#riot division

[swdefcult]

[ourladyofomega]

📸 source: Kill Rock Stars (FB)

[saucy-cake]

Day 18 • Conventional Weapons

MCR • Inktober

Boy Division

[akkivee]

the tonal shift in this dt preview is taking me out lmao ichijiku got some good news about otome’s whereabouts and was just about to go find nemu to share the good news, that nemu had been right about that the person needs to come back on their own terms, and the two of them talk about the answers they’ve been trying to find within themselves it’s a really nice moment between them

and then the conversation shifts to how they intend to deal with a group of insurrectionists helmed by someone named youei namini (??) who has even more radical views than otome is gaining traction on becoming the newest prime minister—

[transingthoseformers]

SG DJD Laywers yess!

Now I'm gonna remind you, this idea came about at two am. And also all i know about the legal process is from us-gov/history classes and soap opera-esque books/shows. So basically nothing.

[rennarita]

Mustafa Ali announced for the cover of PWI magazine

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

This is a poll blog that asks the question…could your favorite fictional character be a pro wrestler? Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[isaacsapphire]

"the summer 2020 uprisings were able to happen because enough people, for a brief moment, were freer than they had ever been in this fucking evil country"

Does an outbreak of freedom normally result in riots? Or is it the opposite, where a lack of freedom, an abrupt crackdown, or lockdown, is reacted to?

This feels like a "likes to charge, reblogs to cast" post attempting to manifest something rather than a descriptive post.

no, i do not believe this level of delusion about the pandemic being “over” is sustainable. i have noticed people behaving in ways they never would have before c19, like they know deep down that things are not OK and they’re scared. international travel, huge parties, etc. i don’t know. i guess i’ve been surprised and disappointed by mass human cruelty and indifference before but i really do believe there will be a tipping point. once activists can catch their fucking breath? maybe? it took 10 years of AIDS before ACT UP took to the streets. i don’t want to wait 10 years. i’ll push as hard as i fucking can but unfortunately i’m close to bed-bound by long covid at the moment. i do not want to die. c19 activism feels like a tipping point for climate change action, anticapitalist action, and abolition action. this can be a radicalizing moment. they made the US slightly more accessible for a MINUTE and then yanked it away but we *saw* it. we saw it!!!!!!!!!! efforts to squash c19 precautions go hand-in-hand with squashing anti-police protests: they know that the summer 2020 uprisings were able to happen because enough people, for a brief moment, were freer than they had ever been in this fucking evil country. when people are given resources, they give a shit. cops were the only maskless faces in the streets of minneapolis and that is not a coincidence. the old world is fucking scared and wants you to get sick and die. c19 deaths keep climbing, your yard is burning or flooding or bogged down by smoke, cops have killed more people each year since 2020. that’s the “normal” everybody is trying to convince you it’s sooooo fun to go back to. fuck off. fuck off. there will be a crack and we will kick it open

[swdefcult]

[apparently-artless]

defense force 3rd division being such a total riot (￣▽￣)

[maximumgreenbeans]

Not my stupid little writer brain trying to tell me Colin is going to get outted next episode.

All I'm saying is Rule of 3; Colin's been accidentally found out twice now and thankfully it's ended up fairly well after both, rule of 3 though states they're going to fuck with that. So if they do rule of 3 it (which I'm not saying they will but they literally spent the last 3 season's doing it with Rebecca's yearly truth bomb, so...) there's no other way it can go. Or at least no other way I can think of it going.

Now I fully could be wrong, like I do have a habit of over analysing plot beats (proven time and time again by the discussions I have about the plays I usher for) but the writers are extremely smart so I don't think it's too outrageous to think they'll go down this route.

And yeah, Colin's arc has been really good so far, and in a nice place to leave it but at the same time it feels like there's still more to come, like they haven't quite rounded it off yet. So there's a chance we're building to this.

