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#what are the signs of transmission problems
expresscareautomn · 6 days
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Wondering how often does transmission fluid need to be replaced? Ask the transmission service experts for advice about transmission fluid.
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rumriverautos · 22 days
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What does transmission service consist of? Ask the certified transmission repair technicians at Rum River Automotive for professional advice.
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heightscarcare · 1 year
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Wondering how often do you get your transmission fluid change? The auto experts at Heights Car Care can let you know if it’s time for a transmission service.
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seat-safety-switch · 5 months
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My neighbour had had one of those roll-away dumpsters on his lawn for awhile. In case you're unfamiliar, people often have a lot of trash generated from home renovation projects. They do not want to drive to the dump constantly to throw this stuff out. Instead, you can call someone who comes and drops a dumpster on your driveway, and then when it's full, you can call them again to get it picked up and taken to the dump. The very icon itself of suburban make-it-someone-else's-problemism.
People get really mad when you throw garbage into a dumpster that you didn't pay for. For instance, the local Tim Hortons has put up threatening signs falsely claiming that they have security cameras pointing at the bins at all times. This might be because I once disposed of an entire Subaru EJ25 engine and slightly dented 4-speed automatic transmission, along with most of its fluid, into their dumpster. If you ask me, this is just whining, because that stuff was all made out of aluminum and shouldn't have counted too far on their weight limit anyway.
And yet, I don't want to drive to the dump. Partially, this is because of the exorbitant dump fees: in an attempt at "greening," or more likely to not have so many dumbasses coming to throw out a single tire, they charge a minimum of thirty bucks to throw out anything under a hundred kilos of crap.
Thirty bucks! I can buy a lot of cool junk for that. And they don't even let you take old bicycles out of the garbage pile for that money to try and recoup your cost. Once, I saw a dirt bike, and they wouldn't let me take it. It became a whole thing, which is the main reason I can't go to the dump anymore: they have my picture posted everywhere. So borrowing my neighbour's dumpster is the next best thing.
Here's the tactic you want to use: watch the bin for a few weeks. Check what days there's a lot of stuff being thrown out. These things naturally ebb and flow. There will be an initial burst of enthusiasm as they rip their kitchen to bits, being replaced with a crushing realization that they have ripped their kitchen to bits. It's during that lull that you throw your shit into the dumpster, and cover it up with construction debris from the previous effort. Demoralized, the homeowner won't look in their bin for at least another week, until they are forced to finish the job or hire someone competent to do so, who will start refilling the bin again.
Or, you can do what I did, which is wait for the truck that picks up the dumpster to show up. While the operator is busy loading it up, you throw your stuff into the bin and drive away as fast as you can. The neighbour can't get mad, because the pickup's already been paid for: you're just extracting some extra value from it. The driver can't chase you, because he has a dumpster full of your old shocks and axles halfway loaded onto his truck. And the cops can't get you for illegal dumping, because it sounds like a whole bunch of paperwork and to be honest they're probably too busy arresting folks who start a fistfight at the dump over a pretty sweet dirt bike.
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stormy-river · 7 months
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Transcripts from the Humanity Hotline 7
As I finished this, I discovered it's been exactly one year since I posted the last Transcript. A lot has happened in that year; I've graduated college :) . I want to thank everyone for the support I've received, and I hope to get back into some of my creative projects and give you guys an opportunity to laugh, and maybe learn something. This one is inspired by a request from @a-romantic-twst from forever ago; I hope it was worth the wait (sorry about that). (It's about periods if anyone's uncomfortable with that and wants to skip this one.)
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Operator: "Hi, my name is Mindy. How may I help you today?"
Caller: "Hello, Mindy, I am very concerned about one of the humans on my ship."
O: "What seems to be the problem?"
C: "Well, I'm the chief medical officer and this particular human has been on the ship for just over two Earth months now. On two separate occasions during that time, she has requested strong painkillers citing 'Shark Week' as the reason. I looked into what 'Shark Week' is, and found an Earth television special about certain aquatic predators, and I'm unsure how that could cause a human physical pain lightyears from Earth?"
O: "Interesting, is there anything else you can tell me about this human during these events?"
C: "Yes, I've also received reports from other crewmembers around these events that this human is not as outgoing as usual, and shows signs of discomfort with facial expressions and changes in appetite, but does not respond well to the standard psychological protocols for team building and social connection."
O: "What about the timing? You said this has happened twice, correct? How much time was between them?"
C: "Yes, I've documented both with dates. The human requested the painkillers twice, 28 days apart. The crew reported signs of distress for a few days following each request, and two times in the day before the first request."
O: "Alright, I believe your human is using the phrase, "Shark Week" as a euphemism for the start of the menstrual cycle, which is often referred to as a 'period'. To put it simply, one of the female reproductive organs sheds its inner lining roughly once an Earth month, lasting anywhere from a few days to a full week."
C: "Similar to how the Rythyani shed and replace their stomach linings?"
O: "Yes, though the uterus has blood vessels that extend into that lining, so shedding also causes bleeding."
C: "Bleeding? How much blood is lost? Why has she not requested bandages or a transfusion?"
O: "For most, a period is not life-threatening. The amount of blood loss does not require a transfusion to replace, or bandages to stop, though iron deficiency may be a concern for some that can be easily remedied through their diet. Ultimately, your human will know her body and how to handle her cycle best. We learn to deal with periods from a relatively young age. You should have received a human anatomy and physiology textbook when the first human joined your crew. Do you have it?"
C: "Yes, though I do admit I have not yet had the time to read it."
O: "That's alright. The chapter on human reproductive systems goes into more detail about the biology of the menstrual cycle than I can tell you. For the time being, make sure your human knows that she can ask for support if needed, and inform your crew that not all humans will be happy all the time, and they don't need to be. Over time, you will gain a better understanding your humans' patterns. Until then, trust them to express their needs, and talk to them if you have specific concerns. I can give general advice, but they will know themselves best."
C: "Thank you for clearing up the confusion, Mindy, I will look into this and update the protocols as necessary. I have no more questions for you at this time."
O: "You are very welcome, please don't hesitate to call again if something else comes up."
End Transmission
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downbadf0rficppl · 9 months
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always been you
Poe Dameron x F!Reader
Summary: Miscommunications happen. Less so when you work in communications, but they happen.
Word Count: 4.8K
Warnings: Slight blood warning, a smidge of angst, and a handful of smut :)
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Home meant different things to different people. To some, it meant green rolling hills and the sound of wild animals running through the forests, some hunting, some hiding. To some, it looked more like the cold cityscapes of somewhere like Corellia or Daiyu - where day could be night and night could be day because the city never slept. More like the planet never slept.
To you, home meant a dark room in the back of the compound on D'Qar, where you sat for hours on end. It meant the whirring of plane engines and the whooshing of blast doors. It meant ration meals and celebrating when there were enough jogan fruits in season to make jogan fruitcake. It meant the constant fear that someone you loved may not come home.
You had grown up on Dantooine, maintaining the old rebel base there with your father - an ex-pilot with the rebellion. He'd taught you all about the world of space flight and you'd decided early on that maybe you preferred the ground. Oh, the irony.
At 19, you moved to Coruscant - under no threat from enemies, the base on Dantooine was not needed. You moved away to find a job that could give a life of comfort. Maybe you just needed some excitement in your life that didn't involve exploding wires or stealing your dad's glasses.
When General Organa started recruiting for the resistance, you were one of the first ones there. You distanced yourself from your father's legacy, not wanting the pressure of being someone's someone to be held over your head.
You settled into the anonymity of comms comfortably, making decent friends with your co-workers.
Days came and went working for the resistance. Soon enough, you'd been for a year, and then 2, and then it had been so long since you'd left Dantooine that you could barely remember what your life was like there.
The cantina was empty when you walked in. To your knowledge, black and blue squadrons were out on a field mission, but no one else was in sight. You walked around the base, looking for any signs of life. Dear Maker, had they all evacuated and forgotten about you.
You walked over to the med wing, hoping to see someone. And you saw, well, everyone. Apparently, half of those on base had come down with food poisoning. Wonderful.
You were called in to speak with General Organa, who assigned you double and triple shifts, considering you were the only one of 6 comms officers who hadn't come down with food poisoning. Wonderful.
You had spent all day, without rest, in comms, checking data logs for gold squadron, assisting in decoding transmission, and helping base mechanics with routine repairs. Essentially a normal day in the office, but six-fold the responsibilities. You went to bed, with your head swimming with responsibilities for the next day - hopefully, someone would be able to help you.
You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring loudly. You groggily headed to the cantina for a cup of Caf before heading back to comms.
You picked some undecoded transmissions, before starting on some reports for General Organa. You barely had enough time to stop for a meal, grabbing the first thing you could see before heading back to comms.
Black and Blue squadron were currently MIA. They had radioed in earlier in the morning saying they were ok without radio connection while there was a shortage of comms officers. Still, it didn't mean you weren't worried about them.
"Black Leader to Base, come in."
You scrambled over to your headset and plugged it into the system, "Alpha 4 to Black Leader, you're a go for Base. What seems to be the problem?"
"We're running low on fuel, any republic supporters in the outer rim?" Poe's voice came through as you tried to lock on to his location.
"Where you are, the chances are slim, Black Leader." You sighed, as his location pops up on the screen. He was so far in the Outer Rim, where so many remained Empire supporters. Even with many ports on neighbouring planets, there were few ways that they could make it out of them safely.
You had an idea. "Black Leader, can you make a single jump."
"Just about."
"I'll send the coordinates, get ready to jump."
While Black and Blue Squadron jumped, you connected another line.
"Hi, dad."
"Hi, sweetheart." Your father's tired voice rang through the headset, "What can I do for you?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, dad-"
"It's ok, sweetheart. What do you need?"
"I have 2 squadrons that need fuel. Any chance you could help?"
"Of course, sweetheart. In fact, I've just seen them enter the atmosphere."
"Thanks, dad. Love you."
"I love you too."
Your dad cut the line to go and help the pilots. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You always felt guilty asking your father for help. He never quite knew how to say no.
You stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, signing off paperwork and compiling mission reports for Captain Dameron and Captain Wexley to sign off on.
In fact, you had worked so late that you heard Black and Blue Squadron's land the next morning. You heard them raucously walk through the halls to the cantina. You sighed. A small break wouldn't do any harm, right?
