#i'd like to have like. more than one option right?

[ollimus-prime]

sorry if it’s a little complicated, but maybe Megatron meeting Y/N again after so long, since having known them as D-16?

One Last Choice

A/N, not important: I don't think I got his personality right my b. If y'all have any tips or could point me towards some, I'd be forever thankful. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Major Character Death(Reader)

Words: 1750

Summary: A final meeting with an old friend.

You’ve been captured. At least, you think you have. Unfriendly servos were wrapped around your shoulders and hauling you across the floor with a fury you hadn’t seen in years. Although, that’s about the most you could gather from the situation. Your systems were completely out of whack. Up was down and down was up. Nothing made sense anymore. You could feel your arms bound behind your back, restricting your movement and disorienting you further. 

The only thing you could be sure of now was the pain. It radiated through your frame like the energon flowing in your lines. Your HUD was flooded with warnings, the never-ending assault of painful information suffocating you and swallowing you whole. You could barely hear, could barely see. Everything was coated in a thick static that had taken over your world. Muffled voices sounded above you as you were dragged to whatever pit you would be left to go offline. 

You try to count the steps for a moment, willing your aching processor to sputter back to life and erase the static from your every thought. It consumed you, drove out your very will and forced you to accept defeat. What were you even fighting for at this point? Your friends? Freedom?

The war had been going on for so long at this point, you weren’t sure you remembered. Optimus Prime—though you’ve never gotten used to calling him that—had tried so hard to keep everyone’s spirit alive. To keep the hope of winning strong.

You weren’t sure you’d say he’d failed, but you definitely weren’t hopeful now. No one was, not if they weren’t insane or a liar.

The impact of your face onto the ground surprised you more than you wanted to or were willing to admit. Pain floods your systems again, your vision going completely black for an awful moment. You hated to consider the option something as stupid as being dropped took you offline. You weren’t weak. You’ve proved it in the mines, on the battlefield, yet this little extra shove seemed to blow your circuits more than you liked.

The voices sound above you, muffled arguing hinting at the nature of your predicament. You grimace, letting your face fall fully against the ground. They were probably debating which one of them got to end you.

When rough hands grab at your helm, you try to fight back. Every movement felt like it’d kill you, sparks from your own fried circuitry burned your face. Then, with a painful tug at something lodged in your helm, the static lifted. You take a harsh vent as your mind clears. You felt alive again, no longer stuck in the hell that was your own mind.

You dare to lift your helm, hoping to face your captors and get in some insults before they blow your processor over the wall. Instead of the grunts you were expecting, you face the dark pedes of the mech that started it all.

“Leave us,” he orders, causing whatever soldiers who grabbed you to quickly flee the room. You wait a second, still stuck on your front with your neck painfully bent to be able to face his pedes. It would be humiliating if you were able to think properly. 

The silence stretches between you until it becomes so heavy you feel you can’t properly vent. The fans under your plating sputter and pop with each second you’re stuck on your stomach, the weight of your own frame causing you to slowly overheat. Megatron lets the silence permeate the room for a few more moments before he takes another step towards you.

Your designation rolls off his tongue so much easier than you expected it to. There was no bite to his words, no underlying bitterness or anger. You shift on the ground where you’re left, ignoring the sparks shooting from your injured shoulder plate. You stare at the monster before you, the mech you once proudly called a friend. 

His plating looked just as weary as your own, his optics dimmed and lacking anything but hatred and contempt. There was pain in his stance, a pain you felt deeply mirrored within your own frame. It was hard to see him like this, to see him as the one who killed Orion and caused him to become the Primus-chosen leader instead. You search his facial plating for any sign of the friend you once knew, the hot-tempered but easy-going miner who just wanted to get through the day with his friends.

It hurts to admit you can’t find him.