Anyway yeah, could be spouting absolute bullshit here but writer brain hath gifted me thoughts

[natalievoncatte]

1. Leaves

Lena was, in all honesty, having the time of her life. Since they’d arrived here, she had finally relaxed. Really relaxed. Lex was gone. Capital-G Gone. The last of Cadmus had been mopped up. The Conpany was no longer a problem- L-Corp was being sold off, from entire divisions down to sales of old office chairs. The Estate and nine-tenths of the family holdings were all being sold off, and the money quietly funneled into a holding company. Sam Arias would manage Lena’s wealth.

Lena had nothing to do anymore, and it was glorious. She’d done what she’d never done in her entire life: rest. She ate when was hungry, slept when she was tired. She stayed up late finishing a thriller novel she’d grabbed off one of Kara’s tables and slept it off the following day. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, so one day she said, “Let’s go watch the leaves change.”

“Not much of that in National City,” Kara had said, not looking up from her laptop.

Lena was flipping channels when she made the suggestion, another pedestrian activity that had been too far beneath her to ever indulge during her CEO days.

“I’m serious,” said Lena. “I’ll rent us a cabin, book a flight, and we’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Vermont, or maybe New Hampshire.”

Kara looked up. “I could just fly us.”

“Short distances only,” said Lena.

Kara weighed it for a moment. She looked at Lena for a drawn out instant, eyes darting this way and that. Lena knew she had a deadline; she had become privy to the details of Kara’s life ever since she started couch surfing at Kara’s place after dumping her chic penthouse on some petroleum heir from the Emirates.

She had been “crashing” at Kara’s place for three months and had her own key, but they weren’t talking about it. Lena had remained on the couch, falling asleep to YouTube videos of molten lava and cat purring sounds, while Kara puttered around the house.

There were moments of tension. Pauses during shared meals. Moments when they pressed closed on sofa, times when Kara got up to go to bed and Lena felt this yearning to follow that she never quite obeyed.

Kara was thinking. Hard.

“Rent a cabin?”

“Yeah, someplace remote. So you can take a break. You’ve been working harder than ever, Darling. It almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

Kara swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll fly. The regular way.”

They did, arriving in Maine less than a day later. Lena rented a Land Rover (because they were on an Adventure) and did all the driving, three hours from the airport to the cabin.

Kara rode in silence, though Lena heard her gasp.

The trees were beautiful. They were alive with color, as if an impressionist master had made the world a canvas and run riot. It was more than a mass of reds and yellows and oranges. It was astonishing.

It was dark when they arrived at the cabin. Lena had chosen one with two bedrooms, though she hesitated when she did. It had a full kitchen with a gas stove and all the amenities but also a fire pit and picnic table and gazebo, and overlooked a private swath of a small lake. It was like something out of a Bob Ross painting.

They were both tired from the flight, or at least Lena was, and turned in right away. When she rose the next day, she cheerily told her cabin-mate she was headed into town to get some supplies.

Kara went out to chop wood. Lena, of course, watched a few swings before leaving. Kara didn’t really need an axe but Lena didn’t care; she was preoccupied watching the muscles of Kara’s shoulders and back as she swung the splitting maul.

Lena got back before noon and carried the groceries inside, enough for her to use the fancy kitchen to prepare a mighty feast for her companion.

She didn’t hear the sobs until she had most of it put away. Lena bolted to the back door and stopped.

Kara was sitting on the picnic table, feet resting on the long board that acted as a seat. She was holding a single golden leaf on her hand, studying it and sobbing softly to herself.

“Kara?”

She looked up, soft blue eyes wet with tears. Lena felt a wave of grief but also panic, rushing to the table.

“Kara, what’s wrong?”

“I,” Kara started. “Lena, I’m scared.”

Lena swallowed hard. “Why?”

Kara looked at the leaf. “Another year past. The leaves turn colors and fall, school starts, things change.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Alex is married now. They’ve got a kid to raise. Nia and Brainy will probably get married soon. We hadn’t had a game night in two months.”