Wrong. As soon as you got up, a beeping from your headset rang through the room. General Holdo needed some data to do with her mission, so you were back to sifting through mission reports to send her what she needed.
By the time, you had signed off with her, Jak (one of your fellow comms officers) strolled into comms.
He ruffled your hair affectionately, "You're a legend, four."
You had known Jak since your days on Coruscant. You had shared an apartment when you were new to the city and he really showed you the ropes. You probably wouldn't be as trusted by the resistance as you were, had it not been for Jak.
"How are you feeling?" You asked, eyes still trained on the screen.
"I'm fine." He settled down next to you, grabbing a headset, "You, on the other hand, have seen better days. Maker, have you even looked at yourself in the mirror!"
You punched him in the arm, "My name's not Captain I-cannot-survive-without-my-mirrors Dameron." He feigned an injury, falling onto the floor and hollering in pain. The delirium of sleep deprivation was getting you, as you doubled over in fits of giggles, tears streaming down your face.
In fact, you were laughing so hard, you didn't even hear Captain Dameron walk in.
"What's so funny?" He said, walking in and clapping Jak on the back. The two of you looked at each other, and burst into more fits of giggles. "You know what, I'm just not going to ask." Jak handed him the stack of papers that you had left for him to sign off.
Dameron walked out with the sheets, and you stood up to stretch your back. "You should get some food in you," Jak nods towards the Cantina, "I can hold the fort down until you get back."
The cantina is practically empty when you walk in, and you grab a sandwich before heading back to comms. What greets you is a relieving sight. Two of the other comms officers have returned to comms.
"You look rough," Drex said, nursing a healing tonic from med bay. Clearly, they were still suffering the after-effects of the food poisoning.
"So, I've been told," you elbowed Jak in the ribs as he laughed heartily. You sat down and returned to the paperwork you had left behind. A connection came in, which Jak responded to immediately.
After a beat, he beckoned you over, handing you the headset, "It's your favourite. Captain Dameron."
You let out a huff, before putting the headset on. You sat down.
"Alpha 4 for Black Leader, you're a go."
"Well, hello, my new favourite comms officer. How are you on this fine morning?" He said, smugness colouring his tone as he prepared to take off.
"I hope you aren't trying to flirt with me, Poe?" You smirked through your question.
"Oh, I am. I most definitely am." Poe laughed.
"How unfortunate for you." Poe laughed again.
You led him through his routine surveillance trip, making funny quips throughout. Poe responds almost exclusively through chortles and guffaws.
"How come I've never actually spoken to you on base?"
"I don't know, maybe because you've always got one of those pretty girls on your arm?"
"Oh, you're real pretty, Alpha 4, just gotta give me a chance, hun." Poe thought you were pretty.
You laugh again, "In your dreams, Captain."
There was a beat of silence, before Poe piped up, "someone special at home?" You swallow guiltily.
Ever since you first met Poe, you had been head over heels in love with him. Sure he was good-looking, and his reputation in the bedroom preceded him, but beyond that, he was charming, funny, and he cared. About everyone. Not just his superiors, or his friends, but even stupid kids who had no idea what they were doing when they landed on base.
You thought of his face, his beautifully warm brown eyes, his stupidly floppy hair, "Yeah, someone real special. I'm just hoping he'll give me a chance back on base."
"He'd be stupid not to."
"You're just saying that."
"I mean it, 4, he'd have to be blind to not see what a catch you are." You can tell by Poe's tone that he is being genuine.
"Thanks, Poe, you're clear to return to base. See on the other side."
You hear Poe land as you head back to your room. He calls your name as he is walking.
"Hey, 4, wait up!" You wait patiently as he, and BB8, catch up to you. "About this guy."
"Poe, let it go."
"I'm serious, 4. I can help you get that date."
"No, I mean it, Poe. Let it go. You can't help me here." You stare straight into his eyes. Big mistake. You get lost easily, wanting to let the warmth cocoon you into a false safety until the rest of eternity.
You shake yourself back to reality, walking away from him and leaving him confused and annoyed.
Days pass, and you find that Poe has pushed himself further and further away from you. You were still his chosen comms officer, but he avoided you on the base. You felt bad. He'd practically confessed that he thought you were pretty and you'd turned him away, letting him believe that there was someone you were pining after. Even though that person was Poe.
You had tried to talk to Poe before he went on a mission alone to Coruscant, but he walked away, feigning that he was busy. He even deflected your questions in the air, and turned his transmission signal off when he got to Coruscant. You were fuming.
How dare he put himself in danger with no chance of backup?
Realistically, your anger wasn't anger at all. You were worried for Poe. Even if he wasn't your Poe.
You vowed to have that conversation with him when he returned.
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Poe couldn't stop thinking about you. He hadn't since he first spoke to you about 6 months ago. Before that, he just thought you were pretty. But once he realised that, not only were you beautiful, but you were also smart and had a sarcasm to match his, well he was a goner.
When you told him, that there was someone else, he saw red. He wanted to put his first through the fucker's face, but goddammit, he would do anything to help you.
So he offered to help you get that date. It was a mostly harmless offer, and he didn't really expect you to take him up on it, but he put it out there nonetheless.
What he didn't expect was for you to raise your voice and storm away. He was shocked.
He figured he overstepped some undrawn boundary, and he felt guilty. So he tried to give you space, give you distance. He'd give you anything if you even mentioned it once. But, jealousy took over his previously well-intentioned thoughts. If you wanted someone else, fine, you could have them. But Poe couldn't watch you get them.
He didn't want to take the mission on Coruscant. He wasn't a spy, he was a flamboyant and show-off-y pilot. But he didn't want to see you in another man's arms. So he took it.
That was what landed him in his current predicament: tied to a chair in the basement of one Zek Shadej - an ex-smuggler who turned to an arms dealership for the higher paycheck.
Zek slaps Poe. He demands, once again, to know what a pilot for the Resistance is doing at a gala for the low lives of the galaxy. He didn't word it that way but the sentiment still stands. Poe says nothing, just spitting a mixture of blood and saliva at Zek's shoes. Zek curses and heads to the door: "I'm done with him. Dispose of him."
The guards left in the room stalk toward him, blasters unsheathed and ready to fire. Poe uses the pin you gave him to cut through the ropes binding his hands.
It was his fifth birthday on base, he reckoned. With different systems, and different lengths of orbits, it was hard to know for sure, but he knew the rest of Black Squadron were planning his celebration for today. So he remained in bed, lying on top of the sheets, head propped up on his arm.
A gentle knock rang through his room. He'd told the person to come in, and you did. Armed with a giddy smile and a small wrapped package. Poe had no idea where you had found wrapping paper, or why you would buy him a present but here you were.
"Jess said it was your birthday today. Thought I'd give you something neat." You said, approaching him nervously. He swung his legs and sat upright, pulling your arm so you were standing right in front of him. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, taking in your kind face. You and Poe were hardly friends, but how he wished you could be more.
"So, what did you get for me, pretty girl?" Poe rests his callous hardened hands on your hips - he liked the feel of your soft skin under his palms. He also liked how sensitive you were to his touch - your flushed expression and lust-filled gaze confirmed it.
You handed him the small parcel, "I hope you like it."
He takes it from you, pulling you to sit beside him. He opens it with careful hands to find a small pin. A Yavin Parakeet. Poe's favourite bird.
"They used to symbolise freedom. Like you do." You whispered the last part.
Poe had never wanted to kiss you so much.
Poe threw the chair he had been sitting on at one of the guards. He landed on the floor with a loud groan, his blaster skidding to a halt at Poe's feet. It was Poe's lucky day.
He shot the other 2 guards, dashing out of the basement onto the catering floor. He escaped through a back door, a few of the staff giving his bloody face and dishevelled appearance a double look. He sprinted through the streets to a docking station a few miles east. Zek sent a few men after him, but Poe was smart, and he knew Coruscant well. He dodged the men, and fired up his X-wing. He had Leia's intel safely stored in his shirt pocket.
His X-wing was severely damaged - his landing gear compromised and the transmission antenna bent at an awkward angle. He took off precariously - he knew he'd have to stop somewhere to fix the ship and refuel. He remembered the old outpost on Dantooine. Your dad's outpost.
He lightspeed jumped into the sector, breaking through the atmosphere mere seconds later. The landing was rough and he saw your father running towards the ship, blaster raised.
"Come out, slowly and unarmed. Do anything I don't like the look of, and I shoot."
"It's me. It's Poe. I came by a couple of days ago. I promise I mean no harm."
The old man lowered his blaster. He tucked his shoulder under Poe and helped him inside, "Let's get you looked at, son." Despite the pain, Poe smiled. Son. He liked that.
Your father patched Poe up, offering him a nice meal and a shower. While Poe cleaned up, your father called you.
"Hey, dad, what can I do for you?" You respond, your brain still focussed on the transmissions you were decoding.
"I wouldn't call if it wasn't necessary-"
"I know, Dad. What do you need?"
"I got one of your guys," your ears pricked up, "and his ship is damaged. I need to know how to fix it. Think you can help?"
"Yeah, of course. I don't remember sending anyone your way though, think you can tell me who it is?"
Your dad grunts as he climbs up the ladder, radio tucked under his chin, "yeah, it's the pretty boy from a few days ago. The captain. Can't remember his name."
"It's Dameron. Who're you talking to?" Poe comes out wiping his hands on a towel. Despite this man being your father, years in the resistance had warned him against trusting strangers.
"My daughter. She's telling me how to fix your ship."
"4? I wouldn't trust her anywhere near my ship."
"I heard that you know," you laughed. You brought up the specs for the X-wing, "I'll send you a copy of the spec - that's probably more useful than anything I have to say."
Your dad laughed and you sent him the specs.
"Good luck, boys," you ended the transmission.
The rest of the day was spent fixing the ship. Poe and your dad made good small talk - they were both pilots. They had a lot in common. They also both loved you. They had that in common too.
"Go clean up, Poe. I'll make us dinner." Your father said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. Poe smiled. He liked this life.
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Poe was back on base by nightfall the next day. You waited for him as he got checked up on in med, and then you walked with him to his room. The silence was deafening.
