#project mogul

[spaceintruderdetector]

Project Mogul/Spy balloons

Project Mogul (sometimes referred to as Operation Mogul) was a top secret project by the US Army Air Forces involving microphones flown on high-altitude balloons, whose primary purpose was long-distance detection of sound waves generated by Soviet atomic bomb tests. The project was carried out from 1947 until early 1949. It was a classified portion of an unclassified project by New York University (NYU) atmospheric researchers.[1] The project was moderately successful, but was very expensive and was superseded by a network of seismic detectors and air sampling for fallout, which were cheaper, more reliable, and easier to deploy and operate.

Project Mogul was conceived by Maurice Ewing who had earlier researched the deep sound channel in the oceans and theorized that a similar sound channel existed in the upper atmosphere: a certain height where the air pressure and temperature result in minimal speed of sound, so that sound waves would propagate and stay in that channel due to refraction. The project involved arrays of balloons carrying disc microphones and radio transmitters to relay the signals to the ground. It was supervised by James Peoples, who was assisted by Albert P. Crary.

One of the requirements of the balloons was that they maintain a relatively constant altitude over a prolonged period of time. Thus instrumentation had to be developed to maintain such constant altitudes, such as pressure sensors controlling the release of ballast.

The early Mogul balloons consisted of large clusters of rubber meteorological balloons, however, these were quickly replaced by enormous balloons made of polyethylene plastic. These were more durable, leaked less helium, and also were better at maintaining a constant altitude than the early rubber balloons. Constant-altitude-control and polyethylene balloons were the two major innovations of Project Mogul.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_Mogul

[eksopolitiikka]

AAROn tuoreesta raportista: lisää samaa vanhaa

kirjoittanut Kevin Randle Monet meistä ufoalan vanhan koulun konkareista, jotka ovat olleet alalla useampia vuosikymmeniä kuin haluamme myöntää, näkevät viimeisimmässä ja todennäköisesti viimeisessä AAROn raportissa monia puutteita, koska UAP:den osalta on olemassa uusi toimisto ja uusi tutkimus. Tiedämme, mitä puutteita kyseisessä arviossa on ja mitä toistuvia valheita se sisältää. Meillä on asiakirjoja, haastatteluja ja todisteita […] https://eksopolitiikka.fi/eksopolitiikka/aaron-tuoreesta-raportista-lisaa-samaa-vanhaa/

[rodspurethoughts]

"The Truth Behind the Roswell Incident: Debunking the Extraterrestrial Theories and Unraveling the Mystery"

Adobe Stock The Roswell Incident: Debunking the Extraterrestrial Theories In 1947, a mysterious object crashed near Roswell, New Mexico, sparking a frenzy of speculation and conspiracy theories about its origin. Was it a flying saucer piloted by extraterrestrial beings, or was it a military balloon as the government claimed? Decades later, the Roswell incident continues to be debated and…

[wezleii]

Back again, this time with The Gameclam Console mogul, Mistar Whyte and his new Digital son Front.

I've been working on this on and off for about a month. The project got put on hold for a good while due to a hurricane coming through my area and knocking out power for some time. Base figures are Marvel Legends Kingpin and SW Black Series Omega.

It took me an unreasonable amount of time to try to get the colors on Front as close as possible. It's difficult to recreate a digital sickly effect.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Musk never had any intention of building the Hyperloop. He only needed it to help kill or substantially delay the high-speed rail project and the alternate vision of sustainable collective transportation it offered. It threatened his interests as an automaker and his elite vision of “individualized” mobility that simply worked better for him.

[...]

In the time since California started talking about high-speed rail and Elon Musk interjected with his fantasy to help sidetrack it, China moved ahead and built a network consisting of 42,000 kilometres (26,000 miles) of track. Europe is continuing to expand its own network, and Japan is building a maglev line that will run at speeds of over 500 km/h (310 mph). The first segment from Tokyo to Nagoya could open by 2027. Not to be outdone, China is working on a maglev of its own to beat its Japanese rivals. While the Hyperloop deception spread far and wide, nowhere was it stronger than in the United States. As countries around the world moved forward with real transport improvements, North Americans were distracted by the fantasies of clueless, but self-confident tech moguls. They left people trapped in their cars and denied better options to get around that people in many other parts of the world — even those that are quite a bit poorer — take for granted. Now all they can do is shovel money at automakers to try to power cars with batteries instead of internal combustion engines. They have no vision for a better, less car dependent alternative.

[noonesgaylikegatson]

Here's the thing: Republicans are the party of the rich, but policies that help the rich fuck everyone else up, so they are inherently unpopular. Republicans hitch their wagons to white supremacists and religious fanatics who will gladly vote for them in hopes of bringing their own agenda. Rich people believe that their money is able to keep them unaffected by their social policies that harm mostly minorities.

Present day: Religious Fanatics and White Supremacists have gone too far. Their plans are so corrosive that they will actually affect the rich; Not to mention, there are a lot of nouveau rich who are also these fanatics.

So now, these rich people, "never-trumpers" want to join the democratic party and make it into a party for them. They are anti-progressive because they don't want to pay more taxes and they don't want more regulations. They want a milquetoast white democrat leader, and not one like Joe Biden who has embraced progressive policies and is now further left than 2008.

They don't want Kamala or Pete Buttigieg or Corey Booker or that skater boi from texas. They were to the left of Biden when they ran in the 2019 primary. They want someone to the right of Biden. A more corporate friendly democrat.

And keep in mind, these republicans have always been racist. And have always been white supremacist for them. This departure from the republican party is not a moral one. It's because the oppression that these Trump Republicans want isn't profitable.

These republicans were fine with rounding up Black people on bullshit charges and sending them to prison to do make them money on prison labor. (Biden ended the use of private prisons on a Federal Level fyi). They're not fine with rounding up 20 million undocumented people and putting them in internment camps and deporting them, that would cost so much money that would be better spent giving to them via tax cuts. (I bet you they'll get on board when someone touts the idea of using the undocumented people for unpaid labor)

They're okay with banning abortions or just limiting. They're not okay with stripping all of woman's freedoms (because many of them are women and like to spend the money they have) because women going back into the homes, means the spending power of the economy shrinks.

Less Women and Men of color going to college means less student loan payments. Not to mention, the policies that Trump will enact with Project 2025, would just wreck the economy. Government workers would lose their jobs. Facilities and infrastructure would crumble. The middle class would all but disappear, the gap between the poor and rich would grow, to the point where there is just no more money to extract from anyone in the lower classes. The money would have to come from them.

If trump gets in office by 2028 there will be so many evictions, its impossible to keep up. The rich would have to bribe police officers (made legal by the supreme court btw) to get people evicted. Not all rich people are rich equally. Those who can afford to bribe will be new upper class, those who can't will be suckers.

FDIC will be gone. So imagine you're one of those rich suckers, and the bank you have your money goes belly up cause the new upper class used it to fund their next yacht?

You can't be a tech mogul in a country with poor infrastructure. All that AI requires massive amount of electricity. How can you have any developments if your company shuts off the power every few weeks and there is no policy in place to keep it going, to fix it. Look at texas? Every hurricane gets rid of the power for weeks. Imagine when Project 2025 gets in and there really is no regulation at all.

What is the point of all this? Biden is the correct choice. He is the incumbent, he won the primary, and the election is less than four months away. This talk about replacing him is a bunch of rich assholes trying to take over the democratic party and making it into the new republican party. The literal worst night mare: socially liberal, financially conservative. They are antagonist towards the democrat's base: Black voters, because black voting population support centralized government, regulations, higher taxes, and a robust social safety network (because its literally the best way to govern)

Focus on getting people to vote for Biden or just not vote for Trump.

[shallyouobeyme]

Bounce

Platonic!Yandere!EareserMic/Todoroki/Bakugo!Family x reader (GN) + Platonic!Yandere!LoV x reader (GN)

Summary: Trying to juggle hero class, very protective classmates along with their families which included multiple pro-heroes and your teachers who seemed to be incredibly extra attentive around you was hard enough - but at least they seemed to keep each other in check so that you were able to live on kind of normally, while being bounced around between them. Hopefully, no one comes around and ruins that delicate harmony...