Lena swallowed. Kara was right. When Lena had first joined, then rejoined, this wonderful found family had been aggressively social, and now they forgot to text as often as not. They all spent more time at home or at their real jobs than at the Tower. The world had just started moving on. Kara didn’t even wear the cape every day anymore.

“I know,” said Lena, her voice thick. “But you’ve got me.”

Lena felt her pulse start to race. Kara had been so distant, she couldn’t help wonder if she was enough. If boring, retired Lena wasn’t enough. Oh God, what if Kara was thinking about going to Argo? Or the future?

“Not forever,” said Kara, her voice cracking like glass. She let the leaf drop from her fingers. “Eventually you’ll go. All of you. Brainy, Nia, Alex, Clark if he doesn’t come back from Argo. You.”

“Oh,” Lena said, softly. “Oh, Kara.”

“I think I might be immortal,” Kara whispered. “I don’t feel any aches or pains. Nothing about me changes. I don’t forget things like people do. My body just keeps repairing itself and it never makes any mistakes. What if I’m just like this forever? Or even a thousand years? What if everyone is gone and their kids are gone and no one knows who I am anymore?!” she was frantic now, the words coming too fast.

Lena reached out, tentatively. She put her hands on Kara’s shoulders and pulled herself in, wrapping her best friend in a hug.

Birds chirped, the waters of the lake made soft glug-glugs, and all around them was the soft tapping sound of the leaves, already letting go.

“I won’t leave you,” Lena whispered. “Kara, I won’t. If I have to live forever I will. I’ll find a way. Tech, magic, fifth dimensional imps. I’ll find a way.”

Kara sighed, arms firmly around her.

“Do you need space?” Lena asked. “I could leave you alone for a bit. Look for a place when we get back, so I’m not on the couch all the time.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kara blurted, almost cutting her off. “I know I’ve been distant, it’s just… I keep looking at you and thinking about all the time I’ve lost and all the mistakes I’ve made and how I’ll regret it forever. We have so little time and I’m so scared I’ll lose you.”

Lena pulled back to look at her. “We have a long time to make more memories. As many as we can.”

“I’ll lose you too,” said Kara. “I know you want more. A family, a partner. You’ll start to have less time for me. You’ll all just fall away and I’ll be stuck here alone.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“How can you say that?”

Kara started to pull away. Lena stopped her with a tug on her arms. It stunned her, sometimes, how she could overpower a god with her tiny human hands. How she could stun the other whirlwind or a touch.

“Kara,” said Lena. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

“Me?” Kara squeaked.

Lena cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell you at the wedding. I mean, I didn’t dress like that and go stag for the hell of it. I just lost my nerve and you seemed so overwhelmed.”

Kara blinked a few times.

“You want me?” said Kara.

Lena felt a cold rush of terror. She’d just blurted it out, artlessly, unplanned.

“Like want me want me? Like kissing want me?”

Lena licked her lips. “Yes. I’d like to kiss you right now, if you let me.”

Kara settled back into the table, leaning forward. Lena leaned in, pushing her back slightly, moving her hands from shoulders to hips, scoring the way Kara tensed and trembled. She was hardly inexperienced, Lena knew, but something about this felt like a first kiss, even for her. It tasted like one, too, down to the quivery way their lips met.

Kissing quickly became something more. Lena didn’t know if she was pulling or Kara pushing. It didn’t much matter; the path led to the bed in Kara’s room, marked by a trail of shed clothing.

Years of anticipation overwhelmed them both; dinner was forgotten, and they didn’t even emerge until the next day.

It was in the morning sun, the light turning Kara’s skin gold, that Lena saw it. Twisted within one of the curling locks of hair, splayed around Kara’s head on the pillow, was a faintly visible thread of purest silver, chased through the gold like an engraver’s masterpiece. Lena couldn’t help but twirl the errant strands around her finger.

As Kara slept, she looked up through the window and watched the wind as it caressed the leaves.

