#Det Gar Over

[jaysinkie]

#NowPlaying "Det Går Over" by ODARA x Chris Baco

–– | orcd.co/detgarover (stream/buy) –– | www.instagram.com/ohddara –– | www.instagram.com/chrisbaco

[basicbats]

oh i do noooot like this 💀

[clonegirl99]

Wolffe & Tooka

My Null gave me the prompt: “so there I was, knee deep in brass with a sore elbow.”

This was definitely not what he was expecting but pretty sure he’s not complaining.

Smut. It’s smut. With my favorite grumpy commander.

“So, there I was - knee-deep in spent tibanna canisters with a sore elbow, SBDs bearing down on me from all sides. No anti-armor weapons or even a basic thermal det. I’m down to just half an energy clip and my wits…”

“So, just half an energy clip?”

The older trooper sitting on the other side of the man in plain, shiny white armor choked and looked away, clearly amused by your withering remark.

“Have you ever even heard a shot fired in anger, kid?”

The rookie is turning redder and redder by the second, shrinking into his unscathed armor.

“Look, I’m sure you’re great in the combat sims. Come back in six months, after you’ve actually caught a body and lost a brother. Maybe you can impress me with a story then.”

He slinks away like a kicked dog.

“… Still not going to be impressed,” you mutter under your breath with a roll of your eyes that warns of a coming headache. You should really just go home for the night. You’ve been awake far too long and it was becoming clear that the sentient source you were supposed to meet wasn’t going to show.

Typical.

Every lead your editor had given you has turned out this way. It was a stupid story anyway. Who cares if Senators are shacking up? There’s a war on and you were more interested in the recent debate on clone rights and chatter among Coruscant’s political elites about a potential pension system for GAR soldiers. Your editor has dismissed your proposal of an in-depth examination of clones’ attitudes toward the policy proposal, saying no one cares what “meat droids” think.

The racist scughole needed to retire before you got fed up and put him out to pasture yourself.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you stand and try to flag down the bartender for your check, though she seems rather distracted by a Corrie Guard man.

“Drink’s on me.”

You turn to face the source of the unexpected voice - the trooper who had found your dressing down of his clone brother so amusing. He turns to face you and your annoyance fades. A long scar and cybernetic eye tells half a story that the haunted, hardened look behind his other eye completes.

“Least I can do for the entertainment,” he adds with a smirk that only slightly softens his face.

You’re debating another biting remark when he continues. “Name’s Wolffe.”

“Explains the paint job,” you respond, indicating the gray and white emblem on his shoulder bell.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

You snort a laugh at his sardonic remark, which seems to please him.

“That’s why they called me ‘Sniper’ in university.”

“Sniper? Really?” He clearly doesn’t believe you.

“No. But why let the truth get in the way of a good story?”

He nods, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “So what did they call you in university then?”

“Just my name.”

“Which is?”

You almost don’t tell him but something about him piques your curiosity enough to want to extend this brief exchange into an actual conversation, so you relent.

He nods. “Why are you drinking alone on a week night, y/n?”

“Could ask the same of you,” you toss back.

The corner of his mouth turns up again before he turns to gaze at something you suspect he doesn’t want to see but can’t escape.

“Ghosts?” you venture.

“Pardon?” He snaps back to the present moment.

“Ghosts. You’re drinking with ghosts?”

He looks you over with the sharp eyes of a seasoned strategist before deciding whether to answer.

“You could say that,” he finally says, his voice lower.

You sit in the stool vacated by Private Pick-Up Line, your back leaning against the bar. “I know the feeling,” you offer.

“Yeah?” It drips with bitterness.

“Yeah,” you say, fighting the defensive snark reaction you’ve relied on for decades. “Lost my whole family in a bombing attack when I was a kid. Half the neighborhood. The school. So, yeah. I’m used to drinking with ghosts.”

He clears his throat. “Erm. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be. You didn’t do it. Unless you did, in which case I’m going to take out your good eye after I cut off your balls.”

He lets out a brief, surprised laugh.

“Judging by that scar and the scuffs on your armor, you’ve lost plenty yourself, so let’s call it even. After you buy me another drink.”

He smirks and looks at you with appreciation. “I’m usually the one giving orders.”

“I would hope you’re off duty if you’re in here, Captain.”

“Actually, it’s Commander.”

“Well, pardon me, sir.” You give him a playful exaggerated bow. “I’m still not a soldier, so I’m just going to call you Wolfy,” you tease.

He huffs what you think might be a laugh and looks away for a second before flagging down the bartender, who responds remarkably quickly for someone who had managed to so studiously avoid you earlier.

“Another one, Commander?” she simpered.

“And whatever my lovely companion here would like.”

She looks at you blankly and rolls her eyes when you order mineral water.

He looks at you with an eyebrow raised. “They don’t pay us much, but I can afford an actual drink, you know.”

You snort another laugh. “From what I hear, it took an actual hostage situation to get you boys anything at all.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that report, ma’am.” His eyes sparkle when he looks at you again. “If I remember correctly, there’s a reporter by the same name who’s been writing about clone rights…”

“Never heard of her,” you say with a wink.

He picks up the glass of amber liquor the bartender has placed in front of him and raises it toward you. “I’ll still toast to her health.”

You touch the rim of your glass to his. “To the men of the GAR.”

He takes a deep swig and offers you what may be the closest thing to a smile his face can manage. “Never answered my question.”

“My name? Yes I did. Did you miss that part of the conversation? Thought we were actually talking about it just now.”

He gives you a deeply unamused look.

You play dumb until he relents with a twinkle in his eye.

“Why is an attractive investigative journalist known for advocating for clone rights drinking alone on a week night?”

You give him a playful nudge. “Well, as you can see, I’m not really drinking. I was supposed to be meeting a Senate aide about some scandalous rumors.”

He raises his eyebrow at you again, silently inviting you to go on.

“My editor is trying to bury me in braindead tabloid assignments so I can’t stir the pot too much. Source didn’t show, then that kid tried to chat me up with his cheap lines. Night seems to be looking up, though.” You give his shoulder another nudge and he smirks.

Wolffe takes another swallow of his drink then looks into his glass like he’s contemplating the secrets of the galaxy for a brief moment before taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

The question catches you off guard but you find yourself standing and grabbing your bag before you even fully process what’s happening.

He smirks and tosses some cred chips on the bar before placing a confident hand firmly at the small of your back and ushering you authoritatively out of the bar. Once in the street, he tucks your hand into the crook of his arm and covers it with his other hand like he’s escorting you.

It’s unexpected yet comforting.

“Where are we going, Wolfy?”

You think you hear a quiet growl.

“Your place.”

You laugh softly and look up at him, biting your lip.

“My place, hm?”

“I’m not doing this in an alley.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” you laugh. “I might be a cheap date, but not that cheap.”

Your quip earns you another smirk from the commander.

“Something tells me you’re not cheap at all, little tooka.”

“You would be correct, Commander. I normally require much more before I take a man back to my place.”

“Something you do often?”

“No, actually.”

“So what makes me special?”

“Don’t know, but…” You grin. “Something about you, Wolfy.”

“I’m flattered.” It almost sounds sarcastic; he seems to catch it too late and winces. “I am.”

“Shall we go then?”

“Lead the way, little tooka.”

You move quickly and quietly through the streets, avoiding eye contact with anyone you pass, especially the other troopers outside the bar. He’s eager to get to privacy where he doesn’t have to worry about subordinates or gawping civilians.

As soon as your apartment door slides shut behind you, he has you pinned to the wall with an aggressive kiss. He growls and bites your lower lip hard enough that it approaches the line between erotic pain and the real thing.

He pauses at your intake of breath, raising a hand to cup your chin so he could look you over. “Too much?”

“N-no,” you stammer before recovering. “Unexpected but I don’t know what I expected from a man named Wolffe.”

He rolls his eyes and you grab his utility belt to pull him closer.

He responds to the provocation with another passionate kiss. The intensity of this handsome man overwhelms you in a way that makes you want to surrender to anything he wants to do to you.

“You complaining?”

“Kark, no.”

With that, he pulls you away from the wall, whipping you around so fast that you squeal and wrap your arms around his neck. It makes him smirk again.

“That the kind of sound you’re going to be making for me all night?” he growls.

“Maybe,” you respond in a breathy voice. “I think the real question is, can you make me make those sounds all night?”

“Oh, little tooka, that pretty mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble.”

You nip his bottom lip. “That a threat, Wolfy?”

He growls, louder this time, and drops to the floor, pulling you with him so that you lie under him with one of his thick, armored thighs between your legs. A targeted roll of his hips presses the plate against your heated mound and you can’t help the high-pitched sigh that escapes between your lips.

You’re caged in by his powerful arms, his considerable weight looming over you. You are prey trapped in a corner by a ruthless predator, waiting with excitement to feel his bite sinking into your trembling flesh.

He lowers himself so that his lips just graze yours. “Oh, little tooka, I don’t make threats. I already gave you your only warning, pretty girl.”

“Yeah? And now what?” You can feel your quickening pulse thrumming against the leg unrelentingly pressing against your clit. It takes all your resolve to not grind down and chase the sensation to climax.

He shook his head before dipping down to bite your earlobe with another carnal growl. “Now,” he whispers in your ear. “Now, little tooka, the consequences for that smart mouth are coming due.”

He latches onto your neck with his teeth and puts his dexterous hands to work, taking you apart with the confidence of a master strategist. No centimeter of newly-bared flesh is left untouched by his rough hands and eager mouth. By the time he has you down to just your panties - still fully clothed and armored himself - there is a sizable and visible wet spot soaking the fabric covering your core.

He smirks with satisfaction as he rises to his knees between your legs and studies the quivering, bruised, achingly aroused woman laid out before him who is doing her best to not beg him for more.

He watches you squirm and writhe as he slowly removes his armor, stacking the plates neatly on the floor next to you. He takes his time, occasionally brushing the back of knuckles over your clothed sex, deliberately winding you up, appreciating the way you react and then pout when he stops.

“What’s wrong, little tooka?” he taunts as he places the last of his leg plates aside, codpiece still firmly in place. You know it must be uncomfortable judging from the darkness in his eyes and his quickened breath.

You giggle, cut short by an excited gasp when he cages you in again, filling your senses with him.

“Wolf’s got my tongue,” you recover.

He takes it as an invitation and kisses you savagely, pressing you hard into the cold tile of the floor. The fabric of his black undersuit lets through the delicious heat of his body, making you melt faster.

Suddenly there’s a hand between your bodies and down the front of your panties. You let out a ragged moan when one finger glides through your pooling slick, earning a menacing chuckle from him. It’s gone just as soon as it was there and you find yourself pouting before you watch him suck your lust off the digit and close his eyes like he’s trying to focus entirely on how you taste on his skin.

And then he’s back on his feet, releasing the fastenings of his codpiece.

“On your knees,” he snarls.

You obey instantly, your usual bratty urges nowhere to be found.

“Look at my good little tooka, leaping to obey. Do you want a treat for being such a good girl, little tooka?”

You hum affirmatively and watch with hungry eyes as he pulls his cock out through the fly of his undersuit.

You’ve spent untold hours socializing with clones, had flirted with plenty, and had even enjoyed a couple of sloppy make out sessions with a charming ARC trooper, but this is the first time you’d seen what those shiny white codpieces are protecting.

No wonder some of them were so damn arrogant.

“Oh, you do want a treat, don’t you, my hungry little tooka?”

He strokes himself a couple of times, bringing his already impressive girth to full attention, before grabbing a fistful of your hair and tipping your head back.

Velvety skin and the slight salty tang of his arousal make your mouth fall open. You fully expect him to fuck your face and throat until you gag and choke, but he doesn’t. He seems to enjoy using your mouth to tease himself instead. Some of the tension seems to leave his jaw as he stares down at you with an expression of awe and… gratitude?

You decide to give him a show, bobbing on his cock and gazing up at him through lowered lashes while your tongue swirls over and around the blunted head. He responds with shaking breaths and a tighter grip on your hair. For all his (absurdly hot) aggression and dominance, he seems to have happily given himself over to you.

“Kriff, pretty girl…” he sighs, head falling back in surrender to luxurious pleasure.

You tug at the tight black bodysuit, trying to get access to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, bringing him back to the present.

He pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop and a grunt before letting go of your hair, taking a few steadying breaths, and offering you a hand.

“Bed or couch?”

“In a hurry, Wolfy?”

“Yes,” he answers with surprising candor then yanks you to your feet and presses you hard against him, stealing your breath with a rough kiss. “I need to make you scream. Bed or couch?”

“Bed. More options.”

He scoffs and hurries you in the direction of the open bedroom door.

You bend over sharply, teasing him with a bit of a show as slide your damp panties to the floor. But then you hear a growl and find yourself on your back, staring at Wolffe, already stripped of the bodysuit.

“I need to see that pretty face while I ruin you, little tooka.”

Your smartass remark doesn’t even make it to your lips before you cry out in surprise as he fully sheathes himself in you with a single, smooth, powerful thrust. You pant and try to assess if it hurt but you’re so wet with anticipation of this exact moment that all you feel is the molten pleasure of being stretched and filled by this man who can’t take his warm, brown eyes off of you.

“Fierfek…” He tests a few long, slow strokes. “Don’t think…” His breath shudders as he snaps his hips against yours in an increasingly manic rhythm. “Don’t think I… kriff… ever… ah, Kriff…”

His eyes are screwed shut tight now, which you barely register as every nerve in your body lights up with the tension that is growing tighter and tighter in your belly and core.

“Never… before… I’m… kark, y/n, I’m not gonna last… You… feel so…”

The admission… the harsh grip of his big hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips… the deep, pounding thrusts that force the breath out of you and make your breasts bounce… the obscene wet sounds of your cunt being plundered by his massive cock… his ragged breaths…

You cry out, squealing and sobbing, as your entire body explodes like sparked rhydonium.

“Kark,” you barely hear him growl. “Can I… inside…?”

