via Out In The Wind - bomberqueen17 - Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015) [Archive of Our Own]:
Chapters: 1/1Fandom: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)Rating: ExplicitWarnings: No Archive Warnings ApplyRelationships: Poe Dameron/Finn, BB-8 & Poe DameronCharacters: Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars), Leia Organa, Kalonia (Star Wars), Iolo Arana, Ello Asty, Pamich Nerro, Kes Dameron, Karé Kun, Jessika Pava, Bastian (Star Wars), OCsAdditional Tags: Angst and Humor, poe dameron’s hair, (the hair symbolizes things), Bros to lovers, Platonic bed sharing, Spivak Pronouns, agender BB-8, Mutual Pining, miscommunications, Poe Dameron hurts so pretty, Poe Dameron: Space Latino, finn is very brave, stormtrooper recovery, no longer platonic bedsharingSummary:

Poe gave up a lot of things when he defected to the Resistance, but there’s always more to lose. War is an expensive lifestyle. You’ve got to keep your affairs in order and do the best you can with what you have. He owes this former Stormtrooper a life-debt, and beyond that he knows the kid’s exceptional, so he’s going to do everything he can to get the kid a fair start in this messy business.Finn wakes up and has no idea what to do beyond joining the Resistance, but he knows he’s got to keep up with Poe somehow.

BB-8 really just thinks the two of them should go ahead and do that thing that biological organisms seem to spend so much time thinking about where they rub themselves on each other, already, because clearly that needs to happen.
… I’m one exposition/action scene, one wrap-up scene, and one sex scene away from finishing the novel affectionately known as The Novel Nobody Asked For.
It’s called that because @albymangroves offered to draw a picture if I wrote a story and I set out to do a nice juicy 10k porn-and-hurt/comfort that I figured would really go 25k, and then it. Just. Didn’t. Stop.
So it’s not that nobody wanted this thing, it’s just that nobody asked for a damn novel, but it sure is one.
It’s about 150k words. And 100k of it is out with beta-readers, which I never do and am pumped about.

I just. Might actually. FINISH IT! OMG.

I mean. Not this minute. But it’s in sight.
I saw this when it was going around and then can’t find it again, but it was a Work-In-Progress Guessing Game and the whole game was just that you could send an ask with a word, and I’d respond with the sentence it appeared in, in my WIP.

In this case, though, since I have about eleventy-billion WIPs, you should specify whether you care which WIP. 

The list of works I still consider In-Progress:

The Star Wars Thing (Finn/Poe, OT3-ward leanings, and like 120k to pick from)
Subcategory: the Hoe/Pux thing (10k words of Poe and Hux being assholes to each other)

FOG and related– yes, I promised at least one Steve/Bucky/Natasha scene, and it’s still technically in-progress

Choice Is Not A Word A Bullet Knows and related: parts still in-progress include Facepunch and the resolution to the Peggy arc I solidified in Guts)

and yes, yes, yes, neither of the two SG:A verses are officially moribund. Two-Body Problem and Other Stuff are still both things I have active projects in, though they progress very, very, very slowly. 

If you don’t specify, I will pick whatever I’m most excited about the result of a cursory search in! 

If nobody sends me anything I will take it as some kind of sign. But don’t be shy. I like talking about myself sometimes. You can also send me asks about other things. That would be okay too.
I can’t name The Novel Nobody Asked for after a Bob Dylan song, can I?

Is that– is that Peak Hipster?


Mar. 1st, 2016 03:38 am
On the topic of hair… 

I have never had curly hair. I used to want it, in a grass-is-greener kind of way. So I had a perm in the 80s, as was often the done thing in those times, and pretty instantly realized that curly hair is terrible. I looked like a poodle. I didn’t brush it. It was terrible. (I was, I believe, nine.)

When I write, themes kind of just– happen. Sometimes I set out to write them. Usually I don’t. Often I’m aware of them as I’m writing. I keep bringing this up, I think to myself, so I look for it more.

Sometimes details pop up repeatedly. Sometimes that’s significant, sometimes it’s my brain going in circles. (The last thing I had beta’d before this current project was a Tolkien fic a decade ago, yes I know, Glorfindel/Ecthelion First Age stuff, not even technically Silm– Gondolin, HoME canon, I know! And it was an account of the Fall of Gondolin, and one of the themes was teeth, accidentally. My beta kept pointing them out and I kept excising them because I couldn’t make it work, thematically. I just was– always mentioning people’s teeth. It was weird.)(It’s on AO3, incidentally, sans teeth. I think I got it down to one or two mentions. Revisiting that makes me feel so very old. I don’t… remember writing like that.) 