“Well,” he prompts, taking a small step towards you. The dark red of his optics burn starkly against his chrome plating, the room’s poor lighting not helping the menacing look. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I’m stuck,” you gripe, letting your forehelm touch the floor once more. You weren’t really stuck. Not truly. You weren’t being held down, and if you could gather the will power, you’d definitely be able to face him on your knees. The problem with that, however, is that you have no desire to make the effort. Whether you stood, knelt, or laid in front of him, the outcome would be the same. There was no part of you that expected to make it out of here with your helm attached to your shoulders.

“Really now,” Megatron chides, his pedes thudding against the ground as he circles you like a helpless animal. Every step makes your helm ache, the vibrations shaking your entire frame. “I always thought you were stronger than that. I’ve heard stories of your retaliation against my troops while you fight against our freedom.”

Megatron stops somewhere to the left of you, the tension growing thicker. You bristle slightly, sighing. His engine revs in anger as he regards you, examining your broken frame tossed upon his floor. “You betrayed me. You’ve betrayed Cybertron. You stood against me and chose to maintain Sentinel’s Primacy-”

“Sentinel’s dead,” you cut him off, irritated at his growing anger. “You fixed that problem. Let it go.”

“Let it go?!” He roars, grabbing the back of your frame and heaving you up. You grimace at the new pains shooting through your spinal struts, trying desperately to find leverage on the ground. “We toiled away in the mines our entire function because of him! He desecrated our bodies before we were even online! And yet you still turn to his beliefs and follow in the Primacy’s footsteps!”

Megatron stares into your face with white-hot fury, his teeth grinding against each other as he waits for you to respond. You can’t respond for a while, unsure what to say or what to do. You hesitate for too long, Megatron’s scowl growing as he throws you back onto the ground. You wheeze at the impact, optics flickering as you try to recalibrate your senses.

“You’re right,” you manage out, coughing up energon and spitting it out onto the floor. You grimace at the rancid taste, trying to clean your tongue on the roof of your mouth. He was right, in the important ways. Sentinel needed to be rid of. Sentinel’s rules needed to be changed. But that had happened, before the war between Megatron and Optimus really started. Megatron got rid of Sentinel, and Optimus got rid of his system. The only problem now was the hatred that had sprouted in the very sparks of the cybertronians.

“Excuse me?” Megatron laughs, walking closer to your limp frame. “Did my audials get miswired? Is the great major of the Autobot army agreeing with me?”

He kicks your arm, trying to get you to meet his optics. You stubbornly refuse, keeping them trained on the ceiling. “I’d never expected to see the day.”

You scoff at his words, leaning your helm back against the cool metal of the floor. “More ‘bots do than you’d expect. Your problem is how you went about it.”

“Right. Because getting the job done is such an issue.”

Megatron fumes above you, pacing next to your side again. You ignore him for the most part, beating down old feelings of warmth and safety he used to bring. He was a different bot now, and so were you. Nothing between you was there, made obvious by his clear disregard for you. You were a means to an end now, nothing but a tool to be used to further hurt Optimus and his fight for the wrong freedom.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Megatron starts again, scowling down at your hapless form. You don’t bother to respond before he starts again, his anger rising and voice growing heavier. He continues to pace, stomping around your head like it would fix all of his problems. “You say you agree with me on the fundamentals, yet you still side with the Prime. You side with the system that ground us down until we were broken and then still demanded more. Sentinel was a traitor and a liar who betrayed our kind. And you still follow his lead.”

“I follow Optimus’s lead, actually.”

The glare that comment earned you could have burnt straight through your frame, his face scrunched up and filled with more hostility than a single bot should be able to possess. His eyes glowed brighter in the dark, his face now leering over your own.

“Do not say that traitor’s name in front of me. He is the same as Sentinel. They’re all the same. True freedom won’t be accomplished until they and every single bot that dares share their ideals are dead.”

The sound of his cannon extending surprises you at first, the warm glow of death casting over your frame. You couldn’t find yourself to be scared as you stare down the barrel of the cannon. It was there, somewhere, but not enough to make you tremble nor react in any significant way. You knew this would happen eventually. Whether now or later down the line, you’d die in this petty war.