“Yes! Yes! Kriff, yes, Wolffe!”

He throws his head back with a roar and you feel him spill inside you as your body begins to come down. His release seems to go on and on as he shudders and grunts, finally slowing to a halt, still seemingly rock hard inside you.

He collapses forward, catching himself on his forearm just in time to avoid crushing you and kiss your sore lips tenderly. His face is softened of its earlier severity.

“Pretty little tooka…” He kisses you again, giving a soft moan rather than growling now, and rolls over onto his back.

A whimpering gasp escapes you when he leaves you empty, the hot rush of your mutual ecstasy spilling onto the bed.

“Kriff - did I hurt you?” He sat up quickly, eyes scanning your face.

“Not at all.” You hum a laugh and let your head lull to the side to rest against his arm. “Didn’t like you pulling out so fast.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest and he gives you what you can only describe as a wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, my pretty little tooka. If you let me sleep here, we’ll do that a few more times before I have to go back to base.”

“Mmm… if I let you.”

He scoffs with a chuckle, so much more relaxed now than when you’d first met. He shifts to pull you into an almost-cuddle, your head on his shoulder.

“What if I say, ‘pretty please,’ my pretty little tooka?” he mumbles in your ear before giving you a playful growl and nipping your earlobe.

“Maybe if you beg…”

“I just might…”

“Hmm… we’ll see.”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while, pretty girl.” He presses an unexpected kiss to the top of your head. “After a little sleep…”

[alexbkrieger13]

https://www.tumblr.com/alexbkrieger13/749927374890680320/interesting?source=share

In detail

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/rosengard-och-fc-kopenhamn-gar-samman-det-ar-dubbelklubbarnas-framtid

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/rosengard-hjalper-fc-kopenhamn-kan-bli-konkurrenter

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/caroline-seger-och-therese-sjogran-hyllar-samarbetet-business-over-sundet

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/malmo-ffs-sportchef-daniel-andersson-vetat-detta-ett-bra-tag

[twistnet]

suum ca'nara [ boba fett ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; a sweet moment is shared between you and boba

⋯ PROMPT ; caress — for your muse to gently run their hand down my muse’s face

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, mentions of healing + general fluff [ soft!boba + some sweet kissing ]

boba had settled into the sheets, humming to himself at the comfort it had provided after spending months submerged in a bacta tank. a small plus to the arrangement, was now he was able to hold you in his arms once more. something he had come to miss over the time of his healing.

you had never one complained about the separation, always stating that he needed to heal and if that was want he needed to do so, you would get use to not having him by your side. yet, you always showed him the same amount of love as if he was getting into bed beside you.

and now, he was able to fully experience the affection you so lovingly gave once more as you curled beside him, a bright smile beaming right up at him, “what’s going on in that head of yours, cyare?” he questions deeply, sharing in the smile as he turns to his side to fully face you.

“it’s just... nice to have you back next to me. the bed’s finally warm.” your comment has him chuckling deeply as an arm is thrown around you, pulling you in towards his chest as lips press small, quick kisses across your face. you laugh, turning your face away to avoid his series of kisses as hands tickle your sides to pull more laughs from you.

“riddur, gedet'ye!” you spout in his native tongue, enjoying the surprised, yet soft smile that adorns his lips as his fingers stop their attack, “someone’s been keeping up on their studies.” you nod, catching your breath, “the databases in the palace are surprisingly extensive. never took jabba for a scholar.”

boba snorts at the jab, turning onto his back as he sighs through his nose, “jabba most likely kept them simply for being able to say he did. no one coming in here was ever here for books.” you nod, remembering the few times you had been inside the palace back when it had been under the control of jabba. many were there simply for entertainment and prospects provided by the hutt. though few, like yourself, were there solely for bounty postings and turn ins.

you yawn, the tiredness from the day sweeping over you as you delve deeper under the blankets, snuggling further into the pillow. boba does the same, sparing a glance to look you over as your eyes begin to close. he smiles to himself before reaching out to run his fingers along your cheek, trailing them down toward your jaw and then back up. he sees you smile, heading turning to press a kiss to the rough pads of his fingers, “ni kar'tayl gar darasuum’ he whispers gently into the night, as the lights flick off and he settles into bed for some much needed sleep.

translations [ mando’a ]

suum ca’nara [ Soom CAH-na-RAH ] -- a state of blissful rest and peace

cyare [ SHAH-ray ] -- beloved

riddur [ REE-door ] -- spouse, partner, husband/wife

gedet'ye [ Geh-DET-yay ] -- please

ni kar'tayl gar darasuum -- i will know you forever/ i love you

blog navigation ⇢ [ star wars masterlist ]

[wanderinginksplot]

One-Shot: Sev + Motto

Sev x gn!reader fic, features the rest of Delta Squad as supporting characters.

Word Count: 1400 or so

Warnings: reader receives minor injuries (burns) on a mission

---

"Play di’kutla games, win di’kutla prizes."

If you had heard Sev say it once, you had heard him say it a thousand times.

Working with Delta Squad was normally fine. Honestly, it was outright entertaining on a regular basis. As an expert in untraceable comms, you were often partnered with commando squads. Infiltrating enemy planets was a norm in your job, and you made sure the squads could communicate with each other and nearby GAR ships regardless of which side controlled the planetside communications systems.

Delta was one of your favorite groups. Fixer was direct and to-the-point, efficient beyond all else. Scorch was side-splittingly funny, even in the middle of an intense battle. Sev was funny as well, though his humor was darker and full of wickedly clever observations. Boss was a natural leader, and he never felt the need to throw his authority around to make a point. More importantly, Delta Squad accepted you as one of their own, and your work with them was seamless in a way it wasn’t among other commando squads.

Of course, that also meant that you were subject to the same treatment as any other member of Delta Squad.

“Watch your fingers!” Fixer warned. “Heat gloves are standard issue for a reason.”

“Does it look like I have time to put on gloves?” you demanded. “Focus on covering me, and I’ll get this done.”

Two minutes, forty-seven seconds later, you had finished setting up the tower and taken a major step toward establishing communications on the Separatist-controlled planet. You would never admit it to Fixer, but you had thoroughly burnt several of your fingers on the superheated durasteel of the communication diverter’s inner core.

Crawling back through the brush to avoid enemy detection was awful. It may not have been so bad, but the burns were scattered across both of your hands and they were already beginning to blister.

You made it back in good time, despite the injuries you were trying to hide. Boss and Scorch had been the other team, going to plant detonators in the appropriate spots. Despite the comparative complexity of your task, you and Fixer were the first ones back. Sev was there to greet you, scowling at the pair of you.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Excuse me, are we not the first team to finish?” you asked, satisfaction clear in your voice.

“Yeah, but if you had been faster, we would have an update on Boss and Scorch by now,” Sev countered. “You know how Scorch gets around too many thermal dets. He may have blown himself up by now and we missed it.”

“Considering how many detonators he had, I’m sure we would have seen the explosion from here,” Fixer told him.

You laughed at the solid point - half because Fixer was funny when he wanted to be and half to release the anxiety and adrenaline of a successfully completed stealth mission.

Fixer leveled an unimpressed look at you. “Besides, some of us could spend this time treating the injuries we’re trying to hide.”

“You got hurt?” Sev asked, frowning at you. From any other squad, it might have sounded like concern, but you immediately spotted it for what it was: a vague irritated belief that you would slow them down.

"Barely," you snorted. "Minor burns, nothing to worry about."

"Until the blisters pop and leave you open to infection," Fixed countered, already taking over the observation post Sev had been manning. "Oh-Seven, take care of it, please? I'm not up to playing medic right now."

"Oh, so I have to?" Sev griped.

You stood up, throwing a look of disgust at the pair. "I think I'll patch myself up, thanks."

You had barely cracked open Delta Squad's first aid kit when heavy footsteps warned that someone had followed you. You ignored Sev's red-streaked armor as he stepped up behind you, focusing instead on spreading bacta gel across the tender burns on your hands.

"Here, just- Would you let me do that?" Sev asked impatiently, taking the gel from your hands.

"I could do it myself," you told him, a little pointlessly, since he had already taken over.

"I know you could, but it'll be faster if you let me."

Sev had removed his helmet, and he had the stubborn set to his jaw that warned that he wasn't going to let this go. Rather than waste both of your time, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your hands. He knelt in front of you, the kit open beside him, and started to apply the bacta gel.

He worked in silence for a few minutes, callused fingers oddly gentle against your skin, until you couldn't take it anymore. "Go ahead, say it."

"Say what?" Sev asked, looking up at you with a frown on his scarred face.

"What you always say," you explained with a frown of your own. "Come on, it's basically your motto."

"I don't have a motto," Sev told you slowly. "I'm not some idiot with a motto. I'm not Scorch."

"Okay, but you can't think of a single phrase you repeat often?" You pressed. "Especially when someone gets hurt doing something you think is stupid?"

"Not really," Sev denied, clearly puzzling it over.

You watched him, aghast at the idea that you had been making up his insulting phrase. As he turned his attention back to your burns, you caught a glimmer in his eye and you nudged him with your foot.

"That's not funny, Sev!" you tried your best to sound furious, but the way you were laughing detracted from the effect. Sev chuckled along with you. "I thought I was going insane!"

"I wouldn't say it to you," Sev said, finishing the last bandage.

You stared at him. "Yeah, of course not. It isn't like you've said it to me multiple times in past missions."

"Well, those, you actually had done something stupid and you got what you deserved," he told you mercilessly. "But this time, you got hurt trying to complete a mission."

"Yeah, but I wasn't wearing the proper gear," you countered.

Sev didn't look impressed, picking up one of your carefully bandaged hands as he spoke. "I know burns, and heat gloves wouldn't have saved you here. Maybe the burns would have been less intense, but we would also be picking melted synthweave out of your hands."

You squeezed Sev's hand since it was still wrapped around your own. "Thanks for making me feel better, Sev, and for taking care of my hands."

"Well, I have to make sure my favorite comm specialist is willing to work with us again," Sev told you, helping you to your feet.

You had never taken a step away, and from your position standing close to Sev, you stared up with a dumb grin spreading across your face. "I'm your favorite comm specialist?"

"You're my favorite anything specialist," he told you and you beamed at him. To your complete shock, he returned your smile, his handsome face glowing with the quiet happiness of the moment.

You began to speak, though you had no idea what you planned to say. Unfortunately - or fortunately - you were interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Boss and Scorch. Delta Squad's leader was supporting Scorch, who limped along making exaggerated noises of pain.

"Scorch, what happened? Are you okay?" you asked, horrified that he had been hurt.

"I didn't bring enough fuse," Scorch answered, immediately dropping his pained attitude - though his limp didn't change a bit. "Had to run from the site and I twisted my ankle."

"Well, play di'kutla games, win di'kutla prizes," Sev told him sourly as you shot him a disbelieving grin.

"Yeah, yeah," Scorch muttered. "This team doesn't appreciate my talents."

"Talents," Fixed scoffed.

"Of course!" Scorch replied, sounding offended. "It takes talent to get hurt this often and not die."

"The Kaminoans may have bred us for tenacity, but I don't think that's what they had in mind," Boss told him. "There's something to be said for learning from your mistakes."

"Isn't anyone on my side?" Scorch complained, eyeing you pointedly.

You sighed, but threw him some sympathy anyway. "I'm on your side, Scorch. I'm glad you're okay."

Fixer cut short Scorch's gloating. "That's only because you weren't the only one who was injured doing something stupid today."

Scorch gave you a commiserating nod. "Did Sev give you the speech, too?"

You glanced up at Sev. The scarred commando was watching you as he tried to bite back a smile. You shot him a subtle wink and said, "Yeah, something like that."

---

A/N - dedicated to myself, because I say "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes" way too often for someone who is usually the one playing the stupid game. Feel free to visit my masterlist for other one-shots and series, or make a request!

[pupyzu]

Heyo!-

If it’s no problem could I get some fox/forest/garden/music themed pronouns?-

-💞

i have forest themed pronouns here! the rest are under the cut!

