#Airforce Officer

[rrowdyrathore]

I think I have baby fever bcz I have been looking at Dr Betsy Grunch and Dr Rupa Juthani (who are neurosurgeons and post their lives on ig) have fun with their daughters and raise them to be a confident woman and like them I also want to have a daughter as my first born and raise her with love and care that I did not receive as a kid

[all-india-govt-jobs]

Government job in April-May with 4400 posts open for application

Government job: Prospective candidates searching for government jobs have a golden opportunity this season. Various jobs have been advertised across India for April and May 2025, ranging from health officers to engineers and consultants. Some of the recruitment drives are already live, while others will begin soon. Interested applicants can check eligibility and apply via the respective official…

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[manasajuniorcollge]

TOP JUNIOR COLLEGE IN INDIA#trending #viralshorts #bestcolleges

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[manasastuff-blog]

"Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam's Birth Anniversary"#trending#viral

Dr APJ Abdul Kalam's Birth Anniversary 2024 is a special day to remember the Missile Man of India and his inspiring legacy. Celebrated on October 15th, this day marks a tribute to his contributions in science, education, and nation-building.

Call:799799221

Website:www.manasadefenceacademy.com

#APJAbdulKalam#KalamBirthAnniversary#MissileManOfIndia#Inspiration#DefenceTraining#ManasaDefenceAcademy#IndianArmy#NDA#SSBInterview#DefenceAspirants#trending#viral

[contact360marketing]

"Contact 360 Marketing Pvt Ltd extends heartfelt wishes to the Indian Air Force on their day of pride. Your dedication is our strength.” "On this Indian Air Force Day, let us remember and appreciate the sacrifices and bravery of our air warriors. Saluting their dedication to the nation.”

[starrywizz]