“Any last words, Autobot?” He snarls. You stare at him for a second before letting your helm fall back, refusing to show fear.

“Good-bye, D-16.”

He doesn’t wait long for you to speak before you can feel the blast burning through your chest, consuming your spark and your entire being with it. The aching pain from your frame halts, letting you be surrounded in a cold unfeeling. Your optics sputter for a moment more before shutting, letting you fall into the arms of Cybertron itself.

[drdemonprince]

i'd like to say sth abt the x gender marker thing. i've just started getting the paperwork done for it myself, and although its an exhausting grueling bureaucratic pricess, it's filling me w the kind of joy i last felt when i got my first hrt prescription. i know i will have constant difficulties in a system of institutions that have no official way of dealing w nonbinary identities, and i fully expect the openly white nationalist party in my country to become a significant influence in national government within the next 10 years. i also have an escape plan of sorts, but i'm fully expecting that i may be legally detransitioned again. i would still be betraying myself fundamentally and stealing joy from myself, something that i get to have very little of, if i didn't do it anyway, bc i already cannot access plenty of services including healthcare bc i'm simply too dysphoric and institutionally traumatized to show up and be misgendered. there is no such thing as stealth or passing for a nonbinary person in the society i live in, only erasure; i might as well exercise this tiny amount of power i have been given for a brief time to force them to acknowledge me as who i am. i agree that having one's gender be irrelevant to one's personhood, including legally, would be vastly preferable, but i don't see how me getting an x in my id detracts from or otherwise influences that. my government already has plenty of ways of getting lists of trans ppl if they ever want one. i may be painting a target on my back, but as far as i am concerned, it is already there bc i am already incredibly vulnerable and restricted as a trans person for whom passing or stealth is not an option. i might as well get marginalized for who and what i am and make them look me in the eye at a doctor's office while they awkwardly tell me they don't have the infrastructure to process me as a patient than cringe and stammer while i tell them that actually i'm transgender and i would prefer for them to address me as this or that while knowing damn well they just see me as a quirky woman that they may or may not humor for hashtag diversity's sake. they may still do that ofc, but for all the risks and trouble i am incurring, it also corrects the scales of institutional power just a tiny bit in my favor by giving me legal grounds to argue. i'm also terrified of the police for good reasons, but i'm more terrified of them as a misgendered and scared but not out trans person unsure if and how much to advocate for myself than i am as someone confident enough to at least get hurt for who i am, rather than for who i am not and hiding out of fear of worse punishment. i am not advocating for anyone else to do or not do the same bc it is a subjective and highly varied set of risks and rewards that must be personally evaluated, and above all i'm very aware that as a white (not us) person, for all the institutional violence i have previously endured, i would be risking far worse if i were not, but as far as i am concerned, it feels like one of the best, most powerful things i can do for myself right now is to get the damn papers even if in the worst case they end up taking them away from me again.

Thanks for sharing your experience. I remember that when I was nonbinary and not medically transitioning, I felt much the same way. I was ready to really throw myself on the pyre for the sake of just actually being seen as not the gender I had been forced to be, for once. And honestly? Nothing short of medical transition did that. All the changes to my personal style, hair, comportment, voice training, the pronoun pins, the asserting myself, the putting pronouns in my email signature, the changing my medical forms and documentation at work to make me nonbinary, none of it made what felt like any lick of difference in how i was treated, because nonbinary identities are so thoroughly erased. The ONLY thing that got people to start treating me as gender ambiguous or to they/them me was to begin to transition as a trans man and use he/him pronouns, lol. (And eventually, most people did switch over to actually gendering me correctly as a guy, tho I still do get the they/them once in a while which annoys me and it's always VERY telling who tends to do it).