[transingthoseformers]

So I'm thinking that the DJD are exempt from the "Decepticons collect their dead" thing? From everything I've seen it seeks like the aligned cons typically scrap theirs for parts which hey it's not like the offlined are gonna be using them. We see exactly this with canon Dreadwing, and kinda? The Starscream clones? Even Hardshell was dragged back onto the ship.

Unless of course they are unable to collect them, such as in canon Breaky's being yoinked by MECH relatively soon after his termination, or in the tfp au in Dreadwing's plan. From what I can see in even canon, it's pretty much designated that the autobots bury theirs instead (which is probably a whole "oohhHhHh, look at the good guys caring more™️ about their fallen brethren!" Thing) which is supported by Arcee returning to Cliffy's grave, that one time Megs rose up a bunch of dark energon zombies and i think Optimus referred to them mostly as undead autobots, them ending up burying Skyquake themselves.

But, from what we know in general about the Decepticon Justice Division both in mtmte canon and the tfp au, they aren't exactly known for the harsh but attempted efficiency of the tfp Nemesis crew. The latter tends to kill their targets pretty instantly (Arachnid is a statistical anomaly and shouldn't be included, even when she was/is working directly with the cons she's still kinda rogue adjacent. Even then, though, she doesn't tend to draw out the actual killing process.)

But what I've seen of the DJD? Their methods are messy, purposefully disorganized and improvised with a few constants (such as the prey most often being finished off by Tarn's Voice), and they're willing to broadcast this rather sadistic brutality. It fascinates me beyond belief.

[blackjackkent]

Another BG3 dialogue compilation - Elfsong Laff Riot jokes! (And associated companion approval.)

ROUND 1

Willoughby the comedian, folks! Were his jokes good, or did he just smell funny?

Elfsong Audience Approval Approves +1: Lae'zel, Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Minthara, Minsc, Halsin Disapproves -1: Astarion, Shadowheart, Jaheira

Say, what's the difference between a dwarf and a bulette? You can't toss the bulette!

Elfsong Audience Neutral Disapproves -1: Everyone

Hey! I asked my wizard to cast Shatter. He said, 'Shatter? I hardly know 'er!'

Elfsong Audience Disapproval Approves +1: Astarion, Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Minthara, Minsc, Halsin Disapproves -1: Lae'zel, Jaheira

[BARBARIAN][CHARISMA] Laugh. Now.

(on success) Elfsong Audience Approval (on failure) Immediate Loss Approves +1: Everyone

ROUND 2

You know why I hate vampires? They just suck.

Elfsong Audience Disapproval Approves +1: Lae'zel, Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Jaheira, Minthara, Minsc, Halsin Disapproves -2: Astarion

I tried sleeping with a dragonborn the other night, but it didn't work out - he had a reptile dysfunction.

Elfsong Audience Approval Approves +1: Astarion, Lae'zel, Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Jaheira, Minthara, Minsc, Halsin Approves +2: Karlach

I asked a zombie reanimator out on a date, but she said she wasn't interested in nec-romance.

Elfsong Audience Neutral Approves +1: Astarion, Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Minsc, Halsin Disapproves -1: Lae'zel, Jaheira, Minthara

[INTIMIDATION] What do you call a room full of people who don't applaud? Dead.

(on success) Elfsong Audience Approval (on failure) Immediate Loss Approves +1: Everyone

ROUND 3

The Dead Three, am I right? What losers. You know why Bane worshippers will never conquer the world? They don't have the Bhaals!

Elfsong Audience Neutral Approves +1: Astarion, Karlach, Minthara, Minsc, Halsin Disapproves -1: Lae'zel, Gale, Wyll, Shadowheart, Jaheira

A mind flayer's duergar slave lost his nose, so I asked the illithid, 'How does he smell?' and it said, 'I have eaten its brain.'

Elfsong Audience Disapproval Approves +1: Minsc Disapproves -1: Lae'zel, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Shadowhewart, Karlach, Jaheira, Minthara, Halsin

Our cleric tried to cast Healing Word on a ham, but it was already cured.

Elfsong Audience Approval Approves +1: Everyone

[INTIMIDATION] CLAP, OR I'LL RIP OUT YOUR SPINES.

