#like if I got one of them sorted I'd be good

[biohorror-human]

I used to be super serious about disliking car centric infrastructure. I'd go outside, see streets and stroads, SUV's driven by people who should be driving compacts, pickups driven by people who haven't hauled anything larger than a TV in their life, highways suspended by megalithic concrete pillars over highways suspended by megalithic concrete pillars over highways- and I would be furious internally. I saw this great issue, and it angered me deeply for valid reasons.

One time I was talking to one of my friends and we got to the topic of cars, and they said: "I like cars because I like driving"

And I sort of got floored. You like cars? You like being forced to fight on the highways against people in 5,500 lbs pickups, SUVs, and even god damn cybertrucks??? You, a living breathing human, don't see the horrors of car centric infrastructure and just want to fucking SCREAM?

I sort of unloaded all that anger against them and eventually they shut me up and said "I like the feel of turning the steering wheel and feeling the car move with it. I like accelerating and feeling the change in speed push me back."

And I realized that while they may not understand my criticisms of car centric infrastructure on as deep a level as I do, its not because they can't understand it. They said they liked cars because it feels good to them. This one-off statement that they probably would've forgotten about in minutes is just a concept to them. They live in a car centric society, as far as they're concerned the vehicle is just what they use to make it to work every morning. They weren't analyzing it as deeply as I was because it wasn't about car centric infrastructure as a whole.

And I say this because I relate to you in this way. Your analysis of their fujoshi to male joke is all technically correct, but this post wasn't created with that lens in mind. It's a joke about fujoshis and trans men; not at all in the same vein that political jokes can often be considered the use of humor as a form of persuasive rhetoric. "Fujoshi to male" is not persuasive rhetoric to make people think your gender identity is rooted in your thoughts about yaoi. It is not meant to convince the person who read the joke that societal misogyny and gay fetishization and abuse or power dynamics or all the complex concepts discussed in feminism is unimportant; it's a one-off joke about "what if that girl who reads yaoi actually wants to be a boy in a gay relationship?"

You view everything from a radical feminist lens, and that's good. Do that. I'm not even asking you to stop. But think to yourself, is this built on internalized ideas about trans misogyny and lack of comprehension of feminist ideas, or does this person just like the feeling of turning the wheel and pushing on the accelerator?

Incredible

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I think Voldemort’s resurrection was botched

I was always of the belief that Wormtail messed up the resurrection ritual and that Voldemort’s body wasn't supposed to look like that. Voldemort didn't mind his appearance too much, but he wasn't supposed to look like that.

I was rereading the graveyard scene and found possible evidence for this reading:

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat’s, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. [...] Wormtail’s robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them. “My Lord . . .” he choked, “my Lord . . . you promised . . . you did promise . . .” “Hold out your arm,” said Voldemort lazily. “Oh Master . . . thank you, Master . . .” He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again. “The other arm, Wormtail.” “Master, please . . . please . . .”

I mean, why did he throw Peter like that right after examining his body? Literally, the only thing going on before he does this is Voldy examines his new form, and Peter whimpers off to the side. And after he throws him away he goes over to call the Death Eaters.

To me, this reads like a quick violent reaction since he's unhappy with the results. This looks like a punishment. Why would he punish Peter for giving him back his body unless he got it wrong?

The main flaw with this interpretation is that Harry describes Voldemort’s face as "exultant" which is a sort of extreme joy, usually about a triumph — a positive emotion. This could be attributed to him being happy for having a body at all or, perhaps having a hard time controlling his new form's facial muscles and the expression coming off weird.

But I do admit that if he's unhappy I wouldn't expect his face to be "exultant".

But then again, why did he throw Peter like that when he wanted to use the dark mark? Or if Peter did good, yk? You don't punish someone who does something well, so it's really weird. If he just wanted to get him closer I'd expect it to be phrased a little differently. Like: "and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown at Voldemort's feet" since he wanted to activate the Dark Mark. But that's not what he did.

Just thought I'd point it out as a piece of evidence towards: Voldemort didn't look like that before he died the first time.