I don't know your situation or if you have medically transitioned in any fashion or not, or if you even want to, and our stories are different, but all of which is to say, I know how immensely frustrating it is and how confining it is to interpreted as your assigned gender seemingly no matter what you fucking do, and that sensation of being willing to take on serious risk to be seen. if anything that was part of what tipped me over into self conceptualizing as a gender nonconforming man rather than outside the binary altogether. different risks that i chose to take on, but still, the decision to take on risk rather than be locked away inside how people saw me.

I think structural nonbinary erasure runs so deep that very few individual level actions can make a dent in it and it's maddening. Of course there's all the intersections with transmisogyny that also impact who is visible as trans and who is not and who finds themselves yearning for greater visibility and those for whom visibility is nothing but massive vulnerability that itself cannot be escaped. But I understand that you've considered everything carefully and are aware of the risks in what you're taking on, and I hope that it does mean you don't feel that confined unseen feeling anymore. Because as much as I'm qualifying things I do know how fucking awful that sensation is and how few avenues there are for doing a damn thing about it that people will take seriously.

[cripplecharacters]

Do people with contracture scars from burns that severely limit movement and function of a limb but pose no other immediate health risk ever choose to get the limb amputated so a prosthetic can be fitted in its place? Or are there other easily accessible options with more minor surgery or treatments?

Hello,

It's possible, but very few doctors wouldn't try to talk them out of it, so the procedure would be against medical advice (AMA.) An amputation is a major procedure and though it's relatively straightforward, a lot can go wrong and even if everything goes right, it is going to be permanently life-changing. Most surgeons aren't going to do a major procedure like that electively, the character is going to be hard-pressed to find someone to do it. Plus, because it's a major procedure, it's going to be expensive. Insurance often doesn't cover elective procedures and almost certainly won't cover an AMA procedure, so the character is going to be paying for the procedure out of pocket. And then there the weeks in the hospital, months of medical treatment, monitoring, and physical therapy, and then thousands of dollars for the temporary prosthetic and thousands more for the permanent prosthetic. People who had medically-necessary amputations have a hard enough time getting insurance to cover even part of all of this, your character will need to pay for all of it on their own and it's going to be, at minimum, tens of thousands of dollars.

Instead, the doctors are going to recommend a number of more mild treatments for the contracture. There are massages to get the scar to loosen up that'll probably start early in recovery, medicated ointments and steriod solutions that can be applied or injected to help, and more tame procedures like skin or tissue grafts or a z-shaped incision to help add more surface area to the skin. Of course, most of the treatment for a contracture scar is going to be preventative, treatment that takes place while the skin is healing and scarring that aims to prevent or lessen contractures. And if all else fails, the character can use mobility aids, most often a rollator or a wheelchair, to get around easier with the contractures.

An amputation is the most extreme option and probably the worst possible option, worse than just letting the scar be and trying to walk around without any mobility aids (possible depending on the severity of the contracture and the location but painful nonetheless.) If the character were to even pitch this idea to their doctor, any doctor worth their salt would immediately point out why they shouldn't do this and tell them about the more accessible options, partially due to ethics and partially because if they let them do this and recommend the unnecessary surgery and the surgeon goes through with it, there's a massive risk they'll be sued and/or investigated and they could end up in jail and lose their ability to practice medicine. In the modern day, this is probably not something that would happen (you might be able to get away with doing it if your setting is back in the times of tonsillectomies and appendectomies over mild swelling before we realized we should treat the inflammation with medication before removing internal organs, but an elective procedure like this is probably not going to happen in modern times.) Plus, getting the entire limb amputated is the opposite of common sense. I don't know one person who would say "These contractures suck, I'm just going to get my entire leg chopped off" unless they're joking. And if they did seriously pitch this idea to their doctor or a surgeon or even to the receptionist or janitor at the hospital, I can't imagine any one of those people wouldn't shoot that idea down as fast as humanly possible.

