#you picked well jill this is actually basically the cross-section of me as a writer

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wip meme: 6, 13, 20

6. the world, safe and sound for you

lmfao the shara bey backstory fic i will legit never finish bc ugh, star wars. some #commentary in this section you haven’t read before, at least:

“Your father’s an illegal merchant." 

“He’s unlicensed." 

“There’s a difference?" 

Shara sits back in her chair. It’s very uncomfortable but she thinks it adds to her air of casual nonchalance. “Of course." 

“How about a more neutral term, then. A smuggler." 

She narrows her eyes. “My father provides goods and communication between planets that the Empire has decided are without value. He doesn’t trade in drugs or weapons. His prices are fair and reasonable. You’ll find no complaints." 

The officer looks at his holopad; obviously, there have been complaints. “Tell me more about his business model." 

“Primarily barter based. We don’t have a lot of liquid assets, you understand. That makes things like licensing fees a little complicated." 

“Yes, not breaking the law can be so difficult,” he drawls. “What else?" 

“What do you mean, what else?" 

“I mean how else does your father make his living, aside from smuggling contraband?" 

Shara tries not to react. “I don’t know what you mean." 

“I think you do.

13. ok I’m about to spam you with prompts sorry friend: Finn/Poe Regency bc I am always thinking of that fan art John instagrammed

you prompted this! amongst many other prompts which I also started and then uhhhhh did not finish. But it’s basically my Belle (2013)/Portrait of a Lady on Fire Regency era finnpoe au mashup where Poe is hired to paint ~a portrait of the Han/Leia + Rey & Finn family on their fancy English estate. Their backstories are like, Finn was Luke’s son that was left with Han & Leia to raise after Luke died, and bc he’s black the family’s a little bit like 🤷🏻‍♀️ with regards to his prospects but he has $$$ from Luke’s inheritance; and Poe was born in colonial Guatemala but when he was little there was some Spanish artist guy commissioned to paint the flora and fauna of the New World and bb!Poe had some talent for that kind of stuff so he got apprenticed to painter guy and taken away to Spain to become an artist and it’s all very tragic BUT ANYWAY i love coming up with historical fiction plots and then NEVER WRITING THEM. I don’t think I’ve shared this part of it before?

“Will you marry for love as well?" 

Finn shook his head. “I doubt I’ll marry at all, Mr. Dameron." 

Poe glanced at him. “Why?" 

Finn looked at him, long and incredulous. “Even if there were a family — a proper family — willing, for the name, and the money, if naught else — a child from that union — what life would it have?" 

“Nonsense,” Poe said. “I was born of such a union." 

Finn stopped short. “Were you?" 

Poe nodded. “My father is Spanish. My mother was not.” 

“And you…” Admit it. Advertise it. You needn’t, but you do. 

“I take pride in it. As should you." 

“It’s different for me.” 

“I know,” he said, low and sad, as if he did. Glanced over at Finn again, and hesitated for a moment. “I will…likely remain a bachelor, as well." 

“Why?” Finn said, sudden and thoughtless: it was none of his business, terribly presumptuous of him. Poe did not seem to notice his embarrassment, and merely shrugged. 

“It’s an unpredictable life,” he said, not quite meeting Finn’s gaze. “Living commission to commission. I wouldn’t want to try and raise a family on it, or burden anyone else with it. One could not live on paint alone, after all." 

“Not for long, at least.” 

Poe laughed at that, shaking his head. “Indeed not." 

“I must apologize, Mr. Dameron." 

Poe’s brow furrowed, and he cocked his head in genuine confusion. “What for?" 

“To speak to you so, with such—candor.” It was unbecoming, Finn knew: Poe had no reason to listen, no reason to care about Finn’s fears, about the uncertainty of his position. 

“Think nothing of it,” said Poe, waving his hand as if to shoo away the suggestion. “People often speak to me that way. I’ve that sort of face." 

“The handsome sort?” he found himself saying, and resisted the temptation to compound the indignity by slapping his hand over his mouth. Stood, instead, with his shoulders inching up to his ears and his hands in fists by his side. 

Dameron, at least, did not seem to take terrible offense. “If you say so,” he said, smiling. “Perhaps I should’ve been a spy." 

“Perhaps you still could be.” 

Poe laughed at that, shaking his head. Turned to look at Finn again, as if to ask another question, and Finn leapt at the chance to forestall him. 

“And what of you, Mr. Dameron? A bless’d childhood of your own?"

20. when the leather runs smooth on the passenger’s seat

oh lol this is a john and chas fuck in the cab fic, the title’s from The Smiths’ “This Charming Man.” I mean WHAT else can i say about that except that it’s hard to come up with a position that would work given uhhhhh how tall Chas is, which is why I never get any further than the blowjobs when I try to write a version of it:

"Who indeed," John says, rubbing the inside of his thigh against Chas's ribs, running his fingers lazily through Chas's thick hair. 

Chas lets out an amused huff. "Did you want something else?" 

John arches his back, stretching contentedly over the leather seat. “Dunno,” he drawls. “What else’ve you got?" 

Chas throws him the usual indulgent smile, but there's a softness in his eyes that John's too satisfied to worry about. He crawls up along John's body carefully, knees digging into the seat on both sides of John's waist. His kiss is just as carefully, gentle even after John opens his mouth to it and sucks at his tongue. Chas tastes, unsurprisingly, of spit and come. John wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him closer.