STARSCREAM X fighterpilot!READER

Disclaimer: I have very limited, google only, knowledge of how the airforce works so ignore any mistakes. Ignore any spelling mistakes it was late when I finished this.

~~~~~~~~~

It was a dim, gloomy day as you were up early, walking down past the hangers to talk to your mechanics. It was only after you passed hanger 013 that you paused.

The sliding doors were open, slightly parted at the centre, and a shiny nose-cone could be seen. You slowly walked towards the hanger and entered, flicking on the lights and gasping as a gleaming, tri coloured jet stood before you. It was beautiful, in a strange way, but most definitely out of place. You had never heard of one of the keys being painted red, white and blue so what on earth was it doing here?

It was humiliating. Megatron, the imbecile, had sent Starscream of all mechs to pose as human military jet in order to gain access to their databases which might hold knowledge of the whereabouts of the Autobot.

This was a job for one of Soundwave’s strange lackeys not the Second in command and the Air commander of the entire Decepticon force.

Starscream was seething, as he laid in wait among the feeble human jets. How did Megatron truely expect him to complete this task? What was he supposed to do, rip up the whole base?

Regardless, he waited and watched through the open doors. He would leave again soon, he just had to remain long enough so that it at least looked like he tried.

He was very close to firing up his thrusters when the human in front of him gasped. He would never admit that the human had caught him unawares or that he briefly panicked as they came closer to him. They placed and brief touch to the bottom of his nose-cone before running back out of the hanger. This was going to be a problem.

You walked over to where your mechanics were waiting with your heart thundering in your chest. There was something about that jet that just was not normal. You were sure of it.

You spoke about the strange jet to one of your technicians who all seemed equally as confused at its sudden appearance. Resolute, you marched back to your superior’s office, determined to explain your findings.

To your surprise, and part horror, your superior looked at you like you had gone mad. Still, he followed after you as you nearly marched down to the jet. It was still there, looking just as incredible as it had before and it still gave you that strange chill it had earlier. Beside you, your superior paled before telling you it was nothing to worry about. He walked briskly back to base, phone in hand. Confused, you walked back to your mechanical whilst giving brief glances to the jet over your shoulder.

The rest of the day trickled by, followed by next and then the one after that. The jet had not moved, nor did anyone (and you had gone around base interrogating people) know anything about it. It was not on the records. It really seemed like it didn’t exist.

That only made it more interesting. You had been taking your lunch breaks in hanger 013, sitting near the jet just staring at it. Questions flooded your head but there seemed to be no answer to them. It infuriated you. Sooner or later you would have to accept that nobody knew anything about this new and crazily colourful jet.

You spent your night in the barracks hardly sleeping so it was no surprise when you awoke to the sound of roaring jet engines. Any other day, you would have rolled over and tried to sleep. But not today because you knew that there were no scheduled flights this late at night and the only reason a jet would be taking off was if there was an emergency. If so, it was best you get up.

Walking outside into the cold night. You froze in partial shock and horror as you saw the tri-coloured jet heading down the taxiway. Somehow, your legs unfroze and you began to sprint down towards the jet. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind. Who was piloting it? Where were they going? What were they doing?

The jet turned to cross onto the runway and then… stopped. It was dark and there was no way for you to be able to tell who was in the cockpit, if there was anyone at all. Suddenly, with a robotic whirr, the jet shifted and began to fold in on itself?

You screamed and moved back as a giant, taloned hand reached out and grabbed you pulled you off the ground. Frozen in shock you barely noticed when the thing looked at you with glowing red eyes before it shifted around itself and suddenly you were snuggly inside its cockpit. Your mind was racing and your head was pounding as it tried to come to terms with what had just happened. The jet (which was also possibly a giant robot) took off at a near vertical angle. The sudden increase in g-force was too much and you blacked out.

Starscream growled at the feeling of a human inside of him. You had better be worth all the trouble.

[americancitizen2025]

Billions of our tax $$ to upgrade a bribe. Blatant Corruption.. what do you think of this MAGA?

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Can you say Emoluments Clause?

Can you say Bribery?