I'm sure it's something they could probably do if dedicated enough, but it's extremely impractical and very difficult. I'd recommend looking into more mild contracture treatment options.

Mod Aaron

Hi,

I personally don't know anyone who would get an amputation for this reason, which doesn't mean no one does it, but rather that it's pretty damn rare. Most amputations related to burns are either because limb salvage is impossible due to the damage, or infection setting in.

The most basic possible treatment is simply stretching and massaging the contracted joints. The goal is to stretch and soften the skin gradually, and this will be started extremely early in rehabilitation. Moisturizing helps with this process too.

Next step would be splints designed to keep the joint uncontracted. This is especially helpful if muscles are ligaments are involved rather than just the skin. Over time splints will improve range of motion (not necessarily make it good; two different concepts) to support the person's quality of life and allow them to do more activities of daily living (ADL). If the person wears a compression garment then the splint goes on top of it.

If the issue is solely in the skin, then skin release surgery is an option. It's exactly what it sounds and requires skin grafts to give the person better mobility in the joint. However, muscles that were initially unaffected will shorten with time if the contracture persists, so if your character would be getting this surgery 10 years after the initial burn, their muscles would be affected now even if they weren't before.

There are also many other kinds of treatments like tissue expanders that help with growing more skin, z-plasties, rotation flaps, and a bunch of other ones that I'm not too familiar with.

A more possible (though still really rare) reason for an elective amputation after a burn would be for the most common reason elective amputations are performed: severe pain. Severe burns cause nerve damage, muscle damage, skin damage, all things that could potentially result in something like Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. This could be a possible reason for an amputation if, let's say, six years after the initial burn the pain has largely lowered except for the person's ankle that is still at the same level as it was on day one. There amputation could potentially improve the person's quality of life. It could also not do that, but they'd find that after the fact either way. This is a very last resort scenario where everything (!) else has failed, most people will go through tens of surgeries before seriously considering an elective amputation.

Prosthetic wear however is a completely separate thing. Burns are, despite the general perception, sensitive to many things. Temperature, touch, pressure... all things you get from putting something in a prosthetic socket. Burned skin is dry; it cracks easily. It'd be painful to walk on, as you can imagine. Maybe if they only burned their lower half, they could use crutches and get by this way (which is the same thing they'd probably be doing if they had a severe contraction in a leg). After all it's not like prosthetic wear is an easy thing that every amputee can do. Many can't reliably walk in prosthetics, even if their stump is in better condition than of someone with severe scarring on it.

There's simply too many options available for contractures before an amputation, and even more before prosthetic wear. I'd probably reconsider this idea unless you'd be working with someone who actually had this kind of experience.

mod Sasza

[vapolis]

I really want to meet merc's partner in the story and learn more about them. so many opportunities for angst... but also I can't see merc leaving anybody for them at this point. and I can't imagine this meeting not being a huge pile of misery for both parties. merc is all fucked up and broken and so so different, they have a new life with new people in it and leaving this life behind is not really an option right now. if they meet it will probably hurt this person a lot. like a lot. meeting merc already hurts enough, but seeing what they are rn makes it worse. and merc doesn't even know shit. they don't remember anything. and then it hurts them in turn. and I don't even know if remembering would make it all better or worse.

I really like merc. and I'd like them to remember at least something from their past. at least some bits. to remember what and who they were. I don't know if it would help them, but I think they deserve it. and as much as I am a sucker for orla, I really want merc to be respected more. to be more than a tool. to be a person, whose opinion matters, whose life matters, whose feeling matter. I want them to be loved and wanted, I want someone to care for them, to listen to them, to actually listen to them. merc deserves so fucking much and I would give them the world I swear, I love them so much, none of these people deserve them. most of them wouldn't really care if merc went and died and I hate them for it deeply.

also I really need merc to cry, that's a carnal desire of mine. sex is good but my god this bitch (affectionate) needs to let it all out. too bad there's no one willing to listen to them and crying on the bathroom floor is a mood but not when you have to go and kill someone for orla right after. I don't know if there will be a happy ending for this game but oh god I need it. I would kill for a happier and more mentally stable merc I swear. I know I'm not treating them good either by making them romance jax and orla (and that's with their dog x mistress dynamic going on. god have mercy) but still. I have hopes. I don't know if I am a fool for having them but god. I need things to be good. at some point.