(I think he looked a little off, not saying he didn't. I think his eyes might've been red even before, but he had hair and looked like a sickly human (not a snake!) in the interview with Dumbledore in 1967 (I think he didn't look as bad as in the interview either because of how Harry describes his appearance) and he didn't make more Horcruxes between then and the night he killed the Potters, so it doesn't really make sense he'd look snake-like before his death)

[scrompsautobotsrchives]

Autobot’s day out

One of the rewrites that have been stuck in the backlog. Hope you all enjoy it !!. Word count:793

Ahh, the weekend was finally here. No more school to worry about, sleeping in and most importantly, hanging out with your autobot besties. The Saturday sun rose, shining behind your curtains, you yawned as you stretched, rubbing your eyes... damn... 6:30, so much for a sleep in, but one thing will definitely fix that.

So you slowly got up, beginning to shuffle your way to the garage, when you opened the door, Bee sprung to life, transforming and whirring softly.

"Goood morning, good morning to you" The radio played.

"Hey..." You smiled tiredly as you shuffled slowly to him, bestie I need cuddles.

Bee smiled a little and gently opened his arms for you. Laying your head on his chest, you sighed softly as you heard the soft hum of his spark. Your eyes shut, getting some more rest, as did Bee's as he closed his optics. There was nowhere to go until you were ready. He loved being with you, his best friend.

About half an hour later you opened your eyes, yawning softly. You looked up and smiled at Bee, He looked down at you with the soft optics, whirring softly. "Sleep... Well ??" His radio scratched.

You nodded. "Thanks for putting up with that" You chuckled softly.

"I don't mind..." He gently pressed his digit on your head, ruffling your hair. "Want to... Go somewhere ??"

You nodded. "I'd like that"

He whirred eagerly, you then went back and got ready, grabbing some things before heading back to him, transforming and revving his engine.

"Where we off to navigator ??" You said as you got in the car.

He whirred softly and began to drive. On one of his many mini trips, he found a secluded beach that he thought looked pretty. So he organised with Optimus and Mirage to come hang out while you were grabbing your items. He drove away from the city for a while before coming up to the deserted beach.

"Woah..." You hopped out and looked out into the ocean. Pure crystal blue and the sand was nice and warm. "This is amazing"

Bee whirred as he transformed, taking in the sight as well. "Pretty..."

Before the others arrived, you showed Bee your sand castle-building skills. He clapped as cheers played on the radio. "Beautiful"

"Pretty cool huh ?? Some people can make them really tall"

"Like... cities ??" He tilted his head a little.

"Sort of, Wanna give it a try ??"

He nodded, he wasn't sure how good he'd actually be at it, but hey there's a first time for everything right ?? So the two began to try and make the best sand castle possible. Bee did his best, big servos, lots of holes and odd joints make for hard sand castle molding, but he still tried !!.

Soon you both heard the familiar engines of Optimus and Mirage coming in, Mirage tried to make a cool landing as he transformed, but ending up eating sand and landing into your sand castle.

"Pleh !! Was meant to do that... PPFF" He said as he spat the sand out.

Bee meanwhile was crashing out from seeing his Picasso ruined, you heard all forms of profanities in the forms of beeping on the radio. It was kind of hilarious. You heard thuds behind you and looked up at Optimus.

"It is good to see you again y/n" He nodded, twitching a small smile, you two were still in the getting to know phase but he was slowly warming up.

"You as well" you nodded then hearing a big splash as bee tossed Mirage into the water.

"Oh it's on now" Mirage smiled and rolled his shoulders. You giggled and joined the three in the water. Bee dipped his servo in the water and gently splashed you.

"Gahh !!" You rubbed the water from your eyes and splashed him back, he stumbled from 'the tidal waves' falling down.

"So... Powerful" He got up.

You decided to take a break and enjoy a snack and some water, you could see that Optimus looked deep in thought as he watched 'his boys' playing in the water.

"You ok ??" You looked up at him.

"Your world has it's moment's of beauty" He hummed softly.

"it does" You nodded. "There is so much beauty in this world... It's worth protecting"

"Your world has proven to me that it can be more than meets the eye" He looked down at you.

