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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. 
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“We have upgraded our collective databanks with additional information but it remains unclear,” BB-8 said, and projected a little hologram of–

“BB!” Poe said. “Where did you guys get porn?” This was what came of leaving the astromechs unattended together overnight in the hangar every night.

“Where didn’t they get it,” Pava said, tilting her head to get a better view of the hologram.

“Stop that,” Poe said, peering out from between his fingers, “that’s in poor taste. You can’t get real information from porn, it’s fictional, we’ve been over fiction, I know you know what it is.”

“Fictional,” BB-8 said, astonished. “This is fictional?” Ey sounded indignant, like perhaps ey felt ey’d been lied to.

“Nobody really fucks like that,” Poe said. 

“I wouldn’t know,” BB said a little accusingly, “you never let me watch and anyway, you never do it, which is the entire point of this discussion. Clearly humans would not be so obsessed with this thing if it was not necessary?”

Poe grimaced. “Could you turn that off please?”

“Ew,” Pava said, turning her head the other way as the view shifted.

BB-8 finally turned the holo off. “Necessary,” ey insisted.

“No,” Poe said, “it’s really not. Some people don’t even like it at all.”

“You do though!” BB-8 insisted.

Poe looked over at Pava for support. “Do you let your astromech watch you fuck?” he asked. “I feel like that would be really inappropriate, but is that hopelessly old-fashioned of me?”

“I do not let my astromech watch me fuck,” Pava agreed. “That is not old-fashioned, that is just having healthy personal boundaries. But BB’s right, if you’re a person who likes sex, it’s good to have it.”

“I am never going to hear the end of this,” Poe realized, looking at the curling corner of Pava’s mouth.

“Nope,” she said, popping the P, and got up.

“Jacket Thief would likely let you put your extensions in his ports,” BB-8 said to Poe, very earnest now.

“I don’t know who that is but it sounds like a great idea,” Pava said.

BB-8 refused to use any other name besides Jacket Thief for Finn. Poe covered his eyes with his hand again. “I do not think Jacket Thief wants my extensions in his ports.”

“Everyone wants your extensions in their ports,” Pava said. “That’s like. A universal truth of the Resistance. Everyone wants Poe Dameron to put his extensions in their ports.”

“I am never going to hear the end of this,” Poe said, haunted.

“Nope!” Pava said cheerfully, and walked away.

From the WIP. Currently standing at 47k. More thoughts next post. 
via http://ift.tt/1RNb6FD:to the sky without wings - leupagus - Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens - Shattered Empire, Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens [Archive of Our Own]:

Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens - Shattered Empire, Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Additional Tags: Pre-Canon
Summary:

Poe dreams of a blue-green tree.

This is a phenomenal work, that just completed. Hear me out: it’s Luke Skywalker/Poe Dameron, and it’s good. Wait, you say, isn’t Luke, like, way older than Poe, and also like, you know, the Last Jedi? 

Yes. And that shit is so not my scene I cannot even tell you. But this? This is how you do a May/December with a power imbalance. Beyond that, this is how you tell a story about The Last Jedi, who is also authentically Luke Skywalker, Farm Boy and giant fukkin nerdlord. 

Listen: you need to read this. I would excerpt my favorite bit as a pull-quote, but I can’t. There’s too much. It’s just the whole goddamn story. It’s funny, it’s heartbreaking, it’s everything I never knew I wanted. 

I’ll give you a funny pull-quote, but it doesn’t do it justice. 

“I give you my word of honor,” Poe says, crouching down to look straight into its lens, “I’m gonna come back down and turn you back on myself when this is all over, deal?” He sticks out his hand.

BB-8 looks at his face, then his hand, then his face again, and finally sticks out its connection plug. Poe clasps it and —“Ow!” he yells, jerking his hand back.

“Blood pact,” BB-8 says cheerfully.

“Okay, I’m also shutting you down myself,” Poe mutters, and reaches for the switch. BB-8 chuckles to itself, pleased, before the light goes dim.

Also I only just noticed that it’s in present tense, so what that says about either me or it, I don’t know.

A fun game to play: when I finally post something from this ‘verse, you can try to spot all of the headcanon shit I just totally absorbed from this fic and completely forgot that I did so. I bet you there’ll be a lot. That’s how vivid the worldbuilding is. This fic is a large part of why I even decided I was interested.

I have no idea where I first saw this rec, but thank you.
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I was tagged by @popkin16 in that WIP meme. What is it? Go to your current WIP and go to page 7 and go down 7 lines and copy over 7 sentences or so? Then it wants you to tag people which is how these continue but I have no idea how to know which of the people I follow are actually into this sort of thing, which is unsurprising given that Tumblr doesn’t actually really allow you to interact with your dashboard except by copying it? so uh? anyway? 

If you read these entries and you write, and you have a WIP, I am serious, consider yourself tagged if that is relevant to your situation. Because I don’t know how else to figure out how to tag someone.

But! Anyway, less crankily: This is my Sooper Seekrit project  (WITH ART!) with @artgroves that has like eaten my brain, and that y’all got the first peek at yesterday, and I’m only doing this because the page in question is hilarious for this. (And on GDocs there are pages; on Scrivener, there aren’t.)

You get ten sentences.

Finn had known there was a New Republican Academy and that most of the soldiers in the Fleet had been trained there, but he had sort of absent-mindedly assumed it was much like the various facilities that had trained him, and it was really startling to sift through the information holopacket the General had almost absent-mindedly dropped in front of him.

Recruitment materials, course curricula, write-ups in media, and so on were fine and dandy; Finn picked up that people didn’t go to these Academies until they were nearly grown, and still maintained contact with their families, and still had a lot of individual freedom. But the real treasure was when he flipped to a folder full of candid holos labeled “student life”, and it was just all short holovids and still holopics that students had mostly taken of one another.

The General was in the room, having a desultory discussion with various other officers whose names and faces Finn had already memorized, and going through briefing materials of her own, when he found it. There had been a number of holopics of students who were clearly off-duty and intoxicated, obviously celebrating; Finn gathered that this was condoned behavior, and facilitated the development of lifelong social bonds these soldiers would rely on in the future through their careers (some of that rationale was hinted at in the written materials, while some, Finn had had to infer). This holopic was of a young student, male, shirtless, on a table with a bottle– and it took Finn a long moment of admiring the student’s slender, arching torso, curving red mouth wrapped appealingly around the bottle’s neck, and dark, promising eyes before he recognized it.

“Holy shit,” he said, startled into speaking out loud.

The General laughed immediately, turning. “I was waiting for you to find that,” she said. 

Yes, it’s the same pic that I described of Poe from the video thing yesterday, hush. Yes yes I know, I’m being elliptical and telling the same bit of story over and over, but I just have this fascination with the role of media in storytelling and like, it’s a problem. I know.

Also I clearly have a hankering for that to be the illustration for the thing but I wouldn’t even begin to know where to find a reference image for it. (Thanks, though, Bucky, I was thinking of this picture when I wrote it.)

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