For allbingo
Apr. 27th, 2021 01:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: Why Does No One Talk About Oscar/Adam?
Summary: Writer Poe Dameron manages to write the ship he wanted, four years after the fact.
Prompt: Minimum Effort
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: This is part based on that MTV interview with JJ mentioning Darkpilot, part my wishful thinking.
It was four years later, and Poe was already sitting on the couch in his apartment with BB snuggled at his feet. He had to get the screenplay out for the new trilogy; it was set after Rise of Starkiller. It was supposed to fix things.
And now he was thinking about his previous comment, a comment made four years ago.
Why does no one talk about Oscar/Adam?
Four years ago, when they were doing interviews promoting the film. The Oscar/Adam shippers were surprisingly gracious about it, not as angry as the Daisy/Adam shippers though. The thing was that everyone was right, whether they enjoyed Rise of Starkiller or not. Poe had tried to justify it as narrative integrity. The truth was...
The truth was, he had been pressured to include the Daisy/Adam kiss. Even though he had agreed with that one guy, Daniel (Poe had only known him for a short time thanks to Daniel dying, but he had formed a bond with him. Him, who was a fan. Poe was always grateful to his fans), about Adam acting creepy towards Daisy in the interrogation scene. Even though, as much as he liked what Hux had done with The Last Jedi, he’d squirmed a little when Adam had said that Daisy, a scavenger, was nothing.
Poe had caved because he’d been secretly terrified that the Internet would go insane if he didn’t.
But Oscar/Adam...
He thought back to when he was advising Cassian, the actor who played Oscar, on the scene with him being captured by Kylo Ren. “Basically, Kylo has a history with you. You don’t know his identity; you’re mostly scared shitless by the fact there’s a masked guy in front of you. And you crack jokes. You try and relieve the tension.”
(Considering Cassian was not usually the wisecracking type — Jyn Erso, his girlfriend, had attested as much to that — that said volumes. Cassian could draw on his uncertainty and fear, at least)
The way that Cassian’s shots had looked...was that intentional?
***
“Why are you invested in Oscar and Adam anyway?” was Ben’s question. They were meeting at Poe’s apartment; it was 2023, and COVID restrictions were pretty much lifted.
“I don’t know,” Poe said. “I just had this whole backstory for them that didn’t make it in. The whole idea of them being childhood sweethearts...”
“You never really mentioned that to me!” Ben exclaimed. “You — Poe, why did you even include that Daisy/Adam kiss?”
“It wasn’t really a kiss kind of kiss,” Poe said. “She’s got a bit of a crush on him; I was building off of Hux’s set-up in the last movie. But...I justified it that way when I was trying to avoid people yelling at me.”
“So damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
Poe nodded.
“You could write out that story first,” Ben said. “You really could.”
***
Poe did. Ben was his muse, and there were times where Poe swore they were close enough to kiss. Even as Poe read select portions of his draft out loud, there was something about Ben’s gaze that let Poe know that Ben was hanging on his every word. The way he stared at Poe — God, sometimes Poe didn’t want Ben to stop looking at him like that.
Poe had turned off his Twitter notifications, while writing that book. It would have been tempting to take a leaf out of Finn’s book and quit Twitter altogether, but Poe found that, for better or worse, he couldn’t do it.
But he typed. Plotting out Oscar and Adam’s doomed romance, how they had grown up together, how Adam had helped Oscar when he needed it. (Even if that would never change the antis’ minds about Adam, it was a vital piece of storytelling, a reason why his parents would never give up on him besides him being their son)
He typed. Added a novelization of the interrogation scene, saying that Adam had been forced to torture Oscar. Added a bit at the end, where Adam came back.
“You’d need to split it into a series,” Ben said lightly, and Poe did laugh. Then, “Ben...I have to admit, after everything, it feels like you’re my Adam. The good Adam, I mean. You keep believing in me.”
“Do I need a reason why?” Ben said.
Poe could tell, in that moment, that Ben loved him. Poe was lucky, terribly lucky, that that was the case. When he loved Ben.
“Can I kiss you?” Poe said.
Ben smiled. “You can kiss me all you want.”
And so they kissed. So they did it.
***
Poe did split the book into a series, and after many revisions, the book Childhood’s Edge was published. Of course the Adam/Daisy shippers hated it for not living up to their expectations of Oscar and Adam being rivals over Daisy, of course the antis were selective in their interpretation of it. But even going on Twitter and seeing the grateful Tweets from Oscar/Adam fans and even a few non-shippers who just liked the idea of childhood friends...
