and Chase, can make sure everything is up to code and won't be a hazard to the humans, and my friend Boulder and I could help with construction. Also, thank you for your service. "

"Eh, to be honest, joining the army branch of the Autobots wasn't the greatest life decision. But at least we eventually won in the end." Rattlegun chuckled, and Blades flinched as the plating on Rattlegun's throat vibrated and shook. "You wh-eh-wanna get out, buddy?"

Rattlegun cleared his intake before lifting his hand towards his mouth, opening it as far as it can go, and coughing as a microcon the size of Cody climbed out of Rattlegun's throat. "Blades, this is my microcon friend Squeak. Squeak, this is medic Blades. Be nice to him. He seems to be good people, and we need to keep some of those." Squeak, well, squeaked, in that high pitched cybex that was just barely out of Blades's audible range without his translator.

"You better treat my amica right, medic. I'm watching you."

"Squeak, I promise Rattlegun will find nothing but allies here. You got an alt mode that's comfortable for the night? I can pay for parking? As a measure of thanks for your service, I noticed your exemplary service markings."

Rattlegun gave Blades a strained smile, fed up with hearing about the worse mistake he had made in his life yet again being framed as his greatest honor. "That would be lovely. It's getting late, I'm getting tipsy, and the walk isn't getting any shorter. Let's get going."

Blades paid for the parking spot, and Rattlegun folded into his humvee alt mode, his military badges morphing into bumper stickers proclaiming him a proud veteran. Squeak settled into the driver's seat, and the two of them settled in for the night, hoping to find work in the morning.

[creativeashproductions]

Connection // Scott McCall

Summary: Meeting someone after losing your first husband wasn’t something you anticipated especially with someone incredibly important in your life. Yet you heart seems to grow when you meet the man wise beyond his years and so safe to be around.

Characters: Scott McCall x Reader, Ellie Todd (OFC) x mother!reader, Jeremy Todd (OMC), Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale (mentioned) and Melissa McCall (mentioned)

Words: 2393

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters that appear in this. This is an AU where the show is not supernatural but just fucked up a little. I also don’t own the gifs, images, or lyrics that may appear.

Warnings: Swearing, father!Scott, mention of death, angst and a shit ton of fluff

Author: Caitsy

A/N: You seemed to love Blessing in Disguise so I thought why not more Scott fluff?

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When you were sixteen you met the love you your life Jeremy and you knew he was the one you would marry. He was two years older than you at eighteen years old and he was wonderful. Jeremy treated you like royalty and always ensure you knew he loved you even when he was doing basic training. He was a military soldier as his father and grandfather were.

It was your mother who told Jeremy that if you two decided to marry young she would stand behind you guys. You were engaged three months before your eighteen birthday and when you got news he was being deployed you marathon planned everything. You were married a day after your eighteen birthday.

“Are you scared?” You asked leaning against him in his classic car. He looked down with a soft smile.

“No. I’m never scared when I think of you.” He whispered pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, “I love you.”

“I would hope so.” You murmured playing with his wedding band.

“There’s nothing that will keep me from you.” Jeremy sighed cuddling with you closer, “Do you want to head home?”

Jeremy was twenty-one with enough money for a small apartment in your small city of Greendale. It was a life you loved whether you lived in a large house or a small apartment. You spent the last two days passionating showing your love in bed. Then you were at the airport sending him off.

“I’ll send you a letter when I get there.” Jeremy whispered kissing you. His plane was called and that was when you started to cry, “Get your degree. I know you want it and you need someone so you don’t get thinking constantly of this.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The first week was hard enough with not knowing where he or when he would be home. You never fully realized how hard it was being married to a soldier until he was deployed. By the third week you were sick enough your mom took you to the doctor and you received the heartbreaking news.

“You’re pregnant.” Dr. O’Carrol spoke reading the chart.

You were in shock. You hadn’t planned to be pregnant before you got your degree but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You send an image of the sonogram the week of your third month and Jeremy called that very night excited behind belief. You already talked about the nursery colours and even the names you would like. It was great until it wasn’t.

You were at your parents having lunch when them when the doorbell rang throughout the house. You mom answered it before two men in military dress handed you the letter as you sat.