(on success) Elfsong Audience Approval (on failure) Immediate Loss Approves +1: Everyone

Fun Notes:

Everyone approves of you threatening the crowd.

Everyone likes making fun of vampires except Astarion, who disapproves double.

Everyone likes the sex joke and ham. Karlach likes the sex joke more than everyone else.

Everyone in the group takes a stand against dwarf-tossing.

Minsc likes every single other joke (including the terrible third-round one everyone else disapproves of).

The religion joke is the most divisive, followed by (tied) the necromancy pun and whether or not to heckle the MC.

Liked Joke Count (not including threats):

Minsc: 8 Karlach: 7 Halsin: 7 Minthara: 6 Gale: 6 Wyll: 6 Astarion: 5 Shadowheart: 5 Lae'zel: 4 Jaheira: 3

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Commander, Sergeant

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army-FBI!reader

Summary: After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.

Warnings: incorrect Army terminology and actions, depiction of riots, fluff! a couple Call of Duty references. Also, I grew up ten minutes from Fort Rucker, so I'm allowed to trash talk it.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

When you joined the Army immediately after graduation, you didn’t expect it to become a career. What surprised you more was meeting Tim Bradford. You only met him once, but he stayed with you, a firm and commanding yet protective and loyal personality that was impossible to forget. Now, years later, you continue to think about him occasionally, hoping he’s doing well and happy. He inspired you to work through the ranks and do something more meaningful than just obeying as you’re told. Not that being a soldier and taking orders is unimportant, as you’ve explained to the troops you are now Master Sergeant of. Personally, you felt a calling to do more.

“Master Sergeant, Sergeant Major Riley is here to see you,” a soldier says, standing at attention in your doorway.

“I’ll be right out to meet him. Thank you, Private,” you reply kindly.

You are a different kind of Master Sergeant, unwilling to act higher than the men and women who answer to you. Your respect for others, regardless of rank, has made you a favorite on base.

“No need. Is now a good time?” Riley asks, taking the Private’s place.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Sergeant Major Riley?”

“There’s a developing situation in Los Angeles. If you and your team are up for it, I’d like to send you in to help.”

“Los Angeles? Who has jurisdiction?”

Riley chuckles, shaking his head, as he says, “I knew that would be your first question. Not ‘what’s the situation?’ because that’s boring, right?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“The LAPD called in military reinforcements for an out-of-control rioting issue.”

“When do we leave?”

“1700 hours. Tell your troops.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s everyone enjoying US Army Garrison Italy?” you ask your team, composed of twenty of the best soldiers.

“The men- the view is beautiful, Master Sergeant,” one of the female soldiers says.

“I’d have to agree. But we’re heading back to the States. There’s a riot issue in Los Angeles and they’ve called for the best to come in and help.”

“Riot control? Now, we’re talkin’, ma’am!”

“Los Angeles, California?” someone asks.

“What other Los Angeles is there, man?” a second voice replies.

You clear your throat, and everyone in the room snaps to attention. Smiling, you nod and confirm that your destination is Los Angeles, California.

“We leave at 1700 sharp. Helos are standing by. And before you ask, no, I don’t know when or if we’ll be back. LAPD is running point on this - listen closely, we are assisting. This is about the safety of US citizens. Not proving grounds or a test to become a Ranger. They’re calling the shots, but you still answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” your team yells together.

“Then let’s get out there and protect our home.”

As you leave, someone whispers, “I’m gonna miss Italy.”

You agree, but your job is about more than the view from the base. As you pack to return to California, you wonder if you’ll ever be back to Italy.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Master Sergeant. Thank you for coming so quickly. I am Sergeant Wade Grey, I’m Watch Commander of the LAPD Mid-Wilshire division,” Grey introduces, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Tell us where you need us, and we’ll be there.”

“We’ve got six teams out there right now, covering what we consider the biggest targets, but I’ll get you in touch with my lead Sergeant.”