I'm so so sorry for this wall of text but I swear I can't make it better and neither can I express my thoughts coherently. but I just love merc. yeah. thanks.

the meeting/reveal of their former partner will certainly be interesting! I don't want to spoil anything but I think it'll be as confusing and angst inducing as possible.

them remembering stuff however... I'm not sure if that would be good or bad for them but how things are rn I'd say merc remembering more would send them spiraling. more than they already are.

orla and merc are complicated as fuck but probably my fave dynamic and the scenes I'm writing for chapter 5 are already soooo. a little further going into the direction of orla acknowledging merc as someone beyond a tool to wield.

and I think I've answered an ask about whether the ROs would care if merc dies and vaguely rmr saying yes... they're not as indifferent to merc as it feels and we're also only on chapter 5. so lots of moments that bring ros and merc closer are still to happen!

I'm personally excited for things to pick up a little more now and one or two of the things you describe are yet to happen :)

[quintessenceofdust88]

Listen. Maybe we are both too pessimistic right now, but I think we have a right to be! Especially with how this season has been the season of rushed plotlines, especially because so far, what they show in 806 was cruel and mean, so - what does it tell us that 807 won’t be that?

Sadly, I do agree with you. I think it’s more likely that Buck ends the ep completely fine and like Tommy doesn’t exist, than he does still sad. I do think that could result in more backlash, and if it happens and if it does - I can’t say I’ll feel bad for 911. If they go down this route they will deserve every bit of backlash they are at the end of.

I think a lot of us are dealing with two ideas:

-The break up was way too open ended, to break them up now didn’t make complete sense, and the make up scenarios could be really good if done right. The door isn’t yet fully closed.

-911 just doesn’t care about their queer rep and will have Buck moving on way faster than he did with Abby, and perhaps by 808 he’s back to who he’s always been, as if nothing had happened.

The way 806 treated its audience, and the subsequent interviews, naturally has us leaning towards the second option. I would LOVE to be proven wrong and be pleasantly surprised by how 911 does this SL (meaning, it doesn’t end in one ep and destroys the relationship further), but I know to have zero hope about it.

Yes, I'm totally with you. And like many people said, if it was just the episode, I'd for sure be thinking it was just a part of break-up/make-up arc, but with the horrible press coverage and the fact all the arcs in this season are being terribly done, yeah. I don't have lots of hope. And I really wish I did cause this sucks.

[valeria-fortnite]

If that is a deep conversation for you then you have bigger problems.

*She scoffs but let's it go for the sake of the bigger questions at hand. After repeating some of the things they've discussed into clearer terms to rewrite down later she clips the recorder onto her jacket.*

Well, this is Don, if he could do something like this would he have even told you? Abusers do not tell their victims their tricks unless they plan on making an abuser out of them too. I would know better than anyone of this.

And not to sound insulting but you are not...eh,

*They wave a hand vaguely.*

You're too good for that.

*Then, the second test begins. If Don can attack Raz then who's to say he can't be attacked right back? It should be easy enough, and it starts out so simple for her end of things. Of course it hurts Raz, but that's a sacrifice that must be made if it means getting one step closer to her goal. The hand holding up the phone trembles as she inches closer and closer until the crackle of the rift can be felt in her bones.*

*Raz speaks up and she huffs.*

Keep looking--

*Her phone clatters to the ground and she gasps out in shock, outstretched hand missing the butterfly and clenching around nothing but dead air before she stumbles back herself. The scene before her was burned into her memory and she heaves air into her lungs like she hasn't breathed in months as she just...watches him. Her lip twitches as another rift butterfly seems to flutter from her coat and press against her cheek. Yet, she doesn't acknowledge it.*

I'm testing a few ideas, Raz, that's all. And I think I've got something figured out, am I just a genius or what?