Mrs. Todd, We deeply regret to inform you that your husband Private First Class Jeremy Elliot Todd was killed in action in active duty in his performance of his duty and in the service of his country.

The department extends to you its sincerest sympathy in your great loss.

Sincerely,

General John W. Smith

You were in complete shock as the news raced in your mind. You couldn’t help but think of Jeremy’s cold eyes as his laid bleeding unable to ever hold you daughter. Nothing made sense and it hurt so bad. You didn’t think you would ever heal from this.

You gave your daughter Elliot a swift hug before you climbed to your feet to go into the university. You waited until she was two years old before you committed yourself to getting your degree. You worked your ass off before selling the apartment before moving to the small town of Beacon Hills. You couldn’t live in a place you saw Jeremy’s memory everywhere.

“Mama.” Ellie sighed snuggling closer. You sighed breathing in her blonde curls that matched her Dad’s hair. She was the female version of her father with your eyes and nose.

“Have fun with grandma beautiful.” You whispered kissing her head.


“Mama! Love you!” Ellie giggled when your mom’s arm swiftly pulled her into her arms.

“Have a good day sweetheart.” Your mom said smiling as you picked up your bag.


“Ellie’s allergic to strawberries and she needs music when you put her down-“ You began listing off the necessities.

“I know.” Your mom chuckled with a grin, “I’ve looked after her before.”


“I’m just nervous.” You admitted shifting uncomfortably.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll call if someone is wrong and we’ll wait for lunch for your call also.”

You took in a deep breathe before moving towards the entrance with a determination to get an education for Ellie. Everything you did was for Ellie since her father passed away and that wouldn’t change ever. She was the sole reason you were able to move on but never get away.

“Sorry.” A boy said as he bumped into you.


“My fault.” You replied drinking in his expression wiser than his years brown eyes. You always thought brown eyes were the boring colour of them all but you didn’t think that when you were looking in his eyes.

“I’m Scott McCall.”

“Y/N Todd.” You smiled glancing at his textbook, “Your wanting to be a vet?”



“Yeah! I love animals.” Scott chuckled, “What about you.”

You explained your love of a degree without mentioning the little girl you had waiting for you. You didn’t want the typical judgment that changed further into disbelief when they learnt you married so young. You hated it even if you loved your life to bits.

You began a study group with Scott that turned into hangouts when you were able to and soon it turned to dinner. Until one night your mom called during a hangout that you were reluctant to admit was a date.

“Sorry.” You murmured silencing your phone sitting next to your milkshake.

“No problem.” Scott chuckled.

“Tell me more about this Stiles-“ You were cut off by your phone again, “Let me check this out.”

“Y/N, thank god you answered. I’m taking Ellie to the hospital, I picked her up from her friends house and she can’t breath!”

Your face paled violently as you struggled to grab your things and rush out completely forgetting about Scott and your lack of car. You swore up and down when you saw that.

“Shit. I have to call a cab.” You grunted before a hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Scott holding both his and your jackets concerned about you.

“Can you drive me to the hospital?” You rushed earning both a concerned look and an approval nod.

He started up the beat up car before driving towards the hospital and your sick daughter. You couldn’t believe you let your feelings for Scott get in the way. How could you be a parent and date?

“Where’s Ellie?” You called as you caught sight of your mother. You barely noticed Scott racing after you.

“Sweetheart.” You mom sighed as you ran full force into her arms, “They’re doing tests but she somehow drank strawberry juice and she was saying she was sick this morning. She had a low fever but they’re concerned it’s meningitis.”

“Where’s the doctor?”

“Looking at Ellie.”

“Who’s Ellie?”

“This must be the man that’s been keeping you.” Your mother smirked.


“Don’t worry it won’t be going further.” You mumbled, “I can’t be selfish when I had Ellie.”

You saw the doctor coming with a smile as she guided you to the room where Ellie was playing with a teddy bear. She beamed when she saw you but wasn’t able to speak just yet.

“Oh baby.” You sighed running your hand over her curly haired bed. You sat holding her hand.

“Honey. Be selfish.” Your mom whispered into your ear, “You deserve to be happy. Jeremy would want you to be happy and he would approve of Scott.”