I wonder if the Supreme Court Judges can read the 14th amendment and say Reverse Presidential Immunity.

Don't forget Trump is also spending close to $10 million a month in golfing (been golfing 25% of the time) and a $60-95 million dollar military b-day parade (June 14) for this sex offender felon ..one that will ruin the roads. Which WE will have to pay for too.

Yet we do not have the money to give veterans for healthcare or feed our own kids with OUR tax dollars because we have to give money to rich.

This monstrosity is going to cost Billions yes BILLIONS to upgrade for use as Airforce One right now. Then when he leaves office, he wants to keep it. We can afford BILLIONS to give him military parades and fix up his toys but your kids won't get school lunch or food stamps to feed them when they come home. All the while Peter Thiel’s puppet, Vance, is getting rich of Acre Trader buying up foreclosed farms this administration put out of business by canceling USAID and made-up trade war with the world including China.

Understand the REPUBLICAN majority congress could stop all of this with impeachment/prosecution. The Supreme Court could reverse immunity and arrest him (3 would like to never have given him immunity which violates the constitution).

Here is a way we can fight back https://americancitizen2025.substack.com/p/want-to-defend-democracyread-on Also contact your democratic congressmen and tell them per the Emoluments clause, bribery laws and Article 1 section 9 this is illegal. Pam Bondi does NOT have the authority to allow this. At the VERY least they need to make PUBLIC statements that All of these "gifts" are illegal and will be handled accordingly once this administration is gone. I would at that same PUBLIC announcement call out to the Supreme Court this is all illegal when are YOU going to reverse presidential immunity? Oh it gets better, Democrats wanted to keep Trump from accepting a bribe and REPUBLICANS are blocking it to ALLOW the corruption...again. Guess what Maggats WE the taxpayers will have to pay close to a billion dollars to renovate it so it can be used as Airforce One.

[edutainer2022]

The issue of power dynamics and adjustments after Jeff's return opens infinite possibilities (for angst). Jeff's idea of picking up where he left off might be less simple or even feasible. Scott literally spoke in my head through this one and John chimed in. Jeff gets an earful and needs to think.

Many thanks go to @janetm74

IN STRIDE

"May I remind you, Bluejay, I built the whole gig from the bottom up! I know how it operates. There's no need for triple reporting - it's a waste of time!"

"With all due respect, you don't, Dad."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know how IR operates. Not anymore. You weren't there."

"Through no fault of mine!"

"True. It was MY fault. I take full responsibility. You weren't there when I negotiated new parameters with the GDF and the World Council. I was not the First Man on Mars they could trust implicitly. I was NOTHING to them. I realize I'm nothing beyond your shadow, but that's not the point! You were GONE, Dad. Uncle Lee left. Kyrano resigned. Aunt Val got promoted. There was no active duty GDF officer on the IR roster anymore. There was NO roster till Virgil and John completed training and Gordon graduated high school. I'm still a downed washout for your old buddies in the Airforce. I can live with that. But I will NOT jeopardize what IR is now, the reach and freedom we're given on the off chance the GDF brass will extend you the benefit of the doubt unconditionally again. You were on six IR missions total, Dad. Zero failure rate. The triple reporting is what keeps us in the game when the worst comes to the worst. Without it we wouldn't be allowed to lift off the ground. It keeps the boys and Kayo safe from liability!"

"But not you?"

"That's part of the deal with the GDF. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Scott!"

"Dad, don't. Let Virgil handle it. Trust me."

"How bad?"

"When?"

"There's a scale?"

"Oh yeah, Dad! You have no idea!"

"I obviously don't. Okay, then. Right after?"

"Right after you were gone? Nosedive."

"Oh..."

"The stocks plummeted, the markets were in shambles, the Board all but rioted. Scott had to hold that up - at a point we didn't have the extra funds to run IR anyway. Then there was the GDF issue. They tried to strongarm Scott into handing the Thunderbirds and the Base over, instead of appointing operatives. Scott refused. We stood down for a couple of years. There were issues with the Tinies' custody anyway. The island was deemed "inaccessible to child services". Scott was needed in NYC and Alan stayed with him through middle school. It was better for Gordie's Olympics training to be Stateside as well. Virgil finished up his degree and I was in England, prepping for the ISA stint."

"And then?"

"Dad, you alright? You seem pale!"

"I'm okay, Johnny. Go on!"