FOX:

fe/fen/fennec/fennecself

fo/fox/foxs/foxself

fox/foxes/foxeself

fox/foxs/foxself

fur/furs/furself

ki/kit/kits/kitself

la/lago/lagop/lagopusself

paw/paws/pawself

pou/poun/pounce/pounceself

ru/russ/russet/rusself

vul/vulp/vulps/vulpself

vulpe/vulpes/vulpeself

vulpi/vulpis/vulpiself

ze/zer/zerda/zerdaself

🦊/🦊s/🦊self

･┈┈･･⟡ ∞ ⟡･･┈┈･

GARDEN:

ama/amara/amaran/amaranth/amaranself

beet/beets/beetself

bloom/blooms/bloomself

bo/bel/oss/bloss/blossomself or blosself

bud/buds/budself

ca/car/carna/carnati/carnationself

clo/clover/clov/clovs/cloverself

dai/daisy/dais/dais/daisyself

fern/fern/ferns/ferns/fernself

fern/ferns/fernself

fleur/fleurs/fleurself

flo/flor/flori/florid/floridself

flor/flora/floraself

flow/flower/flowers/flowerself

ga/gar/gard/garden/gardenself

gir/gra/grass/grass/grasself

ha/hib/bis/cus/hibiscuself

hy/cin/hyas/hyacin/hyacinthself or hyaself

hy/hys/hyself

ir/ir/iris/iri/iriself

iv/ivy/iv/ivs/ivself/ivyself

ja/min/jas/jasmi/jasmineself

lav/lav/lavs/lavs/lavself

lav/laven/lavend/lavends/lavendself

leaf/leafs/leafself

lil/lily/lils/lilies/lilself/lilyself

lo/lot/lotu/lotus/lotuself

min/mint/mints/mints/mintself

mos/moss/mossir/mossirs/mosself

pe/peony/peo/peon/peonyself

pe/per/peri/peri/periself or periwinkle

petal/petals/petalself

po/pop/py/oppy/poppyself

reed/reed/reeds/reeds/reedself

rie/orch/id/chid/orchidself, orchiself, or orchself

ro/ros/rose/roses/roseself

rose/roses/roseself

shrub/shrub/shrubs/shrubs/shrubself

sprout/sprouts/sproutself

stem/stems/stemself

tho/thorn/thorns/thorns/thornself

ti/tul/ul/uli/tulipself

tul/tulip/tulips/tulips/tulipself

vi/viol/viols/viols/violself

vin/vin/vins/vins/vinself

vine/vine/vines/vines/vineself

violet/violets/violetself

wi/weed/wis/weeds/weedself

wi/win/winkle/winkle/winkleself or periwinkle

wi/wist/wis/wister/wisteriaself, wistself, or wisterself

zi/zin/zin/zinni/zinniaself

🌱/🌱s/🌱self

🌷/🌷s/🌷self

🌸/🌸s/🌸self

🌹/🌹s/🌹self

🌺/🌺s/🌺self

🌻/🌻s/🌻self

🌼/🌼s/🌼self

🌿/🌿s/🌿self

🥀/🥀s/🥀self

🪴/🪴s/🪴self

･┈┈･･⟡ ∞ ⟡･･┈┈･

MUSIC:

al/alt/ato/alto/altoself

ar/aria/rias/rias/ariaself

ba/bass/bass/basses/basself

ball/ballad/lads/lads/balladself

bari/tone/bar/baris/bariself or baritoneself

bea/beat/beats/beatself/beatself

blues/blues/blueself

ca/car/caro/carol/carolself

ca/dence/dence/dences/cadenceself

ca/denza/denz/denz/denzaself or cadenzaself

ca/non/nons/nons/canonself

canta/bile/biles/biles/cantaself or cantabileself

canta/ta/tas/tas/cantaself or cantataself

canti/cle/cles/cles/cantiself or canticleself

cava/tina/cavas/cavas/cavaself or cavatinaself

cha/chant/chants/chants/chantself

chime/chimes/chimeself

cho/choir/chi/choi/choirself

chor/rale/chor/chors/choraleself

chord/chords/chordself

cle/clef/clefs/clefs/clefself

clef/clefs/clefself

co/coda/cos/cos/coself or codaself

con/certo/cers/cers/certoself or concertoself

conti/nuo/nuos/nuos/contiself or continuoself

contra/alto/altos/altos/contraself or contraltoself

cour/ante/cour/cours/ranteself or couranteself

di/dirge/dir/dirs/dirgeself

do/dos/doself

du/duet/de/det/duetself

du/oud/do/duo/duoself

dy/score/dynself

e/tude/tudes/tudes/etudeself

ele/gy/gys/gys/eleself, gyself, or elegyself

en/core/cores/cores/coreself or encoreself

fa/fahs/fahsself

fu/gue/gues/gues/fugueself

ga/votte/vottes/vottes/gavotteself

hu/hum/hums/hums/humself

hum/hums/humself

hy/hymn/hymns/hymns/hymnself

im/prov/provs/provs/provself or improvself

jam/jam/jams/jams/jamself

ke/key/kes/keys/keyself

la/lahs/lahsself

lulla/by/lulls/lulls/lullself, lullaself, lullabyself

lulla/bye/lulls/lulls/lullself, lullaself, or lullabyeself

ly/lyr/lyri/lyric/lyricself or lyriself

lyr/lyra/lyras/lyrself

lyra/lyr/lyrs/lyraself

mar/march/mars/mars/marchself

mea/meane/meas/meas/meaneself

med/ley/leys/leys/leyself or medleyself

melo/dy/dys/dys/meloself, dyself, or melodyself

metro/nome/nomes/nomes/metronomeself

mezz/mezzo/mezz/mezzes/mezzoself

mi/mir/mirself

min/nuet/mins/mins/minuetself

mu(s)/music/musics/musics/musicself

mu(s)/sic/sics/sics/musicself

mus/sic/mus/muses/musicself

muse/ette/ettes/ettes/etteself or musetteself

noc/turne/nocs/nocs/turneself, nocself, or nocturneself

note/note/noteself

o/pus/os/os/opuself or opusself

o/pera/per/peras/operaself

ode/ode/odes/odes/odeself

oprett/pretta/pretts/pretts/oprettaself

ora/torio/tor/tors/torio or oratorioself

oue/vre/vres/vres/vreself or ouevreself

over/ture/ture/tures/overtureself

pae/an/ans/ans/paeanself

par/ody/par/pars/parself or parodyself

per/form/per/pers/performself

pit/pitch/pits/pitc/pitchself

pla/play/plays/plays/playself

qua/quar/quet/quartet/quarself

qui/quin/quint/quintet/quin(t)self

re/prise/prise/prises/repriseself

re/quiem/ems/ems/requiemself

rei/reis/reiself

rhy/rhythm/rhyth/rhyth/rhythmself

rigau/don/dons/dons/donself, rigauself, or rigaudonself

ro/coco/rocs/rocs/rocself or rococoself

ron/do/rons/rons/rondoself

rou/round/rous/rous/roundself

scher/zo/scher/(schers/scherz)/scherzself or scherzoself

sere/nade/ser/sers/sereself or serenadeself

sing/sing/sings/sings/singself

so/nata/nas/nas/sonaself or sonataself

so/sohs/sohsself

so/sol/solo/solo/soloself or self

so/sop/sopra/sopran/sopranoself

sona/tina/sonas/sonas/sonaself or sonatinaself

song/songs/songself

sui/suite/suites/suites/suiteself

sym/symph/phons/phons/symphself, phonself, or symphonyself

te/ten/tenor/tenors/tenorself

te/ten/teo/teno/tenorself

temp/tempo/temps/temps/tempoself

theme/theme/themes/themes/themeself

ti/tir/tri/trio/trioself

ti/tis/tisself

timb/bre/bres/bres/timbreself

tre/treble/tres/tres/trebleself

trill/trills/trillself

tu/tti/tus/tus/tuself or tuttiself

tu/tune/tunes/tunes/tuneself

voi/voice/voice/voices/voiself or voiceself

wal/waltz/altz/altz/waltzself

+ i have classical music pronouns here!

[countessofbiscuit]

@ct-1994 adopted a list of one-liners for a SW prompt game (loved the idea), and then this happened in the Arabian Sea. This is the result. 

Happy Hour | Ao3

Teen, 1000 words, Commander Fox & Admiral Salima, Background Foxiyo

“No shit, there I was, a TIT getting soggy and tit-faced off this crazy stacked falleen, procured and paid for by the Provost Marshal Commander of the goddamn Republic.”

— CT-4000 Weber, in a story posted on GAR tacChat, since deleted by the mods. . . . “Commander, if you could spare a moment,” said Admiral Salima, when the Coruscant command meeting adjourned, “there’s something I’d like to show you.”

Obliged to oblige, Fox followed her. Wardroom caf and confab on the Adherent had never been worth sticking around for; and he understood his presence only threw a chill over both.

Salima’s reserve was more familiar. She simply enquired after Thorn (the only brother with a changing view); congratulated Fox on Operation Luster and his promotion (a glorified flimsi shuffle, really); and nearly made a snide remark about his new boss, Admiral Tarkin (the glorified flimsiweight, fashioned from ossified wax) — all in short order. Her conversation remained hard-shouldered throughout; Fox had learned how to corner it comfortably.

She’d been something of a mentor to him, back when Fox and the rest of the Corrie-bound Guard had been little better than cargo from Kamino. He’d been fool enough to hope for mutual attraction; now, he recognized benign curiosity and was grateful Salima had only corrected him in private, with a stern reminder to maintain the straight-and-narrow among his men. She’d had the power to do much worse.

Through the labyrinth they walked. Down the turbolift and straight on till Zhellday, so it felt.

Like Fox, the shine had worn off this ship. The factory smell had long since lost the war of molecular attrition to concentrated crew life, too. The cologne alone exhausted the finest air scrubbers. Home Defense was the gentle proving ground for Core kids who liked home-cooking and Corrie nightlife; the only fleet with a birther majority.

“No doubt it’s just gone on viral on your network, but since you’re here ... ” Salima stiffly prefaced as they entered hangar command. The skeleton crew inside excused themselves, and the Admiral assumed a station at the window. Fox joined her and looked down.

The normally clear flight deck bristled with hardware. Anti-armor weapons, sniper rifles, sonic blasters, carbines galore, power packs, and enough dets to make an EOD tech nervous.

Fox blinked. His helmet would have glitched trying to identify it all. Quite a cache. Quite a coup.

“The shuttle?” Fox said, when comprehension clicked. An unregistered, offbrand Nu-class had been seized yesterday — when it’d been easier to blink away a ‘shabla fucking fuckton’ of Sep and stolen weapons.

“Yes. The pilot was so confident in her scrambled transponder, she didn’t reckon on a visual,” Salima said. “The interdiction team had a hot welcome. Left no one standing.”

Fox hummed his approval. But if Salima had brought him here expecting tears of joy, she’d be kept waiting. He’d only ever wept for Riyo Chuchi — and she approved of weapons about as much as she appreciated hopelessly dead criminals.

If anyone deserved a cry, it was the working party who’d been tasked with dressing the deck down to the inch, tagging everything, and squinting for scrubbed serial numbers. The layout was so religiously uniform, it could only be clone work. And only on Kamino, only to the audio instruction of Jango Fett, had Fox had ever seen grenades arranged rings-inward, two-by-five, to make them easier to count.

“Commander Kathcar’s bright idea,” said Salima, her expression hard. “Claims it was for my birthday. Nerfshit.” She spat the word. “Forget the Seps: ever since I’ve had the misfortune to command him, he’s been locked in an epic battle with CorSec���s OCU for the most testosterone in one holopic.”

Fox glanced at her, completely at sea. He’d only ever fielded complaints up his kama. Collected them like sourgums, and chewed them into a more palatable mass for higher. But a superior griping to him? And birther-on-birther bitching, too? Goddamn unnatural.

“Truly, it’s a mercy he’s on our side,” Fox offered, exerting himself to meet her tone.

“We sing a song of thanksgiving.” And if he wasn’t mistaken, that was Salima sarcasm. “His efforts have been amply recognized,” she went on. “Kathcar’s entire staff has been assigned to the second inventory, the pack-up, and multiple walkdowns.”

Still unsure why he’d been brought to bear witness, Fox mirrored her satisfied stance. Wasn’t hard. Justice had been served, and that was a satisfaction that swelled readily within Commander Fox.

“Don’t suppose you men recognize birthdays,” Salima mused, severely pivoting the conversation. Her hands fidgeted behind her back. “Do you even know when you took your first breath, Commander?”

“I’m sure it’s in the metadata somewhere, sir,” Fox replied, tapping his temple, because birthers assumed they were chipped in the head.

Salima laughed. A real chestful of mirth. And Fox suddenly remembered what he’d seen in her.

“Well, if the troopers responsible for this sexy jigsaw here have ever celebrated a birthday, it must’ve been a muted affair. My staff tell me they’ve never left the ship.” She seemed to buckle under this admission; braced herself on the console with the visible weight of decision-making. Fox tensed. “Two years in space. Mother of Farrik.”

Two years in space, four years in clone, all time that had never belonged to them anyway. Fox shifted his helmet, to worry his left thumb raw instead.

“If you can fit them on your transport — the traffic troops and two more squads, I’d be grateful,” she said, straightening herself and her jacket. “I figure, if anyone can show some young men a good, mostly law-abiding time in Galactic City, it’s your staff.”

Fox was somewhat gobsmacked. But he’d suffer a vac-head shiny upon his lap, if it meant they finally enjoyed some shore leave. “I might know a solid establishment or three.”

Salima actually shook his hand, transferring a high-denomination credit chip from some unseen pocket. “Forty-eight hours. Let them have a birthday party. For me. Don’t make anyone regret it and you can keep the change.” Her mouth scrunched against a smile.

“Yes, sir,” Fox replied, equally guileful and all appreciation.

An all-expenses-paid night on the town was a rare thing. But watching whitejobs practically shit slugs at a mandatory invitation from the strong arm of the law? Always priceless.

. . . . . 

(Ao3)

[apotktonline]

Tips för att hitta ett pålitligt apotek online

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Som ett apotek for on-line-leverans och vi satsar pa att erbjuda hogsta kvalitet och basta service.

For ar APOTEKONLINE for hundratusentals kunder forsta kontaktpunkt for Potensmedel Web.

For fragor, forfragningar och bestallningar, vanligen kontakta var kundservice till ditt forfogande.

Vart apotek kommer att rada dig i detalj och diskret om produkterna i var online-apotek.

Fordelarna for inkop av generiska lakemedel pa on-line apotek.

Manga manniskor ar skeptiska until att kopa sina lakemedel pa natet, men de tenderar att de numberous formaner de ser until att finnas tillgangliga.

On-line apotek kan vara sakert, bekvamt och ekonomiskt.

Till exempel att apotek24.internet och andra palitliga hemsidor ar godkanda av WHO och den indiska regeringen som sina piller med hog kvalitet tillverkade lakemedel normer och atgarder for att sina kunder om vad som helst och allt du behover veta om nagon specifik drog kanske vet att informeras.

Nar du koper lakemedel fran en generisk apotek pa natet ar det mycket lattare att jamfora priser.

I dagens ekonomi, nastan alla i ett hushall.

Om en lakare ordinerar ett lakemedel, kan du valja att acceptera, heller som lades fram for dig eller ringa dig hela stan, i hopp om att hitta ett lagre pris. Den basta onlineapotek kommer ocksa att visa sina konkurrenters priser pa sin egen webbplats. En del av orsaken until detta reducerat pris, ar att minska mitt manniskan av kostnaden.

Apotek tekniker utan lon eller overhead kostnader, priset pa de Potensmedel mycket billigare pa natet.

En annan fordel med valet ar att kopa generiska lakemedel pa natet som du inte kommer att lamna bekvamligheten av ditt eget hem.