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Yandere, Dark content, kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of planning a murder, violence, swearing (thanks to Bakugo), Obsessive behaviour, I do not condone this, this is all fiction, tell me if I missed something - also this is not proofread so there's probably a lot of mistakes that I'll fix sometimes in the future

Ever since you've started attending U.A., your life has become incredibly exhausting. Now, one would think 'Of course attending the top pro-hero school in the country would be exhausting, what did you expect? A walk in the park? Idiot.', but to this person you'd say that they were right. You hadn't expected U.A. to be easy, you really would have to have been stupid to do so, but the actual school wasn't the problem. Sure, classes were challenging sometimes and the training was working you to the bone some days, but you were able to live with that - after all, you had known that it would be hard when you had signed up for it, but what you hadn't known was that you'd somehow become the pet project for not one, not two, not three, but four pro-heroes, three hero-students and two overprotective suburban moms.

When you had started school, you had expected to kind of merge with the masses. After all, your quirk wasn't really anything flashy, your family didn't include any famous heroes or rich business moguls, and you weren't one to thrive with attention directed at you. Now as someone who joined the school later in the semester for personal reasons, you knew there would be some spotlight on you for a few weeks, but you also thought that there'd already be established friend groups and connections, so once the natural curiosity of a bunch of teens was satiated, you'd be able to just go the rest of your school days in peace and quite on your own. So imagine your surprise when after an entire month of being in class 1-A, the three most popular (and probably most promising) students of the class seemed to be glued to your side, and along with them their respective friends.

Izuku, you learned after a few days, was the kind of person who was probably predetermined to make friends with any new person he met, as he even tried to be friends with the boy who bullied him relentlessly - but with you, he seemed to drive that up a notch. He was interested in literally every word you said, started to have what seemed to be an entire chapter dedicated just to you in his notebook and soon that escalated to what seemed to be an entirely separate book just for information about you. But Izuku was a little weird in the very best way possible, so you didn't mind too much, he was funny and tried to respect your personal space and need for alone time - even though he seemed to think alone time meant that he was just sitting silently beside you while you were allowed to do something you usually would do completely alone, like writing in your diary or calling your parents. Honestly, you were surprised that he let you go on the toilet alone (even though on some days the second you went out to leave for the bathroom, someone from his friend group or he suddenly seemed to need to use the bathroom as well.

Shotou surprised you with how clingy he seemed to be, after all, from what you had heard from people from other classes and from how he seemed the first time you had met him he wasn't really the most sociable person. As far as you knew, he was only part of a friend group because Izuku had latched onto him and had refused to let go until he had become one of his friends by association. So, again, it was quite surprising when he seemed to initiate interactions with you as often as possible, be it insisting that you studied with him, that you joined him while making dinner in the dorms, sitting down beside you during lunch, or just silently sitting in the corner of whatever room you happened to be with and staring. The last one was definitely creeping you out, but after Izuku had told you about all the horrible things that had happened to Shotou (later he would definitely deny any accusations of manipulating you into being more accepting of his friend's stranger behaviours) you felt too bad to confront him about it. Still, Shotou was a lot more up to your speed when it came to how calm and quiet he usually was, so you didn't have all that many complaints about his constant presence, especially since he and Izuku got along great which made hangouts mostly peaceful.

The same decidedly could not be said about Bakugo. Bakugo was a chaotic and destructive force to be reckoned with. He was brash, loud, opinionated and (sometimes) violent - basically, he was everything you usually tried to avoid. Bakugo did not like that - not one bit. He insisted that he was 'the best f**king person in this f**king place to hang out with and he was better than any of these sh**ty extras so you should be happy he even wanted to be your friend, now shut up and let him cook your favourite meal." It was safe to say that spending time with him was usually very stressful for you - at least when Izuku and Shotou were there, which was almost always because he could not hold back on insulting them, screaming that he was the only person who had any right to hang out with you and that he was more than enough to protect you - the question about what they thought you needed protection from was always more or less elegantly deflected. Curiously, it turned out that Bakugo was able to act very differently when it was just the two of you - he was still very brash and slightly aggressive, but he became a lot quieter, and a lot more thoughtful too. When it was just the two of you - for example after he picked you up like a sack of grain when the others were distracted (by his friends usually) and locked the two of you up in his room, he allowed you to quietly read a book or draw or do the things you usually didn't have the calm to do while he studied at his desk, insisting you make yourself comfortable in his bed wearing one of his jumpers.

You figured sooner or later your teachers would figure out what was going on and intervene, but your homeroom teacher especially seemed to go in a different direction. In fact, he seemed to support their friendship with you - telling you that they were the best suited in class to protect you when he wasn't around (again, no explanation as to what you'd need protection from). He insisted that you spent at least one break every few days in class with him so he could 'supervise your progress and help you with especially difficult material', paid a lot more attention to you in class than anyone else, let you get away with forgetting homework or slacking off during training, always pair you up with someone who he'd knew wouldn't let you get hurt and who'd make sure you get a good grade, and you seemingly always got better grades than the students who did just about the exact same thing as you. Honestly, you didn't really have a reason to complain at first, but then the breaks spent with him turned into breaks spent with him and his husband Hizashi (sometimes joined by Shinsou who also seemed to be close to you whenever you left the classroom during breaks, but never really talked that much).

Now the three of them (along with their friends whom the three seemed to colour off on) and your teachers were already hard enough to handle, but they seemed to be happy as long as you spent the same amount of attention on all of them and didn't actively play favourites - even though they always insisted to be the favourite when talking to each other. This delicate alliance was broken though, when Izuku invited you to stay with his mother during an elongated weekend at home - and when he gave you his puppy eyes and let you listen in on a call with his mother where she sounded so incredibly excited at the prospect of her little boy bringing a friend home with him, you just couldn't say no. The weekend was actually very nice, his mother was such a kind woman and she treated you like her own child. Actually, she probably treated you better - she made sure everything was perfect for you, she only made your favourite foods (thanks to Izuku's intel), she made sure your bed was always fluffy, your room was always the ideal temperature, the shower in the guest bedroom always had the right water pressure, and everything the tree of you did was something that you'd enjoy. Sure, she could be a little overbearing, but given that your own family had never really cared about you that much it was really refreshing.

At least it was for the very first time, turns out being cared for 24/7 was a lot less refreshing when there were like a dozen people trying to do it at the same time. Given their rivalry, it was only natural that once Bakugo and Shotou (and Aizawa) found out about your little trip to Izuku's childhood home, they insisted that now you just had to come visit their families as well. And so you started being bounced from one family to the other. Gone were the weekends spent chilling in the dorms and getting to have at least some time to yourself, instead you rotated through four different homes - none of them yours, even though the families in them would vigorously insist that you were the most important 'resident' in it. And so you found yourself in the Bakugo residence, getting pampered by Misuki and Masaru, having your clothing thrown away and replaced by custom-made ones by them, and getting to enjoy being around the (slightly) calmer version of Katsuki.

Or you found yourself in the Todoroki's house, surrounded by his siblings and his parents - his mother seemingly wanting to forget that you were not her child as she treated you like one of her own, even insisting on you letting her or Enji tuck you in no matter how often you tried to tell them that you were actually not a child anymore (not that they wanted to hear that). Enji wasn't home a lot, but he made an attempt to be home as often as he could when he knew you'd be there, causing a vague tension between his family, but no one wanted to say it out loud since you actually enjoyed when he was there (since he not only spoilt you, not shying away from any expense but since he was also the one who was most likely to let you trips with his family - the others preferring to keep you all to themselves inside) and he sometimes brought Hawks along who always made sure you had a fun time since he kind of took on the role of a cool uncle.

The family that was probably most up your lane was the family of your teachers. Aizawa and Yamada cancelled each other's energy out for the most part, so it actually felt like spending time with a normal family, not to mention that their little daughter Eri had really grown on you, insisting that you were her younger sister (you didn't bother to correct her after the first few times, assuming that she was just using the logic a little child would use) and their son Shinsou would usually help you out whenever you needed some alone time by agreeing to play with Eri for half an hour if you agreed that you'd cuddle with him and the family's cats and kittens later - honestly you saw it as a win-win.

