Snippet from 'lay-on-the-floor-and-scream dot excel' please ❤❤❤
As you might have guessed from the title, this is my 'good data management solves the Clone Wars' AU! Work had me pretty agitated when I put it together, so it's more canon-divergent than originally intended, but hopefully it still holds up.
I started off thinking that the clones, coming from Kamino, would be pretty used to keeping extensive documentation on themselves/each other. Multiple sets of books, even—the sanitized ones they show the longnecks, the informal tracking of things nobody else cares about, the multiply-encrypted ones with the honest data about how their siblings are doing—as automated and redundant as possible, and while yeah it would be difficult to maintain during wartime, they are 1) the best-trained military minds and logisticians in existence and 2) absolutely not going to pay less attention to their siblings when they’re in more danger.
For this fic also I focused in on a worldbuilding thing that I actually thought was true a million years ago before I’d ever gotten into any Star Wars nonsense, which is that Lightside users are a sort of filtering system for the Force. That the Dark was an agent or consequence of some sort of metaphysical entropy—the constant descriptions of it as cold and oppressive really reinforced that one for me—and Force-sensitives would dedicate themselves to opposing it on behalf of the universe. So they’d be agents and sources of the Light, not only directly combating Darksiders (and more prosaically evil people) but also through meditation (and to some degree intrinsic aura) functioning as something like metaphysical space-heaters. I was thinking of them kinda through a D&D lens, like galactic paladin-monks. It made sense to me.
Under this system, then, not only would things feel cold and depressing around a Sith, but the world would be warmer and more comforting around a Jedi. To, say, a statistically significant degree. You see where I’m going with this—what if there was a sweet little chart that proved, mathematically and objectively, that puppy piles around the Jedi general improve the quality of life/life expectancy of everyone involved?
Such a chart could also indicate a general getting closer to a Fall (Krell more cleanly than Anakin, since Anakin’s baseline will be skewed after the Tusken massacre, and conflated by Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s recurring presences) or various other ongoing issues in a battalion (Corrie Guard, my beloveds) but we have to start by convincing our ascetic galactic paladin-monks of the efficacy of wartime cuddles.
Cody hums faintly, and still does not continue. Obi-Wan has years of practice and does not need the Force to tell him to be patient, that if he pushes Cody now he might miss his chance to hear something important. The Force tells him anyway.
“General.” Cody begins again. “You know the kark you make up so you don’t have to directly answer a direct question?”
Obi-Wan narrows his eyes. This conversation could be about many things. The Force tells him yes. It is unhelpful.
It seems he takes too long to answer, and Cody continues on, delivering further defamatory accusations in his polite semi-formal voice. “As when you refuse mandatory post-mission checkups, and Helix hunts you down and asks if whatever put the holes in your robes put any matching holes in you, and instead of telling him what he certainly knows, you spin a charming tale about some other poor sap who possibly got shot but is probably fine regardless, no need for any medics who may or may not exist to get involved?”
The Force says yes. Obi-Wan does not roll his eyes, because he is a master of the jedi order and also of himself. “I’m familiar with the rhetorical construction of a hypothetical situation, yes.” He replies primly.
“Good. I’d like to discuss a situation with you, sir, with the understanding that everything I describe is purely hypothetical.”
(also as you can see this is a very fun Cody for me to write, because he and all the rest of the 212th have gone their entire wartime experience with Obi-Wan layering peace/comfort/reassurance over them like a mantle, so he’s a lot more comfortable speaking his mind and I get to lean into my favorite codywan bitch4bitch relationship dynamic from the jump)
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📍Help me and my family ❤️🩹
My name is Ayaa from Gaza city, I am a children’s teacher, 24 years old, living with my parents and siblings. We all used to live a peaceful life together in our home. As you can see this was my home before being destroyed totally. My home was a 6-story building but now it becomes ruins.
My parents worked 24/7 to be able to build our house, but now after all these years of hard working they have lost everything and become homeless, and emigrants.
As for our job and work, My brother and I had a training centre for languages, we had a dream of being able to teach kids , teenagers, and adults English language skills through camps, games, and many other ways. We worked together hand by hand to make it possible, and when it starts to come true a war broke out and blew up all of our dreams. One morning we woke up and watched the news, and saw our centre has been destroyed. At that moment, we were hopeless, powerless, and stray.
Not only our home, center, but also our family car. I still remember that moment when my mother sold her jewelry in order to buy the car to move easily. But can you imagine the moment you see the last thing you own is damaged, ruined, and smashed.
So for Gods’ sake, you are the only ones who can help us to rebuild our ruined life. I will be so grateful for your kindness and support.
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I’ve been told to make this caption from one of my photos (yes this is me in the photo). I have no control over any of this, I’ve been told what tags to use and how long the post is to be pinned to the top of my page. 😥
The post is up for three months (until June 8) and I am scared about how long I’ll get!!
P-p-please be nice. I d-d-don’t want my life ruined!! 😭😭😭
Update. If this post hits 100 REBLOGS I have to get a larger plug and dildo.