In this one it’s Poe’s hair. It just kept happening. Things happening to it, him doing things with it. I have no intrinsic feelings about hair. But Poe had feelings about his hair, clearly. And thus, so do I.

In the end I realized that it was his feelings about his ethnicity, on some level– careful control of his appearance was one of the ways he managed in a world where he frequently had to deal with low-level, not-particularly-malicious, but grating racism. The texture of his hair would affect how he was perceived on many levels. And possibly the most important part would be that he was not seen to make a great deal of effort– and in a military lifestyle where privacy is not guaranteed, this would entail strategy and coordination. His effortless charm clearly has a lot of effort behind it. 

I don’t know anything about curly hair, though. So I just did, like, a Google search. 

(I’ve had to do more than a Google search about ethnicity. I know that takes a lot more research. And like, asking people. Because I don’t know. Rest assured, I’m not just making that up as I go.)

I’m trying to come up with a title for this thing now, because I’ve got 100k of it done and out for beta and am just trying to find the conclusion. I managed to sit down and write a summary of it, and that’s something. I still don’t know what it’s about. Except that a little bit of it is about Poe’s hair.
I spent all of today editing. Like, well, like a lot of today editing. I did. I was good. I worked hard. I’m like. I’m most of the way through the bit that I sent out to betas. 

I’m sort of torn– I’m really bad at getting stuff beta-read. Should I send the revised section out again? Should I just give any of the readers who are still willing to read the next bit, since they’ve already slogged through the first 50k, and I’ve done some alteration of the first part but nothing enormously substantive? But it seems like– making them read it again– 

I don’t know. People who write really long stuff, help! What is the etiquette? I’ve added about 2k words to the 50k first section. So like– not a huge change, but there’s been some expansion of points and some re-jiggering of characterization and backstory. 

It’s an enormous luxury to have beta-readers at all, and I’ve no idea how one goes about making that a pleasant experience for the readers. 

I sort of don’t want to just paste the next 50k in after the first part, because that’s like, way too huge a document. 

Also I should probably start thinking about a title and about chapter divisions and I just, I don’t know, that is definitely not my specialty. Hoo boy. 

I know, I was going to finish it before I started editing it but I just really felt like it was time to make another pass through the beginning. It seemed like a good idea to remind myself what the story started out being about. (And my first thought was that I was going to make it be like, 12k words long. HA HA HA isn’t that hilarious?)

Finn hailed the destroyer. “I know you think you got me where you want me,” he said. “But you should know who you’re dealing with.” He activated the video part of the comm link, and was rewarded with the sight of a colonel he’d worked with before. “Ah, Colonel Narrix. You knew me as FN-2187, if you ever noticed me at all. I don’t expect you did.”

“FN,” the colonel said slowly, frowning in puzzlement. His mouth started to from the two.

“I go by Finn now,” Finn interrupted, grinning. “And I’m in charge. Ask Captain Phasma, if she made it off the Starkiller.”

The colonel’s expression changed, going closed-off and grim. “She did,” he said. “I know who you are. I don’t think we’re going to bother trying to recapture this base.”

“Before you get too trigger-happy,” Finn said, “I think you should know, I was expecting you. You should perhaps re-check your proximity sensors.”
Mmm going by my emails, Friday marked one month since I decided to write this novel that nobody asked for. (I’d had an ask I’d answered, I think an anon one, where I’d said I was interested in the dynamic but didn’t need another epic. But Alby mentioned, as part of another convo, that she’d love to draw something. And so on 1/6 I banged out a summary. I was hoping for a 20k word story but you know I don’t play like that, baby.)

I’m at about 100k words. Part 1 is 50k and is out with betas, and has been for two weeks. Part 2 just surpassed 50k on Friday, before I left to come out here. 

Part of writing is that you uncover themes in your own work. You sometimes set out to say certain things, and I knew I had a couple points to make about found family and self-discovery and what not. But mostly, I tend to get surprised by stuff. 

Hilariously, Part 2 of this story at least seems to mostly be about inappropriately-honest motivational speeches. 

