Jan. 12th, 2017

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day 11 of the new year and i’ve missed one day writing and so far haven’t embroidered today but i still could make that up. (the day i missed doing any writing was like… the 2nd i think, so.) Total wordcount for January so far is 14430 including today. Not bad, given that wasn’t a resolution. I just think I should always track it, because sometimes it takes a lot out of me and then later I feel whiny and drained and shitty and don’t know why. 

We’re leaving tomorrow, to go to the farm and see everyone for belated Christmas, and you’d think I’d be extra-prepared given all the extra time i had to prepare and that’s just not the case. Got Dad’s present today, realized I forgot to get anything at all for the only child who will be present. I am some kind of genius. 

i witter on a bit after the cut:

So I need to do laundry and stuff, and haven’t had dinner yet, and haven’t packed anything yet, and that’s a disaster, and I haven’t even wrapped presents, but oh well, whatever. People will deal. 

I hate traveling. I love arriving.

I did get some more Adulting done, I sent in the form I hadn’t understood– Dude spent the forty seconds it took me to fill it out helping me, and confirmed that most of it didn’t apply to me so I could actually ignore it. Work was a disaster, everything was broken, none of it’s my fault, whatever.

My wordcount, above, makes it sound like I’m being fantastically productive, but I’m not. I’m spread through a number of projects, which is pleasant yes, because I can just– do what strikes me– but it means nothing gets done and it’s risking making the less-urgent projects get incoherent. (You would think I’d be really focused, say, on the Threesome Of Reconciliation with PoeFinnRey for the Epic Epilogue, and yet, there is also a document on my hard drive called Yavin4Some and that’s getting all that love. Poor kittens. Your time will come. It shouldn’t feel like work.) 

Today’s focused effort, however, was on the Bodhi/Cassian thing. And I think I found a couple of truths. #1 it’s entirely Bodhi’s POV, because I think the point is you don’t know whether Cassian’s lying/what he’s lying about / why, and i think that’s the heart of the thing really, and #2 Chirrut just took over, so, now we have plot entirely because he couldn’t keep his nose out of it. 
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time for a snippet-o-rama because i am feeling gross that i can’t finish anything yay!

1) Yavin4Some (this title is funnier if you know, which you don’t, that I have several documents in my giant Scrivener Thing O Doom called, respectively, “Yavin4″, “Yavin4_2″, and “Yavin4_again”)

Shara pats the bed next to herself. “Lie down here, baby,” she says to Kes, “and let Han suck your dick, he’d like that for an appetizer, wouldn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Han says; there’s no point being indirect.

“Okay,” Kes says, with a little laugh, trailing his fingers down from Han’s jaw. “You could take your shirt off, though, maybe.”

“Maybe,” Han says, and skims out of the offending garment, and sheds his trousers while he’s at it. Kes lies down next to Shara, and Shara leans over and kisses him, and Leia’s staring glassily at them. Han climbs onto the bed, and runs a hand up the outside of Kes’s thigh; Kes bends his knee a little in response, pushing his body up toward Han like an offering.

Shara lets go of his mouth, and murmurs, “Now Kes, I want you to do something for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Kes says, gazing at her like she’s his whole sky.

“Don’t come until I say so,” she says, and Kes shivers a little, and he’s all the way hard now, and Han doesn’t want to just grab him while he’s distracted so he waits.

“Okay,” Kes whispers.

“Why not?” Leia asks, which saves Han the trouble.

“Because,” Shara says, looking at Leia, and once she breaks the eye contact it’s like Kes is freed and can look at Han. He grins kind of apologetically. “Kes is kind of a one-and-done kinda guy, and there are an awful lot of things I want him to do first.”

“I never let Shara do this to me,” Kes says, and he shifts a little, cocks one leg up to slide it against Han’s flank, pulling him in without trapping him. “Because then it would be done too quick. Go easy on me?”