You laid your head softly against his frame, to your surprise, Optimus didn't flinch or retract, he... embraced it. You've practically become his child so you were now worth protecting among the many things in this world. It was a fun day out, Bee made the right call.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it, requests are always open.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon 3 Prompt 18

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Tomura propositions Dabi after the war is won and Dabi is healed. Any kinks! (I chose none)

Content: League Wins the War, Sex Club, Oblivious!Dabi, Jealous!Dabi, Fluff

Winning the war was... good, all things considered. He got to fight his father with the world watching and he got to sink his hands into his chest and hold onto his ribs as they blackened and crumbled to ash beneath his fingertips. And then his hands had turned to ash too. He hadn't even been in pain at that point he was too high on the adrenaline and pain, but he had been ready to die as they started to fall from the air, neither of them able to keep their heat high enough to keep them airborne. He was dying, but he had finally got the thing he'd lived for and Dabi had been happy. 

And then Shigaraki had lost ground in a major fight with All Might's successor so he could turn around and catch him. Not only that, but he had bailed, moving across the battlefield until he found his youngest brother where he'd left him after their fight, Dabi only winning against his perfect quirk because he used Shoto's desire to protect others to take a cheap shot at him, and Shigaraki had grabbed onto him with one hand while pressing his other to Dabi's chest. He stole his brother's quirk and funneled it into him alongside a hit from his regeneration quirk and had brought him back from the brink of death to stronger than he had ever been before. He watched Shoto crumble away as Decay ate through him once he'd been completely drained and Dabi, he thinks, had been on the verge of shock. But Duster had wheeled around with fury in his eyes and snarled, 

"You don't get to die." And had gone right back to carving his way through the world that abandoned them. And they won. It was only after the fact, when they had what remained of the heroes kneeling at their feet, restrained and surrendering that Dabi realized that none of them expected to win. He had always known that his villainy was a long prelude to his suicide, but when Toga had thrown herself into his side and started sobbing because she wished Jin and Magne could have been there too, he realized that she thought she would end up like them before the end of this fight. 

The only person who never doubted was Shigaraki, and he had immediately switched gears and started using the things that AFO had taught him to get things back in order. They'd all seen him do it with the PLF once, so they fell in line. It still took years, but eventually, they were able to get things settled enough that they could actually live their lives in the new world they made for themselves. They all stayed involved running that world, but Dabi and Tomura were the most involved on a day-to-day basis. Tomura always intended on being king, and since Dabi had planned to die and never wanted anything afterward, he just threw himself right back into that to keep his mind occupied. 

It was kind of weird when he saw Tomura starting to loosen up more though. He still is a giant dork who likes video games and will use nerd speak when he's talking, but he likes other things too, though some of those things had Dabi's mouth hanging open when he asked about him taking money from the League's personal project budget to finally do a project of his own and he found out that Tomura was planning on building a nightclub. 

"You like to... club?" 

He'd shrugged slightly, "Sort of. I'm rebuilding a place I used to visit in Kamino. It was part night club, part BDSM lounge, part love hotel, I usually got more use out of the latter two, and since we are making more sex work legal, I wanted to make somewhere that can be seen to exemplify how workers should be treated." 

Dabi stared at him for a long moment, "...You're not a virgin?" 

Tomura had given him a slightly bewildered look before he laughed. "No, but if you want proof of that, I'd be happy to take you to the club when it's finished." Dabi had flushed, the new quirk under his skin keeping that from making him actually start to overheat and had swiftly turned his attention to their work. 

But the words hung in the air between them for a long time. For the eight months it had taken for the building to be remade and finished. It really turns into a hub for debauchery if what Dabi sees out of it are to be believed. The nightclub and lounge will run mainly at night, but the love hotel will be open 24/7 and the club area will be able to put on workshops with subjects ranging from how to safely get involved in the kink community to how to start working in the industry with JAV companies sponsoring some of those events, and a free once a month STI screening event. It's... a lot, and  Dabi isn't going to pretend that he isn't a little surprised by how much... fun Shigaraki seems to be having helping the people he's reached out to for the project set it up. He mocks him constantly about it, saying how he didn't realize how much of a huge pervert the other man is, but the closer things get to the club actually being able to open, the more Dabi understands that this really is something the other man wants. 

"I want to come to the opening!" Toga says the day before the event and Dabi has to kick the instinct to tell her that she's too young for that given she is turning twenty-one in a few months. He wonders if he just is never going to stop seeing her as a little sister. 

