OK so like I’ve avoided talking about politics

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OK so like I’ve avoided talking about politics at all anywhere basically, this whole election

but I was scrolling Facebook on my way to somewhere else and I saw AGAIN that same fucking post (of all things) about Hillary wearing a *gasp* tWelVe ThouSanD DoLlaR JacKet! with the fellow whose FB post it was (and who’d just cluttered up my feed with like five similar posts)’s snippy commentary “yep, I just don’t like her” and I SNAPPED

and I said “if she was a man nobody would have goddamn noticed”

and he snapped back with– oh my god– “it happens on both sides!” and a link to a fashion blog post about how Sanders could stand to snazz up his wardrobe a little oh my god

and my skull opened up into a woven fence of flaming serpents, which hissed “that’s a bullshit false equivalency, I’ve seen this post fifty times and only saw that one just now because you just went and Googled for it for me, and also, don’t you ever say that a woman’s appearance being criticized and a man’s commented on means the same thing, you are not a newborn and you live in this world”

and I got a small pile of likes, and he hasn’t responded again, so. (He used to bench manage my derby team so I know he is not a raging misogynist, but oh my God, can you imagine why it is that you find her unlikable? Have you put any real thought into that? Hm? Search deep within yourself, my friend. You are a Good Dude, I know your works for charity and I have watched a line of fifteen women brutally hip check you and you never even peeped once, but this is a thing I struggle with and, here is a hint, I am one.)

But the other thing that’s getting me is how many people I’ve seen expressing variants on “I can’t even imagine what could possibly cost twelve thousand dollars about a single garment” and I have several things to say about that, number one being, I understand you, of course, I don’t even make twelve thousand dollars in a year. And like. Absolutely. I’m with you on a shitload of issues here, I am ready for pitchforks and all kinds of shit——- but for fucking real, this is an excellent distillation of bullshit.

Because numbers two through about a million are:

Our global economy has artificially depressed the cost of clothing all around, because of a large number of factors,

but among them is the systematic devaluation of labor traditionally associated with women

much of which textile work is

and so chew on that for a moment and maybe lay off the fucking jacket, because as it turns out, it seemed like an easy target but it is not. Any person on the global scene like that is subject to scrutiny, and a woman much, much more. Can you imagine if she dared show up in a cheap dress? Disrespectful, surely. Frumpy. Etcetera.

And I can easily imagine a twelve thousand dollar garment, because I know how fucking long it takes to spin and weave and sew, and if all the workers involved were paid fairly (as, generally, they are, if the garment is couture, that is what couture properly means, it means made to order, as opposed to off the rack, the point of it, the cost of it, is that you are paying someone for their particular attention, and that means a fair wage for labor), the fucking JC Penney fleece pajama pants I’m wearing would have been a hundred dollars, but as it is they were made by probably slaves in a country I can’t pronounce so they were, like, fifteen probably. 

(and then I go on, and if you’re just going to get mad, don’t click, I’m not trying to bait anybody, but I was so mad, I had to write it down, and this is all the politics I’m going to talk about, sorry.)

Jesus Christ. Vote for who you want, but just today I saw a Tweet from someone about how oh probably if Donald were elected then he’d steal the Republican Party back toward the center. 

You fucking idiot, if Donald Trump is elected, he will probably quit in a massive rage storm about two weeks in as soon as he realizes he can’t actually fucking do anything as President, and on his way out he will vandalize whatever he can reach. Can you fucking imagine? Can you fucking imagine?

In the meantime, think for a second about just why you find Clinton “just unlikable”, and consider for an instant whether you maybe find her “shrill” too while you’re at it, and maybe swallow that shit down and look at her actual voting record for a second and notice that she’s differed from Bernie on like, three votes like ever. Sure, she’s changeable, sure, she likes to follow prevailing winds, but how the fuck do you think she’s even still alive? 

And then remember that this is a country where our actual legal system deems a young man’s prospects more important than those of the woman he raped. We are objects to be fucked, in the eyes of many of the men in power in this country, and the culture at large. 

It’s a fucking miracle Clinton’s still alive at all. 

And as I am writing this I keep interrupting myself to go fetch and find things to help my dude work on a project he’s doing, because I am so trained that his interests are more interesting than mine. (He has been surprised and pleased by my assistance, but I know he would never have found the tweezers, binder clips, and lamp extension cord by himself, and also, the call is coming from inside the house; I feel like what he’s doing is more important than my interests.)