“If I gotta,” Han grumbles, but Kes is even hotter turned-on like this, his skin flushed and his eyes sparkling and stars, he’s young, he’s really young, he’s like twenty-four and looks immortal and this is what was underneath the terrifying stoic badass grizzled exterior he was projecting the whole time in the Pathfinders, that was all a lie and this is the truth. Kes’s Pathfinder grin was a vicious baring of teeth: his real grin is a sweet perfect thing that starts shy and turns dazzling, and he deploys it now.

“I can’t do you justice,” Kes says, “and do them justice too, you know?”

“Fair point,” Han says, and emboldened by the dazzling flash of teeth in Kes’s smile, he pulls Kes’s underwear down and off him, and now Kes is the first one naked.

He’s gorgeous, of course, and Leia makes a fervent little noise, then leans in and kisses Kes. Han can’t really see, at this angle, but he can see the way Kes’s dick jumps. Han has to touch it, wraps his hand around it, and it’s hot and thick and heavy in his hand. Kes groans, and Leia shifts so now Han can see them, can watch his wife kissing an incredibly hot guy whose dick he’s about to suck.

It’s hot, because when Han’s kissing her he can’t see how she looks, and she’s so into it, she’s got her eyes rolled back and shut, she’s breathing hard and pink in the cheeks and Shara’s hands are on her ribs, Shara’s watching, eyes glittering, and Han starts jacking Kes’s dick, slow and firm, watching all the muscles in Kes’s abdomen tense as he arches his back into it a little.

Han can’t stand it, he has to get his mouth on him.

2) Cassian Andor’s As-Yet Untitled Adventures With Kes’s Estranged Father: and this excerpt is kind of spoilery but I still don’t know if I’ll even publish the story, it’s another one that’s just a labor of love that I don’t expect will have a wide audience, so:

“You can’t get me out,” Kana said. “You can’t– not this way. I can’t– I can’t run any farther.”

Molo gritted his teeth. “We’ll carry you out,” he said. He unholstered his blaster and pointed it at the lock.

“No,” Kana said. “No! Molo, don’t do that.”

“It’s the only way,” he said.

“It won’t work,” she said, “and then they’ll know you’re here.”

“It will work,” Molo said.

“Listen,” Kana said, pushing her fingers through the mesh to put them over the lock and spoil Molo’s shot. “Listen to me, Untar.”

“Kana, move,” Molo said.

“If you don’t listen to me,” she said, “and you do this, and they catch you, and they catch the boy too, then this mission fails and they’ll get what they want out of you or me or him, they’re trying to catch us alive so they can torture information out of us, you know this.”

There was a long pause, and finally Molo lowered the blaster. “I know,” he said.

“So send Cassian away now,” she said. “Send him up. If I can be gotten out, you can do it. Get him and the chip out of here.”

Molo chewed his lip, and looked over at Cassian. “All right,” he said. “Climb, and I’ll meet you at your ship.” He had the coordinates, he knew where it was; Cassian squashed down the need to double-check.

He began climbing obediently, but he could still hear. “Next,” Kana said, “I’ll let you take one shot with that blaster at that lock, but if that doesn’t do it, you need to act fast, all right, Molo? The next shot has to be for me. You can’t let them take me alive.”

“Don’t ask me to do that,” Molo said, sounding pained, and Cassian paused, looking back.

“You know there’s no choice,” Kana said fiercely, voice shaking. “You need to take that shot right away, Molo. If that lock doesn’t break, you need to kill me right away.”

“I can’t,” Molo said.

“Of course you can,” Kana said, and she sounded angry. “You know I don’t have a weapon! I can’t do it myself! You can’t let them have me!”

Molo glanced up, and Cassian hastily began climbing again, so he didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. His heart was racing, but he had the forethought to rig Molo’s climbing rope so he could help pull him up in a hurry.

After a moment, he heard a blaster shot. 

Then a second blaster shot.

Then a third.

3) The untitled modern A/U with Bodhi and Cassian (actually the google doc is called “BODE” because I thought that was hilarious: 

“Well,” Chirrut said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’m blind, so my categories are a little different.”