“Is he in the field? We’d be happy to meet him where he is and take his direction from there.”

Wade sighs, a relieved smile appearing on his face. “You’re the best person in the state right now, Master Sergeant. He’s at the Wilshire Federal Building, the intersection of Wilshire and the 405. We’re running short on equipment, but we can get you transport.”

“Oh, we’ve got a ride. And, Sergeant Grey, feel free to drop the formalities,” you offer before telling him your first name.

“Only if you call me Wade,” he replies. “Wait- don’t tell me you have an APC parked outside my station.”

“We don’t. We have an M113 APC, a light tank, and six more vehicles waiting for a destination. You called for riot control, and we’re going to control some riots.”

“If you ever get tired of the Army, the LAPD would be happy to have you.”

“Unless you can offer me a station in Italy and as many armored vehicles as I can drive, I think I’m happy where I am.”

“Fort Irwin is scenic.”

You walk backward as you exit the office, tilting your head to the side as you consider. “Italian oceanside or California desert. Guess which I’m picking?”

“Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, sir- Wade.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment you jump off the side of the APC, two LAPD officers rush to you and your group of four soldiers. Splitting your team into five groups and sending one to join each of the LAPD squadrons seemed to be the best option. One of your team members introduces you to an officer, who nods and ushers you to follow him.

“Master Sergeant, this is LAPD Sergeant-“

“Bradford?”

Tim tilts his chin, his eyes the only part of his face you can see past his helmet and shield. You’d know him anywhere after countless nights of thinking of him and being inspired by him.

“Have we met, Master Sergeant?” he asks, his voice raised over the crowd gathering on Wilshire Boulevard.

Someone throws a flaming bottle of alcohol toward the steps of the building, and you motion for your team to push the crowd back.

“Later, Sergeant Bradford. Care to tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“LA courts decided to take a bunch of cases back to trial, deal with overcrowding, standard procedures. But… you get it.”

“Don’t want ‘em out or want to make sure they do get out. Yeah, I know the answer, though I’ve never understood the thought process behind it.”

“You and me both. What are we supposed to do to show them this won’t change anything?”

Glancing at the crowd, you weigh the options. “Realistically, getting violent is only going to make this worse. I’m not suggesting a negotiation, but… what if we try stopping?”

“We’re not setting down our arms and opening the gates for them to storm the Wilshire Federal Building!” Tim yells.

“Then what would you like to do? Stand here until the trials are done?”

“That’s not-“

“Look, I don’t want to pull rank but if you’re just going to stand here and argue with me, I will, Sergeant Bradford,” you reply. His jaw clenches beneath his helmet, and you offer, “Half of your men lower their shields, a show of good faith. Then we go from there.”

Tim lowers his shield, stepping toward you to threaten, “If anything happens to my men, it is on your hands. This isn’t your home, but it’s mine.”

“I understand how this works, Sergeant Bradford. And I’m not telling you to do it alone.”

You push past him, leading two soldiers to the front line, dropping your shield, and raising your hands. The crowd members closest to you stop, looking at you curiously.

“There is a court schedule available online!” you yell. “If you have a loved one that you would like to advocate for, call the courts, call their defenders, and tell them why someone is worthy of freedom at the proper time and place! But don’t risk your own freedom, don’t take the lives of your neighbors or your peace officers in the process!”

You signal for all of the officers to raise their shields again. As the crowd storms forward, you rush into the fray, letting your training take over as you disarm the citizens around you.

“Down on the ground!” you yell, panting as the tank approaches behind you.

At the sight of the tank, the men and women standing in the road begin kneeling, lowering their weapons, and raising their hands. The LAPD rush forward, doing their jobs as you send your team to give your orders to the other soldiers you brought back to the States.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” Tim says, approaching from behind you.

Turning toward him, you sigh and remove your helmet. “Lots of things shouldn’t work, Sergeant Bradford.”

“You know my name; care to tell me why?”