It wasn’t going to be perfect, but it felt like absolution, soon enough.
Summary: Writer Poe Dameron manages to write the ship he wanted, four years after the fact.
Prompt: Minimum Effort
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: This is part based on that MTV interview with JJ mentioning Darkpilot, part my wishful thinking.
It was four years later, and Poe was already sitting on the couch in his apartment with BB snuggled at his feet. He had to get the screenplay out for the new trilogy; it was set after Rise of Starkiller. It was supposed to fix things.
And now he was thinking about his previous comment, a comment made four years ago.
Why does no one talk about Oscar/Adam?
Four years ago, when they were doing interviews promoting the film. The Oscar/Adam shippers were surprisingly gracious about it, not as angry as the Daisy/Adam shippers though. The thing was that everyone was right, whether they enjoyed Rise of Starkiller or not. Poe had tried to justify it as narrative integrity. The truth was...
The truth was, he had been pressured to include the Daisy/Adam kiss. Even though he had agreed with that one guy, Daniel (Poe had only known him for a short time thanks to Daniel dying, but he had formed a bond with him. Him, who was a fan. Poe was always grateful to his fans), about Adam acting creepy towards Daisy in the interrogation scene. Even though, as much as he liked what Hux had done with The Last Jedi, he’d squirmed a little when Adam had said that Daisy, a scavenger, was nothing.
Poe had caved because he’d been secretly terrified that the Internet would go insane if he didn’t.
But Oscar/Adam...
He thought back to when he was advising Cassian, the actor who played Oscar, on the scene with him being captured by Kylo Ren. “Basically, Kylo has a history with you. You don’t know his identity; you’re mostly scared shitless by the fact there’s a masked guy in front of you. And you crack jokes. You try and relieve the tension.”
(Considering Cassian was not usually the wisecracking type — Jyn Erso, his girlfriend, had attested as much to that — that said volumes. Cassian could draw on his uncertainty and fear, at least)
The way that Cassian’s shots had looked...was that intentional?
***
“Why are you invested in Oscar and Adam anyway?” was Ben’s question. They were meeting at Poe’s apartment; it was 2023, and COVID restrictions were pretty much lifted.
“I don’t know,” Poe said. “I just had this whole backstory for them that didn’t make it in. The whole idea of them being childhood sweethearts...”
“You never really mentioned that to me!” Ben exclaimed. “You — Poe, why did you even include that Daisy/Adam kiss?”
“It wasn’t really a kiss kind of kiss,” Poe said. “She’s got a bit of a crush on him; I was building off of Hux’s set-up in the last movie. But...I justified it that way when I was trying to avoid people yelling at me.”
“So damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
Poe nodded.
“You could write out that story first,” Ben said. “You really could.”
***
Poe did. Ben was his muse, and there were times where Poe swore they were close enough to kiss. Even as Poe read select portions of his draft out loud, there was something about Ben’s gaze that let Poe know that Ben was hanging on his every word. The way he stared at Poe — God, sometimes Poe didn’t want Ben to stop looking at him like that.
Poe had turned off his Twitter notifications, while writing that book. It would have been tempting to take a leaf out of Finn’s book and quit Twitter altogether, but Poe found that, for better or worse, he couldn’t do it.
But he typed. Plotting out Oscar and Adam’s doomed romance, how they had grown up together, how Adam had helped Oscar when he needed it. (Even if that would never change the antis’ minds about Adam, it was a vital piece of storytelling, a reason why his parents would never give up on him besides him being their son)
He typed. Added a novelization of the interrogation scene, saying that Adam had been forced to torture Oscar. Added a bit at the end, where Adam came back.
“You’d need to split it into a series,” Ben said lightly, and Poe did laugh. Then, “Ben...I have to admit, after everything, it feels like you’re my Adam. The good Adam, I mean. You keep believing in me.”
“Do I need a reason why?” Ben said.
Poe could tell, in that moment, that Ben loved him. Poe was lucky, terribly lucky, that that was the case. When he loved Ben.
“Can I kiss you?” Poe said.
Ben smiled. “You can kiss me all you want.”
And so they kissed. So they did it.
***
Poe did split the book into a series, and after many revisions, the book Childhood’s Edge was published. Of course the Adam/Daisy shippers hated it for not living up to their expectations of Oscar and Adam being rivals over Daisy, of course the antis were selective in their interpretation of it. But even going on Twitter and seeing the grateful Tweets from Oscar/Adam fans and even a few non-shippers who just liked the idea of childhood friends...
It wasn’t going to be perfect, but it felt like absolution, soon enough.