Ibland ar det mojligt att fa generiska lakemedel utan recept.

For dem som vill kringga de svarigheter, inte att besoka en lakare for en mindre situation och att inte fa med sina recept pa apoteket kan gora livet mycket enklare.

I ett annat state of affairs kan du behova ett forsvagat immunforsvar eller helt enkelt kanner sig alltfor svag for att gora resan. Genom att valja en generisk onlineapotek kan du bade spara pengar pa lakemedlet och undvika risken att kompromissa ditt tillstand annu mer. Manga on-line apotek erbjuder generiska lakemedel utan recept. Detta betyder inte att du tillater illegala inkop av lakemedel som ar tillgangliga endast genom en lakare riktning. Vad detta betyder ar att lakemedel, som ofta kan kopas bakom disken, liksom vitaminer, mineraler, kosttillskott och andra som ofta tar apotek.

Om du inte far ut ur huset med dina recept, ska du fasen inte ut och fa lite flera vitamin eller jarn piller.

Det ar alldeles for manga missuppfattningar om onlineapotek som har hindrat redan ersatt fysikalisk kemist. Eftersom manniskor ar sa vana vid rutin apoteket, verkar det nastan onaturligt, nagot sa personligt och viktigt kop on-line. Males i var tid av Internet, ar allt mojligt. Med ratt vagledning, ar det sakert, bekvamt och ekonomiskt klokt.

Var noga med att halla utkik efter en godkand onlineapotek som utlovar hog kvalitet lakemedel.

Vad ar Viagra?

Lakemedlet kop Viagra ar den mest kanda makt betyder alls. Det finns knappast nagon som inte vet vad de ar dar. Males mer ofta hors i detta sammanhang termen generisk Viagra och att detta i ett allmant apotek erbjuds. Ofta ar det en avgorande jamforelse gors med den ursprungliga - det faktum billig Viagra. Men vad ar det med alla dessa uttalanden?

Nar generisk Viagra ar en sammansattning som innehaller samma ingrediens som originalet Viagra. Sammansattning och verkningssatt av drogen ar helt identiska med originalet.

For en generisk produkt ar foljande: Om en tillverkare utvecklar ett visst lakemedel, ar det oftast sa att endast han kan salja det for en viss tid. Darfor har denna tillverkare rattigheterna till de resurser och allt som gar med det. Efter en viss tid, ar det dock mojligt att andra tillverkare utveckla en sadan drog ocksa. Denna falska kallas ett generiskt lakemedel. Som redan namnts, till ingredienser, kompositioner, och verkningssatt vara helt identiska, oavsett vilken drog ar bra. Det kan dock handa att de piller ser annorlunda ut.

Vad ar en generisk apotek? Vilka fordelar har fa det?

Internet har blivit valdigt manga on-line-apotek erbjuds som ar genomgaende valbesokta. Det finns alltsa en eller tva generiska apotek. Detta ar ett apotek som har specialiserat sig enbart generika, until exempel, erbjuder Viagra. Inte eller mycket sallan saljs males har ar originalen.

Sadana apotek erbjuder kunden en mangd olika formaner. For det forsta ar det sa att lakemedel ofta kan kopas utan recept, och kopa en massa anonym utrusta gar, som det var fallet i ett lokalt apotek. Den storsta fordelen ar dock att generika erbjuds betydligt billigare an originalet droger. Detta Viagra kan kopas billigt, aven om detta ar ett generiskt lakemedel.

De flesta kunder av generiska apotek ar glada eftersom tabletterna ar ganska bra och det finns ingen skillnad fran originalen. Foljaktligen kommer manga kunder dra nytta av attraktiva erbjudanden och vill utnyttja mojligheten att kopa in sadana apotek. Varfor Viagra kan erbjudas billigt Ett generiskt lakemedel ar oftast utformad for att erbjuda kunderna ett billigare alternativ until den ursprungliga. Detta kan ocksa saljas billig Viagra. Naturligtvis i type av en motsvarande generiska produkter. Produktionen av generiska lakemedel tas over av en annan leverantor.

I den ursprungliga droger, apoteket sverige sa aven med Viagra, betalade kunden ofta inte bara drogen utan ocksa dess namn. Tillverkare som utvecklar generiska lakemedel utan ofta stora kostnader for faktorer sasom reklam eller liknande, och kan darmed haft kostnader for kunden sa lag som mojligt.

Eftersom inkop, until exempel pa grund Viagra generisk, generiska apotek on-line i ett mycket vardefullt, aven har, ar priserna ofta sanks igen, sa att kunden kan dra nytta. Kamagra

For more information visit here: http://apoteket-online.com/

[arctic-the-archaic]

I, after searching for an inexplicably long time, have not been able to learn how to insert a ‘keep reading’ link. I apologize profusely, as I am on mobile. @loving-fox-hours

Day 4: Undercover Mission/ Scars

Commander Fox was in his element.

He was in a social setting. He was armed. He had a mission. He had objectives.

Fox wasn’t a super social man, but when men who had been assigned to the Guard were brought to Coruscant, they were given classes in social etiquette and the like to help them better deal with the Coruscanti Elite.

His eyes casually swung around the interior of the cantina he was in, looking for something specific. Come on, come on. You’re late.

His eyes swept over a Twi’Lek sitting alone in a booth, Gotcha.

He stood up casually, holding his glass in one hand and walking over to the booth. “This seat taken?”

That was the code-phrase agreed upon. It wasn’t exactly original, or foolproof, but with the aura of danger the lone Twi’Lek radiated, not even an inebriated Trandoshan would be dumb enough to sit with her.

The blue skinned Twi’Lek looked over her shoulder, smirking predatorily at Fox. “Yeah. By you.”

With that, Fox sat down opposite her and kicked his feet up on the table in his best imitation of a cocky Bounty Hunter. Glancing over to his left as he sipped his drink, which just so happened to be Andoan White (He blamed Thire for his sudden like of the drink), he saw an inactive holo-projector above the bar and looked at his reflection. His raven black hair that was originally styled in a crew-cut was now down to a bit under his ears, it was extremely similar if not outright identical to Boba Fett’s, if Fox remembered from the one time he’d met the little menace. His carefully trimmed beard was now a scruffy goatee, and his mustache was slightly less uniform. He had a scar going across his face from about an inch above his right eye, going diagonally downwards through his right eyebrow, over the bridge of his nose, and stopping a bit above his jawbone. He had another scar going from the bottom of the right side of his jawbone, up to about an inch under his eye. These weren’t fake, these he just had.

He was wearing a worn brown leather jacket with random patches and scrapes. Under the jacket was a blank grey long sleeve shirt that hid several more scars. On his left hand was another scar, going from the left side of his wrist up to his index finger. His lower half was covered by black cargo trousers, with a holster carrying a ‘stolen’ DC-17 attached to his utility belt. His brown combat boots were well worn and scuffed as they rested on the table. He set his drink down and looked at the Twi’Lek. “Jax Detson?”

Fox nodded. “Ryla Letook.” He spoke her name in a statement, not a question. The hell kinda name is Jax Detson anyway? Whichever sheb-head at Republic Intelligence came up with this, I’m gonna have a word with them.

The Twi’Lek smiled. “My my, you are a handsome one. I might give you a discount…”

Ugh, I don’t understand how Thire can deal with this osik. But I have to fekking play along.

Fox smirked. “You aren’t so bad yourself, now, do move a favor and show me the merchandise, yea?” Maker, I feel like I need to vomit after saying even just that. How can people be so crude?

The Twi’Lek grinned and stood up. “Right this way,” And then walked away and out the back door of the cantina, Fox following a few steps behind.

Outside in the dark alley, the woman stopped in front of a pair of speeders that had several crates on them. Fox stopped next to her, and then raised his hands to fix his coat collar….

That’s a lot of spice. How the hell did they get it past Customs?

…..and gently brushed the activation button on a recording device attached to the underside of his collar. “Kark that’s a lotta spice. How the hell did you get it past Customs?”

The Twi’Lek grinned. “Trade secret. Though, I could be… persuaded to tell you.” The look she shot him was utterly lecherous.

Oh for kriff’s sake. I can not believe I’m about to do this. But, we have to know how they got it in.

Fox put on his best suave smile, even though it utterly pained him to do so. “Well, I’ve been told I can be pretty persuasive.” Maker, this is not fun.

The Twi’Lek laid a hand on his chest, pushing back against the alley wall, smirking up at him. The other hand went up to his face-spanning scar and ran along it. “Mm… what caused this?”

Against the wall. Vulnerable position. Lets fix this.

Fox quickly flipped the Twi’Lek against the wall, making her giggle. “Caught a vibro-blade to the face.” And that was actually true.

(It was supposed to be a simple bust. In, clear out the spice dealers, take in the spice, out. But nope. They had gotten pinned in a firefight, and then a CQB engagement when the gangsters had run out of ammo and charged them. Fox’s helmet had gotten knocked off in the chaos when a crazed Nautolan came at him with a ridiculously large blade, cutting from above his right eyebrow to below his left eye. Fox killed him not a second later, and continued to fight even with his vision obscured by his own blood. That was how he earned the nasty scar. Of course, Thorn and Thire liked to say he got it in a speeder crash. He would’ve reprimanded them, but it was actually endearing.)

Gah, this is not fun in the slightest.

“Oh, sounds painful. Not as much pain as I can cause though.” Ryla replied, grinning.

“Oh yeah? You should see the vibro-blade.” Fox shot back.

Ryla smirked, leaning up to mutter in his ear. “Makes you look quite… rakish.” Her hand drifted to the one on his cheek. “What about this one?”

“Det shrapnel.” Will you shut up and tell me what I want to know?

(It was about midday at a press conference for GAR PR. Fox had his helmet off to try and give off a friendlier appearance. And then a man had run in, shouting about freedom from the Republic, and throwing a detonator at the stage before running. Fox tackled one of the dignitaries away from it, but didn’t protect himself. When it detonated, a piece of shrapnel flew at them, and it sliced Fox across his cheek. No jokes were spawned about this one, but Fox was proud of it.)

“Oh.. you must get into danger pretty often. I like that. And you earned your answer, and it’s because we have an agent who lets us get it through. Now, lets have some fun.” Ryla reached for his jacket, and was suddenly unconscious as a stun bolt from his discreetly drawn DC-17. He let the woman drop and looked at the crates of spice, Finally. That was just…. annoying.

He walked towards them, only for three voices to sound from behind him.

“Hey!”

“Who are you?”

“What did you do to Ryla?”

Fox groaned and turned around, coming face to face with a female Theelin, and two male humans.

“He attacked her! Kill him!”

Fox sighed as the gangsters all drew their blasters, rolling into cover and drawing his own blaster as they started peppering the crate he was hiding behind with fire. Well this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into Fox. After degrading yourself no less. Fan-fekking-tastic day.

There was a lull in the blaster fire and Fox took his chance, rolling out of cover and blasting away at the gangsters. One of the humans took a bolt to the face, collapsing immediately to the ground. The other human got off two blasts, one skimming Fox’s shoulder and burning through his jacket and shirt, and then burning his skin. The second one went straight through his arm, making him grunt in pain. He let loose another three blaster bolts, all hitting the human in his chest, making him collapse to the ground. Sloppy. You fekked up Foxy-boy. You actually got hit.

The Theelin screamed and shot at him, but he rolled again, stopping at a kneel and pulling his vibro-knife from his belt and throwing it, quickly and precisely, making it land square in between the Theelin’s eyes. As the woman fell, Fox stood and grunted, retrieving his knife and holstering his blaster. That took you too long. He berated himself.

He walked over to the one living assailant and slapped a pair of binders on her. Then looked towards the alley entrance as a trio of speeders and a Police gunship came up.

“Thire!” Fox snapped at the trooper as he walked up.

“Yessir?” The blond commander replied.

“Don’t ever suggest me for an undercover assignment again.”

“Yessir.”

[boldlyloudkoala-blog1]

14 matvarer for a fa muskelmasse raskt

Du er lei av a hore at du ma spise mer for a vokse. Men du vokser ikke.

Og du lurer pa om problemet er at du ikke spiser nok, eller om det du spiser ikke er ideelt.

Sa du trenger a vite det mat for a fa muskelmasse raskt at kroppsbyggere forbruker og sammenligner dem med de du normalt spiser.

A fa muskelmasse er en langsom prosess som foregar mesteparten av tiden umerkelig.

Sa det er veldig sannsynlig at jo flere ganger du ser i speilet, ikke vil du sette pris pa forskjeller.

Vil du ha rad? Slutt a besette resultatene og begynn a gjore det: tren hardt og spis riktig.

Det er sistnevnte der nesten alle feiler.

Det er relativt enkelt a legge all innsatsen i treningsstudioet pa 90 minutter.

Men det er ikke sa mye a opprettholde disiplin i maltidene dine resten av dagen.

Og realiteten er at det er kostholdet ditt som vil markere fremgangen din.

Du kan gjore ditt beste med strykejern, som hvis kroppen din ikke far i seg n?ringsstoffene den trenger, den ikke vil kunne bygge muskelmasse.

Sa i dag vil jeg snakke om mat. Disse matvarene som vil hjelpe dine ofre til a bli belonnet.

Disse 14 matvarene bor utgjore grunnlaget for kostholdet ditt hvis ditt virkelige onske er a utvikle musklene dine.

A konsumere dem i riktige belop vil apne for fremgang.

Sa legg merke til, for vi skal til supermarkedet.

Mat som du ikke kan slutte a konsumere hvis du vil bygge muskler

1-kald kalkun

Kald kalkunbryst kan ikke mangle fra treningsstudio diett. Og det er ikke bare av en ern?ringsmessig grunn, som ogsa, men av en praktisk grunn.

 Kald kalkunbryst er en mat med lite protein og lite fett at du heller ikke trenger a lage mat.

Dette betyr at du kan ta den hvor som helst og spise den nar som helst uten behov for forberedelse.