"The event is open to anyone who wants to come," Tomura says easily, "But if you're going to go, don't do it just to gawk at people who are actually there to participate. Make sure to read the club guidelines and decide what areas you're okay with going into." 

"Which ones are you gonna be in, boss?" It's immediate to mock him, but when he glances up from his work to do so, he finds red eyes on him, his expression unreadable to him for the first time in years. 

"I'm not sure yet. I guess it depends on if you ever decide whether you want to go or if I'm attending the opening night on my own." 

Toga laughs at them both, clearly not taking the words to heart the way Dabi hadn't the first time, but they don't feel very funny now. Not when it becomes clear that Tomura really has been thinking about them for all of the time it has taken to get the club set up.

And Dabi is still thinking about it the night of the grand opening. He and Tomura finished their work today and as he was getting ready to depart, Tomura had opened his mouth. Dabi had cut him off, leaving the room as he did, "Have fun tonight, leader." Because he had been too scared to find out what he actually wanted to say. He went right home and fully intended to not think about what Shigaraki was doing tonight. It's not any of his business even if the other man had been... testing the waters? Trying to ask him out? Dabi hasn't ever even been in a relationship before. No way he was planning on getting into one with Tomura of all people.

He focused on making dinner and then went to find something to do with the rest of his night. The club wasn't even opening for another hour or two. He showered, tried to find something new to read, tried to find something to watch, and as he did, following the same routine that he has been since they finished integrating their new government, there was a hollowness that he started to notice in the actions. He'd planned on dying in the war and now, outside of their work, all he was doing was killing time until he could go back to that work just so he wouldn't have to see how little else he was doing. He doesn't have any plans on how to fill up this life now. He just... thought that he would be doing this until he died. 

Dabi doesn't know what to make of it when his stomach sinks as he realizes that Tomura is going to have a life beyond work. He made a place to fill up his time with, a place where he can find... someone else to help him with that. He's seen the promo photos for the club with men, women, and anyone in between hanging off of each other, promising professional companionship to those who want it, and real connections for those who are looking. Tomura asked him twice, he'd blown him off both times and nipped it in the bud before he could try a third. He would be beyond within his rights to... find that for himself. But the idea of that makes Dabi so sick to his stomach that he finds himself pushing up from his couch and turning to head to his closet. He doesn't have a single item that is appropriate for a club, not when his whole life has been working or sleeping for the past six years, but it's not too late yet.

Dabi manages to arrive at the club, appropriately dressed thanks to Compress knowing where he should go to shop on short notice, about twenty minutes after the club has finished their opening ceremony. Music is already thrumming through the building, and Dabi doesn't know if he's ever been more out of place as he makes his way through the night club area and towards the 'play' area. It's not hard to find Tomura from there, for as desirable as so many of the other entertainers and club goers are, no one can really match up to the king, and he spots the other man sitting at a table with three other people, two of them clearly a couple all on their own and talking with enthusiastic smiles on their faces, and the third a young, busty woman who is trying to plaster herself against Tomura's side. He seems to be entertaining her affections as he continues his conversation and Dabi's stomach sinks. He blew him off. This is his own damn fault--

Red eyes catch his and Tomura freezes, surprise actually coming across his features. He turns to the people at his table and the three of them give polite smiles before all three vacate and Dabi hesitantly moves over to him before Tomura can stand. 

"Did something happen?" There is concern in his voice, like he really doesn't believe that Dabi would have just come here on his own. It's all adrenaline and instinct that has him using a hand to push Tomura back against the bench before he climbs into his lap. He doesn't care how many people are watching, just that he might not be too late to make this happen when he was too blind to see that he wanted it when it was offered to him the first time. Tomura tenses slightly beneath him, his eyes searching his face again before Dabi breathes, 

"You couldn't have asked me to a movie or something first?" 

And that changes the look of concern to exasperation as his hands move to his hips, stroking the naked skin there, his new pants low on his hips and his chest only wrapped in a harness made of black floral lace. "Firefly, I've asked you to dinner twenty-seven times in the past six years, to the movies thirty times, and to other outings at least fifty. This," He says, pulling him closer in his lap and putting heat beneath Dabi's skin as they're pressed so tightly together, "Was my last resort. I didn't think there was any way you would be able to misconstrue how much I want you if I asked you here.” 