You followed him into his room, watched his every movement. He milled about, putting on clean clothes, washing his hands, and combing through his hair. His whole body was still tensed up from the mission - you wanted to stop him, hug him, do something. But you couldn't. He didn't want you near him. He was angry at you, and rightfully so.
"Your dad's nice." You looked up at him. Poe still had his back turned, but his shoulder had relaxed. You wanted to run your fingers down his back. "Peculiar, but nice."
You smiled softly, "He's lonely. Not that fun living on an abandoned base in the middle of nowhere."
Poe sat down on his chair, and you walked towards him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, gently soothing the knots out of his muscles. He leaned his head back, a low moan of satisfaction left his throat. The sound went straight through your body, eliciting shivers.
"Talk to me. Tell me what went wrong," you whispered in his ear, not wanting to break the calmness that swept through the room.
Poe shook his head, bringing you in front of him. He leaned his head against your stomach, hands coming to rest at your hips. You tangled your fingers in his hair, and he grunted in appreciation. You shivered again.
He chuckled, "you like that?" Your face blushed a bright red. Poe laughed again, before leaning to kiss your stomach. He kissed up through the valley in between your breasts, and up your neck. He stayed there for a minute, nipping and suckling at your neck, before making his way to your face.
He was fully standing now, his hands moved to your face, and he gently dotted kisses everywhere. Your cheeks. Your eyes, which had fallen shut at his ministrations. Your forehead, then your chin. He kissed the sides of your lips, and you let out a soft moan, begging for more.
"Greedy, are we?" He asked, his voice much lower than before. You opened your eyes to see a smug grin painted on his face. You didn't care.
You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours. It seems he got the memo because as soon as his lips touched yours, he took over. His tongue slipped into your mouth and stroked yours gently.
He tapped your thigh gently, a signal to jump, and he carried you over to his bed, depositing you on the edge gently, dislodging his lips from yours. He knelt down in front of the bed, pulling your closer to him by your legs.
"Tell me to stop." He looked up at you, his pupils blown wide, as he took your dishevelled appearance in. Like a predator looks at his prey.
"Please don't."
He pulled your boots and cargo pants off, kissing up your legs. The arousal pooled between your legs, and you moan.
"So fucking wet, and I haven't even touched you yet." You whine pathetically, trying to pull Poe closer to where you want him. He just laughs.
"Bet the other guy couldn't do this to you. That's why you need me, ain't that right?" You whine again, "Need me to take care of you, baby girl, ain't that right?"
"Please, Poe."
"Please what, baby girl? What do you need?" Poe whispers, cheekiness glinting in his eyes.
"Please, fuck me, Poe." He smiled.
"As you wish."
He pulled your underwear down your legs and stared enamoured between your trembling things, "Such a pretty fucking pussy."
You threw your head back as he dove face-first into your folds. He kissed your mound lightly, before rubbing soothing circles around your clit. You buck up, the pleasure unlike any you've ever known, and Poe presses a hand onto your abdomen, locking you in place.
"Don't deprive me of my meal, honey," He whispers into your pussy.
He continues his assault, testing the waters of what you did and didn't like. You liked when he went fast, when he went slow, you got impatient. Maybe it was time to teach you some patience. But the low whines and moans were too much for Poe to bear. Soon your thighs were clamped around his head as you let out a loud moan, and you came undone under his touch. He lapped up every last bit of your release as if he'd been left in the deserts of Jakku without any water for years. And the moans. Oh Maker, his moans. You thought it impossible for a man to enjoy himself that much. But from the way he gripped your thighs, and pulled his body in further, you could tell he never wanted to pull away.
You laid limp on the bed as Poe stood up, and peeled his clothes off his body. You stared shamelessly. It wasn't the first time you'd seen Poe shirtless, but you'd barred yourself from staring then. Now it was allowed.
He smiled at your shameless ogling, and grabbed your hand, pulling you to stand up, pressed against him. You could feel his still-clothed cock, pushing into your abdomen, and you could feel it throbbing at the contact. You sunk down onto your knees, hands fiddling with his zipper.
He pulled you away and shook his head. "Not now."
He pushes you back onto the bed and crawls over you, his lips reconnecting to yours. He had unzipped his pants and kicked off his boots, leaving a pile on the floor.
"Tell me if it hurts." Poe kisses under your jaw before pushing inside.
Holy Maker, he's big.
His cock stretches you out deliciously. He pushes into you until he's settled within you and waits for you to adjust. The initial pain fades into pleasure and soon you're begging for him to move.
"You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. Bet you wouldn't beg for anyone else." Nevertheless, he moves.
He starts slow, getting used to feeling you around him. You want more.
"Please, Poe. Faster. Please, please, please." You beg him, screams ripping through your throat.
He picks up the pace, relentless now. Fast and hard. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, mixed together with both your moans. You feel the pressure building up and your moans get louder. Poe chased his own release as you got closer and closer to the edge.
"Poe, I'm gonna... gonna come. Please, Poe..." Poe slowed down a fraction, pulling you further from the edge. You whined pathetically.
"Tell me you're mine. Only mine." You smiled through your lust-induced haze.
"Only yours, Poe. Always yours." He picked up the pace again, and the coil begins to tighten. Poe's moans push you over the edge, and you cum hard. So hard that your whole body feels electrified, your toes curling in pleasure. Poe fucks you through your high, turning your entire body to jelly. He pulls out and shoots his ropes over your body.
You smile. You lift a finger up to your chest and lick Poe's cum off your chest, moaning at the taste. The filth of the act clearly affected Poe, as his eyes closed in pleasure. He moaned lowly, grabbing your hands and pressing kisses to them. You closed your eyes, falling back onto the bed.
Poe disappeared into the refresher, grabbing a clean towel and dampening it, before returning to clean you up. You looked confused. No one had ever done that for you before. He wiped your chest and between your thighs, before carrying you to the bathroom. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes in Poe's refresher, before heading back out.
Poe was gone.
You were confused, given that he had changed his sheets and left you a spare t-shirt and pair of boxers to change into. You sat down on the edge of his bed, stretching your legs, a pleasant ache settling between them. Where the hell could he have gone?
A few seconds late, someone knocked, "Are you decent?" Poe.
"Yeah, come in." You stood up, shuffling your feet. Poe walked in, shirt almost completely undone, carrying 2 bottles of water from the cantina. Your heart almost burst.
He opened one of the bottles handing it to you, before leading you back to bed. You took a few sips, the coldness soothing your throat that was raw from screaming.
He laid back on his bed and beckoned your closer to him. You curled into his arms and reached up to fiddle with his hair. You both sat in silent reverie - taking in each other's company.
"Will I see you again?" Poe broke the silence timidly, running a knuckle over your cheek.
"You see me every day, Poe," You tease him gently, "You see me in the corridors, and in the cantina, and sometimes even after you get back from a mission." Poe slapped your ass, causing you to burst into laughter. He pulls you closer to his body.
"I mean it. Is this just a one-time thing? Given your - um - crush on the other guy?" You stay silent, "Is he a pilot? Is that why you're not telling me?" You nod your head, trying to hide your smile. You felt bad for not telling him, but it was funny.
"He's a pilot. But that's not why I'm not telling you." Poe frowns, creases appearing between his eyebrows.
"Is he a superior officer? Does he live on base?"
You decide to keep teasing him, "Yeah, he's a Captain." You look into Poe's eyes. "He's definitely my favourite person on base." Poe's frown turns into a scowl.
"He has the most beautiful brown eyes and the most amazing hair that I always want to run my fingers through," You tangle your hair in his, pulling it just the way he likes. "He's cocky, and he's so sexy. And he knows that he's sexy too." Poe tries pushing you away, rolling from his side to his back, but you just cling to him tighter. You place a kiss on his jaw and then on his ear.
"Why are you here, then? In my bed? In my clothes?" He says, jealousy and annoyance evident in his voice. You feel bad.
"You wanna know his name?"
"Not really. Then I'd know who I wanna punch, but I still wouldn't be able to do it."
"I don't really think it's possible to punch yourself." Poe turns to face you, the jealousy in his eyes fading into hope.
"What?" You just smile. "You love me?"
"I didn't lie, Poe. I'm yours. Always yours." He kisses you, hard, not giving you any space to breathe.
"You're not just saying that," He breathes, pulling away just enough to speak. You reconnect your lips to his, and he pulls you on top of him, your thighs around his torso. You look deep into his eyes, his pupils so dilated as if he couldn't get enough of you.
"It's always been you."
fin.
buy me a coffee
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transmutationisms · 7 months
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Feel free not to answer this ask so you dont have to step into this particular hornet's nest but do you have any thoughts about people sharing inaccurate science about COVID in order to push for more COVID regulations? I agree that COVID is being neglected and we need better policies but I'm also a biochemist so it pisses me off to see people cite research in a way that makes exaggerated and terrifying claims. Two years ago, I was warning my colleagues against this condescending "just trust the science" approach but now the same crowd pushing that has shifted to pushing "don't trust any of the positive science, only my catastrophic interpretations of it". Can't we mask without also trying to convince each other that COVID is a guaranteed one way ticket to death and permanent disability?
you must be new here haha i swing bats at this hornet's nest like once a month. yeah i think the current state of covid communication sucks a lot. i mean the truth is that "follow the science" is always a disingenuous sentiment; Science doesn't speak, and scientists disagree with one another. and it's naïve to pretend majority consensus is a reliable mechanism to identify truth—anyone who has followed the covid aerosolisation about-face will recall that although linsey marr was not the first researcher to challenge medical orthodoxy on airborne disease transmission, even well into the covid pandemic the idea of aerosol transmission was marginalised by global health authorities because it was politically inconvenient, out of favour with powerful established academics, and reminiscent to some of pre-pasteurian miasma theories of disease. those who would "follow the science" were not presented with a convenient dichotomy between reasonable evidence-backed expert consensus and fringe peddlers of heterodoxy; to evaluate these positions required actually, yknow, reading and evaluating the arguments and evidence from multiple competing positions, and deciding which had the greater explanatory power. which is good epistemological advice only insofar as it's so obvious as to be trite.
