lightsaber-dildo:
1) The first non-vowel letter of your last name
2) The last non-vowel letter of your last name
3) Your age
4) The number of siblings you have
5) The number of pets you have
Tag yourself I’m FL-1701
(Source: spock-paper-scissors, via yea-lets-do-this-shit)
swearydroid:
inspired by @suzukiblu‘s lovely head canon about the trio getting babies
- It starts with Finn. They’re on a mission, finn and poe going to an abandoned first order barracks to hunt down some information and the retreating first order left behind this baby, this tiny soft little girl, and she’s crying out of hunger and cold and fear and finn acts on instinct and bundles her under his shirt
- finn has never actually seen a baby because troopers are kept isolated from baby troopers, kept in age appropriate barracks, and he is absolutely hypnotised by how tiny and fragile it is. it is so soft. look at its little soft softness.
- can we keep it? can we keep it poe, please, look how beautiful and tiny she is she’s never going to be a trooper, never ever ever.
- they keep it. what do you call it? you name babies after things you love right–
- Rey takes one look at the little thing and says. “We’re going to call her Luke.”
- That’s the first. After that, Finn comes back from a mission holding the hands of two little boys, twins. Both are wearing mini versions of Stormtrooper armour. “Say hello to Millennium and Falcon.”
- After that Rey comes back with no fewer than five Force-sensitive kids who had almost become troopers. “They’re not going to the Academy,” she says, “because we’re not going to start when they’re little, not anymore. Kids get to be kids.”
- They make the mistake of letting these kids name themselves (after things you love, Finn suggests, after people you admire) . Thus, the Resistance ends up with: Finn I, Finn II, Finn III, Dameron’s X Wing, and ReytheJedi.
(Source: peradii, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
swearydroid:
courtesy of conversations with @dimir-charmer
- tell me about troopers and food! I have All The Feelings: regimented meal times, told what and when and where to eat, have to finish in a certain amount of time or they don’t eat; not eating is grounds for reconditioning; you eat what is in front of you, everything controlled and bland and perfectly nutritionally balanced
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Ok yeah, tell me about troopers absolutely forgetting to eat because no-one is directing them to, tell me about troopers who are weird and cranky when they don’t have EXACTLY the recommended level of calories or nutritional intake, who don’t know why they’re mad and irritable.
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Or troopers who like, just eat whatever out of a can and assume it’s all fine. Can of preserved fruit, can of bean paste, can of condensed milk. Just the assumption that rations are interchangeable
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TROOPERS WHO ARE SO SURPRISED WHEN THEY EAT SOMETHING OUT OF DATE AND THEIR BODy IS JUST LIKE…naaa fuck right off
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troopers dealing with the aftermath of coming off all those strange pills the order had them on: you know that they were so full of medication they rattled; uppers, downers, things to delay puberty, things to sort out muscle growth
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God, the concept of food poisoning and allergies must be totally foreign
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Even things like the common cold get blasted right the hell out of you with every antiviral they can get their hands on because otherwise massive communal barracks would be a nightmare
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So really the only experience with illness they have is ‘you get better right away or you DIE’. The ‘get lots of rest and fluids’ approach to the common cold must scare the crap outta them
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Oh God the baby troopers would think they were going to be decommissioned. The older ones might understand the new way of things but imagine little ones hiding the fact they were ill. Scared because they can’t stop sneezing.
- Hiding their friends from resistance medical because sickly children in the order are culled
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There’s like, a bad batch of rations, and half the resistance spends a night puking, and all the troopers thinking is ‘oh god, this must be one of the plagues I’d heard about’
- And reviving care from non-medical professionals must also be so ????? This isn’t your job why are you doing it?
Because everyone in a unit has very set jobs, and it doesn’t mean that everyone else doesn’t care, but you wouldn’t trust a sharpshooter to do an engineers job because they 'were concerned about the wall’ so why would you trust Not A Medical Professional to bring you tea and soup?
- But yes! Bad rations, mass food poisoning and
the troopers are like WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON and the Resistance fighters are like…dudes, its okay, just some bad food and the troopers are convinced they’ve been poisoned because that is what the first order does with rebellious squads, sometimes; they wipe them out with tainted food, make it look like an accident
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the first order thinks they are being subtle but they aren’t and the troopers know and they are so VERY SCARED when people start vomiting because is this a trap IS THIS ALL A TRAP.
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Especially because there’s the 'we thought that you were different and you BETRAYED US’ panic,
- but they get better. they get better: that’s the magical thing the troopers find about freedom; they are allowed to get sick and heal. (the resistance fighters are just….struck dumb. you poor poor babies and they are guilty for weeks and poe personally does lessons on What To Do When You Get the Sniffle to reassure these scared scared killing machines.
(Source: peradii, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
swearydroid:
stormtrooper headcanons (part 1 of ???) courtesy of conversations with @dimir-charmer
- Ok, so talk to me about stormtroopers who think that seeing other people’s faces is super intimate and don’t want anyone to see their faces because it feels to special and risky
- talk to me about troopers who are deeply ashamed of their inability to read facial expressions or make ‘normal’ ones
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so here’s the thing: stormtroopers with their helmets on since they were babies aren’t going to have the faintest sodding clue how to read facial expressions. they know, instinctively, that one is happy and one is sad but nuances are often lost on them. thus: body language. every trooper is spot-on brilliant at assessing the smallest flicker in body language because they have to be, because it is the primary means of unspoken communication
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and the faces! the faces finn makes! they are open and exuberant and here is a boy who never had to hide his expressions and does not know how to
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everything a trooper thinks is on their face (yes, even phasma.)