"Well... then the waves settled a bit. The company was not belly up anymore, on the contrary. Scott got a hang of it. We could fully fund IR without the Global Council or GDF input, including launching Five. Virgil and I were fully trained. Once Gordie won the medal we had a specialized Aquanaut too. Kayo finished school and Kyrano sent her over to supervize security. Brains was on board. Scott fought tooth and nail for the Big Wigs to let him helm the op independently. Like he just told you - we still needed to make concessions on reporting. I'm not gonna lie, Dad, they ARE keeping Scott in a chokehold. The hardest part was to convince Scott to pull Allie into homeschooling. He wanted the kid to have a normal life. We tried launching from Gran Roca, but the island is just so much more suitable. So to keep the child services off Scott's back we asked Grandma to move in. You know the rest, more or less. The Hood came back, we found the signal, then we found you."

"I need to talk to Scott!"

"You do. But not right now, Dad. Let Virgil deal with him first."

"That happens a lot?"

"We got our routine."

"So you're wrangling your Old Man?"

"Maybe."

"I left a mess behind, didn't I?"

"You're back now, Dad. Talk to Scott. You both need it!"

[itsaliveblog]

Joaquin Torres age / Captain America timeline speculation?? Bear with me lol.

So Sam Wilson (allegedly) has the same birthdate as Anthony Mackie: 1978. That puts him at 40 during Infinity war, which takes place in 2018. Post Blip, he's technically still 40, in 2023. Falcon and Winter Soldier takes place in 2024 (6 months after Infinity War) Sam is 41—enter Joaquin Torres.

In 2024 (FATWS), Joaquin is a first lieutenant in the Airforce. It takes 24 months to go from lieutenant 2nd grade to 1st grade. Officers graduate as a 2nd grade lieutenant. Assuming Joaquin went to the Air Force Academy, a four year program, and did the typical straight-out-of-high-school 18-22, he's minimum 24 years old. (Notes: You have to be 17-23 years old to enroll in the academy, but given most high school grads are 18, we'll assume he's 18. PS: their mascot is a falcon which is fucking cute. PPS: If he didn't do the academy, he would still have done a four year program w/ROTC to become a 2nd Lt)

Now, the Captain America: Brave New World timeline is potentially a bit fuzzy. It happened after Eternals obvs, which is pegged at the latter-half of 2024. It apparently takes place 16 years after The Incredible Hulk (set 2010) putting it at 2026 (presumably beginning with a 2025 election). But Sam mentions he's been working with Torres for 3 years, which would likely be 2024-2027. And a sharp-eyed redditor notices the Presidential invitation literally says April 2027, so here we are lol.

TL;DR, CA:BNW is canonically set in 2027, Joaquin is minimum 27 years old. Sam is canonically 44 (at least "biologically" for lack of a better term lol).

Additional notes/Alternate interpretations:

Joaquin has some pretty specific tech knowledge that could well have required another degree, or special training, potentially adding some years before FATWS.

Following the Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie birthday precedent, Joaquin could have been born the same year as Danny Ramirez: 1992. Having survived the snap, he would be 35 in 2027.

Danny Ramirez is 33 as of the 2025 movie release. BUT filming took place in 2023, so he was 31 on screen.

Given Joaquin’s very Gen Z vibes, his age probably maxes out around 31.

Oh, and idk if it's even worth mentioning, Joaquin is clearly not the 17 year old high school grad from the 2015 comic run. Because of the canonically mentioned lieutenant rank in FATWS.

Anyway, I spent a few hours in a research hole for fic purposes, and maybe you want to avoid that. Okay I love you bye.

PS: fwiw I’ve settled on 30 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (because I am an old lol. And according to the apocryphal 'half your age plus seven' the 14 year age gap passes the bar lmao)

[inbabylontheywept]

Soviet Birds.

The secret facility that I work in has holes in the ceiling. We don't know how to get them fixed.

We tried asking the government to fix it, once. We told them that the holes in the older parts of the facility had gotten large enough to fit birds through, and that birds were getting through, and that, perhaps, a Soviet Spy could fit through as well.

After all, it is well known that Soviet Spies and pigeons are approximately the same diameter.

Our hope was that that this vague and nonsensical threat would put a little fire under Uncle Sam's feet. If the fed couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the giant gaping holes in the roof of our facility, perhaps they could be persuaded to give a shit about... Soviet Spies.

This attempt at manipulation 100% blew up in our faces.

See, the government does not need to be persuaded to give a shit about Soviet Spies. It still wakes up most nights, drenched in cold sweat, terrified and confident that a Soviet Spy is hiding in their nightstand. If it sees a rock on the ground, it flips it over, pistol drawn, ready to shoot the Soviet Spy it fully expects to slither out from underneath. Which is to say: The government is crazy. So when we dropped those two words - inflitration risk - in the repair request, they came in guns-a-blazin'.