“Oh, you’re blind,” Bodhi said. “I wasn’t sure, I thought maybe you just hated sunglasses.” He kept his tone noncommittal, but Chirrut grinned at him.

“Baze hates it when I make jokes about that,” he said. “He’s a tender soul, you know. I have to bait him to keep him tough. It’s a crucial component of our relationship.”

“He, he looks very, yes, tender is what I would say,” Bodhi said. “Out of all the adjectives in the English language that’s what I’d pick, for him.”

“He has a very tender heart,” Chirrut said. “Things move him very deeply. Sometimes I wish I could protect him from the harshness of the world, but that’s not my role.” They reached the top of the stairs, and Chirrut reached out and put his hand against Bodhi’s chest, feeling for his shoulder so he could grab his arm. Normally Bodhi wouldn’t like being touched like that, but Chirrut was so graceful about it that he just let it happen. “Do you have time to stop in for a cup of tea? Baze is traveling for work and he made me promise I’d have a real conversation in person with someone before he came back.”

“Sure,” Bodhi said, “I’d love to.”

People didn’t drink tea around here, not the way he’d grown up doing. They’d bring you a cup of lukewarm water and a box of teabags in paper wrappings yellowed with age, and never any milk or sugar, and like half the time the teabags were all weird herbal flavors without caffeine. Bodhi had started drinking coffee out of sheer self-defense. It hadn’t been an easy transition but at least he’d managed to intensify his caffeine addiction to disgusting levels.

Promisingly, Chirrut had an electric kettle. His apartment looked much like Bodhi’s, in layout at least, but it was clearly long-occupied; the walls were painted, there was all kinds of art on the wall, the furniture was carefully arranged. “Oh, there’s a light switch on the wall to the left,” Chirrut said. “I don’t know if it’s too dim in here; adjust the lighting to your preference, because of course I don’t care.”

“The sun is going down,” Bodhi said, and switched the light on, and with the light on he could see that there was a carpet in the middle of the sitting room floor, brightly-colored, extending just a little ways past the edges of the coffee table. Chirrut walked outdoors with a stick, not to lean on but to sweep for obstacles, but he’d set it aside when he came inside. Now Bodhi could see that there were a lot of little carpets, here and there, and clearly they were partly decorative and partly functional as soft navigation aids for Chirrut, who would be able to feel them with his feet and know where he was precisely in the room.

But the telling detail, Bodhi thought, was that they were all different, clearly not all acquired at the same time, and yet all complementary, in harmony with the colors and designs of the other things in the room. Someone with an eye for design had furnished this whole place to be not only as beautiful as a cheap apartment in a cruddy building could be, but also as comfortable as possible for a blind man.

A lot of the art on the walls was textile, too– soft things that you could brush your fingers against without dislodging them like you would a wooden or metal picture frame. It was all designed to be bumped into.

True North

Jan. 12th, 2017 01:04 pm
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Alternate link to AO3

Chirrut’s face is blank when he’s told the news. Baze can’t detect any hint of emotion on his usually mobile features. Irreversible. Permanent blindness within six months. No known cure. The healer trails awkwardly to a stop and hesitates, glancing at Baze for his cue.

Baze shifts his weight. “Chirrut?”

“All is as the Force wills it,” Chirrut says, and rises. “Thank you, Master T’ron.”

He turns and is gone before the healer can reply, robes swishing in finality.

Baze gives the healer an awkward nod and scrambles to catch up. “Chirrut, wait.”

Chirrut glances at him when Baze falls in step beside him. His eyes are cloudier these days, the cataracts advancing ever more rapidly, it seems, but Chirrut’s feet are still quick and unhesitating, his stride as confident as ever.

“We have lessons,” he says when Baze can’t think of anything to fill the silence.

“But—don’t you want to—” Baze hesitates. Grieve? Mourn your loss? You’re going blind, Chirrut!

Chirrut’s face shutters. “I want to go to class.”