With all of these people wanting you to pay attention to them or wanting you to spend time with you all the time, it was no wonder that you were exhausted, but honestly, you were just happy that they got along fine enough to accept the 'schedule' and routine that had arisen from the chaos because you had overheard them talking about just how willing they were to go probably too far to keep you around. Usually, you'd probably gone to the police the moment you first heard Bakugo threaten Shinsou that he'd blow up his cat if one of them ever scratched you or when you heard Hawks and Enji talk about how they'd be able to permanently incapacitate Aizawa and Yamada if they ever needed to, but a) you were never alone, so when would you be able to and b) people tend not to believe that some of the most famous heroes and their children would ever be so obsessed with someone as unassuming as you. So, you just made do with the cards you had dealt to you, just happy about the little bit of free time and privacy you had left.

While you were so preoccupied with keeping these opposing forces at bay that you hadn't noticed some different, unknown, foreboding pairs of eyes on you whenever you were out in public. One Sunday evening in a nice restaurant as you spent the last of your weekend with Midorya, his mother, and All-might who had insisted on joining, to get to know his successor's new best friend and one of his favourite students better, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and when you came out of the stall, you felt a pinch in your neck and everything turned black.

When you woke up in a dingy bar surrounded by people you had seen only when they had tried to attack your school and kill your friends, with the girl you knew liked to stab people having you lie with your head in her lap as she brushed her hands through your hair - your hands were tied behind your back with silk so there was sadly not a lot you could do about it - and the guy who liked to burn everything around him insisting on covering you with enough blankets to keep you warm to make sure you wouldn't get sick while insulting everyone and everything around him. It was safe to say that you knew that should you get out of the League of Villains lair again, you could probably say goodbye to any time spent alone and most likely to any outing where there weren't at least two pro-heroes protecting you.

A/N: Day 9 of my Yandere Writetober, Special thanks to @sol565 for the inspiration for this story, without them, I would probably not have been able to write what turned out to be the longest story on this blog so far and I really enjoyed writing it so lots of love and lots of thanks ❤️❤️❤️ Tomorrow's word is 'Fortune'

[kedreeva]

Went to see "Twisters" tonight and it was thoroughly enjoyable!

Some spoilers below the cut

Okay first of all, I'm extremely excited to say that they don't push a love triangle despite there being a girl MC and two main guys. One of them is an old friend who remains firmly an old friend, with no indication that he has romantic feelings. Like they get to be actual friends!!!!! And the other, while potentially a love interest, had just as much potential to be a friend instead, and in an extremely important (to me) way they do not kiss! I was shocked, actually. I expected them to pull out a "gotta have a kiss to appease the amatonormative folks" but nope! Not even in the little mid credit blurb. He stays the night at her childhood home with her and nothing happens. Like not even an awkward moment of tension, they don't even show them going to bed I don't think.

And I feel this to my bones, she was allowed to be the star. She changed her old friend's mind and gave him a chance to choose doing the right thing and he did it because he cared about her opinion of him and wanted to be who she thought he was. And the other guy found out she had dreams/goals of doing something and instead of taking them or doing it for her, he said what can I do to help you, and she chose to let him help her. It was so softly done!! And this guy, he was a full on attention hound with a YouTube channel and loves showing off and he's taking a press guy into the storms to do a story about how awesome he is at tornado wrangling. But when it comes down to it, he tells the reporter she's the real story AND SHE IS!! The article gets written about her instead!

The beginning was. A lot. You get introduced to the storm hunting group, and then immediately 3 of the 5 get killed and the MC almost does, all because she miscalculated. But you know what? She a) keeps her trauma and b) continues doing meteorology stuff, just from a safer distance. Like it's very clear that tornadoes are still this girl's passion, something she loves with every fiber of her being, but she's also been traumatized by losing her boyfriend and two of her closest friends (not to mention her dream project) and nearly her life, in one go. And even still it is something she literally can't stay away from, she still takes a job involved with them through data analysis, and you can practically feel it killing her at the start. The way she lights up at the mention of studying them more closely like she had wanted to, and that excitement immediately chased out by fear. It was nicely done.

They did a really nice thing with the music as well- PERFECTLY captured that kind of moment where the rest of the world drops away and all you can perceive for a moment or two is this thing you love so much it feels like time stops to let you love it more. Except she's looking at weather. At winds moving or clouds or tornadoes. Which is so cool of them to have done for her. This girl loves one thing and it's fuckin WEATHER.

The "villain" of the story is understated and they really don't waste time going into detail about it, which is great because the MC isn't really interested in finding out more about the real estate mogul capitalizing on the devastation. She just doesn't want her friend working for them anymore. She finds out he is, she draws a line in the sand and tells him he should be doing the right thing not the easy thing, and her friend takes her objection seriously and alters his behavior. And that's all the more they really get into that side of the story. Why waste time on it when there's more tornadoes to show? This movie did what Godzilla: King of Monsters failed to do- showed us the monster as much as possible and actually I do care about the people still because none of their problems were irrelevant, none of them were problems for the sake of having problems.

Anyway this movie was enjoyable to me. If you like weather phenomena, storm chasing, chaos, and actually interesting interpersonal relationships, go have a watch!

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive:

We are treated to a succession of interviews with several different billionaires concerning their plans for the future.

"Humanity's destiny is in the stars," says the cool, young social media entrepreneur. "My new company will build a Mars colony in the next twenty years, and from there? The galaxy. The universe!"

"My next project is to render the human body obsolete," says the rideshare app CEO. "The mind-machine interface is no longer science fiction, it's reality. Soon, we will upload our minds to the cloud and live in virtual reality. Or as I call it, paradise!"

"We have forgotten God, and the traditional family values He has set out for us," says the aging, old-money oil man. "But my political contributions and policy think tanks will bring about an end to this age of sin and decadence!"

"Climate change is far from inevitable," says the real-estate mogul. "With my investments in green energy, we are only a technological breakthrough or two away from ending and reversing global climate change. As far as I'm concerned, the world has already been saved!"

Now we get to see how their plans turn out. A space ship drifts through oblivion and inside, all the lights are off. The social media entrepreneur is in his space suit, his lifeless eyes staring out into the void. It turns out his rocket ship was about as reliable as his electric cars.

Then we see the rideshare CEO. Or rather, his virtual avatar. He sits in the lotus position, meditating before a peaceful, pixelated field of grass. His eyes snap open. And then, he shrieks in agony. Back in the real world, his brain is in a jar, crisscrossed with wires and electrodes, suspended in fluid that is beginning to boil. The lab is on fire. Let's hope they fix this little glitch in the next patch.

The old-money oil man is long dead, of course, but his great-great-grandson lives on. We see him in the crumbling ruins of the Vatican, ritualistically sacrificing a lamb on a great pyre before the shit-smeared remains of the Pope's golden throne to the cheers of his tribe. An orgy breaks out to celebrate the occasion and we see the oil billionaire's progeny swallow a mouthful of the moon priestess' urine. "Thank you, daddy," he says, wiping his mouth. Now that's what I call "family values".

Finally, we see a field of shattered solar panels beneath a red sun, like so many broken windows in the sand in every direction as far as the eye can see. This place is not a place of honor. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here. What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us.

Sometimes, things just don't go the way you planned. When that happens, State Farm Insurance has you covered.

[booksndpoetry]

Chapter One: Meet-Cute

a/n: This was not the fic I was hoping to publish and I don't know what this is (it's a mess). I might make more if you encourage me.

wc: 2.4k words

pairing: art mogul! Hyunjin X writer! Reader

tags: friends to ??, reconciliation, use of cheesy epithets, me trying to write slow burn.

genre: a pinch of angst, fluff

triggers/warnings: Whatever this is, it is not good. Read at your own risk.

m.list

Ten.

No, not Ten from NCT.

Just ten more minutes until you could excuse yourself for the evening and it wouldn’t seem suspicious.

You take in deep breaths and try not to make eye contact with anyone lest they try to make conversation with you. You were deliberately dressed discreetly for the same purpose too. Baggy jeans, vulcanized sneakers, a white shirt with a logo you’ve never bothered to investigate, and a pin on your braided hair. You were sure you looked like you didn’t belong, and you felt it too.

Being a bestselling author has its perks, your editor had told you, her voice tinged with something like awe when your book sales had skyrocketed. You thought it meant that more people would leave you alone to write. Though, to your dismay, it meant events held at ridiculously expensive hotels, with overpriced champagne and people at every corner trying to please you so they got a favour out of you.

It should be pretty obvious in your behaviour that you hate these events. You weren’t even a good actor. Although, knowing your agent, she probably set you up to meet your next best sponsor or another journalist who would try to get an interview with you.