"Oh." 

"Yeah." Tomura, thankfully, doesn't mock him any further, letting that information sink in, but Dabi locks it away before his humiliation makes him want to run for the hills when he just got on board and showed up to the life that Tomura has been trying to give him since he pulled him back from the edge of death during the war. 

"Show me what you used to do here?" They're already skipping the other stuff, might as well make up for lost time now anyway. He knows it was the right call when Tomura pulls him into a kiss so hot that Dabi's quirks start to war with each other beneath his skin. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to participate in the event, consider checking out my Ko-Fi here!

[syrupmap]

I have been thinking about this for months. And now this post is popping up in my reblogs again. So I thought I'd write down some of my thoughts on this.

For his sixth birthday, (this might have been just after his mother died) little Benton wanted to play in the mud with a toy bulldozer. But he got a book. Was he even able to read at six? Did he at least get a book with fun pictures?

For his seventh birthday, he asked for a go-kart. Instead, he might have gotten Huckleberry Finn. For his eighth, he asked for a Johnny Seven. Maybe he got On Civil Disobedience or The Little Prince. At nine, he just wanted a guppy. He could have been handed On The Rights of Men or To Kill a Mockingbird instead. When he turned eleven, he probably put another book in his toy box and realized it didn’t contain a single toy at all.

Just books. Seditious reading material he calls it. So, banned books? Revolutionary manifestos? Things too big for the mind of a boy who's not even a teenager but given to him anyway, because his grandmother decided he didn’t need to play. He needed to learn.

And it’s sort of funny until you picture it... A little boy sitting on the floor, turning The Social Contract over in his hands, wondering if he should rip up the papers and fold them into a model airplane.

A kid who never crashed a go-kart and got scrapes and bruises, never launched a plastic missile from a Johnny Seven while dramatically yelling and fake dying. Who would he even fake go to war against? He never named a guppy something ridiculous and cried when it died (but Benton, one single guppy? In a traveling library in the freezing cold? I must agree with his grandmother on this one).

Little kid Benton wanted to play and was told, no, you get this instead.

But the person who did this to him wasn’t cruel. She was trying to make him strong, heroic, like she was. When a fire surrounded her schoolhouse, she waded into a freezing river, held onto a burning tree, and kept the children alive. The heat melted her hair and burned her skin, but she didn’t let go.

She raised him to hold on, no matter how much it burned. And now, years later, here he is, in the middle of City Hall, filibustering into the night, gripping that podium like it's the last tree standing in a fire, refusing to sit down, refusing to shut up, because this is what she taught him to do.

And maybe she was right. Maybe the books were exactly what he needed. Maybe they made him the kind of man who could stand alone in a room full of power and not blink. They made him into a hero.

But that boy with no toys is still in there, somewhere. And he never learned how to let go.

“I never give up, it's not in my nature.”

This also made me think about his Christmases. And how he didn't really get to spend a lot of time with his dad. And how that also shaped him. And about how he's even a bit too intense for Bob Fraser. How his dad is proud of him, but also finally sees what this has done to his son (the branch that cannot bend must break).

Bob: So what are you hoping to get these wise men to do?

Fraser: Their duty.

Bob: Theirs or yours? You know, son, not everyone thinks the way you think, not everyone has your dedication, your commitment, your, your, well, frankly, your rigidity.

Fraser: I'm only doing what you taught me.

Bob: Well I've learned a few things since I died.

Fraser: Such as?

Bob: Well, I wish I'd spent more Christmases with you. And the branch that cannot bend must break.

---

Fraser: Ray, just think about it, two good men, one who should be accorded the respect due his age, one little more than a boy. They are frightened. They're frightened and ashamed. And they've good reason to be frightened. They don't think they can stand up to the Warfields of this world. Well I can. And I will.

---

Fraser: Do you think I'm being selfish and single-minded?

Bob: Oh, you're more than that son. You're obsessive, overbearing, possibly even arrogant.

Fraser: Well, thanks a lot dad, that makes me feel a whole lot better.

Bob: But you've been right.