Sanders’ campaign brought the entire discussion sharply leftward, which was drastically needed. I enjoyed his campaign– well, most of it. I deliberately split my votes between his delegates and Clinton’s, in the New York primary. (It was slightly confusing. It was certainly not rigged. Sometimes, especially if you have not voted in a particular type of election before, it is worth Googling how the ballot is going to work before you get there. I recommend the website of the League of Women Voters’ Vote 411 informational website.)

Listen. I don’t particularly like Hillary Clinton either. I voted for her when she ran for Congress in my state because I knew she wouldn’t fuck up; she gave me no reason to regret this. It was a transparently ambitious thing of her to do, and she did exactly what she promised, and she walked that fucking tightrope and didn’t slip one goddamn time. She is the biggest fucking overachiever I’ve ever seen. If there is one thing Hillary goddamn Clinton won’t do, it’s fuck up. 

Don’t vote for Trump because it’s cute. His dick will not save us. 

OK I’m done with politics. Of course it took textile arts to get me angry. 

in honor of @kiwisson‘s birthday, I humbly offer

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in honor of @kiwisson‘s birthday, I humbly offer a small scrap from a thing I wrote mostly so I knew how it happened, so I could reference it later in Home-verse. 

When Poe Met BB-8.

Poe was approximately the equivalent of a junior in high school, and sort of accidentally won an annual competition that the Academy runs, where the student in the Intro To Astromech course who gets the best grade is issued some tester model astromech by Industrial Automaton, the galaxy’s major astromech droid manufacturer. He didn’t mean to nerd out in the class, but he didn’t get along with the instructor, who issued him a really shitty teaching astromech, and he kind of accidentally fixed it really well, and it turned out when the IA rep came, along with a really high-ranking Navy officer to award their final grades, the Navy officer in question had served with Kes Dameron and also knew the teaching astromech from its former life, and so Poe wound up being the center of attention. And also was issued BB-8, which made up for the inconvenience.

“You don’t really have to be here for the unboxing,” the IA sales rep said. Poe was hovering a little, he knew it, but he was just– he wasn’t sure if he was excited or mortified or what, he just knew he wanted to see everything. The IA rep was in coveralls, all her smooth made-up polish from the earlier meeting wiped away; clearly, she was herself a mechanic, given the array of tools she had in various of her pockets. Starting with a prybar to open the crate.

“I want to see,” Poe said. “If I’m getting saddled with this thing– I’m in kind of a lot of suspense here, y’know?”

She laughed. “Blessings are usually mixed,” she said. “It’s supposed to be an honor, isn’t it?”

“Listen, lady,” Poe said, “I’m very carefully second or third in my class in a lot of things because guess what, being first is kind of shitty. I try to avoid being noticed like that, and I only did what I did for G4 because I honestly didn’t think anybody’d notice. So I am a little on-edge getting singled out like this. I wanna know what I’m gonna be stuck with.”

“I’m not sure if you’ll be delighted or devastated, then,” she said. “This is a new BB design and they’re… different.” But she eased the suspense, and used the prybar to yank open the box. She hauled out several large pieces, all half-spheres. “I still gotta put it together though.”

“Oh,” Poe said, “I want to see that.”

“You won’t need to disassemble it like this again,” she said.

“I disassembled G4 this far,” he said a little stubbornly. She regarded him, then gestured with the prybar.

“Fine, then,” she said. “Help me out here.”

He helped, holding things in place and eagerly absorbing where the parts went. He was a little disconcerted by the lack of visible wheels or feet. “It’s,” he said finally, as he took stock of the remaining pieces. “Just a sphere.”

“It is,” she said. “It’s very self-contained, and likely to be a lot more durable and less prone to malfunction.”

“How does it– locomote?” Poe asked.

“It rolls,” she said. “The head has mag-repulsors so it basically free-floats. It’ll always stay at the top of the sphere. This makes the droid very nimble.”

“Stairs,” Poe said.

“It’s better at those than any of the R2 units,” she said. “R2s tend to overbalance on uneven ground. This baby won’t. There are known drawbacks, especially with low-friction surfaces, but the counterweights tend to make up for it, and the overall design has tested extremely well.”

“It looks silly, though,” Poe said.

“Aesthetically, it has also tested very well,” the rep said sternly. “It’s cutting-edge.”

“So,” Poe said. “I’m gonna get my ass kicked, but I can be assured it’s trend-setting.”

The rep smiled. “The physical design isn’t all that experimental,” she said. “They haven’t made many, but there’ve been prototypes like this kicking around. No, what’s revolutionary is the learning AI. It’s meant to be much more flexible than the usual ones, and a lot more self-determining. We actually hadn’t planned on deploying this one to an Academy tester yet, but the work you did on G4 was so exactly like what we were looking for that I made a special case for you.”

“Really,” Poe said, taken aback.