The more you thought, the more you tensed up. Checking your watch for the umpteenth time that evening, you let out a ragged breath. Eight more minutes until your freedom.

Or maybe not, you think when you see Frank, the editor-in-chief for [famous magazine name] making his way towards you. Frank was known to be relentless with his requests and you were cemented about the fact with your experience in his studio.

“Hello Miss, how’ve you been doing since I last saw you?”

You hold your hands behind your back, not fooled by his polite façade.

“Good. How about you Mr. Frank?”

“Good, good.” He nods his head, more to himself than you. “Great weather today, innit?”

The sky was pretty magnificent today. The event was being held on one of the top floors of a famous hotel, and the large glass windows were set perfectly to watch the sky. The sky was a cerulean blue, with streaks of pink and orange, like the trails were smeared by the tiny fingers of a child, bold and [synonym for pretty] in their forms.

“Truly.”

He chuckles again, “Always a person of a few words, Miss ‘Name’. Although, can I hear them?” There it was, the unspoken request. He would once again wear you down trying to convince you to spare some time for an interview and a magazine shoot, and you would have to refuse again. You hated refusing, as much as you had to do it, and you didn’t like people who took no for an answer.

You simply take a step back, as if a physical distance would help you say the words easier.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Frank. I have an impending project and I don’t want to distract myself. Maybe next time.” You offer him a weak smile, trying not to let your grimace show. You were bad at this.

He simply waves you off, expression more sombre than it had been seconds ago, and your heart drops. You had disappointed him. You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Unable to stand being there any longer, you rush past the faceless bodies, feeling the need to go away, to run away somewhere.

You go down the elevator and text your agent.

<<Attendance: done.

You silence the device and pocket it, finally reaching the lobby of the hotel. You swear not to stay in the damn hotel for any second longer, but the universe gives you another reason.

Luckily, it’s in the form of someone familiar. Unluckily, it belonged to your best friend you hadn’t seen in seven years.

Hwang Hyunjin.

You trip in the middle of the lobby.

Hyunjin hadn’t known what to expect that evening. He had been offered an invitation, just like any other month. He was unsure about whether he had to attend the event. After all, he had a business to run. But after one of his clients had finished the meeting early, some deal about an upcoming art exhibition place, he was having second thoughts. But some part of him had insisted on his attendance, as he’d heard that one of his favourite artists would be coming, and that’s how he found himself at the entrance of the skyscraper.

What he absolutely did not expect was to see you, standing right in front of him. Until you tripped, and he couldn’t help his laughter.

You quickly get up and pretend to inspect your shoes for any indication of dust. Damn five-star hotels and their extremely slippery granite floors. For what purpose were they made so smooth and shiny? For one to see their reflection when they faceplanted there?

Hyunjin’s still laughing lightly when he comes near you.

“You okay?” he asks, concerned. You hear his voice, and it is still the same smooth tone, albeit deeper. You missed that voice. But the way he speaks, polite yet guarded, you think that maybe he doesn’t recognize you.

“You haven’t changed one bit. Still tripping down flat surfaces, Miss Writer?”

And he proves your assumption wrong. You frown at how easily he can annoy you with just the sight of his stupid face, handsome or not.

Your lips straighten themselves into a thin line, and he remembers why he’d teased you countless times when you were younger. You were adorable when you attempted to look angry, like a tiger cub trying to sulk. He smiles, eyes taking you in again.

“You haven’t changed either. You laughed at me when I fell!”

That wasn’t true. He had changed, in more ways than one. Time had carved him beautifully, with elegant lines and soft beauty, evident on his face. And he was no longer Hyun, your best friend. He was Hwang Hyunjin, the rising art mogul, and founder of the famous ‘Hwang Designers.’ The man sought after by rich men and women alike.

The laugh he’d been subduing comes out in full force once again at the memory, and he clutches his jacket. For a moment, he’s your Hyunjin again.

You hit him on the shoulder, and he stops laughing.

“I haven’t seen you for seven years and this is how you greet me?”

He sobers up quickly. He knew he had to apologize, sooner or later. He decides to do it now.

“Ice cream?” he asks.

“Butter-scotch and Strawberry?”

“Yes. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Deal.”

When the both of you walk out the set of doors, you don’t look back at the gigantic building and to your surprise, neither does he.

The both of you stumble into his car, a spacious Audi, and he puts the car in reverse. It reminds you of the countless things you’ve missed. Like the first time he learnt how to drive. It saddens you a little, and he notices.

“The nearest dessert place is pretty far. You sure about this?” He wanted to make sure he wasn’t intruding on your schedule.

“I’m sure, Hyun. Now, let’s go.” You punctuate your statement with impatient slaps on the centre console. He chuckles, starting the car.

Once on the road, he thinks back on your words earlier. You had called him Hyun, after such a long time. He’d been called a lot of things, but he thought this epithet was something he wanted to keep being called. It’s a physical entity of your friendship, showing how it is still intact. And he feels like he’s sixteen again, sitting with you on your rooftop, as your shoulders brush. Like nothing has changed.

He drives past trucks and numerous cars, taking turns until the roads are empty.

You roll the windows down, and let the wind flow between your tresses.

The cool air feels heavenly against your burning skin. You close your eyes just as a strong gust of wind blows. You lean against the rails of the windows. It felt like freedom, like being alive at last.

Hyunjin watches you intently, eyes flickering between you and the road. It had been so long since he’d seen you, and he physically could not keep his eyes off you. He still remembers the mole above your left eye, the numerous dimples on your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge. He’s dreamt about it every day you’ve been apart, to be honest, but now was not the time.

Driving through empty highways at night was not how he envisioned his reunion with you, but there you were.

“Do you want to go somewhere in particular?” he asks you, voice soft, in that same tone he used to talk to you.

“Just keep driving, please” you swallow thickly. You didn’t want to return to your reality, not yet.

He nods once, then “Shall I take you somewhere? You’ll like it, I promise. Unless you don’t want to.”

You hesitate, then “Okay. I trust that you won’t get rid of me.”

He rolls his eyes, “Come on, ----- you should know me better than that. I would’ve done it already if I wanted to.”

You huff, “And here I thought you wouldn’t even dream of it.”

He just smirks and shifts the gear, speeding up.

“Slow down, I don’t want to die yet.”

He side-eyes you, “I’m not getting you killed, darling” He slows down anyway.

You feel yourself flushing because of that word. This was new. The Hyunjin you knew always called you silly names, but not this. This was different, mature. The tone of his voice was suddenly deeper.

No, no.

This was Hyunjin you were talking about.

He was your friend years ago, and you have yet to determine what he is to you. You will not be having such thoughts. Shaking your head, you lean back in your seat, when he stops the car. He’s brought you to the spot near the bridge, overlooking the river reflecting the city lights. You get out of the car and he leans against the hood with you, simply watching the scene before you.

It’s beautiful, the vast cityscape, stretching along the length of the river. The flashing lights dance over the waterbody like stars twinkling over the Milky Way. It feels so grandiose. But, you know that despite it looking so enigmatic, it is not so glamorous in reality. And the sudden weight of the expectations of others weighs down on you, all at once.

The distress must have shown on your face, because he stands in front of you, holding your face like he used to do when you were upset.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He’s wiping your face, and you realize you’ve been crying.

“Nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I thought I could, until you went away to another corner of the world, leaving me behind.”

He flinches a little at the words. It’s true, he did leave you behind. It’s time he owns up to it.

“I’m sorry, ----. We were going to be far apart, and you and I were still young. I’m thankful for our friendship, but I thought that we could leave it behind. To revisit it one day, if we wanted to. I didn’t want to burden you with a friendship so pressing with its demands just to keep it alive. I thought I gave you a choice. Nonetheless, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I wanted to, but each year held me back when you’d gone years without speaking to me. But I believed I was still your friend,” he bends down and holds your hand. “I thought we’d survive despite not a single word being exchanged between us. And I know I’m right. But please be upset, I don’t like you being upset with me.”

You hold his hand, fingers curling around his wrist.

“I’m not mad at you, I understand. Maybe not then, but I do now.”

You give him a genuine smile, and his heart soars.

“So now, you’re back to being my best friend, no takebacks. Or I’ll knock you out.”

“Woah, ease up there. It’s been barely five seconds since we’ve made up and you’re already threatening me?”

“Like I said, I’ll knock you out.”