fundamentally a huge driving force of this situation is the social, political, and institutional forces that make expert knowledge (a generally good thing) all too often synonymous with inaccessible knowledge. i don't mean inaccessibility caused by knowledge being specialised; obviously this is inevitable to some extent simply as a result of the fact that no one person will grasp the entirety of human knowledge. but the fact that knowledge is specialised, specific, highly technical, and so forth doesn't automatically mean, for example, that it has to be monetarily gatekept from all but a select few with the resources to persevere through a highly punishing, nepotistic, hegemonic university system; this is a political problem, and one that additionally has the effect of enabling and sheltering low-quality work (see: replication crisis) behind the opaque walls of university bureaucracy and the imprimateur of the credentials it grants. in lieu of an ability to actually engage with, read, or challenge much of the academic research being generated on any given topic, the lay public is supposed to rely on signs of reliability like possession of a degree, or institutional reputation. what we in fact see again and again, and with particularly high stakes in the case of something like a pandemic, is that these measures are instruments of class stratification and professional jockeying that don't inherently ensure quality information: MDs can and do peddle anti-vaxx lies and covid / long-covid denialism; the CDC and WHO can and do perpetrate bad and outdated scientific advice, like that masks are unnecessary and isolation periods can be shortened for convenience. many of these are just blatant cases of kowtowing to political pressure, which arises from the capitalist logic that counterposes disease prevention to economic growth.
this all leaves us in a position where it is, in fact, smart and correct to evaluate the information coming from 'official' and credentialled sources with scepticism. the problem is that in its place, we get information coming out of the same capitalist state-sponsored scientific institutions, and the same colonialist universities; the idea that some chucklefuck on twitter is telling you the secret truth just because they correctly identified that the government sucks is plainly absurd. where covid specifically is concerned, the liberalism of academic and scientific institutions is on display in numerous ways, including the idealist assumption, which many 'covid communicators' make, that public health policy is primarily a matter of swaying public opinion, and therefore that it is always morally imperative to form and propagate the most alarmist possible interpretation of any study or empirical observation. this is not an attitude that encourages thoughtful or measured evaluation of The Science (eg, study methodology), nor is it one that actually produces the kind of political change that would be required to protect the populace writ large from what is, indeed, a dangerous and still rampant virus. instead, this form of communication mostly winds up generating social media Engagement and screenshots of headlines of summaries of studies.
meanwhile, actual public health policy (which is by and large determined at the mercy of capitalist state interests, and which by and large shapes public opinion of what mitigation measures are 'reasonable', despite the CDC repeatedly pretending this works the other way round), remains on its trajectory toward lax, open exposure of anyone and everyone to each new strain of covid, perpetuating a society that is profoundly hostile to disabled people and careless with everyone's life and health. this fucking sucks. it sucked that we have treated the flu like this for years, and it sucks that we are now doing it with a virus that we are still relatively immunologically naïve to, and that produces, statistically, even more death and disability than the flu. and it sucks that the predominating explanations of this state of affairs from the 'cautious' emphasise not the structural forces that shape knowledge production under capitalism, but instead invoke a psychological narrative whereby individuals simply need to be sufficiently terrified into producing mass action.
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dahlingplease · 2 months
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GET ART BY ENCOURAGING THE FDA TO GREENLIGHT EFFECTIVE VACCINES
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[image: A tweet from we_are_ssd reading "Please email all weekend and call on Monday. Tell them we want Novavax approval ASAP. Call and tell them to pass along your message. 1-800-835-4709 Email everyone here:
[email protected]" end image description.]
Hey, with kids in school the new COVID vaccine needs to come *now*. NovaVax, as seen in the linked study helps reduce transmission by stopping virus replication in the nose and mouth (upper respiratory systems).
https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciimmunol.adg7015#:~:text=In%20addition%2C%20both%20Novavax%20vaccines,activities%20of%20the%20serum%20antibody
I'll be doing doodles to encourage people to mail and call, just please prove yourself with email screenshots and call logs if you can. Other artists, I encourage you to incentivize in the same way.
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[images: pencil drawings
Image one: two young women standing next to each other, each wearing collared shirts. Above them they are labled "you" "me" and below them are the words "and our collared shirts"
Image two: A young man pats his younger self on the head and quips "wow what's this guy's problem?" The younger self sneers and mutters "ugh don't touch me." End image description]
Remember to block out personal information when sending proof. Everyone stay well!
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Also preserved on our archive
By Hayley Gleeson
There wasn't a dramatic "lightning bolt" moment when Colin Kinner realised he needed to roll up his sleeves and start tackling what he'd come to see as a pernicious problem: the largely unchecked spread of SARS-CoV-2 in Australian schools.
What spurred him to act, in the end, was the growing pile of evidence that COVID was a serious health threat, and his concern that school communities seemed to be shrugging their shoulders at it.
He was tired of hearing about schools allowing teachers to come to work while COVID positive. Of sick children being permitted to stay in class and infecting others. Of schools asking parents not to tell them if their child had COVID, but routinely sending home letters about head lice or chickenpox. Of teachers and kids catching the virus and not recovering.
"As a parent, I want my son to be safe at school, so that was a key part of my motivation to do this," says Mr Kinner, the Brisbane creator of COVID Safety for Schools, a free online course that aims to correct misinformation and teach school staff and parents how to reduce the risk of the virus spreading. "But also, having spoken to lots of other parents and teachers, it's clear that most schools are lacking an understanding of some of the absolute basics of COVID. And in the fifth year of the pandemic, I find that very troubling."
Every week in Australia too many students and teachers are catching COVID at school, Mr Kinner says, resulting in disrupted learning, teacher shortages, increased transmission in the broader community and disabling chronic illnesses like long COVID. It's hardly surprising: a packed classroom can be the perfect place for an airborne virus to thrive, with one US study finding more than 70 per cent of COVID transmission in homes began with an infected school-age child.
Schools aren't necessarily at fault: in most states they've been starved of good public health guidance, Mr Kinner says — they've been told "they can treat it like any other respiratory illness, so that's exactly what they're doing".
Step one: correct misinformation A science and technology communicator and startup mentor, Mr Kinner's solution was to assemble a team — some of Australia's leading experts in public health, medicine and engineering — who could explain in simple video tutorials the health risks of COVID, the science of how it spreads, and strategies schools can use to keep staff and students well. The ultimate goal of COVID Safety for Schools, he says, is to change minds and behaviour and, since it launched in February, 600 participants have signed up, about half parents and half teachers.
But perhaps its greatest challenge is engaging people in the first place, particularly those who believe COVID is harmless or no longer worth taking precautions against.
For the past couple of years Australians have been encouraged to keep calm and carry on as if the virus is in the rear view mirror, even as it continues sickening and killing people, albeit in smaller numbers than years gone by. News reports often downplay its severity, if they cover it at all, while political leaders, public health officials and doctors have claimed it is no cause for concern, especially in children, and that catching it is not just inevitable, but necessary.
But mounting evidence shows the opposite. Even in vaccinated people and those who suffer "mild" infections, COVID can trigger a range of health problems including cardiovascular disease, diabetes, neurological conditions and immune dysfunction. Then there's long COVID, a debilitating multi-organ illness that has upended the lives of hundreds of millions of children and adults worldwide, many of whom do not fully recover.
"COVID is like an accelerator for all the other diseases that we hate — it's actually an aging accelerant as well," Professor Jeremy Nicholson explains in one of the course videos. "And we don't want that for our kids or anybody else."
Simple steps can stop COVID spreading Once apprised of the health risks, course participants are taught about evidence-based tools schools can use to reduce viral transmission. These are not outlandish or burdensome interventions, but common sense steps like encouraging teachers and students to stay home if they're sick; improving indoor air quality with ventilation and filtration — with air conditioning systems, air purifiers and good old-fashioned open windows; and promoting mask wearing particularly in high-risk settings like crowded indoor gatherings or bus trips.
Of course, some education departments already require schools to take similar measures. In Victoria, for instance, all public schools must "maximise" external ventilation, ensure air purifiers are used, encourage good personal hygiene and make face masks available for those who want to wear them. But that doesn't mean schools actually follow the guidelines or use the tools at their disposal (in 2021 the government delivered tens of thousands of air purifiers to schools across the state, but many are no longer used and some have since been listed for sale on Facebook Marketplace).
The federal president of the Australian Education Union, Correna Haythorpe, says any initiative that educates people about COVID and what schools can do to prevent infections is "welcome". Teachers who have to take sick leave because they've caught COVID or developed long COVID are an additional burden on schools, many of which are struggling with the "chronic" national teacher shortage, she says. Then there's the disruption to learning: "A contagious disease can very quickly … take out significant numbers of students. And fundamentally, we want kids to be engaged, we want them to be well, we want them to be learning."
Improving the situation, though, requires stronger leadership from education departments, Ms Haythorpe says. "Current government approaches to limiting COVID infection, repeat infection and long COVID demonstrates a lack of concern for the health and wellbeing of students, teachers and broader school communities," the AEU wrote in its submission to Australia's parliamentary inquiry into long COVID. Mitigation measures in many public schools are not adequate, it said, "and a lack of capital investment … since 2017 means that conditions are often cramped with inadequate air flow".
'Long COVID basically ended my career' For Amanda Sharpe, these problems are personal. Before she developed long COVID after catching the virus from her children in 2022, Ms Sharpe taught advanced maths at a high school in Bundaberg, Queensland. She used to spend full days on her feet, relishing the buzz of helping her students solve complex equations, preparing them for careers in fields like medicine and aerospace engineering.
Now, just sitting upright for a short spell or reading a simple news story can quickly worsen her symptoms and wipe her out for days. "Long COVID basically ended my career and I doubt that I'll ever be able to return," she says. "Unless there is an actual cure, I think that will be it for me."
It's bewildering that schools aren't taking stronger action to protect their staff and students from COVID, says Ms Sharpe, who tells her story in the COVID Safety for Schools course. A major issue is that many people still think of COVID as a respiratory illness, she says — they don't realise it can also attack the vascular system, damaging blood vessels and increasing the risk of clotting abnormalities, stroke and heart disease.
She also wishes more people knew that the virus can cause brain changes and cognitive impairment: one study, for instance, found people who recovered from "mild" COVID infections had lost the equivalent of three IQ points.
"With the maths I teach, you really can't afford to have your IQ drop," Ms Sharpe says. "I just don't understand why schools aren't implementing simple measures like improving indoor air quality — especially private schools, where academic results link directly with enrolments and success."