Does that mean that they fixed the roof? Of course not. Don't be stupid. No, instead of performing basic maintenance, they installed a state of the art alarm system throughout the facility - lasers, sonar, the works - and told us to always be on the guard. Because of the roof holes.

Then they left.

So now we had an extremely good alarm system... and birds. Which have combined in incredibly obvious and predictable ways to produce an unending fountain of problems.

For Example: About once a month, someone gets called in by the local airforce dispatch because AAAAAAAAAAA a Spy is in the Rad Lab! We're all gonna die! Except every time, it's a bird. And I get why we have to check, but every time, the dispatcher is panicked and the person going out has to be like listen, listen: It's a bird. It's always a bird. It's been a bird every month for the last fifteen years. It will be a bird next month. All this stress? Bad for your heart.

Second Example: Sometimes, birds get in while we're actually working. And when it's in the morning, you know, it's a nuisance, and it stops testing (we are not going to risk irradiating a bird) but it's not an all-hands-on-deck situation because it doesn't take ten hours to get a bird out. But surprisingly often, the bird gets in riiiiight at closing time, and in that situation, everyone goes feral because nobody can leave until the alarm is set, and we cannot set the alarm while the bird is there, because the bird would immediately trigger it and then we'd have to stay another 4 hours to confirm that it was not a Soviet Bird.

So in order to go home, everyone's top priority is Get That Bird. And we have a system for it.

Step 1: The test stands tend to be located in rooms with 30+ foot ceilings. We can't catch birds in places like that - so we have to lure the bird into the relatively low ceilinged (8 feet only) upper offices.

We do this by turning all the lights off in the test rooms, then putting floodlights by the exits. I don't know why this works - some kind of evolutionary brain fragment shared by both Bugs and Birds - but work it does. The birds almost always follow after the lights. From there, it’s just two guys moving the floodlight and a third guy to turn off the lights.

Step 2: Everyone else has been waiting for this step. There is this long stairway up from the basement level into the offices, and in the final stage, the floodlights are brought to the base of the stairwell to bring the bird up. At the top of the steps there will be a group of tennish people, waiting for the signal. The light guys will set up the final transfer, everyone will tense, and then, swish...a bird will flit up the stairs and into the offices.

It's like watching werewolves on a full moon. Before the bird cometh, we are engineers. Nerds. Pale and skinny things, trembling under the fluorescent lights. After the bird, we are beasts. Feral, gnawing things, glowing under the orange sunrise of the 70's halogen floodlights.

And like all beasts, we cannot help but give chase.

Step 3: The were-engineers begin the hunt. The goal at the start is not really to catch the bird - just exhaust it. So the pack simply does not relent. Because the stakes are going home on time, the group is basically given free reign to go anywhere in the building. If someone's door is open, and the bird goes inside, they're going to have to deal with ten sweaty panting maniacs leaping around their office. They don't get to say that they're busy, or remark on how all this movement is a terrible distraction. They are allowed to sit in silence during the chaos, and perhaps thank the war party for chasing the bird while they sat comfortably on their ass. This has been explained several times, and it will continue to be explained until cooperation is achieved.

Anyway.

The chase can go on for quite some time. Sometimes, the bird will get tired and find a crevice to hide in, where it can then be reached through standard cornered-bird catching techniques.

Other times, it will slow down enough that someone can actually yoink it out of the air. But this will go on until someone catches the bird and triggers Step 4.

Step 4: The Finale. This is the get-the-bird-out-of-the-building stage, and it requires someone to adopt a specific role: To Become the Sacrificial Vessel of Bird Removal.

This job is both coveted and feared. It's coveted, because holding a wild bird in one's hands is a precious thing. To feel how small, and fragile, and scared it is, only to free it from the building? That is what it's like to be a benevolent God. But the cost! Oh, the cost. The entire time the Vessel is in motion, the bird will be biting the hell out of their fingers. And I cannot emphasize enough just how painful bird bites are. Their entire face is a set of needle posed pliers, and they know tricks the even the cartels haven't figured out yet. So there's always a little hubbub about who shall be The Vessel while onlookers, stranded outside The Office of Bird Capture, can only look on. Quiet arguments and pleas are heard, little fragments of fear and pride and glory trickling out of room like the silver dust left behind in a bag of well shook quarters. The sound of concensus is silence, and the argument will go on until that's all that's left. And then, from the darkness of the final office, the chosen sacrifice will step forward: Hands gently cupped, tears streaming down their face, fingers trembling from the pain of the ongoing bird chomps.