He immediately moves away from you, hands positioned in a poor imitation of some jiujitsu pose you know he has no idea about.

And you laugh, a childish sound coming from your mouth. He sees you, head thrown back and he feels his lips curling upwards.

You stay there for what feels like hours, catching up. He teases you and you threaten him, and he makes you laugh. You forget the ice cream. It feels just like old times.

When it gets darker, Hyunjin drops you off at your home after saving your number, with promises to meet you tomorrow. You wave him off, beaming.

Later, you stumble into bed with a heavy heart, sad that the evening had ended so soon. You know you won’t get any sleep, and yet you try. When you finally feel like you’re dozing off, your phone vibrates with a notification. Cursing whoever decided to message you without your permission (how dare they, when you were just about to fall asleep?) you unlock it to see a message from an unknown number.

>>>See you tomorrow, Miss Writer.

You smile and type something to send him too.

<<<See you tomorrow, Mr. Hwang.

And he’s the one who’s kicking his feet when he receives your message.

Labels: @straykidsland

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration to characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

[court-jobi]

We Have Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Words: 4,661

Rating: Teen/Mature (spicy second half) 18+ to be safe, my lovelies

A/N: the helmet comes off, separation anxiety, comfort comfort comfort, oral (fem receiving), hand-holding spicy times, my love language is Mando'a, Mandalorian partnerships are top tier, Soft!Din Djarin

Summary: Your heart is torn in two, where your past life and the one you're living in now come to a crossroads and you need to make a decision. Temporary as it is, the stakes feel higher than ever. You're asked to take part in an incredibly lucrative job-- one that'll bring home the biggest paycheck of your life-- at the expense of six weeks of your time, and away from your life partner for the first time in a year.

Now that you have a home, something to lose... something to miss.

But if there is one man who can make you feel like the only creature in the galaxy he would drop anything for, who would support you and your brilliant mind, who would encourage you to the edge of Wild Space and back-- it is your riduur, Din Djarin.

And your Mandalorian is top knotch at keeping his promises and pleasures to you; will give them to you in equal measure:

--in the light of day, and in bed if you ask...

Read on AO3

"That was quick. Back already?"

You'd stopped under the repulsor grille of the Razor Crest, shuffled about until he wheeled himself out from the underside of the ramp. The moment he saw your face, he sat to attention on his knees. 

"--Cyar'ika?"

"He offered me the job."

"Thirty-five…" He repeated, stunned, "thousand credits?"

"--A week;" Dead serious. "Thirty-five, a week."

Din swayed a moment, elbows to his knees; presently, reevaluating all his life choices. “I sure got into the wrong business, didn’t I.”

“Not to brag or anything,” you gave a dazzling smirk his way, “but your girl is a badass when it comes to making the big bucks~”

"What kind of freighters are these?"

"Really kriffing big ones." You gave a smirk, "This is an investment that's gonna take boss-man to the next level of bacta distribution."

"Damn right. It has to be."

How could you not become a mogul with twenty of these freighters in your fleet?

"How long do they need a mech there?" Din asked next.

"Corbyn said the initial contract request outlined work for 4 weeks.." you tweaked the timeline, "-maybe a more realistic five, depending on the speed of things. If they have to order more parts than expected, it could add a couple day’s labor in the meantime. That's not too uncommon."

Din's helmet bobbed around amazed- the tone flowing through his helmet to show he was impressed, 

"That's a hell of a job. You handle things like that?"

"I've done it before. You fill 'other duties as assigned' to kill time while deliveries show up. Things that need the human touch, y’know? Not droid repairs or anything. He's probably got plenty of odd projects I can wrap for him in the shipyard. Speeders, junkers, old gunships he likes to restore and lease out."

Comically, Din looked around to the Razor Crest- his own old girl  that could use a 'bit of work'.

"If I'd known you could handle fleet tech," he rose to his feet to join you, "I'd have given you the bigger bunkroom from the start. Experience like yours deserves better perks than just any ride-along mechanic. No wonder he wants to lock you in."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic~" You laughed. "I don’t need fuss. I might be in demand right now, but m'not that impressive."

"You are impressive.” Din pressed, “I'm not shocked at all."

His confidence in you never failed to make you beam… though it carried weight this time around. The biggest paycheck of your life is on the chopping block in front of you.

The Mandalorian wrenched the tool against the base of his palm. All teasing aside, the stakes were setting in; you can tell by where he looks off now. He asked the biggest factor:

"...And the start date?"

"Well:" you bit the bullet with a gnaw of your teeth against your cheek, "end of this week." 

Din nodded. Brief. Accepting.

"Think you'll be ready in that quick of a turnaround?" 

You froze– that assumption was a mega leap. You hadn't even gotten that far.

"He– didn't really give me a chance to ask what I'd need to wrap up; he went to catch someone else before they left the hangar. But good grief, Din," you crossed your arms and furrowed your brows to confusion, "I wouldn't have given him an answer even if he asked– I'd never just do something like this without telling you!"

He seemed to straighten at that. Surprised for some reason, that you would think this way when it was all obvious to you.

You caught yourself– no sense in unpacking that to death. Next question.

"How did you leave things then?"

"Said he'd check back in the morning for my decision either way. He recognized the ship, knows where to find me.." you gestured lightly beside you, the booster you stood beneath. 

The tense proposition buzzed around your head. This job looks on flimsi to be the makings of a good deal, a strong as hellfire tick on your winstreak, and one you wouldn't have blinked at six months ago. 

But you knew what that would require: leaving. Both your Mandalorian and the Child. Your beloved boys that roped you in and made you their family.

It's funny, the last time you took a job like the old days, things went completely wrong from the start and ended before it ever got off the ground:

It was only a short time after you'd met, but sparks had already begun to fly between you and this Mandalorian; you'd worked so perfectly together so far. In tandem, each other's missing piece. And what's more, you found yourself enjoying the company, knowing you didn't have to go it alone anymore. That was so refreshing– and unheard of. Like the oddest pairing of hard to soft, a sun-warmed kitten to cold humanized steel, you were drawn into each other's orbit to thrive better than you might have alone. This was a partnership, truly. And you saw a solo job as a way to contribute, pull your weight. 

So you agreed to one that came your way one day, and called it an easy win- he'd drop you off, pick you up, same time next week. You'd felt a little funny leaving him, even then. In this time together, you knew you’d surely miss his company, but denied yourself any true separation anxiety: it’s not like it was earned. How could it be? You'd just met. 

But you'd parted. Gone your separate ways with a rendezvous plan already in the forefront of your mind as you went to meet your ride– 

–when an explosion along the tram you were set to board sent a crowd hurtling towards you. If you hadn’t said a long goodbye like you did, if you’d stalled just two minutes less… you'd have been on that train. 

It was pronounced a cylinder misalignment, diagnostic fluke or something like that– and not intentional. But you didn’t know that at the time. A sudden burst of fuel setting the entire transport dock ablaze had you shook.

You'd turned tail to run straight back towards where the Mando had left you– only to hear your name being shouted from a clouded receiver, encased in a beskar helmet, somehow rising loud and strong over the swarm of panic-ridden pedestrians… 

He was running to you, too. 

Didn't bother making other arrangements for the job call in all the chaos, after that. But given that little scare, you both decided to just cut the losses and try again next time the opportunity presented itself. Bad luck, eh? Next time, for sure.

…That was eight months ago. You ruled out any solo jobs, and so did he.

If only for a short tenure, the op; and this time wasn't unheard of or impossible.. But not only were you rusty, but the timing was horrible. And long.

Din set his tool down, finally rising to come up to you.

“We can talk it through all you like…" he posed to you, "But you’ll need to listen to your gut in the end. What do you think?"

You looked back wildly. He was leaving this huge decision up to you?? Did he seriously think you'd blindly accept?

"What do I think?" You started defensive, then… stopped. 

Considered, and easing up, you sighed. 

You eyed the split in the exhaust somewhere over Din's head, the one on its last leg. 

"I think... it would be enough to fix her." You scanned the Razor Crest, her makeshift patches along the outer shell of the thruster. "-And then some. I know money isn't everything, but.. It's a shit-ton of money, babe. It's... doable." you laughed nervously, thankful Din finally joined your side as you explained the pros.

Doable was an understatement. This was more than agreeable, at this paygrade. You'd be a dikut to turn down even half that price. 

