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well now i'm definitely making an excuse to add a chapter to my shitty fanfic so force ghost obi-wan can try the "vader's more machine than man!" line out on commander delia "my disabled pilot is in a relationship with an AI in a robot body" shepard, just so i can do the equivalent of smash that paragon prompt and have her utterly ream him for the prejudice encapsulated in that statement

shepard: i mean it's just policy bro. you left him unattended for 15 minutes so legally we're allowed to leave class, or find him less sucky parental figures

vader: oh fuck off don't tell me you're doing this too

shepard: what? no

shepard: i'm not his new mom, that's samara

shepard: i'm his new cool aunt

shepard: that takes him to stripper joints and gets him ice cream cake.

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anyway i look forward to someday being able to coherently string together a story once more, so i can write upcoming moments in this stupid crossover like

vader: but he's MY son so that means *I* get to fuck up his life!!!!!

samara, busting through like john cena: ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

vader: what the fuck who are you

samara: the lady who adopted your son while you weren't looking

vader: ...the FUCK

"harp" you may be asking "what the fuck kind of business is going on in this crossover where commander shepard has to deal with vader on the normandy and force ghost obi-wan kenobi floating around"

well

it

is the kind of crossover where later on shepard's crowning moment of persuasion is convincing luke to take some recreational shore leave through the use of three asari strippers and an ice cream cake that has a frosting inscription of SORRY YOUR DAD'S DEAD

unfortunately as they talk obi-wan crits a further diplomacy check so shepard does not actually falcon punch him into the sun.

however i do want to write more of her casually regarding him with polite, icy contempt (only compounded because that crit diplo check came at the cost of him *jokingly trying to pull rank*, so now she's pure YEP I KNOW YOU'RE HIGH ENOUGH RANK TO BE FULL OF SHIT, SIR, WE ARE NOT FRIENDS AND NEVER WILL BE.)

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so delia shepard, being so paragon it hurts, does not notice the attempted "see all this shit? see it? yeah i should be in command here not YOU. fuckass." it is intended to be

she just looks at battle date, looks at age, verifies age estimate from outside research, and then becomes ONE HUNDRED PERCENT READY TO THROW THE FUCK DOWN.

on behalf of somebody who has been pure jackass to her so far, to boot.

commander delia boudicca kaitlyn daisy shepard, everybody!

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on behalf of vader no less, who at this point has been nothing but snarky bordering on openly hostile to her - insulting her command, etc. even as he begrudgingly declared that ok sure allies whatever

the bare knowledge shepard even got was vader trying to do a bit of a RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!!! power play, typing up a dossier of info on himself as requested that was *just* a list of battles he had fought in and his age

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anyway now i'm smad i don't have the brain to write more of my bullshit star wars/mass effect crossover

because commander delia shepard is obnoxiously paragon, but in fantastic ways, and one of those ways is "ready to throw fucking down and fight the jedi order for its crimes on absolutely minimal information; still about to see if force ghost obi-wan in a dreamscape can CATCH THESE HANDS"

The real trolley problem is the crippling lack of public infrastructure.

anyway i'm so happy my cosplay is now perfect!!!!

tw for movie prop blood/video game blood that looks a bit like raspberry jam sprinkled on there

why is that un-rotating my picture fuk. who the hell knows computers are hard

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well i'm now never taking these easter ears off, thank you space mom

.........im bune

β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸ³β–“
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠ
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠ
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠ
β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸ β–“
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠβ–“
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠβ–“
β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠβ–“
β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠβ–“
β–“β–“β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠβ–“
β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“πŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠπŸŒŠβ–“
β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“β–“πŸŸβ–“β–“β–“

mr bee man
bring me a wasp
on second thought
you better had not

ok there called the doc i can now relax and bask in my good girl points

and by that i mean lidocane cream and icepacks

so many icepacks

and a heating pad since of course while i'm mid flare for other reasons the communists would invade the rec area, of course

their sex column hands out some spectacularly bad advice tbh that is kind of amusing to spectate

for example: no you shouldn't investigate your new kink of flashing other drivers

you don't need to get into kink ethics

it's called

you are piloting a large hunk of metal and high speeds and so are the people around you, so Do Not Intentionally Distract Them Or Yourself, that is a Bad Thing. Please Don't Do That. You Can't See To Drive With Your Shirt Pulled Up At Your Ears.

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also if any of y'all glance at advice columns just to throw popcorn - may i commend the ABSOLUTE TURBOWEENIE that is the first letter writer's boyfriend, for everyone to go and mock slate.com/human-interest/2019/

i think the answer to the first letter is honestly way too gentle

the answer is DTMFA

(many answers to relationship advice columns are DTMFA but in my defense, very many motherfucking assholes often need to be dumped)

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Computer Fairies is a Mastodon instance that aims to be as queer, friendly and furry as possible. We welcome all kinds of computer fairies!