tfw you have too many wips and you want to work on all of them at the same exact moment so you spend three weeks toggling between tabs and adding two words to each one in a day and never have an update for anything ever and mostly just waste all your time. Snippets time!
Lost Kings: probably could update, 8k words, Cassian Andor crosses in. But now I have to connect to the events of Rogue One and ANH and I’m just not prepared in my heart for that, and it keeps getting clunky. Also I have to get Poe actually born, and, good lord, I don’t know. It’s all A Lot.
“I think you do have a sentimental attachment,” K2 said shrewdly, watching him. “I think you’re telling me so I’ll know to watch out for it.”
“I think you don’t know anything about sentiment,” Cassian said, “so maybe you’d better keep your suppositions to yourself.”
“Help me categorize your relationship to this person,” K2 said. “You worked with his father. Was that a professional relationship, a personal relationship, or a romantic relationship?”
“K2,” Cassian said, “I don’t think that’s a fruitful line of speculation.”
“Nonsense,” K2 said. “You taught me to look for people’s emotional connections, that’s how you bring them down.”
“You’re on the wrong track,” he said. “This is a favor to Bail Organa and he picked me because, number one, I was nearby, and number two, I’ll be easier for the grieving mother to take.”
“Because of your sentimental connection,” K2 concluded.
Cassian sighed. “That’s not– fine, K2, sure, it’s a sentimental connection.”
“I knew it,” K2 said smugly. “I knew it!”
Home Out In The Wind: epilogue, Kes/Leia, getting everyone to Yavin IV. Once on Yavin IV, possibly can use this piece, written about a year ago, last updated in September. (Really? Oh my god yes, I looked it up.)
“But first. Okay. Imagine little Jess Pava. I’m just, you know, beginning to, uh, blossom into womanhood, y’know? And I’m having. You know. The feelings. The hormones. All of that. It’s just starting to become a thing.”
“Sure,” Rey said, a little dubiously.
“So little Jess watches that holo,” she said. “And there’s Fake Princess Leia, you know, in the tight white dress, and she has boobs, and no bra on. And you know that’s because of a real historical holopic, right?” She pulled over her datapad and called up the pic in question, which even to this day she still had saved in a convenient place.
The actual, historical Leia Organa popped up, nineteen and gorgeous, lipgloss flawless, in her white dress, holding a blaster up in a ready position, looking alert and dangerous and slender and sure enough, there were her unbound breasts, petite and perky, with just a hint of the peak of one nipple casting the very slightest shadow in the holo. It wasn’t an overtly sexual picture, but it was a very attractive one. The dress wasn’t particularly revealing, it was quite modest, but it draped loosely across her chest and did nothing to conceal the lack of any kind of brassiere or structured bodice underneath.
“Oh,” Rey said. “That’s. That one was in the survey but it was so small I couldn’t tell what the fuss was.”
“That’s the fuss,” Jess said. “So imagine, little baby Jess, who hasn’t quite stopped playing pretend with dolls, only now she has strange feelings in her pants and isn’t sure what to do with them. And so she pretends to herself. What if Princess Leia came to her, instead of to Han Solo? And so she comes in and says, Jessika Pava, I need a pilot to help me defeat the Empire.” She lowered her voice, made it breathy and sultry, and looked down, then up through her lashes at Rey, pushing her chest out a little.
“Help me, Jess,” Jess said to Rey, overdoing it but not so much that she cracked up. “You’re my only hope.”
Rey stared at her a little blankly, but then smiled a little. “Should I pretend to be you?” she asked.
Jess blinked, then grinned in delight, then schooled her features back to pretend-imploring. “I heard nobody can fly an X-Wing like you can, Jess,” she said. “I need you to save me.”
“You heard right,” Rey said, clearly working hard to keep a straight face. “I’m the best pilot there is.”
Jess cracked up, and Rey did too, her whole face opening up into amusement. “You’ve watched porn holos,” Jess said.
“I have seen a couple,” Rey admitted.
“It goes like that,” Jess said. “And sometimes I imagined the adventure to myself, where I’d fight bravely and maybe she’d have to bandage my– I dunno, arm or something, and there was a lot of drama. But then there’d be the grateful aftermath when she’d come to me and she’d take her shirt off and press herself against me all breathlessly, and say–”
Rey cut her off by grabbing her upper arms and pressing herself against her chest. “You saved us all, Jess Pava,” she said, and fuck, it went straight to Jess’s hindbrain, where every fantasy she’d ever had was all melted together with all the others. Rey was so fucking pretty, and her hands were strong and firm and her body was strong and lithe and there was only a hint of softness where her pert little breasts were loosely bound under the shirt she had absolutely stolen from Poe.