“Yes,” she said. “This droid is going to be smarter than most, sharper than most, and better at self-programming than most. It takes a dedicated single user to work it properly, and the results are highly individual, and most importantly, unpredictable to others. This is why we’re so eager to use this AI in an astromech, especially in simulated fighting; sometimes the droids’ algorithms are predictable to opponents. This is designed to avoid that. This droid won’t react in an expected way, and so you won’t be killed by an enemy for being predictable.”

“Cool,” Poe said, despite himself.

“The payoff is that you can’t be heavy-handed in the learning,” the rep said, and her whole demeanor was changed with how fired-up she was, talking about this droid. Clearly, it was her pet project. “You can’t just go in all ham-fisted and delete things and try to hard-code stuff in that you want. You have to be willing to teach it the way you would a person, or a child, or a pet. We weren’t going to offer this one to a student at all but your results with old G4 were so precisely based on this kind of thinking that I talked my boss into it.”

“Hm,” Poe said, and shit, she’d sold him. He kicked himself, inwardly, but it was too late now. She was fitting the sensor array into position on the upper half-sphere part.

“So it may make erroneous conclusions,” she said, “but if you’re patient and let it work the kinks out, it’ll be a whole lot smarter than your average droid. It may wind up pretty keyed to you individually, so if it needs to work with other people, you might have to come up with your own kind of– instruction manual. But it should be really, really good; we’ve got really high hopes for this particular AI.”

“I mean,” Poe said. “I’ll do my best.”

She looked over at him. “Promise?” she asked, with a sparkle of mischief, and oh. She was hitting on him. Maybe. No, wait. Probably not. He was, after all, sixteen. And grown adults liked him, but usually not quite like that.

“Promise,” he said solemnly.

“Here goes,” she said, and flicked the droid’s power control on for the first time.

It booted up with a whirr and a series of clicks, and then shuddered violently, and all the lights went on in sequence, then off again. “Calibrating,” it beeped in Binary, and there was a long pause with more whirring. And then–

“Unit BB-8 Initialization Complete,” it said, and spun the half-sphere top completely around, then all the way back. “Visual data input online. Scanning, please wait.” It spun the lower sphere in place, then spun the top around like it was scanning the room. It visibly blinked, flashing a tiny internal light in the optical sensor, as it registered first the rep, and then Poe. “Environmental recognition complete. Awaiting input.”

And it fell silent, blinking a tiny red light near the photo sensor.

“Unit BB-8,” the rep said, “this is your first boot-up. Are all systems functional?”

It whirred. “Systems analysis complete,” it said, “all systems functional.”

“Excellent,” the rep said, and it whirred. “Are all your libraries integrated?”

“Libraries,” BB-8 said, sounding a little lost. But then there was a click. “Yes! Libraries integrated!”

“Good,” the rep said. “This is your new master,” and she gestured to Poe. “Poe Dameron, Cadet, New Republican Fleet Academy. He will be working with you. You know what this means.”

“I know what this means,” BB-8 repeated, a little woodenly. It swiveled and rolled slightly forward, for all the world like it was peering inquisitively at Poe. He couldn’t help but smile at it. It was– it was really cute, and he was going to get his ass kicked over this.

“Hi,” Poe said. “It’s nice to meet you, BB-8.”

The small light inside BB-8’s optical sensor blinked dimly, and it stared up at him motionless for a moment, before jerking slightly and responding, “It’s nice to meet you, Poe Dameron, Cadet.”

“You can just call me Poe,” Poe said.

“You can just call me Poe,” BB-8 repeated, blinking faster. “I can just call you Poe.”

Poe glanced over at the rep, uncertain. She nodded encouragingly. “Most of the other units have a bit more rote stuff built in straight out of the box,” she said. “This one has less, um, stuff by rote? It has to learn before it can do.”

“I will just call you Poe,” BB-8 said, more decided.

“That’d be great,” Poe said. He crouched down to be more on the droid’s level. “So for a little bit, I’m gonna have to be extra patient and show you a lot of stuff, huh?”

“Yes, exactly,” the rep said.

Poe nodded. “You’re gonna have to be extra patient and show me a lot of stuff,” BB-8 said, and it was kind of funny to hear how he translated Poe’s inflections into Binary. “What does that mean?”

“It means there’s a lot you don’t know yet,” Poe said. “And I’m gonna teach you!”

BB-8 rolled backward slightly, seemingly overwhelmed by this. “You’re going to teach me,” it said. “Is this my purpose? To learn?”

“You have a lot of purposes,” Poe said. “I don’t know what they all are, yet. I’m only a little way ahead of you, in learning. So I guess we gotta figure it out together, huh?”