1) R2 tells Rey that their lack of a plan is an excellent guarantee of its success

2) Leia Organa tells Finn that pure seething rage is actually an excellent tool against the Dark Side if you’re committed enough, and also promises him that if he gets killed she’ll avenge him personally

3) Rey gives a comforting speech to Poe in which she tells him she’s not here to cheer him up she’s here to save the fucking day and he needs to suck it up buttercup and get saved (improbably, he actually *does* find this comforting)

4) “Your discipline is fucking terrible,” Finn said. “And I don’t mean your following orders. I mean your mental discipline. You need to focus, all right? All of you! You need to focus. You need to ground yourself in your mission. You have your orders, you have your task. There’s no fucking sightseeing on missions like that.”

I still don’t have an ending though. 
I wrote this bit and I was like LOL self, that’s so fucking stupid, that’s totally not going to make the final draft. But I kind of. I can’t make myself delete it. It’s like. It’s my ship manifesto. It’s the clearest vision I had of what it’s like to be a Stormtrooper. (OK, this, and the snuggle barracks bench from the French & Indian War-era fort near my house, where it’s just a six-foot-wide bench along the wall that everyone sleeps on, and Stormtroopers are totally used to that. A snugglier form of space travel.)

IDK. Finn has no personal boundaries. This is my most enduring headcanon. 

“So this is really weird for you people, huh?” Finn asked, when he figured enough time had passed.

“We really don’t shit socially,” Poe said. “It’s not just me being a prude. We’re pretty much all gonna think it’s weird.”

“Huh,” Finn said. He looked around. “So I’ve had to learn a lot of new stuff here, and I think this? This might be the weirdest thing. It’s a bodily function! It’s a thing literally everyone does! Why do you have to go do it secretly?”

“It’s probably the most intensely private thing we do,” Poe said. “Nudity, most of us get over that. Sex, whatever. But I don’t think I’ve ever in my life been in the same room as another adult while taking a crap.”

Finn thought about it a moment. “Babies, though! They just shit themselves all the time, don’t tell me that freaks you people out?”

“Oh, fuck me,” Poe said, “you just made me think about the fact that Leia fucking Organa has changed my shitty diapers in my life, and a big part of what I do here in the Resistance is avoid thinking about that.” He was laughing helplessly again.

“I can’t help what I do,” Finn said, amused. “I mean, I guess that gives me context, though. She has dealt with your literal shit, and you’d die for her. That’s a hell of a bond.”

“That’s not why,” Poe said, indignant but also possibly dying of laughter.

“No, no,” Finn said, “that’s totally it. The shit-bond. It’s sacred to your people. I get it now.”
god help me why am i wondering about the sanitary facilities on x-wings? and the probable side effects of the stimulants you’d have to take for a multi-day mission, and how you’d definitely experience GI side effects? 

“So um.” Finn had not contemplated the logistics of being in an X-Wing for more than a few hours. He knew they wore compression gear under the flight suits, to keep circulation to their extremities even without gravity. But he hadn’t really thought about anything beyond that.

“There’s no lavatory,” Poe said. “You gotta wear a piss bag. It’s not as glamorous as it looks in the holos.”

“Four days,” Finn said.

“You don’t want to know what my digestive system’s like after all these years,” Poe said. “I don’t know that I really want to have this conversation in the nominal presence of food.”

“Holy shit,” Finn said.

“It’s really not,” Poe said.


Poe grabbed one of Finn’s hands with both of his, and his hands were freezing cold and shaking. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay, man. I do this a lot. It’s– I’ll let you know if anything happens that isn’t totally normal. I’m gonna– I’m gonna go to the shitter now. You can go on about your day. If you want, come check on me in like an hour. I might have passed out in there. Okay?”

“I could come with you,” Finn said.

 “You don’t want to be anywhere near this when it happens,” Poe said. “It’s sweet of you to offer.”

“I’m a stormtrooper,” Finn reminded him, “we have literally no notion of privacy. I cannot tell you how weird it is for me to go into a room by myself to shit. I’m used to doing that socially. We had, like, schedules.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Poe said, giggling helplessly. “Oh– oh no, don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m dead fucking serious,” Finn said. “If you want me to come hold your hand while you take a monster shit that is not in any way weird to me and it weirds me the fuck out that it is to you. Stormtroopers never went through that shit alone. Literally. You were never alone.”

“Shit,” Poe said, “if you make me laugh any more I’m not going to make it.”

Finn stood up and held out his hand. “I will get you there,” he said. 
i am aloooooone

in a dark rooooooom

writing this thinnnnnng

and i want to finish ittttt

but i don’t want to wriiiiiite it

*strums imaginary guitar furiously*



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