He quickens his steps and Baze gets the message.

Keep reading
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nichestars replied to your post “time for a snippet-o-rama because i am feeling gross that i can’t…”

I’m excited for every single one of these but I’m not going to lie, Yavin4some is my favorite – not even for the RIDICULOUSLY HOT AMAZINGNESS but Bc THAT PUN IS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD

I mean. Is it really a pun? I don’t know. I just. I don’t know.

Don’t get me wrong I’ll definitely refer to it as that and I’ll put it right in the summary but I think I gotta come up with an artsy title. If all my years in fandom have taught me one thing it’s that if you’re going to have a story that is seven thousand words and counting of pure unadulterated unabashed hardcore smut, you really need a title that’s deceptively artsy, preferably uncapitalized and about eight words long. 

(How is this fucking thing seven thousand words long, nobody’s even ejaculated on anyone’s face yet)

(just kidding I don’t think there’s going to be any face-ejaculation this ain’t that kind of story) (not that there aren’t going to be all kinds of body fluids) (a cornucopia of body fluids and orgasms) (a garden of orgiastic delights) (whatever)

… If I am known for one thing in this world, I’d love for it to be emotionally-meaningful and occasionally tender extremely nasty orgy scenes. 

Actually the Big Deal Reconciliation Threesome in the Epic Epilogue is coming out really sweet and non-explicit and inexplicably nice, so I don’t really know where to go with that. I was going to put an excerpt here but there’s just– it’s not– I don’t think I’ve even used the word “cock” once, it’s all feelings and sensations and emotions and people are crying and laughing and coming all over the place, I just can’t muster the– whatever it is you gotta muster– to write it nasty. Maybe it’s Finn; I can only sometimes write nasty sex scenes with him, I have this drive to swaddle him in wonder instead. If he was going to ejaculate on someone’s face he would do it so tenderly, so beautifully, that it just sort of… I’m not saying I wouldn’t write a scene with that but it’s not coming to me at the moment, heh heh. I didn’t mean to make that a pun but it just sort of happened and I’m leaving it. 

On second thought maybe I will just post that fucking thing as The Yavin Foursome because I never was very good at following prevailing fashions. 

anhamirak replied to your post “time for a snippet-o-rama because i am feeling gross that i can’t…”

yavin4some is a great title???

See there’s another vote. You people. Enablers. 
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@aimmyarrowshigh replied to your post “i like the IDEA of kes being kidnapped by the first order being the…”

Kes is basically a sweet and thoughtful Space Bear Grylls. Runyip Grylls Dameron.

Yessssssssss soft & strong post-war Kes Dameron. Farmer’s Market Hot Kes Dameron. Kes Dameron, noted war hero, hangin’ out on the ranch, raising chickens and growing melons and taking long nature walks into the complicated & deadly wildlife of Yavin IV. Making friends with the woolamanders and what not.

Also, calling Poe once a week and always managing to have it go down like the “where are you? it’s very loud there” commercial. Kes Dameron Is A Good Dad.
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Here’s the text of the message I sent to Ted Cruz and John Cornyn. Their stances are basically the same, so they got the same one, with a few minor variations based on how my fury surged while I was on the phone.


The Constitution grants citizens a right to LIFE. The Senate has just voted to eliminate that right for people who cannot afford the arbitrary, unnegotiated prices insurance companies place on chronic treatments. Life was, before the ACA, and will again be the privilege of the rich in this country. Failure to provide basic medical care to citizens is unconstitutional.

I believe the right to life is most affordable when negotiated on a large scale by the government. I want a single payer system in the US that follows the model established by the rest of the developed world.

In the absence of a more efficient single payer system, the ACA meets the bare minimum of the constitutional right to life by preventing insurance companies from placing lifetime limits on care and refusing to insure chronic conditions, however minor.

Because of the ACA, I have been able to start my own business and even employ other people. I make more money and pay a great deal more in taxes than I did while working for someone else. In purely mercenary terms, I am a more productive citizen than I was without the ACA.