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Also lets talk about poker(or the space equivalent thereof) games b/ween former troopers and resistance members, because they’d both be able to read each other?? So easily??
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Like, the troopers would pull literal faces at their hands, and the outsider would be like ‘oh easy money’ and bluff and the trooper would laugh bc ??? She fluttered her fingers?? Who does she take them for??
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Anyway it’s terrible and complicated and lots of money changes hands back and forth and back and forth while they learn to control tells they never had to worry about before
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hahahaha but OH WAIT it gets even more complicated because troopers have all sorts of Very Strict Rules about what belongs to them and what doesn’t – think about it, most things in the Order are communal and having personal property is a major thing and also absolutely sacred (you do not ever, ever steal from other troopers, you just DO NOT) so they take gambling Very Seriously. There are basically two layers: the sort that occurs within units, wherein random things like sanitation hours are bet (you know – time, favours, things that aren’t physical things) and the other sort, the sort that occurs /between/ units, where troopers gamble for Actual Things (cigarettes, sweet rations, etc, etc). Gambling for Actual Things within a unit is grounds for absolute disaster because troopers are very protective of their Things. Gambling for Actual Things is something you do not do with someone you want to stay friends with…….this causes issues for the Resistance pilots who do not have the same complicated idea of A) These Things are mine and Do Not Touch Them, b) unit is everything, unit is FAMILY, c) trading favours in lieu of actual currency (e.g. ‘I bet you three hours of gun cleaning’ – fineeee, I bet ten credits – THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS)
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so yes: much cultural misunderstanding
next up: troopers and food
(Source: peradii, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
rainbow-squirrels-7 asked: Write about Rey please! A and b if you want...
peradii:
- When Rey is ten, another scavenger tries to steal her haul. It isn’t much: a twist of some old engine, a carbonator; but it’s enough to feed her for the rest of the day, maybe the next, and pickings have been slim lately. The clutch of metal bits (barely enough to swell the lining of her bag) represents the first meal she’ll have had in two days (she is so hungry). And this man – this boy, she’ll think when she looks back; he can’t have been more than fifteen – grabs it from her. There’s no civilisation on Jakku, no sense of protect the small and weak – there’s no mercy for a girl alone. And the boy just takes it, snatches it from her grasping hands, holds it aloft, grinning wide and wild and mocking. “Finders keep –” he starts to say, quoting the oldest (and only) law of the desert. The rest of the words snag on his loose teeth and split-open lips: Rey smacks him in the jaw with her staff and every bit of strength she has. He stumbles, makes for the blaster at his side, and she panics: she hits him in the legs to bring him down, hits him in the skull until his hand falls slack and he is very, very still. Rey snatches her haul up and runs and does not look back. (She’ll think of him sprawled in the sand, skull open and red and wet, when she prowls through the frozen forest towards Kylo Ren. She’s older. She knows better. She’ll hesitate. She will not deliver that final blow.)
- Jessika Pava snatches a chip from her plate in the canteen. It’s all in good humour; Rey is hanging out with the pilots in one of the rare moments she isn’t training with Luke, enjoying the noise and hubbub – oh there are so many people. It gives her a headache, light and sharp behind her eyes, but it is a good pain, a clean pain; a growing pain. Anyway. Pava snatches the chip – a misguided attempt at flirting, maybe? – and Rey reacts without thinking and stabs her in the back of the hand with a fork. There’s silence for a moment, an aching and desperate silence, and Rey can only hear the roar of blood in her ears. She stares down. Pava’s hand has slackened; the chip is on the table. The tines of the fork haven’t sunk in that far, but there is red pooling on Pava’s skin and Rey feels a great rush of nausea. Her stomach cramps, hard, and she leaps to her feet, gabbling apologies. Pava holds up her hands, says, “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it really is,” and Poe scrapes a good chunk of his dinner onto Rey’s plate and says, “We won’t ever let you go hungry,” and it’s all too much: Rey bursts into tears. (No one tries to steal her food again. Later, she leaves a basket full of apples and potatoes on Pava’s bed. It is an apology. It is a very well guided attempt at flirting.)
- “What’s wrong with this water?” she gasps, holding her cupped hands out to Luke. “It’s awful!”
Luke bursts out laughing. “It’s full of salt, Rey. You can’t drink it.”
“All that water,” she says, scornful, “and not a drop to drink – are you sure that the Force is benevolent?”
“Hey, when I first saw an ocean I did the exact same thing. Only difference was that Han pretended that that was what water was meant to taste like. Pretended to drink it and then got offended when I didn’t. I didn’t want to seem like the odd one out so I drank a whole mug of it and vomited everywhere – he wasn’t laughing so hard when he was trying to air the smell of vomit out of the Falcon.”
Rey bursts out laughing, wading back towards shore. “Tell me more about him,” she says.