Benton Fraser's birthday wish list

Age 6: toy bulldozer

Age 7: go cart

Age 8: Johnny 7

Age 9: guppy

Received: the most seditious reading material available through mail order

[golurkkoopa]

.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

tonight I go to bed grateful not to be in my bnha phase right now

[boysborntodie]

Me @ to anyone, please anyone, I am begging you-

[13eyond13]

.

[dan-crimes]

My sibling is trying to out Link me, you DARE QUESTION THE OG!! THE MASTER !! THE HOLDER OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF LINK !!!!!

[ourceliumnetwork]

y'know. i don't often hate the way my brain is and how difficult it makes certain things for me.

i do a little today though.

[katyspersonal]

It just will forever baffle me how unfair he has been. He kept constantly blaming me for all that was going wrong in his life, he could get upset to the point of wanting to hurt himself or worse over things as little as me disagreeing with his creative ideas or not wanting to listen to something he wanted to share at the moment, he abandoned his friend he knew for two years because he got interested in me too much to give her enough - and then because he convinced himself she didn't care for him anymore.

And I knew, all along, that I was not right for him. I kept telling him to keep reaching out and seek friends that he'd actually like and actually get along with. I kept insisting that he was doing it to himself by clinging to me where clearly he hated me to the point I could've hurt him by as much as setting up boundaries, having different opinions or having limitations as a human being. I told him that that friend he abandoned still cared for him and he could not just decide FOR her. But over and over, he denied everything and begged me to stay, saying how much he wanted to have future together, how I was like a sister he lost a chance to have, how we were supposed to share life experiences together and how I was the only one that felt "real". I kept sticking around despite the abuse, despite how much he was ruining my mental health and my social life (being abused distances you from even close people), all because I could not stand seeing him so hurt and alone. And the last deceit hurt especially bad, because he made me truly believe him. He said something that made me lose my guard, my focus on the fact that I was just a placeholder in his life until he finds someone fitting.

And just like I kept saying, as soon as he got enough money for good life, his mental health improved upon switching meds or something, he met a new friend and reconnected with that exact one he abandoned earlier - he declared me a dead weight on his life that has only been "killing" him and declared that the almost two years he spent with me were just a bad dream he was happy to finally forget.

I knew all along that the best thing I could do for him was to leave him, but I never did. I should have before he stopped caring for me entirely out of blue, because now he didn't even learn anything. He lost nothing of value in his eyes, just a person that "wasted his time". So what if his current friends """fail""" him again? He'll just seek an outlet in new ones, until they prove "useless" and he'll ditch them too, and so on. Some people just can't appreciate someone's personality, they only value people for what they can give to them. Or.. is it just me? At times I am genuinely annoyed when people tell me I am a valuable person and anyone who can't love and appreciate me is an idiot, because on the contrary, in my life all people that despised me and saw me as a waste of their time the most were all high IQ, very well-read and educated, very sophisticated individuals. Clearly, there is a correlation between being very smart and deeming me as human garbage - in a way jealous haters, hypocritical control freaks and callous ableists I've met online never could.

Honestly, sometimes I should decide for someone else. I always knew he hated me and splitting with me was to the better for him, but I let his tears and clinginess force me to feel bad and go back every time. And to doubt that maybe I was the delusional one and could not be sure of someone else's needs. Honestly, guys - when you are given every single indication that you are hated and only kept around out of their fear of loneliness and low self-esteem... it is all there is. It is not a situation where you should listen to your heart, to hope or to give benefit of the doubt. Being abused is something you can only comprehend with mind and knowledge, there is no bigger story and no intricate matters.

Still, I hate how as painfully stupid and naive for my age as I am, I've been able to understand things way more correctly than a much older, much more mature person with high intellect and tons more of life experience. I was right all along, but I hate being right sometimes. And I hate always being discarded as soon as people's lives improve. I hate always being just a placeholder. Apparently, no one whose life is good would ever want to burden themselves with me.

[anothermonikan]

i never got burying yourself in your work to avoid all your other problems. until now. save me sweet coding work~

[arolesbianism]

The Joshua section of my oni playlist is looking great so far

[stinkbeck]

i'm like "HELL yeah i gotta listen to 'So What!'" and then i do and 2 seconds in i'm crying and being like "why do i hate my life"

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.