After he brushed them off a bit, his hands came up to hold your cheeks; visor trained on you, unreadable. But you knew better. He was assessing, looking for the hesitation, the test of any doubts.

"You could stop taking pucks for a while," with a small smile, you caught his wrists in return "Skyborn knows you deserve a break. You can rest up for once..."

He made a little sound, stroking your cheek in a gentle show of thanks. You were considering you both in this, which broke you more to think about going separate ways for a while.

You ran through the logistics, too– the loose ends.

"And– I figured you'd be off to find that Jedi anyway, and I know how you get about worlds I haven't been to before. This would be an easy one. Just your average, smoggy, Corellian garage.You've seen one? Then picture it, filled with bubba Rhodians and Keshiris, and that's the home away from home." You joked gently.

There were plenty of benefits to this arrangement and Din nodded curtly to acknowledge them, but a gentle shake of his head showed he was still pondering some things, unseen..   You really wished you'd told him all this inside, where you could read his reaction better. 

The quiet from him was beginning to make you doubt your good reasoning at all. 

"Please say something?" You begged softly.

Only one thing came to mind- by the way he was likely running through the script of his whenever he thought of you, you had a good idea what he’d say. 

His aliit. His creed. Your safety, above all else.

"This Corbyn... Do you trust him?"

It was a loaded question. Trust was rare for him, yet you earned his. But Din couldn't be responsible for you while in the care of someone else, which clearly had him on edge about all this. He’d surely wanna meet the guy before you shipped out. While that thought seemed parental, you understood it- and would expect no less from the man who valued you like the finest of beskar ingots.

You braved a little smile.

"I do. He's a good guy. Bites off more than he can chew but--- but it's the same setup as I did back when he hired me for the baby stuff,” you squeezed his wrists, “It would be safe.”

A careful thumb came to your temple, brushing the beskar steel adorning you. Pushed your hair back in a stylish fashion, it did– but in reality was your beautiful proposal gift. Then Din traced the skin just below it, raking through your hair. The touch ached.

"I didn't think this would ever happen. Didn’t know he docked this far out for fueling anyway,” you absently studied you Mandalorian’s thick cowl from your spot here at chest level. “I haven't had a way to contact Wid in forever. Hell, I know I used to do this all the time before, but… It's just different now.” you sunk into him. Your gut deflated, sadder the more you spoke. “And if all goes well at the next stop, well… the kiddo will be gone too."

That still made you sick to think about. Your voice was catching and you hated it.

"It's just a lot think about, leaving you right now. I don't know what my gut thinks about it." 

Fortunately, he soothed you like no other: at the first sound of distress, he’d slid a steadying hand down to your waist and pulled you close to accept his touch. His forehead met yours.

"Mhi solus tome, mesh’la, bal dar'tome" He spoke softly. "We vow these words for this exact circumstance." 

It meant so much more to you now: one when together, and apart.

"My kind, we grow up with buirkan. Our carers have no formal roles. They are buir. They both share the load, they both meet the needs of their ad, their tribe. That’s what partnership is; I… I ask what you want to do, because I know no other way.” 

Din caressed down to your chin, taking in your fully torn expression. 

“I trust your judgment here, mesh’la. I leave this one to you; you know this kind of work better than I do. If you're comfortable.. and -only- if you're comfortable, and you -want- to do this, you have my support. Always."

You wanted to break at this trust, crush and crumble at his bouying nature. He was handing you the reins as equals, despite the hushed strain he said the words. He could say all the right things, but by no means did he not feel. You knew it wasn't easy– not even for him.

Up the repaired ramp, you caught sight of the child peeking out from the ship’s open door. He called in that funny little chirp– trying to sing again.

You smiled, despite the lurching feeling in your chest shaking you. "Hi, buddy."

He waved and watched his own steps as he hurried down the ramp.

You met his short arms just a step out of Din's hold, and brought the child up to you. He seemed to know something was wrong, because his ears fell back the moment his settled at your chest level where he'd reached up for your face. You shut your eyes at the touch.

"This won't be a forever goodbye." Din soothed you, “You know that, right?” 

Din must be forgetting how poor the reception on Corellia is.

You chimed back, knowing the truth for yourself. "Gotta prepare myself as if it is, though."

"We don't know what we'll find there." Din set a hand to your low back again, unable to keep from you for too long. "The Jedi may not even be in Calodan. We could be back before you know it; and we'd wait here until your work term is done."

The optimistic thought did sound better and helped you swallow. 

"That's fair. Stranger things have happened."

Your Mandalorian. Sweet, sweet Din. Under the hum of the air reserves cycling outside the ship, he cupped the back of your head and leaned against your temple. 

"I know you're torn. But you don't need to worry about us in this. We’re behind whatever you decide."

The child looked to his buir. He reached a bit to his shoulder strap for Din, so you passed him over. That helmet of his hid a lot– but not tone. He clearly didn't like the thought of this either; having to explain to the kid why you’d be gone by the time he wakes up in the morning in a few days. 

So he treated it like any other trip. 

"How bout it, pal," he spoke with a quirk of the helmet to the Child, "Would you be ok with a solo trip for a while? Just like old times."

The munchkin cooed at this, fingers raking over the notches. He seemed happy, if he understood at all. Good thing he’s young, you thought. A peaceful hope, at the very least.

It gave you a happy comfort– for now.

The real churning would hit you when you gave Corbyn your answer. When he gave you the gameplan for the rest of the team he’s hiring, and when he got to meet your very intimidating Mandalorian husband– who he profusely sucked up to when he observed how protective he seemed of you. 

When that last night came and you tucked in the kiddo and realized you'd be packing up for your first real time away from your Mandalorian: your husband. 

…for the first time in over a year.

The Mandalorian brought you to bed in the most tender, gentlest way he ever had that night. In complete darkness, the way he did before he'd shown his face: where your senses would be sharpened and you'd feel everything he did, and take your time doing it. 

Maybe it was a comfort for himself too, out of an old habit to shield himself while next to bare that you didn't seem to mind. Through little noises: elated, pleasurable, heartfelt, tickled sighs and begs, he always found his way across you.

–But he heard the difference between a gasp and a cry. 

At the second you inhale sharply in a clear watery sniff he stopped giving kisses down your ribcage. Where he'd been massaging you with careful, trigger steady hands tucked under your sweater, Din climbed back onto his knees and shifted up to cradle your face with those same warm palms.

"Hey.. I'm right here. What's wrong?" Din asked gently.

You process by his tone that he'd halted altogether–

Hands clawed for his arms to come back around you,

"Nono no, don't stop!"

He thumbed beside your eyes, meeting wetness.

 "Riduur.."

"I'm fine, jus-- just keep going, please." your snivels did little to convince him you were okay. Desperate for him as always, but not out of pure lust anymore.

Above you -practically blind- the Mandalorian tensed. Worried for your heart above all else. Testing light, brushing fingers along your neck and onto your chest, he strove to feel past your flushed, quivering shield. To soothe your skin, but also check your heart rate.

He avoided the suspicious edge in his chest with a calm, doting voice,

"We have time, cyar'ika."

"No, we don’t!-- I--"

There it was.

A kiss graced your crown to still you, then a longer one over your lips. He leaned his forehead to yours, calming you with strokes through your hair until you gathered your true thoughts. Naturally, he'd wait as long as he needed to let you continue, but he didn't need to wait long to hear your whisper. 

"Tell me again this is a good idea…"

Tell me I need to go through with it, or else I'll talk myself out.

You felt lips trailing lower in soft presses, taking all your piqued attention while they went on the hunt for a sweet spot. Din’s unfiltered voice made you shiver with each bit he’d speak against the column of your neck… down and up again.

He whispered, beyond tenderness and into reverence, 

"This isn't going to be forever.” A kiss to your cheek briefly, “You're going to do a great job and you're coming through for a friend. Won’t just help you, but millions in the galaxy who will benefit from the work you’re doing. This is something big, and you're being rewarded for it. This is a good thing." 

You heard the smile in his voice and thanked Ashla -once again- for the Grace given to you to have a man like this in your arms. 

"You're brilliant, riduur.” Din sang your praises, “You're giving up so much. But I'm really proud of you... This isn't too big for us."

You nodded, getting a grip and gaining a controlling breath.

“It’s not too big for us.”

“That’s right.”

"I'm gonna miss this." You touched his cheek, craving this proximity while you had it. 

