Feb. 17th, 2017


Feb. 17th, 2017 12:22 am
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I am such a loser I made myself laugh by deliberately typing that word wrong. Anyway.

February is getting me way the fuck down. Not sad down, just brain not worky down. Logically i know I’m actually functioning better than I was last month but emotionally I’m convinced of catastrophe. The world being one giant garbage fire by all objective measures is not helping. 

(The stories about dogs were helpful, I did enjoy them, even the ones I couldn’t organize myself to respond to.)

I’m stuck on all of my fic projects. All of them. My output is still good, but I’m stuck. Everything’s hung up in different spots. Hell. Time for a snippet-o-rama, I guess. I’m so brain-dead I’ve probably posted parts of these before, though.

1) I just have to bang (heh) out sex scenes for the epilogue of The Epic, but I’m stuck on two of them at once (it’s a busy chapter) and sometimes you just don’t feel like writing sex scenes. 

“Fuck him,” Rey said, and Finn could feel her little guilty start as she remembered she’d gotten that from a really glitchy porn holo fragment.


“Can I earn forgiveness?” Kes asked, leaning back to unfasten the clasps on his boots one at a time, and pull them off before kneeling on the bed. Leia scooted back a little, to give him room. “Can I do anything for you to convince you to spare my life after manhandling you like that?” He was grinning, bright-eyed and playful now.

“You can try,” she said, and laced her fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him again. He was so big. He was so substantial. He was– her body was ready, holy shit. “Make with the going down and I’ll probably see my way to sparing you.”

2) The Yavin 4Some is also stuck because it’s a sex scene and there’s literally no plot to fall back on, it’s just a sex scene, and I don’t feel like writing one at the moment. 

“I know, baby,” Shara says. “You’re doing good, you’re so good— can you watch?” She pets him with the hand that’s not down Leia’s underpants, smoothing his short hair away from his face, and he gazes at her lovingly, like she’s holding some secret to the universe. Han notes in fascination how strongly Kes reacts to her praise, how pliant he is, how much it seems to calm him.

3) So I worked out Cassian’s backstory as it connects to The Lost Kings but I’m seriously stuck on structure. I have the part that’s the backstory, and then the part that’s where he and Kes intersect, and I have no idea what to post in what order and how. 

part 1: 

“I’m listening, Molo,” Cassian said. “You have to lie still. You’re probably not going to die if you just lie fucking still.”

“Okay,” Molo said, subsiding. “Okay. Cassian, though, listen to me–”

“I’m listening,” Cassian said, resigned. He managed to sit up and reach the medkit, and he rummaged until he found a packet of replacement blood, and slipped it into his shirt. He held it against the bruise across his chest, and the cold helped a little. It hurt, it hurt real bad. He couldn’t breathe. Calm down, calm down , he thought, and slowed his breathing and lowered his shoulders and tried not to wheeze.

Fuck, he needed to address his own injuries. This wasn’t an adrenaline letdown. He fumbled out the hand scanner and pointed it at himself.

Fracture, it said, sternal fracture, rib fracture, rib fracture, contusion, bruising, fluid in lung, more data required.

He jabbed the treatment button and it didn’t respond. He jabbed it again, and text scrolled up, finally, lagging because there was so much of it, that was a bad sign. At the end it blinked, beyond scope of first aid, seek med droid immediately .

Well, they didn’t have one.

and then part 2: 

“There goes the plan to just assassinate him at a distance, I suppose,” K-2SO said.

“Stars, would you shut your fucking mouth?” Cassian hissed.

“Technically,” K2 began, and Cassian hissed wordlessly at him again. K2 gestured with his hands as if he were offended.

“I wish that sensor of yours were removable,” Cassian said. “I’d send you back to the ship, with all the help you’ve been.”

… I don’t know, I’m a nightmare about beta reading, but I could sure use some advice on how to put that damn story together.

4) And then I’m alllllmost to the point where Sled Dog Guy is ostensibly going to cross over with Found Cat and I have the problem of too many ideas and I don’t know which ones to use. 

Finn had never actually seen Poe in the outfit before. He’d seen it on the hanger, so he knew it was ornate; the base fabric was black, but the lapels of the jacket and the sleeves were heavily ornamented with silver braid, as were the sides of the trousers. But that hadn’t really prepared him for how good Poe looked in it.

“He looks like a doll,” Iolo marveled.

“His ass looks amazing,” Jess said.

“His ass looks really amazing,” Finn said, unable not to stare at it. The jacket made his shoulders look even broader than they were, and showed off his slim midriff beautifully.

“The hat is ridiculous though,” Iolo said.


Cassian spoke more freely out here, too. It was blindingly obvious that he’d entirely shed the Jeron personality for the duration. He was sharper, brighter, funnier, wittier, with more physical gestures and overall a great deal more animation. Bodhi had a feeling that if he had ever had an opportunity to observe him in full-on Jeron mode, among people who knew him exclusively in that identity, the difference would be still more marked.

“What?” Cassian asked, after a pause; he’d caught Bodhi staring.

Bodhi shook his head slightly. “You didn’t even bring Jeron along on this trip at all,” he said.

Cassian smiled sadly. “I don’t really like him,” he said.

Some nights I just open all the stories in tabs and page back and forth between them and get really mad that there isn’t any more of them, but no matter how annoyed I get, they don’t write themselves. Life is very hard.
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How the fuck is the “least racist person you’ve ever met” always a white guy who’s just about to do something racist?
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british person: it’s amazing how the u.s. doesn’t use the metric system, none of your measurements make sense
me: yeah i guess. hey real quick how much do you weigh
british person: 9 and a half stone
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My darling @zobar2 picked up some postcard stamps for me so now some Red State Care Packages are outbound. I hope they amuse, revitalize, and envigorate. #resist
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So Dr. Bronner’s changed their labels recently.

ETA:  Apparently, these labels aren’t even supposed to be out until September, but the local Meijer’s has them now?  The link also has a pdf of the text, which is good, because I don’t know if I want to type it all out.  It’s Dr. Bronner’s – it’s on the verbose side. 

ETA ETA:  Went to the All-One report on “Treating Employees Like Family,” and holy practice what you motherfucking preach.  Goddamn. 

Found the post with the revised Dr. Bronner’s label. 
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ugh i have a thing i have to do tonight, i don’t even have to leave the house to do it, i can do it with materials i own, i’m prepared to do it

but dude is out of town and i had to deviate from my routine on my way home and run two (2) errands and it’s like, that’s drained all my abilities to Adult (they were not difficult errands, this is nonsense), and I’m now stuck sitting on the couch refreshing Tumblr and not even able to go get my phone from the kitchen  (it’s right there!) and respond to the texts I got on it while driving, and I’m thirsty and getting up to get water is like, this Ordeal, and oh my gosh, i have a thing i have to do tonight and it is a perfectly reasonable fine normal thing and I can’t.

Christ alfuckinmighty it is so goddamn tedious being me sometimes.



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