Moreover, starting my own business has made me a happier person and given me the flexibility to schedule time with my young son. The ACA has therefore doubly served me by granting my right to pursue happiness.

I do not believe that the value of people’s lives is solely mercenary, or that a monetary limit can be placed on the amount of care required to keep people alive. Republicans seem to believe that their government fulfills its duty by defending us from outside threats, and that they have no obligation to take care of citizens within our borders. They are wrong. I will never vote for a representative who thinks it’s more important to arm ourselves to the teeth rather than provide basic medical services at home, but the Senator ha shown exactly that in his budget priorities.

The Senator’s pro-life stance appears to apply only to fetuses, not his constituents. Repealing this law will kill people. I am disgusted by the vote that was taken last night.


Here are the phone numbers for Ted Cruz’s regional offices: http://ift.tt/2jbDdTt and D.C.: 202-224-5922

Here are John Cornyn’s regional office phone numbers: http://ift.tt/1Td5N2M and D.C.: 202-224-2934

Give ‘em hell.
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This is a novella, coming out in ebook and paperback on May 2, from Tor.com Publishing. The cover art is by Jaime Jones. There are preorder links on my web site here: http://ift.tt/2jI7ytx
And here’s an excerpt:Chapter One
I could have become a mass murderer after I hacked my governor module, but then I realized I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites. It had been well over 35,000 hours or so since then, with still not much murdering, but probably, I don’t know, a little under 35,000 hours of movies, serials, books, plays, and music consumed. As a heartless killing machine, I was a terrible failure.
I was also still doing my job, on a new contract, and hoping Dr. Volescu and Dr. Bharadwaj finished their survey soon so we could get back to the habitat and I could watch episode 397 of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.
I admit I was distracted. It was a boring contract so far and I was thinking about backburnering the status alert channel and trying to access music on the entertainment feed without HubSystem logging the extra activity. It was trickier to do it in the field than it was in the habitat.
This assessment zone was a barren stretch of coastal island, with low, flat hills rising and falling and thick greenish-black grass up to my ankles, not much in the way of flora or fauna, except a bunch of different sized bird-like things and some puffy floaty things that were harmless as far as we knew. The coast was dotted with big bare craters, one of which Bharadwaj and Volescu were taking samples in. The planet had a ring, which from our current position dominated the horizon when you looked out to sea. I was looking at the sky and mentally poking at the feed when the bottom of the crater exploded.
I didn’t bother to make a verbal emergency call. I sent the visual feed from my field camera to Dr. Mensah’s, and jumped down into the crater. As I scrambled down the sandy slope, I could already hear Mensah over the emergency comm channel, yelling at someone to get the hopper in the air now. They were about ten kilos away, working on another part of the island, so there was no way they were going to get here in time to help.
Conflicting commands filled my feed but I didn’t pay attention. Even if I hadn’t borked my own governor module, the emergency feed took priority, and it was chaotic too, with the automated HubSystem wanting data and trying to send me data I didn’t need yet and Mensah sending me telemetry from the hopper. Which I also didn’t need, but it was easier to ignore than HubSystem simultaneously demanding answers and trying to supply them.
In the middle of all that, I hit the bottom of the crater. I have small energy weapons built into both arms, but the one I went for was the big projectile weapon clamped to my back. The hostile that had just exploded up out of the ground had a really big mouth, so I felt I needed a really big gun.

Keep reading
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What kind of anti-intellectual crap is this? …
I’m pretty sure whoever did the wall quotes for Pi Craft probably should have had them copy-edited. But I think you’re not meant to read them.
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Check out my kitbashed K2SO! This one was a lot of fun to make! I started with the Star Wars Black Series K2SO toy, painted it with a few layers to make him look weathered, then wrapped his hands in tape, painted those too, added reflective stickers to his eyes, added the belt, leather cloak, and a hat made of sculpey and there you have it!

Reblog it! Share with pals!



This fucking rules.





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