And this scene is what organizes people. Not leadership, not truly. No one can think and coordinate a crowd while their fingers are being attacked with a combination nutcracker/ear piercer. But the crowd sees the suffering of their annointed, and it is driven to do everything poossible to make the process flow. People instinctively flair out, finding the fastest path outside. Doors are held open. Paths are cleared. Someone, somehow, always knows the way forward and can describe it to the sufferer. Left, left, forward. Corner closet. Yep, there's a hall in there. Forward. Two-hundred more feet man, you're doing great. Just hold it together a little longer. You're killing it.

Then the final door swings open, and the bird flees out into what remains of daylight. And yet, even here, the deed is not yet done. I cannot explain it in words, but the crowd that helped is never content until they can see and speak on the Bird Vessel's wounds. They all have to pull the fingers back and see what was given. Estimate the price: One day to get better - No, three - No, a week! Are you blind? Do you see that blood blister? -Yeah, that's not going away anytime soon - Damn, can you believe how feisty those things are? Like wolves without teeth.

(They cannot help but touch as they go. It has always been this way. Even Thomas was not content until he felt the wounds in Christ's hands.)

Only when the last of the helpers has seen, and commented, and commended, will the engineers scatter. It is their return from the underworld that announces to the sun living surface dwellers that they too can go home. (@somerunner tolja it needed to be a post.)

[cecilyv]

prompt: 56 or 97

@liminalmemories21 and I went with 56 and took it back to Pegasus.

+++++++++++++

“You don't have to act like you're okay.” (continuing from “Say What?”)

Sal tracks Tommy down at the very end of one of the Western piers.  One of the ones that nobody is technically supposed to be going down because it still hasn’t been cleared by the scientists or by the military.  

Tommy doesn’t say anything when he sits down next to him, and he hands Tommy the bottle of moonshine from Xeno-Biology that he’d brought with him.

Tommy takes a swig, and then coughs. “Jesus, how is that always worse than I remember?”

He takes the bottle back and takes his own swig, swirling it around his mouth like it’s fine wine. “I think it has a subtle note of plum.” Tommy stares at him.

He snorts. “Talk to me.”

Tommy takes the bottle back instead of saying anything, but doesn’t actually take another swig.

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.” Tacks on a,“sir,” after a moment’s consideration, just to see if it’ll get a reaction.

Tommy sighs, takes another swig, doesn’t cough this time. “I think I came back wrong.”

He raises his eyebrows. “The scientists did science-y things, and I’ll admit I didn’t understand all of them, but I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if they’d started in on straight up necromancy.”

Tommy snorts. “Just, I know it was only a few hours for you but it was months for me. And it keeps tripping me up. I keep expecting the harvest to already be in. For Hen to be packing to go through to Salpania to be ready for when Mirilla gives birth.” It’ll be the first new kid born on Salpania after the mudslide. It's going to be a milestone for all of them. There’s a long pause, then he finishes lowly, barely a whisper “For Evan to have moved on.” 

He looks at Tommy sharply. “That what you did? Move on?”  

Because he’d see how frantic Buck had been. How worried. How upset. The kid chugged a gallon of the not-coffee and couldn’t be forced to go sleep until they got Tommy back. That was not a kid who was moving on anytime soon from Tommy, even if it had been the same months for them here as it had been for Tommy there. 

Tommy shakes his head. “No. Of course not. But that’s different.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t speak officer, sir. You’re going to have to translate from dumbfuck for me.” 

Tommy glares at him half-heartedly. “Just, you know.”

“I assure you, sir. I really do not know.”

Buck is not who he would have clocked for Tommy, is not who he personally would pick to spend his life with -- tits not nearly big enough (thank god Elona can’t hear inside his head) -- but he’s seen them together, and they work. Work better than he thinks anyone could have reasonably expected.  Maybe it’s the magic of Pegasus.  Maybe it’s just opposites attract.  Maybe it’s something else - relationships that can be defined and quantified and neatly labeled are rarely the good ones.  