“Figure it out together,” BB-8 said, and spun around in place with a meaningless but happy-sounding little trill.

“You’re such a dork,” Poe said, completely unable to hide his delight.

thesacredreznor replied to your post:OK so like

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thesacredreznor replied to your post:OK so like I’ve avoided talking about politics at…

i really feel you. it’s hard to sort the legitimate Hillary criticism from the misogynistic garbage. i volunteered for Bernie’s campaign but I don’t think Clinton is as horrible as most people in my tumblr circle believe. i don’t think she’ll be a revolutionary president but i trust her to do a decent job.

Exactly. As I said, I split my vote, I was super into Bernie for a bit, but it was actually once the really gross anti-Hillary stuff started to pick up that I was like… nnnnnnnnn… o. 

We need all kinds of change but let’s be real here, the office of President is not where that kind of change has ever really come from. I am still hopeful that people will be galvanized to vote down the ticket. Maybe the messy and horrible implosion of the Republican party will allow meaningful change to happen in that direction instead. I don’t know. Shit has to change but Trump is not the way to change it.

I hate literally everything political I’ve read this entire election season. I am old enough that I had already been voting before W came into office and some of the most vivid memories of my life are the sickening horror of him actually getting elected. We thought he was a joke. And all sorts of centrist bros condescended to me and were like get over yourself it won’t be that bad.

Guess fucking what. It was that bad. Tens of thousands of people have died. There’s-no-real-difference-between-candidates my hairy asshole.

When the Left splits its vote, the Right brings about the fucking apocalypse. I am not fucking around. I am shitting myself. 

fun fact for you: temmin "snap" wexley, in his early teens, reprogrammed an imperial torture droid t

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what this is amazing. what is this from? 

I need to read up on Snap again. I am clearly underutilizing him.

thesewickedhands: xx

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thesewickedhands:

xx

current status: passive-aggressively ignoring the

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current status: passive-aggressively ignoring the store’s ringing phone because it’s not 9am yet

jesus person, i can see the caller ID, don’t hang up and ring right back. it is 8:55 am, just call back in five. I am not getting involved in Whatever It Is That You Want. 

alrightanakin: I’m always so baffled when the

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alrightanakin:

I’m always so baffled when the Main Female Character in something has been “throwing up in the mornings” and she thinks it’s “just a stomach bug!!!” like shit..,.buddy……,I get nervous when my period is just slightly off. Or. If I feel just a little bit nauseous in the morning hours. and ya girl hasn’t slept with anyone in a year. how do you, Miss I Recently Slept With The Guy Whom I Love But It’s Complicated™, not immediately jump to (the right) conclusions

I dunno, I’ve been menstruating like clockwork since 1990 and in a LTR with a cis dude and off birth control for like a decade and ive only had one pregnancy scare (as in, one instance of a mistake that could have resulted in a fertilized egg) in all that time, and I’ve never actually thought I was pregnant. (I have a lot of Anxieties, I just don’t have that one.) Meanwhile this morning even though all last week I was like “lately I get my period on the tenth of the month better remember” I looked at the calendar, tried to remember why June 10th meant anything, sat at my desk for an hour just now thinking oh huh I think I have to potty, lemme just finish this, ugh my tummy kind of hurts, I don’t deserve this, everything is terrible. And was ASTONISHED when I finally went to the ladies’ room and discovered that of course, the one regular thing in my life has happened and these underpants will never be the same. So I imagine if I ever had actually gotten pregnant… well, let’s just say, I can see not catching on to the obvious. But I am tired of the trope always going one way. Of my baby-carrying friends, about half were varying degrees of surprised, and probably the other half were the type who knew within like five minutes. (One friend at probably eighteen hours pregnant woke her husband from a sound sleep by assaulting his beard with a washcloth because it “smells disgusting”. They did not require a pregnancy test.)

animalasaysrauer: beautifullights1: cicaklah: deputychairman: keenonstormpilot: writingwhilehuma...

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animalasaysrauer:

beautifullights1:

cicaklah:

deputychairman:

keenonstormpilot:

writingwhilehuman:

keenonstormpilot:

I may or may not have just spent 45 minutes looking up the weirdest dildos imaginable because of the “Hux being really into alien dick” headcanon going around …. I’ll probably end up writing something for it.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

There ARE some bizarre ones …

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That is EXACTLY what I was thinking about!!

Even I’m not foolish enough to click that link on my work computer, but I’m reblogging for the greater good so that others may go where I dare not

If you could all see my face as I look at that egg laying dildo (it is not a good face)

Oh hey @animalasaysrauer…

Yeah, @cicaklah, @deputychairman, ovipositor dildo was suggested for my 40 dildos universe but I really have no idea how to write it.