Pressing your lips together to hide your smile, you walk past him, calling over your shoulder to say, “Never expected I’d have a higher ranking than you, Sarge!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is the Master Sergeant here?” Tim asks as he enters the bullpen.

“She’s with her team, briefing their superiors.” Wade smiles before asking, “Why would you like to know?”

“She knew my name. I can’t place her though.”

“She’s Army, you were Army… think about it, Tim.”

“I met hundreds of people in the Army, Wade-“

“Not all of them stay in the Army and work their way through the rankings because you inspired them,” you say, standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem,” Wade says, adding your first name while looking toward Tim.

Tim looks past you, clearly trying to place your name.

“I met you my first year, we were only in the same room for a few minutes and didn’t say more than a few words to each other. But you inspired me. You were a good soldier, a better leader, and I wanted to do what you did.”

“And now you’re a sergeant?”

Smiling, you correct, “It’s Master Sergeant, Sergeant.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got a little drool right there,” Angela jokes, pointing to the corner of Tim’s mouth. “What’s so special about her?”

“She outranks me,” Tim answers.

“Okay. Lots of people do.”

“Yeah,” Wade adds from Tim’s other side. “You don’t look at me like that.”

“No offense, Wade, but you’re not as pretty,” Angela replies.

Tim shushes them suddenly, nodding when you turn and see him. You smile at him, yet again drawn in by Tim Bradford’s presence and leadership. His not trusting you at first, yelling at you, was somewhat unexpected, but you’ve been in his place before. Trusting people as soon as you meet them is difficult, often impossible in your profession, but Tim’s quick change makes you smile. You’re a good leader, like him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got a problem,” Wade calls, ending a phone call. “There’s another riot at Cal State Prison. LAPD and Lancaster PD can’t handle it alone.”

“We can never make it there in time,” Nolan responds. “It’s nearly 2 hours without traffic.”

“Now would be a good time to get a private jet or something, Thorsen,” Angela calls.

You pull your phone from your pocket, typing quickly before nodding. “I need Bradford,” you tell Wade. “And your landing pad.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks.

“Sikorsky X2 is five minutes out. We can get there and drop in 20 or less.” You raise a finger to point to everyone in the room. “This stays here. I’m not supposed to know the Army has one stateside.”

“Has a what?” Aaron asks.

“Good answer.”

“It only holds two crew members, but I’ve got a team out there that can ride in a cargo area. We’re going to need backup, so if you can get airships or anything, Sergeant Grey, please do. Let’s roll.”

Tim follows you quickly, jogging to catch up with you. “How’d you pull this off?”

“Somebody owed me a favor.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That I inspired you to stay in the Army, to get here.”

“Oh.” You push open a door and begin climbing the stairs quickly. Stepping onto the roof, you look at Tim and say, “Ask me again when this is over.”

Tim waits until you turn away to smile. He can’t believe he forgot you, but your sacrificial, mutually beneficial leadership style, kindness, and abilities, not to mention that you outrank him, have him practically wrapped around your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

Standing in the back of a helicopter and hooked to a rail, you lean out against the whipping air and feel weightless. The pain and concern of the day are wearing off, and as the sun sets, you’re glad you were asked to come to LA. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

Tim taps your side, and when he has your attention, he points West. The ocean is now visible, and the light ripples over the water, reflecting the pastel colors painting the sky. You smile at the view before looking back to Tim. Reaching up, you adjust the channel dial on his headset. He doesn’t even flinch at your sudden movement, and your smile grows as he leans toward you.

Looking at the soldiers behind you, you say, “If I think any of you can hear me, I’ll have you transferred to the worst base I can think of.”

No one except for Tim reacts, and he chuckles quietly.

“Okay, ask me again,” you request into your microphone.

“Did you really stay in the Army because of me?”

“Yes. You showed me what was possible, but your kindness toward me made me think I could do it too.”

“You could’ve done it without me.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Easy, Sergeant.”

“It’s-“

“Master Sergeant… when this illegally obtained helicopter lands, would you go to dinner with me?”