In response to previous disease outbreaks like Spanish flu and tuberculosis, schools moved lessons outdoors — sometimes in freezing winter temperatures — to stop children from getting sick, she says. "But we don't want to have classroom windows open in Queensland? It just seems insane to me."
What about WHS laws? It may also be unlawful. Australians may have been led to believe that public health orders in force until 2022 were the key reason employers, including schools, had to take steps to protect staff from COVID, says Michael Tooma, a partner at the law firm Hamilton Locke. But schools have always had to comply with workplace health and safety laws — "there has always been a duty of care", he says. "COVID presents a risk to health and safety and, like any other risk, it needs to be managed with proactive policies and procedures that try to eliminate the risk or reduce it as far as reasonably practicable."
At the very least, Mr Tooma says, schools should be excluding people with COVID from the workplace, improving ventilation in classrooms and auditoriums and maintaining sensible cleaning and hygiene regimes.
Schools that fail to meet their WHS legal obligations may be reported to and investigated by state regulators, which can issue improvement notices and in some cases bring prosecutions for serious breaches of the relevant legislation.
Still, Mr Tooma says he's not aware of any schools being prosecuted for COVID-related breaches and in general, regulators tend to focus on industries that have higher risks of serious physical harm and death, as well as "campaign" issues like mental health. "Regulator activity tends to follow public interest and so as public interest in COVID and COVID safety has waned, so has regulatory activity around it, in my experience."
Mr Kinner suspects it's probably going to take successful litigation for schools to start taking COVID more seriously. He points to a UK case in which 120 teachers with long COVID are suing the Department of Education for allegedly failing to protect them at the height of the pandemic. Those involved say they were not given good enough guidance for managing the risks the virus posed, with data showing teachers suffered high rates of infection and long COVID.
"I think it's only a matter of time before we see similar legal action in Australia," Mr Kinner says. "It could be from teachers, it could be from families who caught COVID because it came into their household via the school. I think it's inevitable."
In the meantime, he will keep trying to get COVID Safety for Schools in front of as many teachers, parents and principals as he can — even if it takes a while, even if they don't want to hear its message.
"I've been very surprised at how school leaders don't act when they're presented with this information, even people who go through the course and understand — or should understand — that this is a virus we should be taking very seriously," Mr Kinner says. "Because facts remain facts. Even if you don't like them, even if they make you feel uncomfortable, they're still facts."
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 2 years
Text
Always been you.
Poe Dameron x AFAB!Reader
Summary: Miscommunications happen. Less so when you work in communications, but they happen.
Word Count: 4.8K
Warnings: Slight blood warning, a smidge of angst, and a handful of smut :)
AN: This one's been sat in the drafts for a while. I can't lie, the whole time I was writing this I was thinking about popcorn - so imma go get myself some. Enjoy! (P.S. requests are open!!)
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Home meant different things to different people. To some, it meant green rolling hills and the sound of wild animals running through the forests, some hunting, some hiding. To some, it looked more like the cold cityscapes of somewhere like Corellia or Daiyu - where day could be night and night could be day because the city never slept. More like the planet never slept.
To you, home meant a dark room in the back of the compound on D'Qar, where you sat for hours on end. It meant the whirring of plane engines and the whooshing of blast doors. It meant ration meals and celebrating when there were enough jogan fruits in season to make jogan fruitcake. It meant the constant fear that someone you loved may not come home.
You had grown up on Dantooine, maintaining the old rebel base there with your father - an ex-pilot with the rebellion. He'd taught you all about the world of space flight and you'd decided early on that maybe you preferred the ground. Oh, the irony.
At 19, you moved to Coruscant - under no threat from enemies, the base on Dantooine was not needed. You moved away to find a job that could give a life of comfort. Maybe you just needed some excitement in your life that didn't involve exploding wires or stealing your dad's glasses.
When General Organa started recruiting for the resistance, you were one of the first ones there. You distanced yourself from your father's legacy, not wanting the pressure of being someone's someone to be held over your head.
You settled into the anonymity of comms comfortably, making decent friends with your co-workers.
Days came and went working for the resistance. Soon enough, you'd been for a year, and then 2, and then it had been so long since you'd left Dantooine that you could barely remember what your life was like there.
The cantina was empty when you walked in. To your knowledge, black and blue squadrons were out on a field mission, but no one else was in sight. You walked around the base, looking for any signs of life. Dear Maker, had they all evacuated and forgotten about you.
You walked over to the med wing, hoping to see someone. And you saw, well, everyone. Apparently, half of those on base had come down with food poisoning. Wonderful.
You were called in to speak with General Organa, who assigned you double and triple shifts, considering you were the only one of 6 comms officers who hadn't come down with food poisoning. Wonderful.
You had spent all day, without rest, in comms, checking data logs for gold squadron, assisting in decoding transmission, and helping base mechanics with routine repairs. Essentially a normal day in the office, but six-fold the responsibilities. You went to bed, with your head swimming with responsibilities for the next day - hopefully, someone would be able to help you.
You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring loudly. You groggily headed to the cantina for a cup of Caf before heading back to comms.
You picked some undecoded transmissions, before starting on some reports for General Organa. You barely had enough time to stop for a meal, grabbing the first thing you could see before heading back to comms.
Black and Blue squadron were currently MIA. They had radioed in earlier in the morning saying they were ok without radio connection while there was a shortage of comms officers. Still, it didn't mean you weren't worried about them.
"Black Leader to Base, come in."
You scrambled over to your headset and plugged it into the system, "Alpha 4 to Black Leader, you're a go for Base. What seems to be the problem?"
"We're running low on fuel, any republic supporters in the outer rim?" Poe's voice came through as you tried to lock on to his location.
"Where you are, the chances are slim, Black Leader." You sighed, as his location pops up on the screen. He was so far in the Outer Rim, where so many remained Empire supporters. Even with many ports on neighbouring planets, there were few ways that they could make it out of them safely.
You had an idea. "Black Leader, can you make a single jump."
"Just about."
"I'll send the coordinates, get ready to jump."
While Black and Blue Squadron jumped, you connected another line.
"Hi, dad."
"Hi, sweetheart." Your father's tired voice rang through the headset, "What can I do for you?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, dad-"
"It's ok, sweetheart. What do you need?"
"I have 2 squadrons that need fuel. Any chance you could help?"
"Of course, sweetheart. In fact, I've just seen them enter the atmosphere."
"Thanks, dad. Love you."
"I love you too."
Your dad cut the line to go and help the pilots. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You always felt guilty asking your father for help. He never quite knew how to say no.
You stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, signing off paperwork and compiling mission reports for Captain Dameron and Captain Wexley to sign off on.
In fact, you had worked so late that you heard Black and Blue Squadron's land the next morning. You heard them raucously walk through the halls to the cantina. You sighed. A small break wouldn't do any harm, right?
Wrong. As soon as you got up, a beeping from your headset rang through the room. General Holdo needed some data to do with her mission, so you were back to sifting through mission reports to send her what she needed.
By the time, you had signed off with her, Jak (one of your fellow comms officers) strolled into comms.
He ruffled your hair affectionately, "You're a legend, four."
You had known Jak since your days on Coruscant. You had shared an apartment when you were new to the city and he really showed you the ropes. You probably wouldn't be as trusted by the resistance as you were, had it not been for Jak.
"How are you feeling?" You asked, eyes still trained on the screen.
"I'm fine." He settled down next to you, grabbing a headset, "You, on the other hand, have seen better days. Maker, have you even looked at yourself in the mirror!"
You punched him in the arm, "My name's not Captain I-cannot-survive-without-my-mirrors Dameron." He feigned an injury, falling onto the floor and hollering in pain. The delirium of sleep deprivation was getting you, as you doubled over in fits of giggles, tears streaming down your face.
In fact, you were laughing so hard, you didn't even hear Captain Dameron walk in.
"What's so funny?" He said, walking in and clapping Jak on the back. The two of you looked at each other, and burst into more fits of giggles. "You know what, I'm just not going to ask." Jak handed him the stack of papers that you had left for him to sign off.
Dameron walked out with the sheets, and you stood up to stretch your back. "You should get some food in you," Jak nods towards the Cantina, "I can hold the fort down until you get back."
The cantina is practically empty when you walk in, and you grab a sandwich before heading back to comms. What greets you is a relieving sight. Two of the other comms officers have returned to comms.
"You look rough," Drex said, nursing a healing tonic from med bay. Clearly, they were still suffering the after-effects of the food poisoning.
"So, I've been told," you elbowed Jak in the ribs as he laughed heartily. You sat down and returned to the paperwork you had left behind. A connection came in, which Jak responded to immediately.
After a beat, he beckoned you over, handing you the headset, "It's your favourite. Captain Dameron."
You let out a huff, before putting the headset on. You sat down.
"Alpha 4 for Black Leader, you're a go."
"Well, hello, my new favourite comms officer. How are you on this fine morning?" He said, smugness colouring his tone as he prepared to take off.
"I hope you aren't trying to flirt with me, Poe?" You smirked through your question.
"Oh, I am. I most definitely am." Poe laughed.
"How unfortunate for you." Poe laughed again.
You led him through his routine surveillance trip, making funny quips throughout. Poe responds almost exclusively through chortles and guffaws.
"How come I've never actually spoken to you on base?"
"I don't know, maybe because you've always got one of those pretty girls on your arm?"
"Oh, you're real pretty, Alpha 4, just gotta give me a chance, hun." Poe thought you were pretty.
You laugh again, "In your dreams, Captain."
There was a beat of silence, before Poe piped up, "someone special at home?" You swallow guiltily.
Ever since you first met Poe, you had been head over heels in love with him. Sure he was good-looking, and his reputation in the bedroom preceded him, but beyond that, he was charming, funny, and he cared. About everyone. Not just his superiors, or his friends, but even stupid kids who had no idea what they were doing when they landed on base.
You thought of his face, his beautifully warm brown eyes, his stupidly floppy hair, "Yeah, someone real special. I'm just hoping he'll give me a chance back on base."
"He'd be stupid not to."
"You're just saying that."
"I mean it, 4, he'd have to be blind to not see what a catch you are." You can tell by Poe's tone that he is being genuine.
"Thanks, Poe, you're clear to return to base. See on the other side."
You hear Poe land as you head back to your room. He calls your name as he is walking.
"Hey, 4, wait up!" You wait patiently as he, and BB8, catch up to you. "About this guy."