  2-Chicken

Kylling er kjott av ypperste kraft for kroppsbyggeren. Et hvitt kjott med et lavt fettniva som ogsa er praktisk rent i brystomradet.

A spise kyllingbryst pa daglig basis kan bli litt kjedelig, sa ikke bli besatt av brystklisjeen, men gi det selvfolgelig viktigheten det fortjener.

100 gram kyllingbryst gir deg 30 gram rent protein, sa hvis du er fast bestemt pa a bygge mager masse, vil det v?re en viktig mat.

  3 egg

 Du trenger protein for a bygge muskelmasse , og eggprotein er mest biologisk verdifullt av alle naturlige kilder.

Sikkert at du har hort mer enn en gang melodien at det er darlig a spise mye egg. Det er en av sa mange myter at den allerede er mer enn forvist.

Ikke bare er det ikke darlig, men den spanske hjertestiftelsen selv erkl?rer det det er ingen grunn til a begrense inntaket.

Glem bare a spise de hvite, hele egget er mye bedre mat.

4-rodt kjott

100 gram rodt kjott gir omtrent 22 gram protein. Videre er denne type kjott rik pa kreatin, linolsyre, alanin og jern / mineraler.

Den mindre positive siden er det hoye fettinnholdet, men siden rodt kjott er en optimal mat for a utfore harde treningsokter med hoy intensitet, er det lurt a inkludere dem i en volum diett.

  5-Tuna

 En annen av dem mat for a fa muskelmasse.

Det presenteres vanligvis pakket i vann eller olje, og gir omtrent 30 gram protein, med veldig lave fettnivaer.

Av denne grunn kan den brukes som hoved proteinkilde i definisjon dietter eller hvis du vil skaffe mager masse.

Og ogsa, siden det normalt tas i hermetikk, kan det lett transporteres og forbrukes uten behov for noen forberedelser.

6-Salmon

 I likhet med tunfisk er laks en av de matvarene du trenger a legge til listen over must-have.

Kombinasjonen av hoyt proteininnhold med essensielt fett (inkludert det ekstraordin?re Omega 3) gjor laks til en av de beste matvarene a markedsfore muskelvekst.

I tillegg til a v?re en veldig velsmakende fisk, inneholder den gunstige stoffer for hjertehelsen.

  7-Havregryn

Havregryn er en av de beste frokostblandingene du kan spise hvis du har tenkt det fa muskler og miste fett.

Pa den ene siden er den hoy i protein (13,5grs), samtidig som det er et sammensatt karbohydrat som ikke skaper insulinpigger, men sakte frigjores.

Hvis du legger til det hoye innholdet av vitaminer, Omega 6 og fiber, har vi en av de mest komplette karbohydratene til muskelvekst.

8-notter

 Valnotter, mandler og hasselnotter er noen av nottene du bor ta med i kostholdet ditt.

EN diett for a fa muskelmasse ma inneholde et hoyt antall kalorier og notter til a oppfylle dette kravet.

Sammensetningen er rik pa sunt fett.

De inneholder et betydelig antall proteiner og andre viktige stoffer for kroppen, for eksempel antioksidanter, som bekjemper handlingen av frie radikaler.

9-brun ris

 Hvorfor brun ris? For nar du velger mellom hvit og brun ris, er det andre en mye mer komplett mat i fiber og mineraler.

Siden du trenger a konsumere karbohydrater, jo mer komplette de er, desto bedre, og brun ris har 9 ganger mer fiber, dobbelt sa mye fosfor og kalium, tre ganger sa mye kalsium og magnesium, og fire ganger mer jern og natrium enn hvit ris .

10-Seafood

 Sjomat er et utmerket kilde til lite fett protein .

Blekksprut, blekksprut, blekksprut, reker eller blaskjell er fantastisk mat, med den eneste ulempen med den hoye prisen.

Men hvis du vil gi kostholdet ditt en rekke variasjoner i proteinkildene, kan du inkludere dem en eller to ganger i uken.

  11-Milk

 Melk er en kontroversiell mat. I kroppsbygging er det de som roser det og de som avskyr det.

Men det kan ikke benektes at det er en av disse matvarene som hjelper de som har vanskeligst for a ga opp i vekt.

Til fordel for dette ma den hoye biologiske verdien av proteinet bemerkes, men det er riktig at det ma tas hensyn til dets fettinnhold.

Selv om du tar det skummet, kan laktose fremdeles dekke deg opp, ved a forhindre at kroppen din gar i ketontilstand, slik at du ikke ser mye av det i definisjonskosthold.

Men hvis dette ikke er problemet ditt, men motsatt, hvis du har provd alt og ikke vet hvordan du far muskelmasse, tilsett 1 liter melk til kostholdet ditt daglig, og du vil snart sette pris pa endringer.

12-Pulser

 Belgfrukter er en mat som inneholder en god balanse mellom karbohydrater og vegetabilske proteiner.

Selv om de sistnevnte ikke blir absorbert av kroppen sa vel som animalske proteiner, er det en god ide at linser, erter, kikerter eller bonner inngar i kostholdet ditt noen ganger.

Forbruk belgfrukter 2 til 3 ganger i uken lar deg tilsette n?ringsstoffer av god kvalitet og tilsette litt variasjon angaende dine viktigste og viktigste proteinkilder (kjott, fisk, egg)

13-sote poteter

 Nar vi velger de beste matvarene for a fa muskelmasse, vil vi alltid velge komplekse karbohydrater som en energikilde , og innenfor disse, for de som forarsaker en lavere insulinpike.

Sotpoteter er en veldig verdifull energikilde som imidlertid utloser en lavere insulinrespons i kroppen enn for eksempel poteter.

Dette betyr at vi vil dra nytte av deres energi og transportkapasitet av aminosyrer til muskler, men det vil v?re mye vanskeligere for dem a konvertere til fett.

14-skimmet glatt ost

 Med 8 gram protein for hver 100 gram er skummet smoothie en veldig allsidig mat, og det er derfor den har blitt sa popul?r blant gjengangere pa treningsstudioet.

Du kan ta den som en dessert med sotningsmiddel og fruktbiter, tilsette torket frukt eller legge den til smoothiene dine.

Du kan til og med lage et proteinrikt pannekakedeig ved a blande det med egg og havrekli.

I alle fall er resultatet rik pa protein for a oke muskelmassen, sunn og deilig.

Generelle tips for a oke muskelmassen

 Muskelvekst involverer mange faktorer. Hvis du har problemer nar det gjelder a bygge muskler, se pa denne posten , det vil v?re til stor hjelp.

  Treningsdelen er sammensatt, men ern?ring har ogsa mange detaljer som bestemmer mer eller mindre rask fremgang.

A kjenne til hvor mye protein du bor konsumere, riktig makron?ringsstoffbalanse, eller hvor ofte du bor spise for a holde kroppen din i en permanent anabole tilstand er noklene du trenger a vite for a maksimere fremgangen din.

Hvor mye protein a ta om dagen?

Pa daglig proteininntak nodvendig for en person som trener med vekter, har det v?rt mange studier.

Pa den ene siden er det anbefalingene som helseorganisasjoner kommer med om daglig proteininntak.

De beromte 0,8 gram protein per kg kroppsvekt anbefalt av WHO er langt fra tilstrekkelig for en person som driver med intens fysisk aktivitet.

Sa er det andre studier, i noen tilfeller finansiert av supplement selskaper, som oppgir at behovene til en person som utforer styrketrening med hoy intensitet er 3 gram protein per kg kroppsvekt.

Jeg foretrekker en mer objektiv tiln?rming, for eksempel den som presenteres av International Society for Sports Nutrition (ISSN), som gir en serie veldig interessante konklusjoner om protein og trening etter a ha analysert hundrevis av studier som har provd denne saken.

  I utgangspunktet hva ISSN sier om det daglige proteininntaket er at:

?     For a oke muskelmasse og opprettholde muskelmasse gjennom en positiv proteinbalanse, er et daglig inntak i omradet 1,4-2,0 g protein / kg kroppsvekt / dag (g / kg * dag) tilstrekkelig for de fleste som trener.

?     Det er nye bevis som tyder pa at okt proteininntak (storre enn 3 gram per kg kroppsvekt) kan ha positive effekter pa kroppssammensetningen hos individer som er trent i motstand mot tap av kroppsfett.

Og etter a ha analysert aspekter som proteinkilder, forbrukstid, mengder og andre faktorer som pavirker assimilering av den, konkluderer han med at

"Mengden avhenger av treningsmodus og intensitet, kvaliteten pa proteinet som er inntatt, samt energien og karbohydratstatusen til individet. Det skal imidlertid bemerkes at det er forelopige bevis for at inntak av mye hoyere mengder protein (gt; 3 g / kg * d) kan gi en fordel nar det gjelder kroppssammensetning. ”

Selvfolgelig, hvis du prover a fa muskler, vet du at du ma spise mye protein.

Men det er vanskelig a fa disse mengdene gjennom mat alene.

I det minste, hvis du vil beholde litt kontroll over kaloriene du bruker.

Hvordan kan du da oppna det bidraget som gjor at vesentlige endringer i kroppssammensetningen kan finne sted? Hvor far jeg det proteinet?

Igjen siterer vi anbefalingen som International Society of Sports Nutrition kommer med i denne forbindelse:

"Tilskudd er en praktisk mate a sikre tilstrekkelig kvalitet og mengde proteininntak, samtidig som kaloriinntaket minimeres, spesielt for idrettsutovere som generelt fullforer hoye treningsvolumer."

Karbohydrater: nokkelen til kroppen din

Karbohydratinntak er det som i stor grad vil bestemme kroppsbygningen du viser.

Vil du v?re som de store guttene i treningsstudioet, bevege store vekter og fole deg sterk?

V?r forberedt pa a spise mange, men mange karbohydrater.

Er du flere av dem som leter etter en markert kroppsbygning der musklene vises tydelig under huden?

Din tiln?rming ma v?re motsatt. Reduser karbohydrater til det minste minimum.

I alle fall er det vanlige en mellomstilling.

Onsker a oppna en viss storrelse mens du viser et akseptabelt godt niva av muskeldefinisjon.

Karbohydrater er kroppens viktigste energikilde, og derfor kan vi ikke klare oss uten dem.

Det viktige er a justere mengden du forbruker til malet du vil oppna.

I tillegg til at du trenger energi for a trene hardt, et krav uten at musklene ikke vil vokse, genererer karbohydrater frigjoring av insulin, som er stoffet som transporterer aminosyrer til muskelen, slik at det kan reparere og vokse.

Derfor vil karbohydrater og hvordan du handterer dem ha stor innflytelse pa kroppen du oppnar.

Mellom 40 og 50% av kaloriene du spiser skal v?re karbohydrater, helst sammensatte.

Fett ja eller nei?

Fett og en god fysikk virker som motsatte konsepter. sannhet?

Men, fett er et nodvendig makron?ringsstoff at vi ikke kan slutte a konsumere.

Ikke bare er det en alternativ energikilde til karbohydrater, men de er nodvendige for at en rekke interne prosesser i kroppen kan utvikle seg normalt.

Nokkelen til a dra nytte av fordelene som fett gir deg og unnga a akkumulere dem i kroppen eller i arteriene der de kan odelegge kroppen din, eller enda verre, helsen din, er a vite hvilken type fett du bor spise og hvilke a unnga.

Det er viktig a opprettholde mengden kalorier du legger i kroppen din fra dette makron?ringsstoffet.

Unnga mettet og transfett sa mye som mulig, og gi foretrukket enumettet og flerumettet fett.

Forsok a begrense fettkildene dine til fisk, notter, olivenolje og avokado.

Disse vil hjelpe deg hold deg sunn og vil ikke forstyrre det fysiske malet du vil oppna.

Derfor fett, ja, men bra og i riktig mengde.

Hvor mange maltider om dagen?

Uansett hvilket nav?rende niva du har, a bygge muskler krever en konstant tilforsel av n?ringsstoffer, som gjor at kroppen har et tilstrekkelig niva av energi og nok protein til a dekke kroppens behov og bygge nytt muskelvev.

Dette er vanskelig a oppna med mindre enn fem maltider om dagen, og dette bor v?re din referanse.

Under dette tallet vil det v?re veldig vanskelig for deg a gi kroppen de proteiner og kalorier som er nodvendige for dette formalet.

Na ma vi gjore noen punkter i denne forbindelse:

?     Fem er ikke en flyttbar figur. Avhengig av nivaet ditt, kan det faktisk v?re noen flere (fagpersoner kan lett lage opptil 7-8 maltider om dagen), men hvis de er fire og komplette nok, skjer det heller ingenting.

?      Mener vi mat, eller inkluderer vi proteinshakes i dem? Det anbefales a lage minimum 4 faste maltider, og derfra legge til noe mer i form av kosttilskudd. Dette kan lett fore til 6-7 daglige inntak av n?ringsstoffer, noe som sikkert er nok til a dekke alle behovene til en organisme som er utsatt for et hoyt ettersporselsniva.

konklusjon

Det har ikke noe a si om du er i volum diett eller om du har tenkt a fa muskler og miste fett.

Uansett mal, deg trenger a spise godt for a oke musklene.

Her har du v?rt i stand til a l?re mye verdifull informasjon om de beste matvarene for a fa muskelmasse.

Og na som du vet hva du skal spise for a fa muskelmasse, er det din tur til a handle.

Planlegg kostholdet ditt godt.

Forvis alt som holder deg fra dine mal fra handlekurven.

Ha disiplin.

Tiden og svetten du legger igjen i treningsstudioet vil gjore resten.

Hvis du etter alt dette fortsatt har problemer med a bygge muskler, anbefaler jeg denne artikkelen.

[thelingspace]

Capturing Swedish Islands (Linguistically)

An interesting question found its way into our inbox recently, asking about relative clauses in Swedish, and wondering whether their unique characteristics might pose a problem for some of the linguistic theories we’ve talked about on our channel. So if you want a discussion of syntax, Swedish, and subjacency (with some eye-tracking thrown in), this is for you!