But, what he does know is that he’s known Tommy a lot of years, and he’s never seen Tommy let himself be happy.  And, he’s damned if he’s going to sit here and watch Tommy sabotage himself in the name of whatever the fuck’s going on inside that brain of his.  Generally speaking Tommy’s pretty solid for an officer – an Airforce officer, at that – but sometimes being an officer does get in the way of his common sense.  Like now.  

Which is why when you need to unfuck something, you call in the Marines.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Reuters, via The Guardian:

Donald Trump’s order halting diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives has led the US air force to suspend course instruction on a documentary about the first Black airmen in the US military, known as the Tuskegee Airmen, a US official said on Saturday. The famed Black aviators included 450 pilots who fought overseas in segregated units during the second world war. Their success in combat helped pave the way for Harry Truman’s decision to desegregate the armed forces in 1948. Another video about civilian female pilots trained by the US military during the second world war, known as Women Airforce Service Pilots, or Wasps, was also pulled, the official said. The air force did not directly comment on the decision, which was confirmed by an official who spoke to Reuters on condition of anonymity. The US president has issued a series of executive orders seeking to dismantle DEI programs since he took office on Monday. DEI programs seek to promote opportunities for women, ethnic minorities and other traditionally underrepresented groups. Civil rights advocates argue such programs, generally backed by Democrats, are needed to address longstanding inequities and structural racism. But they have become a rallying cry for conservatives who argue that race- and gender-focused initiatives are inherently discriminatory and fail to prioritize merit.

The consequences of the moronic anti-DEI EO by Tyrant 47 are being felt: Instructional videos about Tuskegee Airmen and female pilots are off the agenda.

[a-sentient-cup]

"something's fishy the tag listings haven't updated"

Checked through the browser to see if it was my app being clunky but no, still the same list

Then i went to compare the numbers in tags and it's just visible what's happening right now

Compared to the "current trending"

Still wildly below those two tags. Not that i wouldn't be happy to see #transgender naturally trending for this long but here's the thing. I can care about more than one thing at a time

If it's to hide the fact that an airforce officer immolated himself over the atrocities being committed then the priorities are in the wrong order

[kakashi-bby]

Aaron Bushnell's immolation will stay with me for as long as I am alive

An active member of the U.S. airforce LIT. HIMSELF. ON. FIRE. in front of the Israeli embassy in protest of Palestinian genocide. And WHILE on fire, in EXCRUCIATING PAIN, did he chant FREE PALESTINE SIX TIMES before succumbing to the flames AS AN OFFICER POINTED A GUN AT HIM INSTEAD OF HELPING

Do not stop talking about Aaron Bushnell. Do not stop talking about Palestine.

REST IN PEACE AARON BUSHNELL. FREE PALESTINE

[reveryfics]

avengers (multiple or any!!) tapping reader out ?

military graduation :3

Airmen

Sam Wilson x Male Reader

Summary: Completing your BMT was one of your proudest moments, a moment you got to share with Sam.

A/N: Since Sam is airforce and I have more Bucky fics then I can count, I figured this would be perfect. Reader is airforce like Sam. I also apologize as I had to look up what they did for airforce graduates.

TW: Fluff

The crisp white envelope felt substantial in your hand, a weight that belied the single sheet of paper it contained. Standing at attention before the stern-faced military training officer, the silence in the room stretched taut as you waited for him to acknowledge your presence and accept the visitor access request letter. A quick glance around the room revealed a flurry of activity, other graduates meticulously filling out multiple lines on their forms, a testament to the families and friends eagerly anticipating their achievements. Your own form, however, bore a stark simplicity, a single name – 'Sam Wilson' – etched onto the designated line. A quiet resolve settled within you, a certainty that one person's unwavering support could outweigh a multitude of fleeting well-wishers.

The officer’s gaze finally lifted from the paper, his eyes, sharp and assessing, meeting yours. "This all?" he questioned, his voice carrying the clipped authority you'd become accustomed to. A lump formed in your throat, a mixture of anticipation and nerves, but you managed a firm, "Yes sir." before being dismissed with a curt nod.

The memory of the previous day still pulsed with a vibrant energy, the adrenaline rush of the airman's run and the solemnity of the airman's coin ceremony a potent cocktail of accomplishment and tradition. Yet, even those significant milestones paled in comparison to the mental image you'd been cherishing: Sam's beaming face in the crowd, a beacon of pride amidst the sea of families, as the graduates marched past in their freshly pressed uniforms. The thought was a comforting anchor, a reminder of the unwavering support system waiting just beyond the confines of the training base.