Update 2. You are all mean (specially @count-alta with your 20-odd reblogs)😤😭😭 I now have to get a larger plug and dildo. If it gets to 300 REBLOGS then I have to make a Discord server to show that I am in fact wearing the cage and plug 😭😭😭😭 this is getting both out of control and expensive
Update 3. It hasn’t even been a week. 😢😢 I’ve been instructed to add note milestones. I’ve only been given a couple for now but more will be added if any of you suggest something my dominant likes.
Update 4. I’m back from a brief hiatus from Tumblr while I settled into a new job, and I discovered that this post really took off. I now have to make discord (coming soon) and I’ve been given a new Reblog MILESTONE. If this post reaches 500 Reblogs I will have to start HRT. If it hits 1000 Reblogs then I have to find a man to fuck me on camera 😭😭😭😭. Please be nice.
Update 5: whelp it’s done. My Discord server is live
1500 notes: I have to keep myself hairless from the nose down.
1700 notes: Make an Amazon Wishlist and add 100 toys and clothes for anyone to buy. Anyone who buys them will get a free show with what they bought
1800 notes: my hair must be grown out
2000 notes: I have to resume my BambiSleeps regimen
2500 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week
2750 notes: I now have listen to Bambi sleeps every morning, afternoon and night on my days off
3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min
3250 notes: I have to start using she/her pronouns
3500 notes: I have start wearing a bra everyday
3750 notes: Use a large plug now
4000 notes: I have to start an OF (ManyVids and webcamming as well once I find a better living arrangement)
4250: I have to film myself suck cock
4500 notes: i can only ever cum from anal
5000 notes: I can only wear androgynous clothing. Nothing overtly masculine
5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min
5400 notes: Listen to Bambisleep hypno every time I do anal
6000 notes: edge with a Hitachi magic wand for 30 once a week
6500 notes: start using a ball gag whenever I do anal
7100 notes: Once a week I have to film myself anal training and share it to the discord channel
8000 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min
8500 notes: I must listen to ALL hypno that is sent to me
9000 notes: The Hitachi edging session becomes twice a week
12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cock
13200 notes: Use an XL plug now
13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy
15000 notes: I have to get either bottom surgery or an orchiectomy
20000 notes: I have to be spit roasted
25000 notes: I have to be the center of a Blow Bang
32500 notes: I have to be the center of a Gangbang 😳😳😳
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The mattress company I worked for the first time no longer exists. It was long ago eaten and assimilated by a bigger company. But when I started it was an incredibly intense five weeks of training. I was told I was extremely lucky to be selected, and I was. From a pool of a hundred applicants only fifteen of us made the cut to entering the training program.
The course covered how to talk to customers, how to ask open ended questions, how to close a sale, and product knowledge. I learned a lot, and truthfully my greatest takeaway was a lot of social scripts that I could use in other areas of my life.
We also had a midterm exam and a final. Both included a roleplay element with a trainer and a written portion. They told us when we started that the course was challenging but it was still a shock to come in after the midterm and realize half the class had failed.
I was named valedictorian of training- a dubious honor as it meant I’d done the best in the class, but popular lore had it that valedictorians struggled the most on the sales floor. Lo, I struggled.
Not because I wasn’t good. I was. But because my manager set out to systematically destroy my self esteem. Every sale, every interaction I had was scrutinized and criticized.
If I sold a bed with protectors, moveable base, and pillows he’d ask why I hadn’t managed to sell pillow protectors too. His first trainee had thrived on being challenged and he’d never bothered to learn a different way to coach.
It was wretched. My performance started strong but nosedived after a few weeks with him. My trainer, a man I loathed for stonewalling me in my interview, came in to inform me I was on new hire probation. If I couldn’t get my sales numbers up I’d be let go.
His actual phrasing was, “When you have a bandaid do you like to rip it off or pull it slowly?”
Since it was eminently obvious why he was visiting and because I thought it was condescending I sweetly informed him that I liked to soak my bandaids in hot water so they come off on their own.
He was briefly startled at this derailing but then got on with the bad news. I signed some forms stating that I understood my job was in peril.
I went home furious. I thought long and hard about why I wasn’t succeeding and how frustrated I was with my manager. I came in the next day and my anger had crystallized into a cold sharp edge.
My manager opened his mouth to address the probation and I snapped, “Just leave me alone. Go in the back if I have a sale. If you must address a serious issue then you will give me praise on two things I did right and present it as a compliment sandwich. Otherwise just say good job and shut up. Your constant nitpicking just makes me anxious and I do worse. Back off.” Belated and begrudging I added, “Please.”
He raised his eyebrows in dim surprise but I’d gauged him well. He backed off. Dutifully he’d meander into the back when I had a sale and praised me when I closed it. I resented knowing it was only because I’d demanded complimented but they still boosted me up. My numbers skyrocketed, I landed my first split king sale, and I exited probation with flying colors.
The trainer came back in to congratulate my manager for turning things around. To my gratification he gave me credit for setting him straight and said I’d taught him a different way to lead. My manager would often genuinely praise that moment when I’d stood up to him, impressed with my stubborn refusal to fail and my insight into what would help.
My biggest takeaway from the whole thing was just that people need positive reinforcement to succeed. Praise people for doing a good job. If you’re ever in a position where you need to criticize someone put it in a compliment sandwich instead of just saying the negative.
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I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.
I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.
I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.
Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"
I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.
The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.
I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.
M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!
Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.
Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)
As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)
He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.
We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!
I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)
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