It is driving me crazy that I know for a fact I wrote a series of little ficlets and put them up on Tumblr where in the Academy, Poe had a little project where he slept with various xenos and then wrote up little reports on it. and I can’t find them! I don’t know when I posted them and I can’t figure out how to look through my tags and I don’t know what I tagged them with anyway. So that’s frustrating. Because it’s super relevant to this and then it ties in great with the Poe/Hux As Young Lieutenants Having Hatesex On Some Godforsaken Planet because can you IMAGINE if Hux finds those school papers Poe wrote and is like WAIT I SLEPT WITH THAT DUDE AND HE NEVER MENTIONED THE ALIEN COCK AGHH WHY DIDN’T I ASK

but at this point i am so annoyed at myself because I can’t keep track of my own shit that I give up. But there you have it. 

I never had Poe interface with any ovipositors. I see this was an oversight.

“Inter-Species Studies Logbook, day/month/year

Species: I could not pronounce the name. Green skin, had complex jaws, several eyes, spoke reasonable Basic, bought me drinks (I declined more than two; subject was graceful about being declined)

Situational observation/context: met at bar while on school break

Pros: very enthusiastic, interested in my experience, appreciative of my various assets, took correction gracefully

Neutrals: clearly unfamiliar with human anatomy, spent a lot of time caressing non-erogenous zones

Cons: ovipositor was not prenegotiated, encounter ended very abruptly

Notes: #1 don’t let Karé give you sex-related dares, #2 make sure when consenting to sexual contact with unknown species that you have perfect clarity about boundaries especially concerning possible reproduction”

Hux reads this and possibly dies. “Why didn’t you, uh. You weren’t game for the ovipositor?”

“Not without knowing whether the eggs being implanted were parasitic,” the slightly bemused Resistance prisoner answered. “You gotta research shit like that before you let your dick do the thinking.”

“Oh, naturally,” Hux said, looking as unconcerned as he could manage. 

“Besides which, I mean, motherhood has never been a particular interest of mine,” the prisoner went on. “I’m not judging you, I like some weird shit, but I don’t– exactly get the attraction.”

Hux knew his face was bright red. “It’s, never mind.”

“I figure, where they deposit the eggs is kind of crucial,” the prisoner said. “Since I don’t have a womb, all my orifices lead to things I’m using for other stuff? So like, I don’t have time to brood a clutch, like, in my digestive tract, I’m busy using it for other things.”

“That’s not the point,” Hux said. 

“Well,” the prisoner said, unruffled. “I can get how as a sensation thing it might be cool, but I was definitely not down with a for-real unplanned impregnation, okay?”

bomberqueen17: Poe had a really interesting junior year. Learned a lot about himself, learned a lot.

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bomberqueen17:

Poe had a really interesting junior year. Learned a lot about himself, learned a lot about other species. Got some stitches. (continuing from this)

Inter-Species Studies Logbook, x/d/xxxx

Ewok

Pros: friendly, good conversation, nice soft fur
Neutrals: not really all that compatible in body size, not really… sexually attractive; though I understand this is an ingrained bias on my part and I need to work on open-mindedness, I still do need to take my own sexual inclinations into account when pursuing these things; was unable to determine gender of subject and subject seemed not to really understand the question, so discontinued investigation along that axis as not relevant
Cons: they will bite the shit out of you with no warning

Notes: I did nothing without prior consent, and did nothing subject did not enjoy. Apparently the biting thing is a sign of excitement/interest. Unfortunately it was a pretty serious bite and I determined that this was not a compatible expression of sexual arousal, and so I discontinued the encounter on as friendly a note as I could manage, and sought medical attention.

I don’t think it was apparent that I was way more into petting the fur for textural enjoyment than sexual, but note for future encounters: I seem to have difficulty finding really cute furry animals sexually interesting, particularly when they’re half my size, so I may have to leave that category for some other intrepid explorer. Clearly, from people’s reactions to my explanation of my bandage, there are humans who would be really into it, so I’ll leave it to them.

#the poe dameron special studies course in inter-species sexual relationships#i have to stop this and yet i can’t#ok what’s really funny to me is that he never actually has sex with any of these#the challenge is to write one where he does i think#because he’s trying very hard to be open-minded but at that age he’s still kind of a prude#he’s like 20 and common wisdom holds that 20 yo human males are down for anything#and he is learning that he is not exactly down for literally anything#and actually is maybe picky!#don’t worry though he remembers that changing your mind is an okay thing to do#and the people he is experimenting with are also aware of this#he’s not being creepy#he’s just being really adorable

bomberqueen17: I wish I had time to do this but I want to make a masterpost of the Fuckable Species.