“Hnnghh,” Jess said intelligently.
“Should I take my shirt off and do it again?” Rey asked, still pressed against her.
“If you take your shirt off I will die,” Jess said, and her face was hot.
Sled Dog Guy: Cassian and Bodhi’s Romantic Weekend Getaway is all but complete, but I keep getting derailed because #1 the story should end there but I need a good conclusion to set up for the Sequel Where All Shall Be Revealed, #2 the next part is where it crosses in with Found Cat and I don’t really yet know how to do that, and #3 Baze has a collection now of POV scenes that don’t in any way belong in the story but he really keeps pushing. (If for no other reason than to explain why he doesn’t know Chinese Braille, which is a real thing and I know that but never explained that I know that.)
Cassian sounded distressed. “You gotta react, man, you gotta give me something to go on here, don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not– I can’t just react on command like that,” Bodhi said, “I’m having my worldview expanded, it takes a lot of attention. I hadn’t quite recognized how sheltered I was.”
“I’m expanding your worldview,” Cassian said. “Really?” He squinted incredulously, crinkling his nose, and Bodhi realized Cassian must think of him as worldly or well-traveled, somehow, must think of him as more than he really was.
“I live a very small life,” Bodhi said, a little sadly, “with not much in it really, it doesn’t take much to show me something I’ve never seen before.” It was more vulnerable than he’d planned on getting, just now, and he exhaled with a subdued kind of resignation, folding himself a little smaller.
“Bodhi,” Cassian said, and caught his jaw, hand curling alongside his neck, pulling him up to kiss him tenderly. “Oh– Bodhi, you’re– no, you’re really exceptional, you know that? It doesn’t– no, come here.” He cradled Bodhi’s face in both hands and kissed him, over and over, little soft kisses. Bodhi sort of resisted at first, but his baseline level of arousal was way too high to maintain any kind of cool for long, and after a moment he was pretty well putty in Cassian’s hands.
“Has he vouched for them?” Rey asked darkly. “Or do you just assume he has because he lets them in his house? He’s not that choosy about who he lets in.” She’d taken two weeks to get over the thought of Poe just up and giving Finn a key to his apartment, just like that, and had only really come around to it after Finn had explained some of how sex worked to her. (That wasn’t why Finn had explained it to her, but she’d decided on her own that it seemed like a suitable incentive.)
Finn and Poe had been dating for two months now and had pretty much had all of the sex, including a few of the things Finn had been convinced were just on the list to make the list longer. It turned out that there was some merit to some of those things. Some of them were a lot less interesting than the basic stuff, but there were a few things Poe clearly liked a whole lot more than Finn did, and a thing or two that worked the opposite way, that Finn really enjoyed but that Poe mostly seemed to like because of how Finn liked them.
Rey was still faintly disbelieving about all of it, but Finn could tell she was coming around on the whole concept.
“I think Poe would have been more alarmed about me going anywhere with them if he weren’t in effect vouching for them,” Finn said. “Even if they are operatives for the Order, or one of them is, I doubt they’ll make their move with both of us together.”
“Still,” Rey said.
“You were odd with that boy in Bodhi’s apartment,” Chirrut observed as they picked their way back along the snowy sidewalk. He’d insisted on making Baze walk with him in the snow. He liked to look at it, he said. Baze had given up on making sense of Chirrut, because it all eventually made sense if he didn’t worry about it too much, he’d found.
“Mm,” Baze said. Chirrut was speaking Mandarin, with his adorable accent. Chirrut’s first language was Cantonese, which Baze understood all right but spoke terribly. Chirrut’s Mandarin was passable, but not as good as his flawless English. For the most part, they spoke English to each other. Baze only broke out the Cantonese when Chirrut was badly disoriented; he’d really never learned the language well, and had a terrible accent and worse vocabulary. Chirrut used Mandarin for many purposes, not least of them sex, but mostly for gossip. His favoring of it during sex, however, had the unfortunate effect of having given Baze a kind of Pavlovian response where Chirrut’s accent turned him on. Mostly he could work through it, especially with thirty years of practice under his belt, but Chirrut wasn’t above using it against him. It did make the gossip more interesting, generally, and meant Baze could tolerate more of it than he otherwise would.
also #3b, I’m telling you this guy won’t shut up:
It was, despite being ball-achingly cold, kind of a nice break from jungle environments where things would crawl into the tops of your socks and eat you to death.