A soldier to your left moves, and you shake your head. “After this illegally obtained helo lands, and I have Henderson transferred to hot and humid Fort Rucker, Alabama, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Since you outrank me, surely you get paid better, so it’s on you?”

You lean toward Tim, pausing when your headset hits his. “I could also go back to Italy and see if anyone there is willing to take me to dinner.”

“Fine,” Tim groans. “I’ll pay, but only if you stay in town long enough to show me how much my inspiration paid off.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The dinner date does not go as planned. When you enter the police station, Sergeant Major Riley awaits you. He takes you into Wade’s office to talk, and Tim stands outside waiting for you.

Being a soldier means being sent to different places with only a moment’s notice, but being at your level makes things far more difficult and irregular. Tim may have missed his chance.

“Any idea what that’s about?” Tim asks Wade.

“No clue.”

You exit a moment later, your previous smile now absent. Tim tries to hide his disappointment, but he should have known getting into a relationship with a younger, yet higher ranking, soldier would never work.

“I blame you,” you tell Wade, stopping before him and Tim.

“What did I do?” he asks incredulously.

“You said there was an opening at Irwin, but you didn’t say that you only knew that because my Sergeant Major told you.”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Anyone want to loop me in?” Tim asks tiredly.

“I’m moving to California. Leaving Italy behind to lead a new force,” you answer sadly. “No more authentic pasta for me.”

“Wait- you’re moving to California? Irwin, which is three hours from here?” Tim interjects.

“It’s your fault too,” you remember. “I let you inspire me to be a good leader and a good teacher, but now I’m paying for it.”

Riley calls your name, beckoning you back into the office. The second time you exit, you seem a bit more pleased.

“Is the offer for that date still on the table?” you ask Tim. “Looks like my team is going to be in LA county for a few days before I can get discharged.”

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? You're getting out?" Tim asks, raising his hands in question.

"I'm receiving another raise in rank," you tell Tim, grabbing his extended wrist and pulling him toward the door. "But not in the Army."

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“Your form needs some work, but there’s potential,” you say.

“My, uh, my recruiter said that you take potential and make talent,” the recruit before you says.

Standing, you smile. “I like to think so. But I can’t do anything without your effort. So, are you willing to put in the work to do your best?”

“Yes, ma’am, Commander.”

“Then I only have one more question. Why do you want to join FBI special operations?”

“Commander,” someone scoffs from the doorway. “It’s like you take pride in increasing the divide between our ranks.”

Glancing over, you make a “shoo” gesture before finishing the recruit’s evaluation.

“Let’s go,” you tell Tim, gathering your things. “It’s been almost a year, and we still haven’t had an uninterrupted dinner date.”

“I’m not sure we ever will, Sarge.”

You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, brushing your lips over his before whispering, “It’s Commander, Sergeant.”

[ericfoltin1972]

I understand your concerns about the upcoming election and the potential for unrest, regardless of the outcome. It's a tense and polarized political climate, and many people are worried that the results will lead to widespread conflict and upheaval. As someone who generally tries not to let things bother you too much, this election has you feeling particularly uneasy. You recognize that there are passionate supporters on both sides - the "Kamala Harris crybabies" as well as the "Donald Trump MAGA rednecks" - who may resort to destructive behavior like rioting, burning, and looting if their preferred candidate doesn't win. The prospect of violence and chaos breaking out has you genuinely concerned for everyone's safety.

You've taken a fairly impartial stance, acknowledging that there is potential for unrest regardless of whether Trump or Harris prevails. It's a complex and divisive issue, and you don't want to take sides or assign blame to one particular group. Instead, your primary focus is on hoping that cooler heads will prevail and that the public can come together peacefully to accept the election results, no matter how they turn out. You just want to get through the night of the election results without any major incidents or harm coming to people. It's an understandable and admirable position to take, wanting to rise above the partisan bickering and simply hope for a calm and orderly transition of power. Ultimately, you're worried about the wellbeing of everyone involved, which speaks to your level-headed and compassionate nature.