"Poe, let it go."
"I'm serious, 4. I can help you get that date."
"No, I mean it, Poe. Let it go. You can't help me here." You stare straight into his eyes. Big mistake. You get lost easily, wanting to let the warmth cocoon you into a false safety until the rest of eternity.
You shake yourself back to reality, walking away from him and leaving him confused and annoyed.
Days pass, and you find that Poe has pushed himself further and further away from you. You were still his chosen comms officer, but he avoided you on the base. You felt bad. He'd practically confessed that he thought you were pretty and you'd turned him away, letting him believe that there was someone you were pining after. Even though that person was Poe.
You had tried to talk to Poe before he went on a mission alone to Coruscant, but he walked away, feigning that he was busy. He even deflected your questions in the air, and turned his transmission signal off when he got to Coruscant. You were fuming.
How dare he put himself in danger with no chance of backup?
Realistically, your anger wasn't anger at all. You were worried for Poe. Even if he wasn't your Poe.
You vowed to have that conversation with him when he returned.
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Poe couldn't stop thinking about you. He hadn't since he first spoke to you about 6 months ago. Before that, he just thought you were pretty. But once he realised that, not only were you beautiful, but you were also smart and had a sarcasm to match his, well he was a goner.
When you told him, that there was someone else, he saw red. He wanted to put his first through the fucker's face, but goddammit, he would do anything to help you.
So he offered to help you get that date. It was a mostly harmless offer, and he didn't really expect you to take him up on it, but he put it out there nonetheless.
What he didn't expect was for you to raise your voice and storm away. He was shocked.
He figured he overstepped some undrawn boundary, and he felt guilty. So he tried to give you space, give you distance. He'd give you anything if you even mentioned it once. But, jealousy took over his previously well-intentioned thoughts. If you wanted someone else, fine, you could have them. But Poe couldn't watch you get them.
He didn't want to take the mission on Coruscant. He wasn't a spy, he was a flamboyant and show-off-y pilot. But he didn't want to see you in another man's arms. So he took it.
That was what landed him in his current predicament: tied to a chair in the basement of one Zek Shadej - an ex-smuggler who turned to an arms dealership for the higher paycheck.
Zek slaps Poe. He demands, once again, to know what a pilot for the Resistance is doing at a gala for the low lives of the galaxy. He didn't word it that way but the sentiment still stands. Poe says nothing, just spitting a mixture of blood and saliva at Zek's shoes. Zek curses and heads to the door: "I'm done with him. Dispose of him."
The guards left in the room stalk toward him, blasters unsheathed and ready to fire. Poe uses the pin you gave him to cut through the ropes binding his hands.
It was his fifth birthday on base, he reckoned. With different systems, and different lengths of orbits, it was hard to know for sure, but he knew the rest of Black Squadron were planning his celebration for today. So he remained in bed, lying on top of the sheets, head propped up on his arm.
A gentle knock rang through his room. He'd told the person to come in, and you did. Armed with a giddy smile and a small wrapped package. Poe had no idea where you had found wrapping paper, or why you would buy him a present but here you were.
"Jess said it was your birthday today. Thought I'd give you something neat." You said, approaching him nervously. He swung his legs and sat upright, pulling your arm so you were standing right in front of him. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, taking in your kind face. You and Poe were hardly friends, but how he wished you could be more.
"So, what did you get for me, pretty girl?" Poe rests his callous hardened hands on your hips - he liked the feel of your soft skin under his palms. He also liked how sensitive you were to his touch - your flushed expression and lust-filled gaze confirmed it.
You handed him the small parcel, "I hope you like it."
He takes it from you, pulling you to sit beside him. He opens it with careful hands to find a small pin. A Yavin Parakeet. Poe's favourite bird.
"They used to symbolise freedom. Like you do." You whispered the last part.
Poe had never wanted to kiss you so much.
Poe threw the chair he had been sitting on at one of the guards. He landed on the floor with a loud groan, his blaster skidding to a halt at Poe's feet. It was Poe's lucky day.
He shot the other 2 guards, dashing out of the basement onto the catering floor. He escaped through a back door, a few of the staff giving his bloody face and dishevelled appearance a double look. He sprinted through the streets to a docking station a few miles east. Zek sent a few men after him, but Poe was smart, and he knew Coruscant well. He dodged the men, and fired up his X-wing. He had Leia's intel safely stored in his shirt pocket.
His X-wing was severely damaged - his landing gear compromised and the transmission antenna bent at an awkward angle. He took off precariously - he knew he'd have to stop somewhere to fix the ship and refuel. He remembered the old outpost on Dantooine. Your dad's outpost.
He lightspeed jumped into the sector, breaking through the atmosphere mere seconds later. The landing was rough and he saw your father running towards the ship, blaster raised.
"Come out, slowly and unarmed. Do anything I don't like the look of, and I shoot."
"It's me. It's Poe. I came by a couple of days ago. I promise I mean no harm."
The old man lowered his blaster. He tucked his shoulder under Poe and helped him inside, "Let's get you looked at, son." Despite the pain, Poe smiled. Son. He liked that.
Your father patched Poe up, offering him a nice meal and a shower. While Poe cleaned up, your father called you.
"Hey, dad, what can I do for you?" You respond, your brain still focussed on the transmissions you were decoding.
"I wouldn't call if it wasn't necessary-"
"I know, Dad. What do you need?"
"I got one of your guys," your ears pricked up, "and his ship is damaged. I need to know how to fix it. Think you can help?"
"Yeah, of course. I don't remember sending anyone your way though, think you can tell me who it is?"
Your dad grunts as he climbs up the ladder, radio tucked under his chin, "yeah, it's the pretty boy from a few days ago. The captain. Can't remember his name."
"It's Dameron. Who're you talking to?" Poe comes out wiping his hands on a towel. Despite this man being your father, years in the resistance had warned him against trusting strangers.
"My daughter. She's telling me how to fix your ship."
"4? I wouldn't trust her anywhere near my ship."
"I heard that you know," you laughed. You brought up the specs for the X-wing, "I'll send you a copy of the spec - that's probably more useful than anything I have to say."
Your dad laughed and you sent him the specs.
"Good luck, boys," you ended the transmission.
The rest of the day was spent fixing the ship. Poe and your dad made good small talk - they were both pilots. They had a lot in common. They also both loved you. They had that in common too.
"Go clean up, Poe. I'll make us dinner." Your father said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. Poe smiled. He liked this life.
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Poe was back on base by nightfall the next day. You waited for him as he got checked up on in med, and then you walked with him to his room. The silence was deafening.
You followed him into his room, watched his every movement. He milled about, putting on clean clothes, washing his hands, and combing through his hair. His whole body was still tensed up from the mission - you wanted to stop him, hug him, do something. But you couldn't. He didn't want you near him. He was angry at you, and rightfully so.
"Your dad's nice." You looked up at him. Poe still had his back turned, but his shoulder had relaxed. You wanted to run your fingers down his back. "Peculiar, but nice."
You smiled softly, "He's lonely. Not that fun living on an abandoned base in the middle of nowhere."
Poe sat down on his chair, and you walked towards him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, gently soothing the knots out of his muscles. He leaned his head back, a low moan of satisfaction left his throat. The sound went straight through your body, eliciting shivers.
"Talk to me. Tell me what went wrong," you whispered in his ear, not wanting to break the calmness that swept through the room.
Poe shook his head, bringing you in front of him. He leaned his head against your stomach, hands coming to rest at your hips. You tangled your fingers in his hair, and he grunted in appreciation. You shivered again.
He chuckled, "you like that?" Your face blushed a bright red. Poe laughed again, before leaning to kiss your stomach. He kissed up through the valley in between your breasts, and up your neck. He stayed there for a minute, nipping and suckling at your neck, before making his way to your face.
He was fully standing now, his hands moved to your face, and he gently dotted kisses everywhere. Your cheeks. Your eyes, which had fallen shut at his ministrations. Your forehead, then your chin. He kissed the sides of your lips, and you let out a soft moan, begging for more.
"Greedy, are we?" He asked, his voice much lower than before. You opened your eyes to see a smug grin painted on his face. You didn't care.
You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours. It seems he got the memo because as soon as his lips touched yours, he took over. His tongue slipped into your mouth and stroked yours gently.
He tapped your thigh gently, a signal to jump, and he carried you over to his bed, depositing you on the edge gently, dislodging his lips from yours. He knelt down in front of the bed, pulling your closer to him by your legs.
"Tell me to stop." He looked up at you, his pupils blown wide, as he took your dishevelled appearance in. Like a predator looks at his prey.
"Please don't."
He pulled your boots and cargo pants off, kissing up your legs. The arousal pooled between your legs, and you moan.
"So fucking wet, and I haven't even touched you yet." You whine pathetically, trying to pull Poe closer to where you want him. He just laughs.
"Bet the other guy couldn't do this to you. That's why you need me, ain't that right?" You whine again, "Need me to take care of you, baby girl, ain't that right?"
"Please, Poe."
"Please what, baby girl? What do you need?" Poe whispers, cheekiness glinting in his eyes.
"Please, fuck me, Poe." He smiled.
"As you wish."
He pulled your underwear down your legs and stared enamoured between your trembling things, "Such a pretty fucking pussy."
You threw your head back as he dove face-first into your folds. He kissed your mound lightly, before rubbing soothing circles around your clit. You buck up, the pleasure unlike any you've ever known, and Poe presses a hand onto your abdomen, locking you in place.
"Don't deprive me of my meal, honey," He whispers into your pussy.
He continues his assault, testing the waters of what you did and didn't like. You liked when he went fast, when he went slow, you got impatient. Maybe it was time to teach you some patience. But the low whines and moans were too much for Poe to bear. Soon your thighs were clamped around his head as you let out a loud moan, and you came undone under his touch. He lapped up every last bit of your release as if he'd been left in the deserts of Jakku without any water for years. And the moans. Oh Maker, his moans. You thought it impossible for a man to enjoy himself that much. But from the way he gripped your thighs, and pulled his body in further, you could tell he never wanted to pull away.
You laid limp on the bed as Poe stood up, and peeled his clothes off his body. You stared shamelessly. It wasn't the first time you'd seen Poe shirtless, but you'd barred yourself from staring then. Now it was allowed.