So yes, there is a hypothesis that Swedish relative clauses break one of the basic principles by which language is thought to work. In particular, it’s been claimed that one of the governing principles of language is Subjacency, which basically says that when words move around in a sentence, like when a statement gets turned into a question, those words can’t move around without limit. Instead, they have to hop around in small skips and jumps to get to their destination. To make this more concrete, consider the sentence in (1).

     (1) Where did Nick think Carol was from?

The idea goes that a sentence like this isn’t formed by moving the word “where” directly from the end to the beginning, as in (2). Instead, we suppose that it happens in steps, by moving it to the beginning of the embedded clause first, and then moving it all the way to the front of the sentence as a whole, shown in (3).

     (2a) Did Nick think Carol was from where?

     (2b) Where did Nick think Carol was from _?

     (3a) Did Nick think Carol was from where?

     (3b) Did Nick think where Carol was from _?

     (3c) Where did Nick think _ Carol was from _?

One of the advantages of supposing that this is how questions are formed is that it’s easy to explain why some questions just don’t work. The question in (4) sounds pretty weird — so weird that it’s hard to know what it’s even supposed to mean. (The asterisk marks it as unacceptable.)

     (4) *Where did Nick ask who was from _?

The explanation behind this is that the intermediate step that “where” normally would have made on its way to the front is rendered impossible because the “who” in the middle gets in its way. It’s sitting in exactly the spot inside the structure of the sentence that “where” would have used to make its pit stop.

More generally, Subjacency is used as an explanation for ‘islands,’ which are the parts of sentences where words like “where” and “when” often seem to get stranded. And one of the most robust kinds of island found across the world’s languages is the relative clause, which is why we can’t ever turn (5) into (6).

     (5) Nick is friends with a hero who lives on another planet

     (6) *Where is Nick friends with a hero who lives _?

Surprisingly, Swedish — alongside other mainland Scandinavian languages like Norwegian — seems to break this rule into pieces. The sentence in (7) doesn’t have a direct translation into English that sounds very natural.

    (7a) Såna blommor            såg    jag    en man som sålde på torget

    (7b) Those kinds of flowers    saw    I    a man that sold in square-the    (gloss)

    (7c) *Those kinds of flowers, I saw a man that sold in the square

So does that mean we have to toss all our progress out the window, and start from scratch? Well, let’s not be too hasty. For one, it’s worth noting that even the English version of the sentence can be ‘rescued’ using what’s called a resumptive pronoun, filling the gap left behind by the fronted noun phrase “those kinds of flowers.”

     (8) Those kinds of flowers, I saw a man that sold them in the square

For many speakers, the sentence in (8) actually sounds pretty good, as long as the pronoun “them” is available to plug the leak, so to speak. At the very least, these kinds of sentences do find their way into conversational speech a whole lot. So, whether a supposedly inviolable rule gets broken or not isn’t as black-and-white as it might appear. What’s maybe a more compelling line of thinking is that what look like violations of these rules on the surface can turn out not to be, once we dig a little deeper. For instance, the sentence in (9), found in Quebec French, might seem surprising. It looks like there’s a missing piece after “exploser” (“blow up”), inside of a relative clause, that corresponds directly to “l'édifice” (“the building”) — so, right where a gap shouldn’t be possible.

     (9a) V'là l'édifice qu'y a un gars qui a fait exploser _

     (9b) *This is the building that there is a man who blew up

But that embedded clause has some very strange properties that have given linguists reasons to think it’s something more exotic. For one, the sentence in (9) above only functions with what’s known as a stage-level predicate — so, a verb that describes an action that takes place over a relatively short period of time, like an explosion. This is in contrast to an individual-level predicate, which can apply over someone’s whole lifetime. When we replace one kind of predicate with another, what comes out as garbage in English now sounds equally terrible in French.

     (10a) *V’là l'édifice qu'y a un employé qui connaît _

     (10b) *This is the building that there is an employee who knows

Interestingly, stage-level predicates seem to fundamentally change the underlying structures of these sentences, so that other apparently inviolable rules completely break down. For instance, with a stage-level predicate, we can now fit a proper name in there, which is something that English (and many other languages) simply forbid.

     (11a) Y a Jean qui est venu

     (11b) *There is John who came    (cannot say out-of-the-blue to mean “John came”)

For this reason, along with some other unusual syntactic properties that come hand-in-hand, it’s supposed that these aren’t really relative clauses at all. And not being relative clauses, the “who” in (9) isn’t actually occupying a spot that any other words have to pass through on their way up the tree. That is, movement isn’t blocked like how it normally would be in a genuine relative clause.

Still, Swedish has famously resisted any good analysis. Some researchers have tried to explain the problem away by claiming that what look like relative clauses are actually small clauses — the “Carol a friend” part of the sentence below — since small clauses are happy to have words move out of them.

     (12a) Nick considers Carol a friend

     (12b) Who does Nick consider _ a friend?

But the structures that words can move out of in Swedish clearly have more in common with noun phrases containing relative clauses, than clauses in and of themselves. In (13), it just doesn’t make sense to think of the verb “träffat” (“meet”) as being followed by a clause, in the same way it did for “consider.”

     (13a) Det    har    jag    inte träffat    någon som gjort

     (13b) that    have    I    not met    someone that done

     (13c) *That, I haven’t met anyone who has done

So what’s next? Here, it’s important not to miss the forest for the trees. Languages show amazing variation, but given all the ways it could have been, language as a whole also shows incredible uniformity. It’s truly remarkable that almost all the languages we’ve studied carefully so far, regardless of how distant they are from each other in time and space, show similar island effects. Even if Swedish turns out to be a true exception after all is said and done, there’s such an overwhelming tendency in the opposite direction, it begs for some kind of explanation. If our theory is wrong, it means we need to build an even better one, not that we need no theory at all.

And yet the situation isn’t so dire. A recent eye tracking study — the first of its kind to address this specific question — suggests a more nuanced set of facts. Generally, when experimental subjects read through sentences, looking for open spots where a dislocated word might have come from as they process what they’re seeing, they spend relatively less time fixated on the parts of sentences that are syntactic islands, vs. those that aren’t. In other words, by default, readers in these experiments tend to ignore the possibility of finding gaps inside syntactic islands, since our linguistic knowledge rules that out. And in this study, it was found that sentences like the ones in (7) and (13), which seem to show that Swedish can move words out from inside a relative clause, tend to fall somewhere between full-on syntactic islands and structures that typically allow for movement, in terms of where readers look, and for how long. This suggests that Swedish relative clauses are what you might call ‘weak islands,’ letting you move words out of them in some circumstances, but not in others. And this is in line with the fact that not all kinds of constituents (in this case, “why”) can be moved out of these relative clauses, as the unacceptability of the sentence in (14) shows. (In English, the sentence cannot be used to ask why people were late.)

     (14a) *Varföri    känner    du    många som blev sena till festeni?

     (14b) Why        know        you    many who were late to party-the

     (14c) *Why do you know many people who were late to the party?

For reasons we don’t yet fully understand, relative clauses in Swedish don’t obviously pattern with relative clauses in English. At the same time, the variation between them isn’t so deep that we’re forced to throw out everything we know about how language works. The search for understanding is an ongoing process, and sometimes the challenges can seem impossible, but sooner or later we usually find a way to puzzle out the problem. And that can only ever serve to shed more light on what we already know!

[clonegirl99]

Meshurok - Chapter 30

He didn’t know how long they sat like that, just gazing at one another with teary eyes.

He sat on the bench beside her, unable to take his eyes off her – the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. Seeing the dark purple bruising on her chest was agonizing. He should have made sure she had better armor, more training before they went out. He should have assigned her to a different room so that the scrappers would have come across him or Kom’rk instead. He should have had remotes out to detect threats. If she hadn’t shot back and known how to use a knife – and he had chastised her about her knife choices… If she… And he hadn’t told her…

“Jaing…” She shook her head. “Come back. What’s the guilt about? If anything, you should feel vindicated.”

“No…” He kissed her hands. “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. You do know how to handle yourself.”

“Mostly,” she said. “The whole Force thing does help. The thing with the tree and the tinny…” She smiled. “But you’re a Mandalorian, a commando… My commando. And an officer carrying out a mission. You know me as an analyst, not as an operator – and, yes, that’s not what I am. I am an analyst, and this is your territory. You were right to be sober about it and to expect me to be the same.”

“It’s not just that, Sigi…” He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t know how to…” He struggled to find a word. “I’ve never felt like this. I didn’t know this is a way I could feel. It’s soft, calming, colorful, exciting... It’s like… Like the first time I had uj’alayi. You’re complex and… and sweet.” He caressed her cheek. “Unique. Exciting. Comforting… You’re an entirely new world.”

He held her face in his hands like some precious, delicate thing.

“Before you, Sigi, everything was bland, and I didn’t even realize it.”

She brought her hand to his face, brushing her thumb over his lips, and smiled sweetly.

“I can’t go back to ration cubes and nutrient paste, ner meshur’ika. I can’t lose you.”

A tear fell from her eye. He caught it and brushed it away.

“You have given me… everything. I had never thought about the future as anything other than an abstract thing I was denied by the Kaminiise. My only real long-term goals were finding a cure to our aging and getting revenge. Other than that…” He let the thought fade out.

Tears were falling freely from her eyes now, but she was smiling gently.

“You’ve made me excited for the future. I want as much time with you as is possible, Sigi. You are the most beautiful gem, my precious treasure. I need you to know that, ner meshurika. I need you to know that I love you.”

She tugged on the collar of his bodysuit to bring his lips to hers. “Ya amar, hayati… Ana bahebak. I love you.”

“Kar’tayli gar darasuum, ner meshur’ika.”

His commlink chirped. “Open up, vod’ike, got some gifts for you.”

He sighed and let his head hang for a moment before standing and lowering the ramp to let Kom’rk onto the ship. His brother appeared and tossed him a thirty-liter ruck filled with datadiscs before taking off his helmet.

“Aren’t you two a cheery pair. Why so somber?”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Who died?’” she quipped.

Kom’rk’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Not gonna sleep well for a few days, but it was me or them. Being around you disturbed shabuire changes a person’s perspective.”

He sat down next to Sigi, put an arm around her shoulders and held out a remote det. “Got you something special, rish’ika.”

“What’s this?” she asked, head cocked to the side. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Depends on what you think it is, vod’ika.” He smirked, not unkindly.

“Sex toy, right?”

Kom’rk choked.

“That’s the other reason we call her rish’ika. Brilliant, deadly, and she can make Mereel blush,” Jaing laughed. He was happy to see much of her color had returned to her cheeks.

“Do I get to blow up the data vault?” She studied the device with a bemused expression on her face.

“I thought you should get to do the honors, what with this being a less than ideal experience for you.”

She looked at him with a deviant grin. “Can’t have all that data just sitting there, especially if the chakaare come back looking for it.”

“Exactly,” Kom’rk laughed and patted her on the back.

“Probably need to get rid of some evidence too…”

“Wired those shabuire specifically. No one shoots cuun vod’ika and gets away with it, right, ner vod?”

“I don’t think they’re going to try that again,” she said dryly.

Kom’rk smiled and shook his head. “I like this one, Jaing’ika. Don’t lose her, alright?” He stood up and squeezed her shoulder. “Really nice to meet you, Sig’ika. Good work today, all around. Looking forward to seeing what you find in that data. Plenty to keep you busy while he’s away.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Kom’ika. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“K’oyacyi, ner vod. Oh – Sigi, wait for my signal before you click. I want to see my work in action. And then you can tell Prud’ika he’s got competition.”

She chuckled. “Got it. K’oyacyi, Kom’ika.”

“K’oyacyi, rish’ika, ner vod’ika.”

“Clear.”

She looked at him with big, excited eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Light it up, ner meshur’ika.”

She let out a deviant giggle and, with exaggerated movements, clicked the det.

“Kandosii!” Kom’rk’s cheer came through the comm as they watched a ball of fire erupt from the side of the mountain below.

“Fuck those guys,” she crowed. “And fuck the Seps,” she added with a crooked grin. She sat back and looked at him. “You know what? Fuck the Republic too. And the Jedi while we’re at.”

He snorted. “Fuck them all.”

“Mm. Mostly fuck me, though. Please” She winked at him. “I mean it. I need you to fuck my soul back into my body like you did before.”

“So you were kriffing your targeter back on Corrie,” Kom’rk laughed over the still-open comm freq. “Don’t think I need to tell you to enjoy the flight back to Triple Zero.”

Her eyes popped open before she buried her face in her hands, laughing.

He groaned and shook his head as he set the ship’s course and fired up the hyperdrive.

The crew quarters were lit only by sensors and path lights, just enough to be able to see her eyes sparkle when she looked into his. She stood in front of him wearing only a sleeveless undershirt and panties. He knew her shebs looked amazing in those panties, the way they accented the fullness of her flesh. He knew that, without a bra, her nipples were standing out behind the thin fabric of her top. He knew that she would get goosebumps when she felt his fingers on her skin, and her lips would quiver.

“Sigi, ner meshur’ika,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful.”

His gentle kiss stopped her from responding. Another kiss caught her sigh when he snaked his arms around her waist and closed the space between them.

“You are ori’mesh’la. Mesh’lane dala o’r oyu’baat, ner meshur’ika.”

He kissed her slowly, lingering close to her sweet lips when he paused to breathe her in.

Her hands clutched at the fabric of his bodysuit, trying to find something to hold onto.

“What do you need right now, rish’ika?”

“…Hold onto…” she whispered in that almost-whiny voice she used when she was lost in pleasure. “Need to hold onto you…”

“I’ve got you, cyar’ika.” He dropped a hand to her shebs and pressed her hips firmly into his, shifting his weight to bring one foot behind her so he could tip her back just the slightest bit.