Baze considered himself too old for jungle warfare anymore.
BONUS ROUND PART 1: OK the entire bonus round is me possibly oversexualizing Shara but I’m sorry, I write stories with sex in them, I just do, and the one is just about sex, but in a normal fanfic kind of way. The second one I might keep gen, but I haven’t gotten the usual sense of direction from the characters so we’ll see.
1) The Kes/Leia scene in HOITW made me revisit the very first thing I ever wrote that had Kes Dameron in it. I had started a tiny short story where Han Solo is injured in an obnoxious, not serious, but hard-to-bacta way (broken leg, I figure), and so Leia leaves him behind on Yavin IV while she abducts Shara for an unofficial mission. Kes is there with Turn Down For What Poe, who is 2, and turns down for NOTHING. The dudes bond, that was it, that was the story, I never really wrote it. (But that was when I figured out that Poe hadn’t really exactly been planned, which is what I went with in Lost Kings, and Kes winds up giving Han some advice it turns out to be too late for him to use.)
Anyway. This is when they find out that Leia’s pregnant with Ben. (I have feelings about fantasy contraception, it turns out.) And somehow, this winds up in a foursome. And I’m writing just that part, which is a glorious ode to gratuitous everything. But I’m really writing it. Just, slowly. On the back burner. But someday, I’ll publish it, because it’s over 6k words long now and also great. (also, experiments in present tense. yikes.)
Kes deliberately bites at Han’s fingers on his way in, and Han laughs and gives him a little more space.
It only takes them a moment or two to make Leia lose composure entirely. Shara sits up and watches, avid and bright-eyed. “Look at my husband,” she says to Han, softly, awed.
“He’s real pretty,” Han agrees.
“I wanna watch him fuck her,” Shara says.
Leia writhes in Han’s arms, and shudders violently as she comes, convulsively straightening her legs and arching her back. Kes manages not to get socked in the jaw by her pelvis and rides her out, gentling her with his mouth, murmuring encouragements.
“Fuck,” Han says, “so do I.”
Kes kisses Leia’s thighs as she calms down, and looks up at them. He’s kneeling on the floor. “If I’m good can I get back on the bed?” he asks, amused.
Shara laughs. “Come here, baby,” she says.
and BONUS ROUND PART II which I think I’ll do for for Bodhi Week:
She still couldn’t place him, but he made his way over to her. “Hey,” he said, with a tentative smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing all right.”
“Yeah,” she said, “thanks,” and then it hit her: he was the honest pilot. “Oh! You! Hey!”
His smile turned shy and pleased. “I wondered if you’d remember me,” he said.
She grabbed his hand. “Of course I do,” she said. “I never learned your name, though.”
He looked startled, but still pleased. “Rook,” he said. “Bodhi. Bodhi Rook.” His hand was cold, in hers; long, tapering fingers, and after a moment, he curled them around hers.
“I’m Shara,” she said. “Shara Bey.”
“I never found out what happened to you,” Bodhi said, looking down a little self-consciously. “I worried, but– I didn’t know who I could ask, you know?”
“Nobody found out it was you who’d told the truth, did they?” Shara asked. “I did worry about that, too.”
“Oh,” he said, looking back up at her– he was really pretty, actually, with enormous dark eyes, luminous and wide, long straight nose, curving mouth, night-black hair; he was almost birdlike, sharp and soft and delicate. “N-no, I– fortunately, I shipped out pretty quick after that, I didn’t have to see any of them specifically again anytime soon. You know, Chak never flew again, they reassigned him to maintenance last I heard.”
“Good,” Shara said fiercely. “He was an asshole.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Bodhi said, wide-eyed and a little haunted. “He was awful. Really, thank you for what you did; you deserve a medal.”
She laughed. She was still holding his hand, she realized. She did a quick mental calculation: around here, her reputation would stand up to having been seen being friendly with an Imp in uniform. Nobody here particularly knew her, or cared, and there wasn’t any particular strong sentiment either way about the Empire here, no recent atrocities or conscriptions or anything. “Hey,” she said. “Come have a drink with me. I owe you one, at least.”
He gave her a startled look– his eyes were wide, liquid, striking, so dark the irises and pupils nearly blended together in the dim light here– and startlement blended to shy pleasure. “Really?” he said. “I mean– surely it would have done you more good if I’d stuck up for you from the beginning.”
Shara shook her head. “I mean,” she said, “it probably would have just gotten you hurt too, there was no call for that. You did enough.”