“Ellie I have someone I want to introduce to you.” You whispered to the curious girl, “Scott this is my daughter Elliot. Ellie this is mommy’s friend Scott.”

You bit your lip getting lipstick on it as Scott knelt by the bed where Ellie was watching him inquisitively. Scott leaned up to whisper something in her ear while she giggled in response in the adorable way she had done since she began to giggle. Ellie let your hand go to hold his instead.

When Ellie fell asleep you left the room to grab a drink when you felt a presence stepped up beside you and you knew this was the moment he would leave. No man wants to be with someone with a little kid and a dead spouse.

“How old is she?”

“Two.”

“Where’s her dad?” Scott asked.

“I was married at eighteen and Jeremy was deployed before I learnt we were going to have a baby. He was twenty-one and when I was in my third month the letter was delivered. I lost my husband before our first wedding anniversary came.” You bitterly smiled, “I decided I would name our baby after her father whether it be a girl of boy. I named her Elliot Todd and she’s my dear little girl.”

“She’s beautiful. Like her mom.”

“She looks like her Dad.” You chuckled playing with the wedding bands hanging from your neck.

“I want you to know that I’m in for the long haul and we’ll go as slow as you want.”

“Strawberries.” You sighed.

“What?”

“Elliot is allergic to strawberries. It’s why I never eat them and it’s because I never want to put her in danger.”

“No strawberries allowed. I’ll give them to…someone that likes them.” Scott mumbled to himself. You looked over surprised at his comment before he clarified, “Well if she approves of me I would very much like to have you both in my life. Strawberries aren’t mandatory in my life.”

Your smile slowly built as you realized how you underestimated the man in front of you. You would do anything to see him smile and having him in your way was the way to do that. Shifting back to the hospital room you smiled when Ellie sighed in her sleep holding onto the teddy in her arms.

“I’m going to eat you!” Scott growled from the living room where Ellie was playing in.

“No!” Ellie screeched in all her three year old glory.

The minute you got out of the hospital the journey with Scott developed very much at the right pace and now that Ellie was turning four soon you decided to fully commit. Ellie was referring to Scott as her father even if she knew had a father in heaven already but there was a connection between Scott and her. When Scott told you about his other…responsibilities in Beacon Hills you were hesitant at first.

“Go brush your teeth.” Scott chuckled rubbing his hand through her hair.

“But Daddy!” Ellie whined.

“Elliot Todd!” Scott reprimanded her pointing a stern finger at her, “Two minutes and not a second less. Do you understand?”

“Sorry Daddy.” Ellie mumbled halfheartedly kicking invisible dust bunnies.

“Ellie speak up.” You gently prodded while she did as told and turned to go upstairs, “If your good and only then will we take you to the park.”

The little scampering feet up the stairs was testament to what she was doing her best to be allowed for the trip. Scott had told you many stories of how the pack came here often before Derek Hale moved away. Derek gifted it to Scott during the summers without inquiring why because well nobody but Melissa knew about you and Ellie.

“I love her.” Scott smiled wrapping his arms around your waist, “Almost more than you.”

“Oh shush.” You chuckled tensing when you felt Scott moving something onto your finger. You slowly glanced down to see a beautiful simplistic ring adorning your wedding finger, “Scott?”

“When I was a Sophomore my mom told me how to tell a girl I loved her. I don’t think I have to with you because you know I love you with how I kiss you in the morning without brushing our teeth, how I will swallow your terrible scrambled eggs, how I love your daughter like she was my own. I hope I only have to ask if you’ll be mine forever.”

“Yes.” You whispered turning to kiss his lips as he cradled your face.

“Did you ask Daddy?” Ellie questioned from the top of the stairs.

“Elliot Todd that was not two minutes and you know it!” Scott huffed climbing them to swing her into his arms, “We’ll brush them together.”

“Park?”

“Only because she said yes.” Scott teased continuing up the stairs. “Ready to go honey?” Scott asked holding Ellie’s backpack in his hand with all her snacks. You hummed while walking the short distance to the park. You took advantage of the summer days as much as you could while waitressing.

You swing your little girl between you until Scott tenses hearing a familiar voice behind him.

“Yo! Scotty!”