He smiled at your shameless ogling, and grabbed your hand, pulling you to stand up, pressed against him. You could feel his still-clothed cock, pushing into your abdomen, and you could feel it throbbing at the contact. You sunk down onto your knees, hands fiddling with his zipper.
He pulled you away and shook his head. "Not now."
He pushes you back onto the bed and crawls over you, his lips reconnecting to yours. He had unzipped his pants and kicked off his boots, leaving a pile on the floor.
"Tell me if it hurts." Poe kisses under your jaw before pushing inside.
Holy Maker, he's big.
His cock stretches you out deliciously. He pushes into you until he's settled within you and waits for you to adjust. The initial pain fades into pleasure and soon you're begging for him to move.
"You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. Bet you wouldn't beg for anyone else." Nevertheless, he moves.
He starts slow, getting used to feeling you around him. You want more.
"Please, Poe. Faster. Please, please, please." You beg him, screams ripping through your throat.
He picks up the pace, relentless now. Fast and hard. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, mixed together with both your moans. You feel the pressure building up and your moans get louder. Poe chased his own release as you got closer and closer to the edge.
"Poe, I'm gonna... gonna come. Please, Poe..." Poe slowed down a fraction, pulling you further from the edge. You whined pathetically.
"Tell me you're mine. Only mine." You smiled through your lust-induced haze.
"Only yours, Poe. Always yours." He picked up the pace again, and the coil begins to tighten. Poe's moans push you over the edge, and you cum hard. So hard that your whole body feels electrified, your toes curling in pleasure. Poe fucks you through your high, turning your entire body to jelly. He pulls out and shoots his ropes over your body.
You smile. You lift a finger up to your chest and lick Poe's cum off your chest, moaning at the taste. The filth of the act clearly affected Poe, as his eyes closed in pleasure. He moaned lowly, grabbing your hands and pressing kisses to them. You closed your eyes, falling back onto the bed.
Poe disappeared into the refresher, grabbing a clean towel and dampening it, before returning to clean you up. You looked confused. No one had ever done that for you before. He wiped your chest and between your thighs, before carrying you to the bathroom. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes in Poe's refresher, before heading back out.
Poe was gone.
You were confused, given that he had changed his sheets and left you a spare t-shirt and pair of boxers to change into. You sat down on the edge of his bed, stretching your legs, a pleasant ache settling between them. Where the hell could he have gone?
A few seconds late, someone knocked, "Are you decent?" Poe.
"Yeah, come in." You stood up, shuffling your feet. Poe walked in, shirt almost completely undone, carrying 2 bottles of water from the cantina. Your heart almost burst.
He opened one of the bottles handing it to you, before leading you back to bed. You took a few sips, the coldness soothing your throat that was raw from screaming.
He laid back on his bed and beckoned your closer to him. You curled into his arms and reached up to fiddle with his hair. You both sat in silent reverie - taking in each other's company.
"Will I see you again?" Poe broke the silence timidly, running a knuckle over your cheek.
"You see me every day, Poe," You tease him gently, "You see me in the corridors, and in the cantina, and sometimes even after you get back from a mission." Poe slapped your ass, causing you to burst into laughter. He pulls you closer to his body.
"I mean it. Is this just a one-time thing? Given your - um - crush on the other guy?" You stay silent, "Is he a pilot? Is that why you're not telling me?" You nod your head, trying to hide your smile. You felt bad for not telling him, but it was funny.
"He's a pilot. But that's not why I'm not telling you." Poe frowns, creases appearing between his eyebrows.
"Is he a superior officer? Does he live on base?"
You decide to keep teasing him, "Yeah, he's a Captain." You look into Poe's eyes. "He's definitely my favourite person on base." Poe's frown turns into a scowl.
"He has the most beautiful brown eyes and the most amazing hair that I always want to run my fingers through," You tangle your hair in his, pulling it just the way he likes. "He's cocky, and he's so sexy. And he knows that he's sexy too." Poe tries pushing you away, rolling from his side to his back, but you just cling to him tighter. You place a kiss on his jaw and then on his ear.
"Why are you here, then? In my bed? In my clothes?" He says, jealousy and annoyance evident in his voice. You feel bad.
"You wanna know his name?"
"Not really. Then I'd know who I wanna punch, but I still wouldn't be able to do it."
"I don't really think it's possible to punch yourself." Poe turns to face you, the jealousy in his eyes fading into hope.
"What?" You just smile. "You love me?"
"I didn't lie, Poe. I'm yours. Always yours." He kisses you, hard, not giving you any space to breathe.
"You're not just saying that," He breathes, pulling away just enough to speak. You reconnect your lips to his, and he pulls you on top of him, your thighs around his torso. You look deep into his eyes, his pupils so dilated as if he couldn't get enough of you.
"It's always been you."
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dragontamerno3 · 5 months
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DS9 S2 E22 - The Wire
HOW DOES ANYONE THINK THESE TWO ARE IN A STRAIGHT??!!!???!!!
Ahem.
Seriously. How?
The episode starts off with the two going to their weekly lunch having the gayest banter about books and food and there is genuine concern for Garak when he starts showing signs of illness. Yes, Bashir is the station Doctor but it's also very much a "my friend is in pain, whats wrong" look when it happens.
This is cemented when Jadzia brings her plant to him to diagnose. Their conversation was primarily about the plant he was examining but her "its not like you're friends" comment and them him agreeing angrily while he stabbed said plant? There was no mistaking that he does (at least on some level) think of them as friends. Honestly, that whole conversation kinda felt like a ton of "I'm not jealous" conversations where I've seen two friends discussing a third party who was hanging out with a new person. Or more specifically a crush starts to spend more time with someone new. I have had similar moments myself as a baby queer.
I applaud Quark for his ease of lying. He was so smooth with a line or two to give to Bashir to get him to walk away. Wonderfully done.
The other smooth part with Quark was when Bashir is trying to usher Garak out of the bar and convince him to go to the infirmary and how they just swapped the bottle without a word.
On that same note, when Quark called Bashir to the bar to get Garak and Garak was like "Yes, quiet is better, lets go to my quarters", I wondered how often he actually brought people back to his room. He is so secretive that it seemed to me that he'd rarely (or never) let anyone come by so it seems significant that he offered that.
Of course Odo has tapped Quarks bar to monitor his transmissions, so much so that he even knows when Quark makes his more "sensitive" calls.
From the moment they said Garak was having head pain I figured there was some kind of implant in his head that was either malfunctioning, it was finally deteriorating or something similar. That paired with the fact that Garak was most definitely a spy, whether he still is or isn't is questionable sure, but at one point he was somehow tied to the intelligence network. So it wasn't a surprise to find out that was what causing him pain. It was fun to watch Quark give the Cardassian dude a code for a highly classified piece of tech though that may or may not cause both of them some hiccups later. Karma.
What I WAS surprised by was that is was more of a drug like situation. The whole break down in his room about how he had spent years being tortured and so 2 years ago he decided to say fuck it and to just live in a drugged state permanently was well done. I felt for both men in that moment. I can't even imagine what Garak was going through but I can tell he was suffering even when he had been drugged. And then Bashir hearing that the man he had come to think of as a friend (even if it was reluctantly) claim he wanted nothing to do with the dear Doctor. But then the trust in Garaks face as he relented? There was no heterosexual reason for this.
I need more of Bashir being a guard dog for all those under his care cause clearly that's a pattern I enjoy. It was a great character moment when he protected Jadzia against the trill transfer earlier in the season and it was a great moment here where he told Odo to fuck off.
The whole withdrawals scene was a rough one to get through in that way that I could see where it was going and I could tell both sides of that were very uncomfortable but the "the problem is I DID enjoy it" gave me life.
Every single story Garak told in this episode was both contradictory and very much believable, to me. I believe he blew up a Cardassian ship that held civilians and his "friend" on broad because it sounds like to me that this was the moment that part of him died, the part where he was dedicated to the cause. I also believe he let the Bajorian "prisoners" go and his "friend" was angry/appalled because this might have been one of the first steps to him questioning his involvement in things and how he hated himself for having these thoughts. I also believe he tried to hack the Cardassian systems to self sabotage himself subconsciously while thinking he was fixing things only to discover he purposely screwed himself over.
"I need to know SOMEONE forgives me." 😭💔
The thing that I loved most about this episode though was how Bashir was willing to risk his own safety to go to Cardassia on his own for Garak, who is in exile, to confront a highly respected man of the deepest, darkest intelligence network. That took guts and he did it without even blinking. Hell, he did it without even flinching when it was clear Tain was giving him vague threats.
I am disappointed about how quickly this one wrapped up, it seemed like we were worried about Garak dying and he was just suddenly okay again and having lunch, but that's a whatever moment. We don't honestly know how much time had passed and we knew he was going to get the info he needed to remove the device. It just seemed... fast?
Overall very much one of my favorites so far.
9/10 - will watch a million times
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expresscareautomn · 7 months
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How do you know if your transmission is bad? Ask the experts at Express Auto Service & Repair if you need to replace your transmission repair.
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rumriverautos · 7 months
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Wonder how often should a transmission be serviced? Your mechanic at Rum River Automotive can advise if it’s time for a transmission repair.
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mondaymelon · 2 years
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hush. (yandere!childe x gn!reader)
warnings! this series contains yandere implications, mentions of murder, kidnapping, stalking, and blackmail usage. there will be pov swaps that are marked by symbols!!
(for more information please check my masterlist here)
part 1 here! ←
(a/n) this post contains triggering topics and generally dark themes. please read at your own risk. ^^ this is the second part in the yandere childe series!! requests are closed, sorry ✩
˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚
He had let you go once. It had been a foolish mistake. And since then he vowed to never do so again.
✾✽✾✽
Work in Inazuma had gone... interestingly. The mere idea of having a puppet run the nation, at least that was what the fatui files entailed, was intriguing in and of itself. The culture was just so different and the scenery so stunningly vibrant compared to the bleak snowy tundras of Shneznaya. Yet, Shneznaya still felt so familiar and, well, homely.
On the topic of Shneznaya, or more specifically, Tartaglia, you often thought about him. While the two of you frequently exchanged letters, it was a painstakingly slow process and was in no way an ample replacement of actually being able to be with him. The aching in your heart subsided each time you received a good-spirited Tartaglia's letter, but it just wasn't the same.