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bomberqueen17:

I wish I had time to do this but I want to make a masterpost of the Fuckable Species of the extended Star Wars Universe because it would be hilarious. 

Like, all field-notes-style, like Poe about sophomore year of college or so, figuring out which ones it’s possible to have sex with and which ones just don’t have any compatible parts and which ones will attempt to eat you afterward so even if you technically could you really shouldn’t, and so on.

It’s not at all called for and I don’t have the time, but it would be hilarious. (There’s a bit in chapter 3 where Poe tries to explain his reputation to Finn, which is what inspired this.)

Inter-Species Studies Logbook, x/d/xxxx

New one for the collection– Quarren, related species to Mon Calamari, brief encounter at Oleph Besh social mixer. I couldn’t pronounce her name and she couldn’t pronounce mine, determined she was nominally female and of an inclination to prefer males, did not actually get far enough to determine whether I was actually classifiable as male to her, but we did spend a solid 45 minutes exploring one another’s clothed mostly-above-the-nominal-waist anatomy. 
Pros: great sense of humor, compatible body size, similar ideas of what constitutes first and second base
Less-Pros: suction cups?? very odd dentition an impediment to oral-to-oral contact and an absolute no on any oral-to-genital contact, not that either of us was offering
Cons: suction cups leave marks that won’t fade, smelled like you’d expect a semi-marine life form to smell, could not actually figure out where genitals were located or what their form would even approximately be, kind of lost my nerve

Notes: when dealing with a species with suction cups as part of their anatomy, negotiate where it is acceptable to leave sucker-marks PRIOR to contact, I am literally never going to live this down.

oh look what i found. just when i thought i’d given up.

bomberqueen17: more on this series on Poe and his intrepid exploration of the Fuckable Sentients of.

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bomberqueen17:

more on this series on Poe and his intrepid exploration of the Fuckable Sentients of the Galaxy

It’s sort of important to me, okay, that Poe is kiiiiind of a nerd. He’s from an Outer Rim backwater (Yavin 4 sounds important because shit, the Battle of Yavin was so important they restarted the calendar after it, buuuut, it’s in the Outer Rim and isn’t near any of the major hyperlanes– it’s off the side of a side-lane off the side of the Hydian Way, at best (on this map, zoom in a little, near Mandalore)– and it’s really kind of isolated actually) and he desperately wants to be Cool, and he’s so goddamn earnest, and he’s smart enough to know that pretending aloofness is an easy way to avoid getting made fun of but he’s stubborn enough that he’s going to try earnestness anyway. 

Inter-Species Studies Logbook, day/month/year

Species: Human

Situational observation/context: I didn’t have this log book when I had this experience but I thought it was relevant, so much later I’ve come back to add this entry. My sexual debut was with another human shortly after I arrived at the Academy; a female fellow-student my own age from Corellia

Pros: am also a human, so anatomical compatibility was pretty well guaranteed. No significant cultural barriers to overcome and no difficulty in determining genital configuration or significant rituals. No unexpected considerations in either disease transmission or possible successful mating; it’s easy to know what to do to avoid negative outcomes.

Neutrals: thinking you know what’s going on can kind of lull you into a false sense of security

Cons: both parties expect certain things out of an encounter, and so there’s more pressure than when you’re crossing a species boundary; parties may separately expect quite different things.

Notes: I had received a great deal of false information via pornography and similar sources as to what would be expected of me, and it turns out I had absolutely no idea how to make effective love to a human female. The encounter did not go smoothly, but was eventually enjoyable for both parties. She had no more experience than I did, and did not know how to correct my misinformation, as well as having some similar misconceptions on her end. We both learned a lot and had a good time, but I took it as a wake-up call that I was going to have to study some more before attempting it again, and made a point of keeping my next few encounters with like-minded individuals a little more basic and less intense, which helped a lot with increased success at mutual satisfaction, to put it euphemistically. I’m not going to write log entries for all of them and I don’t think anybody needs me to write an essay on the topic, as I think it’s pretty well explored, but if I can figure out a way to get a grade and credit I’ll write just about anything. 

#the poe dameron special studies course in inter-species sexual relationships#Poe Dameron: Intergalactic Dreamboat#i can’t stop with this it’s ridiculous

The fact that I’m not currently neck deep in

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The fact that I’m not currently neck deep in buttercream icing and instead am sat here suffering is proof that there is not a loving God.
I’m just saying. (Send cupcakes. The cramps are not as bad as last time but I am not enjoying them. I read somewhere that menstrual cramps aren’t supposed to be painful. Okay, that sounds fake but ok!)