He leaned into it and kissed the palm when it slid into reach.

"I'm right here."

He is here, and the words warm you through, sending a heat wave that buzzes around your spine when you let yourself believe it.  He's right here, and he is all yours. Would be, too, even if you were jumps away in the stars. 

You were one when together, and you would be one when apart. 

The latter would be tested soon, but that creed? You'd take both truths with you as your own. 

He's right here. 

And he proved it. 

Din's tongue made a few kitten licks as he kissed your wrist next; then down, and down, until he merged both your fingers and pressed where you joined into the space above your head. His order, to stay there, while his left yours to send sparks down your arm on the underside, to tease. 

"You know," Din's adoring tone dripped with doting interest while he resumed mapping out your body.   "Just like with 'love', there's not really one word to say 'im sorry' among our people."

"You can't– say– just 'sorry'?" Your voice still sounded wet at its edges, but your chest clipped with interest. "What do you say when you kriff up, then?"

Din laughed with a rasp, but answered, 

"Depends how big you kriff up. Something small, that's nothing. You'd let it go. No harm done."

–Then Din's hands made a parallel move behind your knees, pulling and pinning them up with a sudden fierceness. 

Talking about a tangent: he’s talking about apologizing, but for what… He'd done nothing wrong, you thought. But you let him speak; he's enlightening you. Surely to distract, but by chik it's working. 

From where he sat, he was fully between your legs and about to bow over you.

"But when I need forgiveness, true forgiveness–" 

You hummed for his answer.

"Ni ceta," Din kissed your sternum. The lips dragged downward in a slow crawl, then nearly growled from the deepest part of him: " 'I kneel.' "

You gasped when his tongue swiped up your core. Every end of your body sang out its pleasure at the touch– his tasting you while on his knees. The heat made you keen. Your sweater didn't stay on for long once he started. 

You shucked out of the rest of your nightclothes as easily as you could, then let your arms fall lax above your head again. He wasn't checking that you were holding onto anything, but you minded where he last left them. When you ground up, he pressed you down. When you moaned, he copied you- right onto your clit. And when you sighed his name, those expert hands massaged you within every inch of his reach. 

By all means, you should be on your knees for him for as good as he felt, how he was treating you… falling only just short of worshipping you without words. 

Your drop was coming, coming, coming, and you were about to completely fall apart by that tongue of his. You told him so, with a quiver to your voice and hands shooting down to stroke along his head between your thighs. 

"Din– Din, Din honey…"

He purred into you with a few rounding nudges of his head. 

"Yes, m'angel," he whispered in the space between you, between his kisses, "Lemme kneel for you. Lemme send you off right t'night– straight to the stars, cyar'ika."

The telltale sign was your quick breaths and baby whimpers, so Din doubled down and tamped his arms down on your waist– until you came, hard.

You cried out of complete pleasure now, your sobs turning into pitiful begs with a dazed smile that betrayed any tear at the edge of your eyes. You tried to push Din's head away entirely, but he didn't let up until he heard the actual words, 

"Please!! Please, n-no more, baby–"

You minded your volume only for the sake of the kiddo outside the door; you didn't want him thinking you were in pain and taking it on himself to investigate (like last time). 

Released and limber, you panted as your adoring husband simply took a hand to your core and rubbed it slow and steady to quivering calmness. He licked his own lips with a satisfied sigh in cleaning himself up. 

"There she is." Din's praises returned, "There's my happy Love…"

"You're–" you wheezed, "youh-what’dya do wrong… that y’needed forgiveness?..”

He nuzzled into your neck, pleasure and prayers coating each of his kisses: to cover you with his love before you go.

“I’m a selfish man,” Din craved the warmth he found there, “Tempted to devour you where you stood, watching you run through those schematics with your boss today… Had to hold myself back by a rancor’s leash. Can only hope-” he nibbled at your ear, “-that this is enough to atone for this covet’s heart.”

Pride flooded you, invigorating. Filling you even more than his words usually did.

“Well fuck,” you sighed again, “You’re forgiven…" 

Din's hands petted you, while he dropped kisses up your body this time, starting to settle. Before he got too far, you halted his ascent by his shoulders, 

"But… you don't hafta leave your knees yet.."

With a warm smile you know would be there, you could only feel in the dark how Din’s loving laugh came with its teasing caress to bless you. To wish you only good memories, good thoughts, the things he promised to give you in droves. The love you so much deserved and what he was all too passionate to give you as he knelt between your legs filled you completely, the tale of which came through his tender reach: pulling your thighs back to him– one hanging clear up to his shoulder.  

Delicious scratches made by his fingers skirted down that leg. ‘Want’ screamed its way through touch. Touch that you would miss so badly… touch you would crave when you laid down alo-

"Liser ni ceta, ner mesh’la? Cin vehtin, gedet'yu gar se ner riduur ru’kir?”

Din’s words sent you shivering– of course, you had no clue what half of those meant. And he knew that. Cheeky. 

But it worked, you know. It always did pull you from your misery– curiosity for this man and everything about him. 

“You’re tryna kill me with that mouth, aren’t you?” you chuckled. “Take my heart right outta my chest before I can even think?”

Din kissed your ankle while he teased the soft, supple core where you were about to join– the ‘last chance’ moment he always gave you. Encased in darkness, your sign of ‘yes’ in lieu of a nod was a wiggle to ‘get a move on’. 

“Have that already, I think. Just as you have mine,” Din slid home and relished your sigh at the intrusion. His own groan sent his breaths reeling at the new closeness.

“Really not fair I–  (ahhh) can only catch l-like– two words outta that..”

Din ground up into you. He’s not really setting a pace yet– just getting comfortable and giving you time.

“You know me. I prefer to show you what I mean anyway, Angel-Eyes.”

God those pet names… You’ll miss them as if you’re missing a limb. How will you manage..-

“Gotta remind you of what’s waiting for you when you come home to me,” Din broke you from your thoughts, “...N’... have something to remember you by.”

Relaxing around him, your eyes fluttered shut. Home– that sounded heavenly. And if you had more of this– a lifetime of it, even– well that sounded worth it to you. 

And that little comment told you everything: he’s going to miss you, too.

You moaned lightly, reaching for his shoulder to pull him down. So, he released your leg to make room, and gave you a full, searing  kiss once he laid flat. Even if your positions were reversed, he couldn’t meld with you any closer. 

“S’this ok?” he whispered.

You whimpered your ‘yes’– a happy one, now. Full. 

So you didn’t bother asking what that string of Mando’a meant– but gave your best guess.

“Then– f’you’re asking to make it last… so I can’t forget…” you begged with hands locking onto his, “then yes. Please, riduur–”

Heart thundering wildly in your chest, you caved when Din leaned in and started kissing your neck so deeply, and so strongly, that you knew you’d have no trouble remembering him for the next several weeks. 

Surely it would pass quickly- life had a way of doing that. All was going to work out. 

He would be here for you– together and apart.

He only broke off from the dampened skin of your neck to bow into the curve of your shoulder– before throwing his entire self into your loving embrace from the power of his hips. He kneels there, just long enough to hear you:

“Make this last for me.”

[spaceintruderdetector]

Project Mogul (Operation Mogul) / popular science 1948

[eksopolitiikka]

Kirkpatrick, AARO, Project Mogul ja Moore

kirjoittanut Kevin Randle Perjantaina Coast-to-Coast AM:n UFO-päivityksessäni mainitsin artikkelin, jonka on kirjoittanut AARO:n entinen johtaja, tohtori Sean Kirkpatrick, joka oli rustannut jonkinlaisen paasauksen ajastaan AARO:ssa. Hänen artikkelistaan kävi selvästi ilmi, että hän oli avaruusolentojen vierailujen vastustaja. UFO- tai tässä tapauksessa UAP-tutkimuksesta vastaavat henkilöt eivät ole koskaan pitäneet aiheesta ja olivat ennakkoluulottomasti vastaan ajatusta avaruusolentojen vierailusta. […] https://eksopolitiikka.fi/eksopolitiikka/kirkpatrick-aaro-project-mogul-ja-moore/

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #48 – My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

This is the second book by Graham Jones I’ve read, though of the two it’s easily the more famous and the first I actually heard about. I was not at all prepared going into it – this is overall an interesting and engaging read, but it’s hardly what I’d call an easy one. Not do to any failures on the book’s part, really, but it’s not trying to hold your hand and you really have to meet it where it is (the mind of a traumatized teenager with a shit life and a weird obsession as a coping mechanism).