She whimpered and sank into his embrace, giving him the prettiest little sigh when he slid his other hand under her shirt and up along her spine. Her breathing was slow and easy, but shaky when he kissed her and pulled her lower lip between his, tickling with the tip of his tongue. He could feel her hard nipples brushing against his chest with the rising, falling, hitching of her breaths.

He moved his hand to the small of her back, trailing his fingertips gently over her skin and rewarding her little moans with deeper kisses. The hand under her shirt moved higher, lifting the hem and exposing the delightfully sensitive skin of her belly. He took the opportunity afforded by her stuttering gasp to pull the shirt off, dragging his fingernails up and down her sides as she draped her arms around his neck. He loved the way she sucked her breath in between her teeth when he wrapped one arm around her waist and tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull.

“I love you, Sigi,” he whispered as he dropped his lips to her neck.

She moaned when his breath ghosted over the skin behind her ear, and whimpered as he kissed and nibbled his way down to her jaw and around to her throat.

“You are kandosii’la, ner meshur’ika. Absolutely gorgeous.” He paused to fill his lungs with her scent. “Ner verd’ika…”

He nipped at the delicate skin under her jaw and hummed with delight when she squeaked out a quiet moan.

“Ner mirdala meshur’ika. Ner kotep rish’ika,” he murmured in her ear before nipping her earlobe.

He had her trembling in his arms, his precious girl, his Sigi, when he returned his attention to her pouting lips. She kissed him back with that slow sensuality that characterized her touch in his mind. She was comfort and warmth and unrushed pleasure – or passionate abandon and hedonism. She was unlike anyone else in the galaxy, his little wildcat, his precious gem.

She was life outside of this war, purpose beyond the infliction of pain.

“Jaing… love…” she breathed. “Please…”

***

He kissed her one more time before he stepped back to allow her to stand more firmly as he freed himself from the top half of his bodysuit. The feeling of her warm, soft, smooth skin against his made him hum a moan as he kissed her again. She responded with her own soft sounds of pleasure.

Her hands explored his abdomen and chest, her light touch enough to make his head lull forward until their foreheads touched.

“Please, Jaing…” She struggled with the seal of his bodysuit with one hand, the other teasing his confined erection.

He nodded, smiling. “Lie down, ner meshur’ika.” He took her hands in his and pressed each to his lips before letting her go.

She didn’t take her eyes off his as she lowered herself to the pile of packing blankets, a thin sheet over the top, that would have to suffice until he could get her back to a place more befitting of what she deserved. His cock sprang loose of its confines as she lifted her hips and slid her panties down her thighs. He stepped free from his bodysuit and tossed it to the side as he sank to his knees and slid her panties the rest of the way down her legs.

Her figure was outlined against their makeshift nest by the dim red, green, and amber lights in the cabin. He swallowed hard as he followed those poetic lines with his palms, reveling in her velvety softness and intoxicated by the quiet sounds of pleasure she made for him.

She grabbed his wrist as he began to move down to prepare her body for him.

“Stay with me. Here,” she requested. “Please.”

“Of course, ner meshur’ika…” He brushed her hair away from her face and caressed her cheek as he stretched out beside her, propped up on his elbow.

She held his face in one hand and offered him a gentle, blissful smile. “I love you, Jaing.”

He smiled down at her as he traced abstract shapes over her upper body, careful to avoid the ugly bruising between her breasts. “I love you too, rish’ika.”

He fell into a long, indulgent kiss, each movement guided by the sensation of her lips and tongue and her body’s responses as she relaxed. When his fingers reached that magical spot where her abdominal muscles dipped near her hipbone, where the skin was so sensitive and soft, she keened, winding her hips and spreading her thighs.

He rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, and breathed deeply through his nose as his hand drifted down along her abdomen. The little sounds she made before he even reached her core had him beskar-hard against her thigh. He chose to linger there in that deliciously tense moment of anticipation, brushing his fingertips and the backs of his knuckles up and down her body until she started to twitch and whimper whenever he came close to her center.

He continued to work slowly, stroking her bared sex with just the back of his index finger, which made her gasp and pant.

“Poor thing,” he murmured against her lips, drawing out more sweet sounds with his kisses. “Wound so tight…”

He turned his hand palm-down, fingertips grazing the heated flesh between her legs, and she cried out, voice already high-pitched and breathy. The sweetness building at her core began to drip just from that light touch.

He growled and clenched his jaw, taking a few slow breaths before continuing on. “Ner meshur’ika, you…”

His next touch was heavier and was met with a ragged gasp and whine as his middle finger parted her lips.

“…are so kriffing sexy.”

He continued teasing her as he shifted his weight, sliding his free arm under her head and hooking his leg over hers. His finger glided through her slit with ease, and in the confined space of the crew cabin, with all its hard surfaces, the subtle, wet sounds were amplified. Her moans and sighs as he spread her slick to prepare her to take him in were like music.

She spread her legs as well as she could with one trapped between his and tilted her hips to give him better access as she bloomed under his touch. When he dipped the tip of his middle finger into her pooling desire, she whined and tried to lift her hips. She was hungry and more than ready to be stretched and filled.

She lay there, eyes closed, back arching with each teasing touch, breathing irregular and punctuated by wordless cries and moans. He had yet to focus on her clit in earnest or start the process of working her open with his dexterous fingers, but she was already growing tense. He wondered if he could make her cum this way, if all the built-up adrenaline and emotion could make her tip over that easily.

He continued to tease and play, spreading her slick generously, and returned his attentions to her neck and jaw, nibbling, licking, sucking gently. She mewled and panted as he toyed with her, winding her hips, chasing his touch.

“I think about this every night when I’m not in your bed,” he whispered in her ear, his voice husky and low. “About the way you feel, how shabla good you feel. How wet you get for me… The way your body starts to tense… Mmm… just like that… when you’re going to cum. The pretty little sounds you make and the way your breathing changes when you’re close… The way your body opens to me and how good it feels to be inside you. How good it feels when you cum on my cock…”

She let out three panting moans and then cried out, bucking and arching as her orgasm shook her.

He hummed and chuckled. “That was beautiful, ner meshur’ika…” She kissed her thoroughly until she whimpered. She was even wetter now. “Should we keep going?”

She growled with frustration and nipped at his lower lip, making him chuckle more. “Please, Jaing,” she whined. “Fuck… Please…”

He rolled his hips to let her feel how much he wanted her. “Pror, ner mesh’la cyare, soon.”

When just the tip of his finger began to enter her, she gasped with the same release as he normally got from her with his cock.

“Oh, my sweet rish’ika. How are you so tight?”

Her muscles, left so unsatisfied by her first orgasm, clenched tight around his thick finger as it sank into her, like her body was trying to pull him in.

She moaned lasciviously and ground down on his finger and he watched her beautiful face as she fucked herself on his finger. He stifled his moan so that he didn’t drown out the slippery sounds and her little whimpers.

He pulled his finger almost all the way out of her before adding a second finger, biting down on her neck as she cried out. He pumped slowly, twisting his fingers to find new ways to make her moan and begin opening her for him.

Her hips began to move with more intent after a few minutes of his attentions, her breath growing faster.

“I want you to cum for me one more time, Sigi. Cum for me again and then I’ll be inside you… It feels so good to be inside you, ner meshur’ika. You feel kandosii’la, ner mesh’la cyare. Especially when you cum. Shab, look at you…”

He touched the pad of his thumb to her swollen clit, massaging as she rode his hand.

She yelped and moaned, panting and arching. He held her shoulder firmly, letting her strain against his grip as she closed in on another, more satisfying climax.

His cock twitched in response to her gasps and cries as she snapped and melted on his hand. He needed her, to be inside her, to know her pleasure and share it.

“Please, please, please,” she whimpered before she even finished coming down. “Please, Jaing.”

He groaned and rolled into place between her soft thighs, pulling his hand form her body’s still-pulsing embrace to spread her generous cum down his shaft before filling her with his impossibly hard cock.

“Shab, Sigi,” he gasped as her heat and lust pulled him under.

He fell into a long, slow, deep pattern, rolling his hips and giving her pleasure along his entire length, making sure she felt every inch as he slid inside and again as he pulled back. She rewarded his efforts with her own sinuous dance, meeting each roll and twist with lusty enthusiasm.

“Sigi, rish’ika,” moaned. “Cyar’ika…”

“Jaing, make me yours, tell me I’m yours,” she begged, hoarse and lost in the fluid rhythm. “Please, Jaing’ika. Fill me up and make me yours.”

He sat back on his heels, dragging her with him, shifting the angle of his cock as they resumed their rhythm. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched as spread his knees to sink lower, opening her legs wider.

She gasped and moaned obscenely as he picked up his pace, still keeping his strokes long. He took the encouragement and snapped his hips hard against hers at the apex of each thrust. The slapping of their bodies meeting over and over was loud in the little cabin.

“J-Jaing, that’s – that’s – Oh! Mmm… Jaing, you’re… that’s – how are you so good?” she sobbed. “It’s – I think. Mm. Jaing, I’m going… Oh!”

She squealed and screamed wordless gasps, bucking wildly and spasming around him. It went on and on, even as he spilled inside her, unable to take his eyes off her beautiful face as she writhed and cried out.

His rish’ika went limp, sinking into their packing blanket nest, occasional aftershocks gripping her for a moment as she laughed, trying to catch her breath. He collapsed forward, catching his weight on his elbows, careful not to crush her or put any pressure on her bruised chest.

“Sigi…” he breathed. “What do you do to me?”

“I could ask the same of you, ya amar,” she panted, gasping as he pulled out.

He rolled over onto his back, grinning as he steadied his breathing. “Every time, Sig’ika. Every time we’re together…”

“I cum so hard with you, Jaing… Shab, fuck…” she laughed. “How do you…?”

“I always do my best work when inspired. And you are an excellent muse.”

***

She giggled and shook her head. “I love you, Jaing,” she said as she sat up.

He closed his eyes and smiled, lingering with her words for a moment.

“I love you too, Sig’ika. Ner meshurok.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Do you want to use the ‘fresher while I get things moved back to the bunks?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Can we sleep here? I want to fall asleep with you.”

He took a long breath and caressed her cheek. “Of course,” he said gently. “I’ll be right here when you come back.”

She kissed him and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

She returned from the ‘fresher and crawled back into their blanket nest, pulling the thin bunk sheet over them and curling up under his arm.

He kissed the top her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You sure you don’t want to sleep in your bunk? It has to be more comfortable than the floor.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want all that space around me. I want to be able to feel you,” she said, her voice small. “I need an anchor.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I’m here, ner meshur’ika. You’re safe.”

She snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest. “Does it ever get easier?”

“What’s that, rish’ika?”

“Ki…?”

“Killing?”

She nodded.

He held her hand and stared at the ceiling. He struggled to articulate his thoughts.

“I’ve never known anything different, Sig’ika. It was always part of me, of what I do. Of what I am…” He swallowed hard, knowing how dark that sounded to aruetii.

She squeezed his hand. “Ana bahebak, ya amar. I love you. Fuck Kamino.”

He held her tight. “I love you, ner meshur’ika. Kar’tayli gar darasuum.”

Next Chapter

[alexbkrieger13]

The last match day things

Hammarby

https://www.aftonbladet.se/sportbladet/fotboll/a/Q7661x/damallsvenskan-hammarby-vinner-sm-guld-2023-efter-rysare-38-ars-vantan

https://tv.aftonbladet.se/video/362118/vinberg-en-droem-som-gar-i-uppfyllelse

https://tv.aftonbladet.se/video/362117/haer-firar-hammarby-sm-guldet-sa-jaekla-stolt

https://tv.aftonbladet.se/video/362123/guldhjaeltarna-vi-ska-till-soeder-och-det-blir-fest

https://tv.aftonbladet.se/video/362106/bajenfans-vi-kommer-riva-stan-med-sang-och-baers

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/sa-var-hammarbys-vag-till-guldet--jcasli

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/hammarby-svenska-mastare-i-damallsvenskan--bv1mb7

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/guldhjalten-madelen-janogy-om-jobbiga-vantan-pa-guldet--dkil2y

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/madelen-janogy-tokhyllas-fantastisk/

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/hammarbyspelarna-avslojar-festplanerna-ska-firas-lange-i-natt/

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/julia-roddar-om-dramatiken-varsta-fem-minuterna-i-mitt-liv/

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/fem-spaningar-janogy-en-spelare-for-stora-matcher/

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/38-ars-vantan-over-hammarby-vinner-sm-guld-/

https://www.expressen.se/sport/fotboll/damallsvenskan/supportrar-stormade-planen-innan-guldet-var-klart-borjade-ma-illa/

https://www.expressen.se/sport/fotboll/damallsvenskan/hammarby-vinner-sm-guld-2023/

https://www.expressen.se/sport/kronikorer/frida-olsson/frida-olsson-alla-andra-borde-vara-avundsjuka-pa-hammarby/

https://sverigesradio.se/artikel/gibson-sa-oerhort-stolt-och-glad

https://www.dn.se/sport/sex-nyckelmatcher-under-hammarbys-gyllene-sasong/

https://www.dn.se/sport/janogy-en-match-fran-hammarbyguld-min-personliga-resa-ar-lika-stor-som-klubbens/

Häcken

https://tv.aftonbladet.se/video/362113/haecken-missade-chansen-efter-jaetterysare

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/hacken-missade-sm-guldet-efter-malskillnadsdrama--9jl3zr

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/rubensson-och-kafaji-bankades-hade-varit-en-chansning/

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/fem-spaningar-hacken-brande-ofattbart-manga-lagen/

https://sverigesradio.se/artikel/hackens-kapten-gor-ont-i-hjartat

https://www.gp.se/sport/fotboll/h%C3%A4cken-f%C3%B6rlorar-guldet-trots-storvinst-mot-pite%C3%A5-p%C3%A5-bravida-1.114961611

https://www.gp.se/sport/fotboll/guldet-st%C3%A5r-p%C3%A5-spel-nu-avg%C3%B6rs-allt-f%C3%B6r-h%C3%A4cken-1.114884510