Something I'm struggling with and maybe because I don't have all the puzzle pieces and you do. Blood

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Aaaah that they are, nonnie, that they are. 

Okay, first [is the New Republic surrounded], or my thoughts on TFA’s space geopolitics. With maps. 

Bloodline indeed shows the Resistance is just starting, six years before TFA, but if the First Order is on the fringes, the fringes are also much, much bigger than Leia, or even Casterfo, make it seem in the book (the New Republic is very Core-centered). Plus it  tells us very little of the First Order and the state it’s in at this point. Between the Battle of Jakku and Bloodline, they’ve probably been busy.

Now, Jakku should be in the influence zone of the New Republic - it’s not in the so-called bright center, sure, but it’s still the goddamn Inner Rim. But it’s not. That’s how fracking huge the fringe is in the eyes of the New Republic. Though Jakku isn’t exactly the fringes, but it’s very near. Not very far from the Unknown Regions - where the First Order is based. Rey’s Before the Awakening chapter tells us travelers do come to Jakku, and the one thing they’re sure to bring with them is gossip. News. 

And some of those news would have to do with the conflict between the Resistance and the First Order - six years are quite enough for it to escalate. So Rey being aware of the First Order’s and the Resistance’s existence isn’t that surprising. 

Before Bloodline, the First Order was doing its thing - rebuilding, probably some expansion going on in those unchecked fringes of the GFFA. I think they’ve been trying to surround the New Republic, with what looks like a pincer move. 

Finn’s BtA chapter features some interesting First Order internal propaganda:

There were mandatory morale sessions twice a day, when everyone was required to stop what they were doing and direct their attention to the nearest holoprojector to watch a recorded speech from High Command, most often from General Hux himself. Those would be interspersed with news feeds showing the deplorable conditions throughout the Republic: the famines on Ibaar and Adarlon, the brutal suppression of the population of Balamak, the unchecked alien advances throughout the Outer Rim. There would always be at least one story to follow about a First Order victory, the liberation of a labor camp on Iktotch or a fleet battle in the Bormea sector.

So i dunno about awful, but the First Order is definitely doing… stuff. Stuff people would talk about.

[Poe’s chapter in BtA] shows the New Republic is actually aware of the First Order’s existence, but the official line is this:

“The Senate Intelligence Committee has reviewed the reports and has found them inconclusive, at best grossly overstated, Poe. This is a non-issue. It’s a big galaxy. The First Order is a remnant born of a war thirty years gone. Yes, they persist, yes, they continue, but by all accounts they do so barely. They are, at best, an ill-organized, poorly equipped, and badly funded group of loyalists who use propaganda and fear to inflate their strength and their importance.”

…now, tbh, i think Rey being aware the Resistance are the Good Guys TM and the First Order the Bad Guys TM has more to do with biased narrative than anything. Rey knows the First Order is Bad because they’re the official villain of the story, and that’s pretty much all the justification needed.

knnobi: what people think adhd is like: im a little

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knnobi:

what people think adhd is like: im a little distractable but it’s okay because im creative and spontaneous(:

what it’s actually like: me, making a microwave burrito: how long do i need to microwave it? *checks wrapper* okay *sets wrapper down and puts burrito in the microwave* wait how long do i need to microwave it? this time I’ll focus on remembering *looks at wrapper, stares at the thing that says “1 minute” for a second* okay i got this *goes to put time on the microwave* how long do i need to microwave it? this time i’ll

deputychairman replied to your post “The fact

via http://ift.tt/28qOO2B:deputychairman replied to your post “The fact that I’m not currently neck deep in buttercream icing and…”

ugh we’re in sync buddy, I got nothing except MY OWN PAIN to offer you. As soon as I summon the courage to make an appointment, I’m getting that Pill where your period stops. why did i ever switch off that pill.

*rolls around moaning and clutching self* at least you USED this equipment to actually create adorable tiny lives. My equipment has never done anything to justify itself. 

I am the literal worst at making doctor’s appointments (or any appointments at all) so I can offer no support, only solidarity. I went off hormonal birth control entirely about, oh lord, like eight years ago now, because the appointments were too much trouble, but also because they worsened my– I don’t know if there’s a word for it, but basically I lose my mind totally the week before my period? It was SO MUCH WORSE on hormonal birth control. 

I have never been offered a pill that would actually stop my period. Friends suggested an IUD, and I’ve looked into that a little bit; my doctor said it might help me not be insane, but I’m secretly worried it will transition the insane to full-time, and then where will I be?? 