You turned to see an oddly spastic male running towards you with a grin that turned confused when he stopped short.

“What the h-“

“Stiles shut up!” Scott hissed while Ellie danced not paying attention to anything, “Don’t swear.”

“Um…kid…you…her…what?” Stiles spluttered eyes dancing between the three people in front of him.

“Hello Stiles. I’m Y/N and this is my daughter Ellie.” You said holding your hand out. Stiles slowly shook it suspicious of the entire situation.

“Hello?”

“Stiles this is my fiancée Y/N and our daughter Ellie.”


“Engaged? What the fu…dge?!” Stiles exclaimed earning the little girls attention.

“Look I lost my first husband before Ellie was born and I didn’t want to place in into an environment with many people that could potentially not be in her life a week months later.”

“Okay. Totally doing a background check on you but okay.” Stiles slowly nodded looking at the blonde little girl looking up in her oddly retro looking clothing, “Hey Ellie. I’m Uncle Stiles.”

“Hi.” Ellie shyly said moving towards him, “Do you like that cool movie ‘bout stars? It has a dog man in it!”

“Chewbacca.” Stiles chuckled nodding.

“Yeah Bacca!” Ellie squealed hurriedly grabbing his hand, “Come on Uncle Stiles! Let’s go play Star Bacca!”

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By David William Pear. Originally published at OpEdNews.com

The Central Intelligence Agency, the Democrats, neocons in the Republican Party and the Main Stream Media (MSM) have gotten under Donald Trump's thin skin. When attacked, Trump's instinct is to lash out at his attackers with counter attacks, without regard to his truthfulness or not. When Trump was a candidate for President that meant a war of words. As the President of the United States of America he has resorted to a dangerous and deadly shooting war of aggression.

Trumps critics are so numerous, unrelenting and persistent that like a cornered rat, Trump lost any sanity that he may have possessed and instead of lashing out at his tormentors, he lashed out at Syria's president Bashar al-Assad. Just like a drunk that comes home and beats his wife, terrorize his children, busts up the furniture and kicks the dog it accomplished nothing but chaos, but it feels so good to blow off some steam, even if it is at the wrong target.

Now Trump has a lot of damage to repair and it will take more than a night in the drunk tank to patch up the mess he has made. It is probably beyond redemption. Worse is that like an alcoholic there is no cure for someone drunk with power. Predictably Trump will continue with his unpredictable binges on which he prides himself. The world will now be walking on eggshells waiting for Trumps next irrational outburst.

Trump is not the only insane actor. The MSM has gone crazy with fake news, a phrase they will regret ever inventing. Not one MSM source paused in their war rant to even question the propaganda fed to it by the CIA (a shorthand abbreviation for the Deep State of 16 and counting intelligence agencies and police state goons). Readers are encouraged to correct the record if they know of even one MSM sources that had a serious debate of the few known facts of Assad's alleged chemical weapon attack on Syria's Idlib Province.

Today, April 10, 2017 the New York Times (NYT) is still busy pumping out propaganda: "The Grim Logic Behind Syria's Chemical Weapons Attack ", but instead of a logical discussion the NYT calls on clairvoyants to read Assad's mind. To paraphrase the conclusion, Assad is just plan evil, he loves to kill his own people, especially children and babies.

The NYT goes on that Assad wants to thumb his nose and show "the world the West's impotence and weakness", especially at this time of Assad's victory. The NYT concludes that Assad was taking a victory lap in preparation for retaking Idlib back from the West after losing it in 2015 to "a mix of Qaeda-linked and other rebels, some supported by the United States and its allies". Note that after all these years of the MSM pretending that the US was supporting "well-vetted moderates" and pooh-poohing as fake news that the US was supporting al-Qaeda, the NYT admits that the US has been behind "Qaeda-linked and other rebels" the whole time.

So according to the MSM, Assad just threw away a diplomatic solution being hammered out in Brussel (Supporting the future of Syria and the region) that would end the so-called civil war, leaving him in power and giving him billions of dollars in aid to rebuild Syria. As I write now, Lt. Colonel Ralf Peters, a military hack for Fox News, is screaming that Assad would rather "continue the war against his own people and that Trump did exactly the right thing". The MSM would have us believe that Assad just could not resist his thirst for the blood of "his own people" over several billions of dollars in foreign aid.