Relegation battle between Uppsala and BP

https://www.aftonbladet.se/sportbladet/fotboll/a/rl6aAl/damallsvenskan-uppsala-aker-ur-bp-far-kvala

https://www.svt.se/sport/fotboll/uppsala-aker-ur-damallsvenskan-efter-rysare--5s5uw5

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/uppsala-aker-ur-damallsvenskan-bp-far-kvala/

Kalmar

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/sverige/kalmar-historiskt-samst-slappte-in-over-100-mal-pa-en-sasong/

Linköping

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/damallsvenskan/festen-kom-av-sig-i-linkoping-far-noja-sig-med-tredjeplats/

https://www.fotbollskanalen.se/sverige/fem-spaningar-vad-hander-med-kristianstad-nu/

https://sverigesradio.se/artikel/missade-guldet-men-blev-skyttedrottning-kommer-gora-annu-fler-mal

oh fab thanks

[wiadomosciprasowe]

Goodyear går videre med sin Connected Business-modell for sammenknyttet virksomhet med automatisert dekkproduksjonsanlegg

https://www.y6.no/goodyear-gar-videre-med-sin-connected-business-modell-for-sammenknyttet-virksomhet-med-automatisert-dekkproduksjonsanlegg/

Goodyear går videre med sin Connected Business-modell for sammenknyttet virksomhet med automatisert dekkproduksjonsanlegg

Dan Biancalana – Mayor of Dudelange, Luxembourg, Richard J. Kramer – Chairman, Chief Executive Officer and President, Goodyear, Etienne Schneider – Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of the Economy, Luxembourg, Chris Delaney – President EMEA Dato: 21-09-2017 13:00 CEST Opprinnelig tittel på pressemeldingen: Goodyear går videre med sin Connected Business-modell for sammenknyttet virksomhet med automatisert dekkproduksjonsanlegg Kategori: , innovasjonssenter Luxembourg nytt nyskapende produksjonsprosess Mercury Premium-dekk eu Goodyear dekk –

– Vekst i kjøretøymodeller og valgmuligheter driver frem en stigende etterspørsel etter Premium-dekk

– Den nyskapende produksjonsprosessen Mercury gjør det mulig å fylle kundenes bestillinger på bestilling

– Nytt anlegg i Luxembourg skal starte produksjonen i 2019

Oslo, september 2017 – Med sine fremskritt innen sammenknyttet virksomhet kunngjør Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company i dag sine planer om å utvikle et nytt anlegg i Luxembourg som utnytter en nyskapende produksjonsprosess for å møte kundenes stigende etterspørsel etter Premium-dekk.

Den egendefinerte prosessen har fått navnet Mercury, og omfatter svært automatiserte, sammenknyttede arbeidsstasjoner og bruker ekstra produksjonsteknologier for å effektivt produsere Premium-dekk i små kvanta på bestilling for bytte- og originalutstyrskunder.

Goodyears styreleder og administrerende direktør Richard J. Kramer offentligjorde Mercury og selskapets planer ved grunnsteinsnedleggelsen for anlegget her.

«Mercury møter den økende kompleksiteten i dekkbransjen etter hvert som antallet kjøretøymodeller og valgmuligheter som kundene står overfor, fortsetter å stige», sier Kramer.

«Dette gir oss anledning til å øke hastigheten og fleksibiliteten for å møte den stigende etterspørselen etter små volumer av Goodyears Premium-dekk med gode marginer, og levere dem til kundene når de trenger dem, raskere enn noen gang.»

«Mercury vil være et skritt videre for vår Connected Business-modell med sammenknyttet virksomhet, som samler all virksomheten vår under samme paraply – fra produksjonsgulv til forbrukerne som velger Goodyear på nettet og i butikkene», fortsetter han.

«Den vil utfylle våre eksisterende anlegg for produksjon av store volumer og gi oss en stor konkurransefordel.»

Det nye anlegget, som planlegges å åpnes i 2019, ligger like ved Goodyears innovasjonssenter og testbaner i Luxembourg.

Selskapet investerer 77 millioner amerikanske dollar i anlegget, som vil produsere omtrent 500 000 dekk per år og skape omtrent 70 nye heltidsstillinger.

Teknologien som brukes i Mercury-prosessen har blitt utviklet og testet på Goodyears innovasjons- og utviklingssentre gjennom de siste fem årene.

Navnet Mercury er en hyllest til den greske guden Merkur, guden for handel og reiser, som også var inspirasjonen bak støvelen med vinger i Goodyears logo, skapt av Goodyears grunnlegger, Frank A. Seiberling.

Kilde: Pressekontor Goodyear Norge – PRESSEMELDING –

————

Om Goodyear

Goodyear er én av verdens ledende dekkprodusenter. Selskapet har omtrent 65 000 ansatte og produserer sine produkter på 47 anlegg i 21 land over hele verden. De to innovasjonssentrene i Akron i Ohio, USA og Colmar-Berg i Luxembourg arbeider for å utvikle avanserte produkter og tjenester som setter standarden for bransjen både innen teknologi og kjøreegenskaper. Hvis du vil ha mer informasjon om Goodyear-produkter, kan du gå til www.goodyear.no.

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[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 00627: Scorch

Kix glanced up at the familiar sound of the medbay doors opening, frowning as he saw two commando troopers walking in. Their distinctively styled helmets gave an air of uniformity, but the designs painted on them spoke of very different personalities.

The commando wearing the helmet marked with red, jagged lines - almost suggesting a handprint - was half-supporting, half-dragging another commando with a simple, gray-green helmet painted with white and yellow details. Kix studied both new arrivals, but couldn't find any visible injuries on either.

"What happened here?" Kix asked, already starting toward the men.

"Scorch here blew himself up," the red-painted commando answered, with a motion of his helmet that clearly said he was rolling his eyes. "Di'kut."

"I did not!" the injured Scorch said defensively, turning to address Kix. "I had a minor disagreement with a wall."

"Yeah?" the red-painted commando asked, "What were the arguments?"

"Whether or not the blast from a thermal detonator plus my own fabulous aim would make the wall go 'boom'," Scorch replied, clearly grinning under his helmet.

"Congratulations on winning your argument, sir," Kix said dryly, already promising himself to blow up the Resolute and everyone inside before he would let Scorch and Hardcase meet. "Let's shed the armor and see how much damage that wall's rebuttal caused."

The two commandos completed their half-walk, half-drag journey to the first bunk in the medbay and Scorch leaned up against the mattress, stifling a pained groan. The red-painted one, obviously fed up with his brother's antics, unceremoniously lifted and deposited Scorch on the bed.

"Come on, Sev!" the commando complained loudly. "You know I'm injured and delicate."

"It doesn't count as an injury if you've always been stupid," Sev told him. "I'm going to report back to Boss."

"You're going to leave me here, alone and hurt?" Scorch asked dramatically. His only reply was the medbay door closing behind Sev. He shook his head and told the door, "Well, that was rude."

The door seemed unsympathetic.

Kix cleared his throat, wondering if he should crank the scanner high enough to scan for brain injuries, when Scorch turned back to him. He pulled off his gray and white commando helmet, grinned, and stuck out a hand. "Scorch."

"I gathered," Kix replied. "I'm Kix."

"Good, I'm in the right place," Scorch said, heaving an exaggerated sigh of relief as he began stripping off the rest of his armor. "But what is the best medic in the GAR doing attached to the 501st?"

"The best medic," Kix repeated skeptically, scanning the now de-armored commando.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard the stories," Scorch told him, eyes wide and sincere, though they sparkled with an edge of barely there mischief. "Granted, mostly from the pilot on the way here, but still."

"Troopers like to talk. And as for why the 501st…" Kix let some of his constant fond exasperation come through, "no one gets in more trouble or hurts themselves in stranger ways than them."

"And you like to treat them," Scorch summed up, the look on his face more intense than the situation called for. Kix was on-edge before the commando spoke again. "Makes you feel powerful, doesn't it? Makes you feel like you're better than them, more than just a regular trooper."

"Makes me feel like I've got one more living brother," Kix corrected sharply.

Scorch raised his hands in a gesture speaking of an innocence that his sparkling eyes belied. "Hey, I had to make sure you weren't one of those power-trip troopers."

Kix shook his head and silently went to gather the supplies he would need to treat his patient, unwilling to continue an insulting conversation. However, since the commando had started it… He turned to meet Scorch's eyes. "If we're asking uncomfortable questions, let me ask one."

Scorch made a beckoning gesture with his less-injured hand, as if he were inviting Kix to continue.

"Why do you sound different from every other trooper, but look exactly like the rest of us?" It was something he had been wondering since Scorch took off his helmet, but he had been too polite to ask. At least, until the commando had accused him of treating men for the ego boost. As if it did wonders for his ego to be vomited on, covered in blood, to need to help his brothers to the 'fresher, to hold their hands as they took their last breath-

"I'm an excellent mimic," Scorch answered, using Kix's own inflection. Kix stared at him steadily until he continued in his normal offbeat voice. "Sometimes, a situation calls for a voice to be different so we don't sound like normal clone troopers, no matter how much we look like them. Delta Squad is full of differences. Boss has a thicker accent than most native Mandalorians, Fixer has worked to speak the most pure Basic, and Sev's vocal cords are damaged. Me, I just talk this way because I want to."

"Yeah, you can never meet Hardcase," Kix muttered to himself, fighting a shudder at the ridiculous accent the 501st trooper would be sure to put on as a result.

"What was that?" Scorch asked.

"I said, oh excellent mimic, that you've bruised your ribs, pulled a hamstring, and most of the left side of your body will be covered in bruises for the next few weeks, maybe less if you can take a couple of days to rest up." Kix frowned down at the datapad showing the scanner's results. "You managed not to break anything, which is - frankly - a miracle."

"Commando armor," Scorch told him with a sharp rap on his chestplate, wincing as the movement strained his injuries.

"Bruised. Ribs." Kix repeated, biting the end off each word so that the commando would be sure to understand him. "I'll issue you some pain meds, but the most you can do to improve your recovery time is to sleep as much as possible and stay hydrated. Most importantly-"

Kix cut himself short as the medbay door opened and Scorch instinctively turned to see the new arrivals, hissing in pain at the twisting motion. "-don't twist or move your body in unusual ways," Kix finished, giving a perfunctory salute to the commando sergeant who stepped up to the bed.

"How is the patient?" the sergeant asked. Despite Scorch's overly casual manner, Kix had to admit that the commando had given an accurate description of his squadmates and their voices. This one with the thick Mando'a accent must be Boss.

With a shrug to answer the sergeant's question, Kix told him, "Not much I can do, actually."

"Told you those thermal dets would kill you some day," the rough-voiced Sev said to Scorch with no small amount of satisfaction.

"What? No," Kix told him, nettled by the idea that a patient of his could die from such minor injuries. "Scorch is covered in bruises and he pulled a few muscles. Nothing life-threatening, but they aren't injuries I can do much for. I'm issuing pain meds, but he could stand a few days of bed rest, sir."

Boss nodded while Scorch looked horrified. "I can't stay on bed rest!"

The last commando, the non-accented Fixer, sounded irritated by his squadmate. "Six-Two, you can't just choose which orders to follow. If Three-Eight says you're on bed rest, that's where you'll be unless you want a court-martial."

Scorch looked pleadingly at Kix. "I could die from my injuries, right, Kix? Even Fixer wouldn't try to boss around a dying brother."

"Er... " Kix trailed off, glancing around at the group of commandos. "Bruises have a notoriously low fatality rate, Scorch."

"I think his vocal cords may have been damaged," Sev observed. "Could you order a total lack of speaking for the foreseeable future? For medical reasons?"

"We'd make it worth your while," Fixer wheedled.

"Is it too late to say I don't want any visitors?" Scorch asked, though even that sounded like a joke.

"We probably should leave," Boss agreed, cutting through Sev and Fixer's gloating with a simple reminder of, "Lots of reports to write."

"Ugh. Really, sir? For a self-inflicted injury?"

"I was having a good day, Boss."

Before he left, Boss patted Scorch gently on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay, Scorch. Rest up or we'll leave you behind on our next mission."

"Kix?" Kix glanced over at the commando sergeant, one brow lifting in silent question. "Make sure he rests. Sedate him or strap him down if you need to."

With one last threatening look in Scorch's direction, Boss left the medbay. Kix silently held out the pain meds for Scorch, passing him a cup of water at the proper time.

"You're good to sleep now," Kix told the commando. "If the pain gets bad again, let me know and I'll increase your dosage."

Scorch nodded and had just settled back against the pillow when the medbay door opened and Kix's heart nearly stopped. He walked briskly to the front of the medbay, making small pushing motions at the new arrival. "Hardcase, get out of here. You're fine."

"You don't even know what's wrong yet," Hardcase pouted.

"Hardcase?" Scorch asked, sitting up with a manic interest gleaming in his eyes.

"Yeah?" Hardcase asked, leaning to peer around Kix's shoulder. "Whoa, a commando! I heard you guys get to deal with more explosives than anyone!"

"You ever juggled thermal detonators?" Scorch asked, giving Kix an innocent shrug when the medic glared.

"No!" Hardcase said, pushing past Kix to perch by Scorch's bedside, wearing a look of utter fascination.

In only moments, the two were swapping stories, each trying to outdo the other while both seemed impressed by the other's exploits. Kix groaned. Force willing, he wouldn't have much to do with Scorch after this, but he already expected a wild number of injuries in Hardcase's near future.

---

A/N - First off, I want to apologize to... well, just everyone. For those who are not familiar with Republic Commando, you're probably a bit confused about who these guys are and why they're here. I read a fic featuring the characters in a minor role and proceeded to inhale everything I could find with them in it. For those who are familiar with Republic Commando, I would like to apologize for any errors in characterization, background, etc. Sidebar: if you know of a good fic featuring Delta Squad, please share the name of it with me!

Please reblog this work! It helps me grow my readership!