Current WIP:98% dialogue1.5% action.5% pornDialogue

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Current WIP:

98% dialogue

1.5% action

.5% porn

Dialogue is:

98% FEELS

2% poop jokes

I’m not just a great writer I am the BEST writer.

jacquez45: bomberqueen17: star-anise: dragondicks: dragondicks: how come the robots in star...

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jacquez45:

bomberqueen17:

star-anise:

dragondicks:

dragondicks:

how come the robots in star wars are property even though they’re very obviously sentient and can feel emotions?? what the fuck. why do none of the movies point out how fucked up that is

after a full night’s sleep this is still bugging me tbh like there’s this scene in the first movie where r2d2 and c3po are visibly scared of being taken apart by jawas and i guess its supposed to be quirky?? but it comes across as scary???? and in the mainstream movie canon nobody ever goes “hey why did we program these subservient machines to have personalities and identities and to be able to feel fear and distress” this is some brave little toaster shit except it’s somehow gone unnoticed in an absurdly popular sci fi movie series with a plot that revolves around morality and justice. leia how could you allow this

Well to be fair, this is also a universe that allows human slavery, so…

I have a lot of feelings about this too and they keep creeping in and threatening to derail the stories I actually mean to write, which are largely about humans kissing one another.
Should I scrap all that and just write about droid freedom fighters? Because I kind of want to.

no, just ALSO write droid freedom fighters! DROIDS.

back in the day, Basingstoke wrote a series called droids need love too which is part crack and part serious. One of the things it deals with is droid freedom.

“R2 remembered the little gold-headed boy showing off his pet droid.  He would never, ever tell C3PO who made him.”

THAT REC IS SO GOOD

READ THOSE STORIES THAT IS SO GOOD

god help me why am i wondering about the sanitary facilities on x-wings? and the probable side...

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god help me why am i wondering about the sanitary facilities on x-wings? and the probable side effects of the stimulants you’d have to take for a multi-day mission, and how you’d definitely experience GI side effects? 

“So um.” Finn had not contemplated the logistics of being in an X-Wing for more than a few hours. He knew they wore compression gear under the flight suits, to keep circulation to their extremities even without gravity. But he hadn’t really thought about anything beyond that.

“There’s no lavatory,” Poe said. “You gotta wear a piss bag. It’s not as glamorous as it looks in the holos.”

“Four days,” Finn said.

“You don’t want to know what my digestive system’s like after all these years,” Poe said. “I don’t know that I really want to have this conversation in the nominal presence of food.”

“Holy shit,” Finn said.

“It’s really not,” Poe said.

[…]

Poe grabbed one of Finn’s hands with both of his, and his hands were freezing cold and shaking. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay, man. I do this a lot. It’s– I’ll let you know if anything happens that isn’t totally normal. I’m gonna– I’m gonna go to the shitter now. You can go on about your day. If you want, come check on me in like an hour. I might have passed out in there. Okay?”

“I could come with you,” Finn said.

 “You don’t want to be anywhere near this when it happens,” Poe said. “It’s sweet of you to offer.”

“I’m a stormtrooper,” Finn reminded him, “we have literally no notion of privacy. I cannot tell you how weird it is for me to go into a room by myself to shit. I’m used to doing that socially. We had, like, schedules.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Poe said, giggling helplessly. “Oh– oh no, don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m dead fucking serious,” Finn said. “If you want me to come hold your hand while you take a monster shit that is not in any way weird to me and it weirds me the fuck out that it is to you. Stormtroopers never went through that shit alone. Literally. You were never alone.”

“Shit,” Poe said, “if you make me laugh any more I’m not going to make it.”

Finn stood up and held out his hand. “I will get you there,” he said. 

THIS EXCERPT IS BEAUTIFUL AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR THIS FIC

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I wrote this bit and I was like LOL self, that’s so fucking stupid, that’s totally not going to make the final draft. But I kind of. I can’t make myself delete it. It’s like. It’s my ship manifesto. It’s the clearest vision I had of what it’s like to be a Stormtrooper. (OK, this, and the snuggle barracks bench from the French & Indian War-era fort near my house, where it’s just a six-foot-wide bench along the wall that everyone sleeps on, and Stormtroopers are totally used to that. A snugglier form of space travel.)

IDK. Finn has no personal boundaries. This is my most enduring headcanon. 

“So this is really weird for you people, huh?” Finn asked, when he figured enough time had passed.

“We really don’t shit socially,” Poe said. “It’s not just me being a prude. We’re pretty much all gonna think it’s weird.”

“Huh,” Finn said. He looked around. “So I’ve had to learn a lot of new stuff here, and I think this? This might be the weirdest thing. It’s a bodily function! It’s a thing literally everyone does! Why do you have to go do it secretly?”

“It’s probably the most intensely private thing we do,” Poe said. “Nudity, most of us get over that. Sex, whatever. But I don’t think I’ve ever in my life been in the same room as another adult while taking a crap.”

Finn thought about it a moment. “Babies, though! They just shit themselves all the time, don’t tell me that freaks you people out?”

“Oh, fuck me,” Poe said, “you just made me think about the fact that Leia fucking Organa has changed my shitty diapers in my life, and a big part of what I do here in the Resistance is avoid thinking about that.” He was laughing helplessly again.

“I can’t help what I do,” Finn said, amused. “I mean, I guess that gives me context, though. She has dealt with your literal shit, and you’d die for her. That’s a hell of a bond.”

“That’s not why,” Poe said, indignant but also possibly dying of laughter.

“No, no,” Finn said, “that’s totally it. The shit-bond. It’s sacred to your people. I get it now.”

Fatshion February! Though I’m bad at selfies so

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Fatshion February! Though I’m bad at selfies so really it’s just my mermaid hair and formidable… Prow.