A little spin-off to the main series, inspired by Mr-Henjin’s comment, haha. Thanks for supporting this story! In the end, I decided that this episode deserved its own post =D


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Spin-off for this part


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Settling in front of her laptop screen and wrapping herself in a soft blanket, Emma started playing an old recording of Star Wars. She had wanted to rewatch the original trilogy for a long time to distract herself from the whirlwind of events in her life. The familiar opening with the words “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...” slowly scrolled across the screen. Emma felt a small pang of nostalgia. It was as if she were Mark again, sitting on a leather couch in his bachelor pad, a beer in one hand and a remote in the other.

But now, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of herbal tea on the table, she was far removed from that scene. The screen lit up, familiar images filled the room, but as soon as Princess Leia appeared with her iconic bun hairstyle, Emma smirked faintly, recalling Jessica’s words: “Princess Emma from a galaxy far, far away...”

— "Of course, 'Princess Emma,'" she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes, though the smile stayed on her face. It sounded ridiculous, yet the image in her head began to unfold: herself, in Leia’s white dress, blasters in hand, leading the rebel troops. The thought of cosplaying that outfit someday suddenly seemed both intriguing and... strange. Emma felt her body tense under the blanket. She shivered, acutely aware of her breasts, which now felt heavier and more noticeable, as if reminding her of their presence.

She tried to focus on the plot, but every time Leia appeared on screen, she felt a strange unease. It wasn’t like before—when Leia had simply been an iconic heroine. Now, Leia’s appearances for some reason made her feel her own body much more intensely, especially those... new curves.

— "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself, pulling the blanket tighter as if it could somehow hide how she looked now with all these recent changes.

When the scene of Leia in the golden bikini at Jabba the Hutt’s lair came on, Emma tensed. Her gaze lingered involuntarily on the shiny outfit, the chain adorning Leia’s neck. An absurd image suddenly popped into her head: herself in that costume. Her breasts, clearly larger than Leia’s, barely fitting into the narrow top. Her hips too wide, with the golden strips of fabric digging into her skin, accentuating her body’s curves. The image was so vivid that Emma almost physically felt the cold metal of the collar against her neck and the rigid, uncomfortable squeeze of the metallic bra against her chest. She shuddered, shaking the thoughts from her mind.

— "Ugh, enough..." Emma exhaled loudly, feeling her cheeks flush. She took a deep breath, trying to banish all these thoughts.

Her gaze returned to the screen. Leia, still in that outfit, stood before Jabba, captive yet proud. Emma tried to focus on the film, reminding herself it was just fiction, a classic scene from a cult movie. Her imagination, however, ran wilder as she recalled an interview with Carrie Fisher where the actress spoke about her experience filming in that costume.

The actress had talked about how uncomfortable the costume was. Fisher openly described how the gold dug into her body, how the chain pressed against her neck, and how she had to endure it all stoically for the sake of the role.

Emma tried to push away the intrusive thoughts but suddenly remembered another part of the same interview. Fisher had recounted, with a wry smile, how, after the film’s release, a teenage boy had approached her at an autograph signing and proudly declared, “I jerked off to you, Miss Fisher!” The actress joked about it, but there was a bitterness in her words. The memory made Emma shiver.

She imagined herself in that costume, on set, surrounded by the crew—men, cameras, lights. All eyes fixed on her, not because she was playing a heroic role but because of her body, barely covered by golden strips. Her imagination conjured new scenes: the spotlight on her breasts, assistants adjusting the costume while avoiding her gaze, and the director trying to convince her it was all for the sake of art. A few more moments, and she could almost hear teenagers whispering in the theater during the premiere, their eyes glued to the screen.

— "Damn you, Jessica!" Emma cursed out loud, abruptly shutting off the movie. The screen went dark, and the room sank into a soft twilight.