The MSM just cannot stop spinning its web of lies and cheerleading the USA into more illegal wars of aggression, war crimes and crimes against humanity. The American people could use some clairvoyants of their own to tell us what is on the mind of the MSM in their perpetual warmongering propaganda.

The MSM's groupthink is mind numbing. Do they have any sense of responsibility and the consequences of their propaganda? War propaganda like a rung bell cannot be unrung. It has a lasting effect that will pave the way for more enemies, more war and more death.

The Democratic Party apparatchiks keep egging Trump on, purely for their own political ambitions. Instead of legitimately attacking Trump on his policies and lack thereof, they have found that further demonizing the nuclear armed Russian Federation and its president Vladimir Putin has legs. Russia has been universally declared an enemy nation by the Democrats, and anybody, i.e. Trump and his associates, that has ties, however slight, to Russia, or even conversations, must be an unpatriotic stooge, accomplice and spy.

Trump has been accused by the Democrats and their faithful media of having a "man crush" on Putin and being Putin's puppet. One of Trump's few positive populist campaign agendas was to improve relations and work with Russia to solve common problems. Peaceful relations with Russia struck a chord not only with Trump fans but also many anti-war liberals and progressives.

The Democratic diehard Clinton backers turned peace with Russia on its head and made it treason. A ray of light from the years of dark propaganda against Russia has been extinguished. The dark shadow of a war with Russia now looms over the world. The neocons in both the Democratic Party and Republican Party are loving it. War profiteers continue to party just as Trump was about to take away their punchbowl. The endless flow of unaccounted for money continues to pour out of the Pentagon into the pockets of profiteers.

Donald Trump has taken the fight to some big enemies: the MSM, CIA, neocons, liberal interventionists, the military industrial complex, and he even stuck his finger in Israel's eye until he thought better and backed off. That list of enemies and some others such as the banks, oil companies, monopolies, and oligarchs make up a large part of the Deep State.

Trump may be the first president in a long time that was not a full-fledged member of the Deep State. Trump is learning the hard way what Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) warned him, or was it a threat: "Let me tell you: You take on the intelligence community -- they have six ways from Sunday at getting back at you."

Unless Trump is a complete dummy he knows that he was had by the Deep State with the false flag of "Assad has used weapons of mass destruction, again!" But he is loving all the attention, admiration and faux respect. He does not know that the Deep State is laughing at him, not with him. Trump was played like a violin as he sinks deeper into the swamp he said he would drain.

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David William Pear is an unpaid Senior Editor for OpEdNews (OEN). All of his articles and comments are his own, and are not the responsibility of, or reflect the editorial opinion of OEN. David is a progressive columnist writing on economic, political and social issues. He is a regular columnist and commenter on OEN. His articles have been published by The Real News Network, Truth Out, Consortium News, Russia Insider, Pravda and many other progressive publications. David has a Bachelor of Science degree in economics from the University of Maryland and attended classes at George Washington University to receive his Certified Financial Planner certification. He also attended courses at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania for his certification as a Certified Investment Management Analyst (CIMA). He is active in social issues relating to peace, race relations, homelessness and equal justice. David is a member of Veterans for Peace, St Pete for Peace, CodePink and International Solidarity Movement. In February of 2015 he was part of a people-to-people delegation to Cuba with CodePink. In November of 2015 he was a delegate with CodePink to Palestine to show solidarity with Palestinians. In 2016 David spent 10 weeks in Palestine with the Palestinian lead non-violent resistance group International Solidarity Movement (ISM). David frequently makes extended trips to Russia as a private citizen. After retiring from finance in 2009, David earned a certification as an Emergency Medical Technician. He has volunteered for public health service, humanitarian assistance, disaster relief, emergency medicine and needs of the homeless. His hobbies include boating, fishing and motorcycle touring. He is also a licensed skydiver (USPA-inactive).

David is a Vietnam veteran having served as a member of the 5th Special Forces Group as a combat advisor to the Army of the Republic of (South) Viet Nam. David resides with his wife and three cats in Clearwater Beach, Florida.

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