The other downside is that it turns out I am constitutionally incompetent to take a pill every day. (Which was ducky when on SSRIs that had bad withdrawal symptoms. Hooo boy. Don’t do that. I accidentally cold-turkeyed sertraline and have made the executive decision that it was the worst thing ever and I’m just not going to take meds ever anymore for anything? Let me tell you it was bad. It’s like your brain electrocutes you from the inside. Seriously.)

So uh. Barrier methods and deal with it, is a terrible slogan but not all that bad a life. I wish I were competent at like, anything though. Having one’s shit together sounds like a fake idea. 

I survived today. Baby steps. Cramp bark and nettle tea. 

"send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons

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“This is insanity,” Han spits out, stalking down the corridor after her. “You are the—the seven damned hells General of the Resistance, you cannot decide to go racing off on a suicide mission to the fucking—the fucking second generation of Death Star!”
“I’m the self-appointed leader of a extrajudicial military body that claims to be defending a republic recently obliterated,” Leia says, squinting into the sunlight as she emerges onto the duracrete. “I can do whatever I damn like.”

“I’m going with you, then,” he says, stubbornly planting himself between her and her ship. Because it’s Han, and he is so very dear to her—still? yes, forever—she reaches up, cups his face. Holds him there for a moment, before she shouts for Lieutenant Lriss to come and escort Captain Solo to command.

“We’re talking about this when you get back,” he grumps over the comm-link as she’s prepping for take off. She can hear the bustling of the command center  “It isn’t even a little over, your worship.” (He hasn’t called her that in twenty years, and it sends her stumbling. She has to grit her teeth against maybe I won’t come back, then; flip the comm with a shaking hand. “Get off my secure channel, Han Solo.”)

Finn keeps stumbling over “ma’am” like it’s an alien word—“What did you call your female superiors in the Order?” she asks, after he’s gritted his teeth and fallen silent again. “Sir,” he admits with a rueful smile. “It was supposed to be equalizing. Neutralizing.” 

“Well, there’s nothing neutralizing about me,” she says primly (she hates that tone of voice, and Han always brings it out of her, every damn time.) To her surprise, the stormtrooper boy called Finn laughs. “Yeah, ma’am, I figured.”

“We’ll use the Force!” Finn says, his eyes shining, and Leia almost wishes she had brought Han with, just so she could see his face at that pronouncement. But it’s just Leia here in the snow, a rucksack of explosives slung over her shoulder, and she is Luke Skywalker’s sister—the Force has never not answered, when they call. “Sounds good to me,” she says, hefting her blaster.

“You’re General Leia Organa,” the chrome stormtrooper says dreamily as she shuts down the shields. (Phasma—Finn had called her Phasma—has an impressively strong mind, it had taken Leia three tries to compel her through the Force.) “I thought you would be taller,” Phasma says after a moment.

Leia’s never had the pleasure of watching a stormtrooper blush. She resists the urge to laugh, because she suspects it’ll turn hysterical quickly. “Well, you’re much taller than my experience of stormtroopers, so we’ll call it even.”

She’s distracted, she knows, she can feel

[ the red flutter of a fetal heartbeat, the particular ozone-burning smell he always carried in his hair, his hair, dark, squirming on the edge of her bed as she plaited his hair, smudges like bruises beneath his eyes, too quiet then too loud, too much, and then too little, and then gone, all except that fluttering heartbeat that told her he was still alive, somewhere if not near her arms, dragging shadow and light through the Force and hers, her other poisoned gift to the galaxy ] him

“Ma’am?” Finn asks quietly. She shakes her head, swallowing. “We have to plant the explosives in the oscillator. Let’s go.”

(An unexpected aching stab at the way Finn and Rey fall into one another, and Leia is suddenly nineteen years old in the hangar on Yavin, pulling Luke—desert farmboy Luke Skywalker in a borrowed flightsuit, eyes bright with the reflected fire of the Death Star in supernova—into an embrace and feeling something spinning ropes of light between their hands like that old game of cat’s cradle, and thinking dizzily, oh, oh, maybe this is enough, maybe this will fill me)

The sight of him—
        the sight of him—
                     (Vader, standing over her, watching with that impassive mask, rasping breath in her ears as she screamed, sobbing, not begging never begging (she is an organa, organas do not beg for their lives, organas serve, organas die) but biting her tongue bloody to stop herself and this is her son this is her son, there is still good in him. There is. 

She will make it, if she has to.

It takes her two tries to call out his name, and she is suddenly ashamed of how weak her voice sounds, how it breaks—she sounds like an old woman, wailing into the air.

“No,” he says, and even through the vocorder her sounds like her bewildered child (he’s so tall, how is he so tall, she held him in her arms and now she has to crane her neck, just to look at him) “No, it was supposed to be—no. No!”

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