*She pants out as she removes her shades, eyes wide with the mania of discovery.*

The butterflies, he's got something to do with them, somehow it seems he found a way to use them. That one shoved itself into your ear to escape me when I attempted to keep it distracted by keeping you unaware of what his blog looks like. I see you, Jaws, you tricky son of a bitch.

This is really a new low, like, I'd be more impressed by just how he managed this if it was used for anything productive and not this.

*They kneel down to try and tug at Raz's ear to look inside before stopping themself, instead pulling out a bottle of pain killers from their inventory and a rag.*

Do you think butterflies can rift less than a whole person, like, Plague might be your only option now to get this thing out if it doesn't come out on its own. Which I doubt it will. The cost of science, I suppose. Anything different? Any new pains, thoughts, sights or sounds?

Of course you still have a chance, why, I'm sure he'd be more than glad to welcome you with open arms! I'm sure he's just being patient with you. Couldn't hurt to make the first step for once.

...Shut the fuck up. I was asking myself more than anything else. You just HAD to show your bitchy face here too huh. Just glad to see your favorite person to pester suffer, hm?

Just a REMINDER.. Incase YOU forgot.. Last time I made the first step, he BEAT ME. SO HOW ABOUT YOU LEAVE ME ALONE BEFORE YOU BEING HERE CURES MY HEADACHE LONG ENOUGH TO KICK YOUR ASS.

[quaranmine]

can i pay extra for a phone NOT to have ai

[dkettchen]

me waking up in a cold sweat at 6:20am: "I should get evening classes to be a hair dresser & training to be a makeup artist to be my own hair/make-up person on photo/video shoots and defy industry's single-gender-dominated-and-not-improving department segregation system like the all-rounder online creator that I am 👀😤"

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Wait what's wrong with firefighters?

With my coworkers specifically, nothing if you're into the whole macho, no feelings thing 😅 like the guys I work with are worlds better than some of the other departments I've done ride alongs and trainings at, but they're all still assholes with no brain cells (affectionate) and that just doesn't do it for me irl like it does in fiction lmao

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm really going through it today 🙃

[salvebellaluna]

ahahahahaha

[beeseverywhen]

god the duality between 'I don't want someone in my house' and 'yeah I'd like my own kids and no way I'm doing that alone'

[theheadlessgroom]

https://beatingheart-bride.tumblr.com/post/707565030082805760/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“W-Well, you deserve to sleep comfortably too, Emily!” he insisted right back, as he sat a little more upright: Quite honestly, he’d be more than happy to give her his bed...but he also knew (even before she said so aloud) that she wouldn’t want to deprive him off the bed (especially after he’d just begun getting used to sleep in it...), leaving them once again at a bit of a stalemate...

(For a brief moment, the idea of the two of them sharing the bed crossed his mind, but he very quickly dismissed it, as his face suddenly turned white-hot behind the mask; he supposed that was one good thing about having it, so that Emily didn’t see him blush so hard and ask what the matter was...)

As much fun as it was to playfully to volley teases and arguments back and forth, Randall was now well aware of the tiredness beginning to sink in for him as he sat in his seat, eyelids beginning to grow heavy: Between the rainy, moody skies outside, the rhythm of the rain on the roof, and his own overall tiredness, his will to stay awake was beginning to ebb, as he stifled a little yawn (trying not to appear as tired as he was), saying (as one last weak protest), “I really don’t mind if you take the bed, Emily, r-really, I-I can get perfectly comfortable on the lounger...”

[neverendingford]

,

[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.

[riverfigs]

I've been talking about this with literally everyone I know because I'm incapable of deciding but I can't decide what I'm gonna do for study abroad ACK