Was it selfish of you to wish he felt that way too?
But there was no time dwelling on strange thoughts like those. Work in Inazuma had been extensive. In came as a surprise that you would be working with Signora, another one of the Fatui Harbingers. Still, you supposed it was foolish of you to hope that sending just one general to the nation was enough to end all of the fatui's problems regarding Inazuma... still, you were slightly disappointed.
But that was okay, since Signora treated you nicely. She wasn't as close to you as Childe, not by a far margin, but while she did have a cold exterior, she was a lot more sweet on the inside than you had expected.
However, you had a feeling that if you said that aloud to her, she would certainly not be pleased, so you kept all those feelings to yourself. Nevertheless, there was never a day where you were bored, so all in all, you had it okay.
If only you knew what Tartaglia was facing, halfway across the continent in a different nation.
༘⋆♡⊹。°˖➴
I miss them.
I want to see them. Their smile, their laugh.
I want to talk to them and laugh at their jokes.
Those were the thoughts that ran through the male's head as he stared down at the device he had commissioned from Fontaine wearily. They had said that if would be undetectable, and all he had to do was somehow install this onto you or one of your belongings and then he'd be able to hear everything.
In short, it was a listening device. And it had been bought at no cheap price at all, considering it was high-quality and built for long-distance transmissions. But if it really did work the way he had intended to, then it would be all worth it.
And so, he lovingly sent one of his best guards, whom he knew would never betray him. But it was never a bad thing to be cautious, so he made sure to make him sign a contract - if he failed, it would be punishable worse than death.
That way, his little darling would be kept oblivious to it all!
And it did work.
About a month later, as the soldier returned, he relayed his extensive report the harbinger, but really the only words he heard were, "They didn't notice a thing."
Perfect.
And so he waited for a perfect time, when he knew you would be asleep. Watching the round moon rise up from the craggy horizon, he laughed to himself as his voice cracked in a manic manner. "I'm keeping my promise, aren't I, love? I'm taking care of you in my own special way!"
The sound of your breathing and soft snores were transmitted into the device, along with the ambience of the inazuman rain in the background, and the man let a smile spread across his face at the sound.
"Soon. Soon I'll be back and I'll never have to worry about you leaving my side again."
– end of part 2.
prev. masterlist. next.
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seat-safety-switch · 11 months
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There's been a lot of talk about small towns in the news lately. If you believe the cultural hive mind, small towns have a unique and distinct way of life that just can't be found in big cities. Friends, I am here to tell you that the only thing you can find more of in small towns is parking, followed shortly by inexplicable multi-generational feuds. The latter idea bores me, so we're gonna talk about all the places you can cram a car when you live in the boonies.
Where I live, in a part of town that used to be called a suburb, back when the cops could drive through it without locking their doors and changing their hats, there's only a few places to park. Driveway. Street. Alley. Back yard, if you're frisky. Out in the Great Unknown, you can park right on your front yard if you so please. You can build a simulated junkyard on your back forty. Maybe shove your cars in something called an "out-building," which despite the name is not where you poop (it is, however, where mice poop.) This bounty of parking space means that you can acquire many, many cars and spend the majority of your life not having to move them for the street sweeper every alternating Tuesday.
So what does this mean? It means that rurals are hoarding all the cars. Without space pressure forcing you to get rid of, say, your 17th Dodge Omni, then it stands to reason that they will just stay there, slowly rotting into the ground. For this reason, I recommend that new car hunters visit the sticks in order to ask farmers to sell them their never-gonna-get-around-to-it hoopties.
Of course, there are some problems. If you roll around out there in a new electric car, or even a moderately clean pickup truck, you'll probably get shot at. They can smell the city slicker on you, and they know that cities are a hotbed of crimes, such as illegally parking, or turning right on a stop sign without coming to a complete stop first. You might be coming there to steal their precious shitboxes!
There is a solution, though. I've gotten ahold of one really shitty 1953 GMC pickup truck. There's no floors, there's not much of a bed, its tires are made out of rubber sourced from floor mats people forgot at the car wash, and the three-speed manual transmission is about as synchronized as the last time I tried to do karaoke. What it does have is honesty, though. You can drive right onto a farmer's property, park it amongst their shitty old pickup trucks, and wait until nightfall without anyone being the wiser. Have your pick! They won't even notice they're gone.
Just bring back the pickup truck. I need it back so I can sell it for way too much money to an authentic, hard-working rural politician who spends all his time in the city.
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maeve-on-mustafar · 2 years
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People always say that Anakin ignores Yoda’s advice when he goes to him for guidance in ROTS, but doesn’t Yoda ignore Anakin’s question? Yoda’s doesn’t address the question of whether or not Padme can be saved using the visions at all. I guess no answer can be considered an answer, but he could have properly talked to Anakin about that first.
Something I've noticed about how fans discuss that scene of Anakin and Yoda is that they use it as an example that Anakin didn't use his support system and would therefore reject therapy or wouldn't be willing to put in the work to improve himself.
But literally this scene is taking place because Anakin did use his support system. He went to Yoda for help. He recognized he needed to speak with someone about this situation, even if he avoided specifics, and see if he could get advice to stop the situation from escalating. If the first step to solving a problem is recognizing a problem, and the second step is seeking advice on how to solve the problem, well, then Anakin's done both in this very scene.
As for Yoda's advice . . . I can see why Yoda thinks it's helpful? Like, I think it's applicable to Yoda's situation, given that he lives hundreds of years and routinely sees people he loves die around him. But you're right in that he seems to immediately accept the premonitions of death as death being inevitable. I mean, obviously, I don't think Anakin should have gone to the lengths he did to save Padme, but at the same time . . . shouldn't part of a Jedi's job being to prevent unnecessary death and suffering? Especially in the midst of a war?
But I don't think the advice is all that helpful for Anakin, or even for many non-Jedi. Yoda tells Anakin he shouldn't miss or mourn this person once he loses them and instead rejoice for them that they are one with the Force. Which isn't bad advice, but it completely ignores that Anakin will miss the person he's going to lose, and that's a very normal and understandable part of the grieving process. Most people are not going to be immediately able to accept someone's death and instantly be over it. Regardless of if he should be able to do that, Anakin isn't able to do that.
And likewise, Yoda telling Anakin to "train himself to let go of everything he fears to lose" isn't particularly helpful, either, since, well, he doesn't give Anakin advice on how to do that, or even any tips on how to reach that point on his own. Like, if you want to get better at soccer, and someone tells you, "Practice more!", that's not incorrectly, but it's also very general and non-specific. Practice what more? Windsprints? Drills? Footwork? Is solo work best, or would it be more beneficial to practice with another person?
So how should Anakin train himself to let go? I mean, it's not like he hasn't had practice already, and he's still not great at it. He's a twenty-year-old who's spent the last three years being a general and leading a battalion in a galactic war. Maybe if he's reaching out for help and hasn't found a way to cope with loss by this point, that's a sign he needs some extra intervention and assistance?
The Tapcaf Transmissions podcast had some interesting thoughts regarding the subject of why the Jedi insist on responding to Anakin as if he's just another Jedi instead of actually reacting to the person he is and his individual situation (such as the time Obi-Wan warns Mace and Yoda that their plan with Anakin and Palpatine isn't going to work). The episodes are on the Revenge of the Sith novelization and the Brotherhood novel specifically, and I think they're worth a listen.
Also, I want to bring up a point I've never seen anyone else bring up regarding this scene: considering how Yoda turned his back on Ahsoka in The Wrong Jedi arc and that she left the frickin' Order due to the behavior of Yoda and the rest of the Council, it's a miracle that Anakin tried to go to Yoda for help at all. I think this aspect alone withers the "Anakin doesn't ask for help/Anakin doesn't use his support system/Anakin refuses to participate in therapy" argument where it stands.
Because Anakin went to the Jedi who refused to listen to either himself or Ahsoka regarding Ahsoka's innocence, who expelled Ahsoka from the Jedi Order without a trial and handed her over to Tarkin, and who did nothing to attempt to help her in her actual trial, for help and advice. He swallowed any pride and went to this person who had already failed both him and Ahsoka on an epic scale and whose poor decisions resulted in Ahsoka walking away from the Jedi because she was so hurt by their actions and refusal to believe in her.
So if Anakin decided to give Yoda a shot at helping him again in spite of The Wrong Jedi fiasco, but then walked away thinking Yoda's advice sucked? I can't blame him. Because he knows Yoda already destroyed one of his closest relationships. Is it truly any wonder that Anakin doesn't want to listen to his instructions about just letting another person he loves die and not to miss them or mourn them?
Finally, I want to conclude on another point I never see mentioned. Immediately after this scene with Anakin and Yoda, we get a scene of Obi-Wan and Anakin, with Obi-Wan telling Anakin the Chancellor has sent for him and warning him to be careful of Palpatine. Then we get a scene of Palpatine telling Anakin he needs to be Palpatine's personal representative on the Council and advocate for the best interests of the Republic. Then we get Anakin's first Council meeting where he learns his position is going to be in-name-only. Then we get Obi-Wan telling Anakin afterward that he must undertake this off-the-books undercover mission and be a triple agent spying on Palpatine, who's been mentoring Anakin (with the Council's permission) for the past ten years. Anakin doesn't want this mission because 1) it's treason, and 2) Palpatine is the dad to him that Obi-Wan didn't want to be. And from this point onward, Anakin feels torn between the Jedi and Palpatine and the rest of the Republic and starts growing suspicious of the Jedi.
So even if Anakin did have the best intentions to take Yoda's advice in spite of everything that went down with Ahsoka, he's literally doesn't have the time before he's hammered with a high-stress mission that directly conflicts with his personal loyalties, and this mission again could result in Anakin losing someone he loves because of Yoda. Palpatine was exploiting Anakin the whole time, but Anakin didn't know that and believed him to be a genuinely trusted friend and honest leader of the Republic. He might have believed in Yoda before this point, but he's certainly not going to now, because he now has reason to believe Palpatine's claim that the Jedi are working against him to overthrow the Republic.
TL;DR: Most arguments about this scene ignore what happened with Ahsoka and that Anakin has valid reasons to be skeptical of Yoda. They also ignore that the Council asked Anakin to be a spy almost directly afterward, and that it was the Jedi who allowed Palpatine close to Anakin in the first place.
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