The book is told from the very close perspective of Jade, a high school senior in a tiny mountain town that was slowly decaying in the usual way right up until the moment where a collection of lawyers, real estate develops and tech moguls fell in love with the forest on the far side of the lake and decided to transform it into the perfect new home for them to raise their families. Jade, meanwhile, is living on the ragged edge of the dying town, giving her hair a shitty new dye-job every week and more focused on avoiding her drunk asshole of a father and his friends than graduating highschool. Her true love and object devotion, though, is horror movies – slashers, specifically, Friday the 13th and Halloween and all the other formulaic gore fests of serial killers and punished indiscretions and heroic final girls. And when a pair of European tourists really are mysteriously killed well tresspassing on the lake, and she meets the gorgeous, athletic, impossibly good daughter of a tech billionaire who just has to the final girl, she realizes she must be living through one.

Horror – especially slasher horror - is one of those genres where it’s feels like there are more metacommentaries and deconstructions (for whatever meaning you give the word) than there are examples played straight these days. Even if you did make a beat-for-beat formulaic slasher movie it would probably end up reading as self-parody by default. This book goes as far in the other direction as is physically possible – Jade understands the world nigh-exclusively through the lends of slasher movies, and the narration and her internal monologue is absolutely saturated with references and comparisons to them. Like Scream squared. You will, I expect, find this either charming or utterly intolerable, but you’ll find out quite early in the book; it starts in chapter one and simply doesn’t stop.

Now, I’m not particularly sure the book has much to say about horror – that the slasher genre is intensely formulaic and oddly moralistic isn’t exactly news to anyone who even slightly cares. Instead, it’s used mostly as a characterization tool. The central tension of the book (or, at least, the first 3/4 of it) is honestly whether there’s any reality to the slasher stuff or it’s entirely Jade projecting. Which is a much more tense tension than any amount of violence is likely to be, really – you legitimately don’t know which way it will go!

One consequence of the narrative marinating in horror trivia is that the way it actually presents violence is kind of uncanny. I’m honestly not entirely sure whether it’s intentional, but when Jade has spent the entire book blithely talking and fantasizing about fictional violence and being an utter gore-head about the coming apocalyptic violence she’s so certain is on the horizon, when it actually arrives it all feels a bit oddly unreal. Which is not exactly helped by said apocalyptic violence being incredibly confusing and hard to understand from a limited perspective until the very end when it’s just outright exposited to the reader, in a way that I wasn’t sure wasn’t Jade being Jade until the monster literally walked on water.

The book really lives and dies by what you think of Jade as a character. She is a damaged, messy teenage girl who makes consistently poor choices and responds to people trying to help her by lashing out or running away. She also literally only talks about and relates to other people through Slasher movies. She also spends a large portion of the story convinced the town is going to be massacred and ambivalent about whether it deserves it (to be fair, you will probably agree). This was a genuinely difficult read to continue at several points, and it was entirely down to sympathetic cringe and secondhand embarrassment at her every social interaction. Which to be clear I consider an absolute artistic triumph! But oh it was a struggle to get through.

The book’s approach to race, class and the general experience of being marginalized is more subtle than its take on horror tropes, but at times only barely. Jade is poor, half-Indian, and stuck dealing with a profoundly shitty home life on a few different levels. She is just barely riding the edge of graduating high-school or not, and that only from some very indulgent authority figures, with no particularly bright future to look forward to. It’s not what the book is about or anything, but the book makes absolutely no effort to paint her as a prodigy or destined for great things – and the contrast between Lethe the golden girl daughter of oligarchs is sharply and painfully clearly drawn, in how they are treated, how they go through life, and what sort of lives they seem to be cruising towards.

I am told this is the first book in a trilogy, and I’ve got to admit I have no fucking idea why or what the sequels could possibly be about. I also feel no real impulse to go chasing after them, but I’ll probably get around to it at some point.

[st4rrzynight]

Hey, sincerely asking. What do you think will happen should trump win?

hi! thanks for asking 🙃

shit will get expensive for people who are not millionares because of trumps tax that benefits the wealthy.

also project 2025 as it states at aclu.org

"Project 2025 is a federal policy agenda and blueprint for a radical restructuring of the executive branch authored and published by former Trump administration officials in partnership with The Heritage Foundation, a longstanding conservative think tank that opposes abortion and reproductive rights, LGBTQ rights, immigrants’ rights, and racial equity."

i personally don't want to fear for my right to love a woman, and my rights and my families rights because were mexican. i also want to have rights for my own body for reproduction.

MASS DEPORTATIONS

Targeting immigrant communities through mass deportations and raids, ending birthright citizenship, separating families, and dismantling our nation’s asylum system.

i personally dont want to see my family getting deported, im not sure if my birthright citizenship would also be at risk but id assume so.

What Are Donald Trump’s Connections to Project 2025?

Project 2025 was published by The Heritage Foundation, a longstanding conservative think tank with direct ties to former President Trump’s administration. Though Trump has falsely claimed he is not connected to Project 2025, a recent report from CNN found at least 140 people who worked on Project 2025 previously worked in the Trump administration. The Heritage Foundation President Kevin Roberts also previously worked on President Trump’s transition team in 2016, and has described his organization’s role as “institutionalizing Trumpism.”

he claims to not have anything to do with project 2025 but he is a liar.

ROLLING BACK TRANS RIGHTS

Weaponizing federal law to require states and private actors to discriminate against transgender people by threatening to sue schools that protect the rights of trans students or telling hospitals that they would lose their Medicaid funding if they provide gender-affirming medical care to trans adolescents

why are we going back in time? he literally wants to abolish so many rights that people fought so hard to have

"If Donald Trump wants to make America great again, as his oft-repeated slogan promises, then that leads to the question: When was the last time America was actually great?

Trump has an answer. In an interview with The New York Times published Saturday, the real estate mogul was asked when the country last reached the GOP front-runner's lofty ideal -- as a reporter asked, when do "you think the United States last had the right balance, either in terms of defense footprint or in terms of trade?"

The answer, Trump explained, was during periods of military and industrial expansion at the onset of the 20th century and again in the years after World War II."

the years after world war II?

Truman announced Japan's surrender and the end of World War II. The news spread quickly and celebrations erupted across the United States. On September 2, 1945, formal surrender documents were signed aboard the USS Missouri, designating the day as the official Victory over Japan Day (V-J Day).

world war two ended 1945

In the 1950s-1980s, women often lacked the right to full control over their finances, property ownership, career choices, reproductive decisions, equal pay, protection from workplace discrimination, and were often expected to prioritize domestic duties over professional ambitions, with societal pressure to primarily be wives and mothers, limiting their participation in politics and other public spheres; they also faced restrictions on access to credit and the ability to make legal contracts without their husband's consent in many cases.

Key points about women's limited rights in this period:

Limited employment opportunities:

Many jobs were considered "men's work" and women were often pushed towards traditionally female roles like secretarial work, with lower pay compared to men doing similar jobs.

Husband's legal authority:

Married women often had limited legal rights, with husbands having significant control over their finances and property.

Restrictions on reproductive choices:

Access to contraception and abortion was often limited or heavily regulated, with societal pressure to prioritize motherhood.

Discrimination in credit and loans:

Women often faced difficulty obtaining credit cards or loans without a male co-signer.

Lack of protection from sexual harassment

Legal protections against sexual harassment in the workplace were largely absent.

Limited representation in politics:

Women were significantly underrepresented in political leadership positions.

why would we want to vote for someone who wants to take us back in time to a point where we were restricted of so many things?

thats why i dont want trump to win cause if he said himself he had a part in overturning roe v wade imagine what else he would do with another 4 years of presidency.

(please reblog so this gains more traction so people know that trump is legit not a good candidate or person at all)

[piratesexmachine420]

There are few subreddits that make me want to throttle someone quite like r/UFOs.

We know what happened at Roswell, guys. It was a fucking nuclear weapons test-detecting balloon, part of Project Mogul. They covered it up by calling it a weather balloon (which it kinda was) because Mogul was classified at the time. This has been disclosed for over thirty years now, and you've all either ignored it or failed to notice because you're paranoid incurious shit-for-brains recalcitrant coward scum. Fuck off.