The following day crawled by with agonizing slowness. Every tick of the clock echoed the mounting anticipation, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. Finally, the moment arrived. You stood amongst your fellow graduates, a sea of blue uniforms, the weight of the past weeks, the grueling training, the sacrifices made, all pressing down on you. The air buzzed with nervous energy, a collective holding of breath before the final release.

Then, the parade began. As you marched, a wave of emotion washed over you, witnessing the joyous reunions unfolding along the sidelines. Families embraced, tears streamed down proud faces, and cheers erupted for each passing graduate. A pang of longing resonated within you, a quiet ache for the familiar face you hadn't yet seen. The lump in your throat tightened, threatening to choke you.

Suddenly, a booming voice cut through the celebratory din, instantly recognizable. "That's my boy right there!" Sam's voice, amplified by pure enthusiasm, resonated through the crowd. A wide, infectious grin stretched across his face as his eyes locked onto yours, a beacon in the multitude of blue. The relief that washed over you was immense, the knot in your throat dissolving as you offered a small, proud smile in return.

The march concluded, and the graduates were finally dismissed to seek out their loved ones. A chaotic yet joyous scene unfolded as families surged forward, embracing their newly minted airmen. Through the throng of people, you saw Sam, navigating the crowd with a determined stride, his eyes fixed on you. When he reached you, he didn't hesitate. He enveloped you in a bear hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he jumped up and down, his voice thick with emotion as he repeated how incredibly proud he was. The dam finally broke. Tears, a mixture of relief, joy, and exhaustion, streamed down your face as you hugged him back, the pure, unadulterated joy radiating from him a tangible force.

"Come on, I know you're starving," Sam said, pulling back but keeping a hand firmly on your shoulder. He led you away from the immediate chaos, a knowing glint in his eyes. As you approached a local restaurant, a popular spot buzzing with families celebrating their airmen, you stopped short, a look of utter surprise washing over your face. Seated in a cozy booth, amidst the celebratory decorations, were Natasha, Bucky, and Steve, all smiling warmly at you.

The restaurant was filled with the happy chatter of reunions, a comforting hum of pride and relief. But in that moment, nothing else mattered but the four faces beaming back at you, the people who had been your unwavering pillars of support, the ones who had offered words of encouragement and belief when the challenges of training seemed insurmountable.

Sam stopped you just before you reached the booth, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, pressing it into your hand. "Open this," he insisted, his voice a low murmur, "before these two start making fun of me."

With trembling fingers, you opened the box. Nestled inside, on a bed of soft velvet, was a ring. It was crafted with delicate precision, the design resembling stylized wings, a subtle nod to your new journey. As you examined it closer, you noticed the intricate engraving on the inside: your initials and the date of your graduation. A wave of emotion washed over you, gratitude and affection swirling together. You slipped the ring onto your middle finger, the cool metal a tangible reminder of their love and support. Without a word, you pulled Sam into another tight hug, a silent thank you for the thoughtful and deeply personal gift.

The afternoon melted away in a comfortable haze of laughter and shared stories. Sam, Bucky, and Steve, each with their own history in the military, regaled you with anecdotes from their time, their tales a mix of camaraderie, challenges, and the unique bonds forged in service. Their stories, filled with both humor and a quiet understanding of what you had just endured, were a comforting balm to your weary soul.

As the day drew to a close, they all accompanied you back to the base. Bucky clapped you on the shoulder, his gruff voice laced with genuine pride. Steve offered a simple, heartfelt, "Be safe, son." Natasha, ever the pragmatist, gave you a knowing look and a firm hug. Sam lingered a little longer, pulling you into a final embrace. "I'm gonna miss you like crazy while you're gone," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. You hugged him back, the familiar scent of him a comforting anchor. Leaning up slightly, you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, a silent promise of your return, before turning and heading back towards the base, the weight of their love a comforting presence as you faced the next chapter.