Finn didn’t have many sexual encounters, unlike some of his First Order cohorts, he didn’t have the luxury of starting a relationship; but he certainly wasn’t a prude. He discovered practice of pleasuring himself during his adolescence – he would spend hours in bed touching himself imagining the day his future soulmates hands would touch him so sacred and intimately.
Rey touching him was much different than he imagined; as the hands weren’t soft; but rough from hard work. But she worked him just the way he liked it slow and delicately causing harsh breaths to leave his lips and gently slip his fingers through her hair. This what he loved about her; they were still learning about each other, what they liked, what they desired, and yet she knew him so well.
Send me a NSFW headcanon and I’ll write a 5 sentence ficlet about it 👀👅
Tag: fanfic
this love (comes with an expiration date) – Chapter 7 – everyotherfreckle – Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015) [Archive of Our Own]
IT’S FINISHED, Y’ALL! the final chapter of my finnrey actor au!! (please try and) enjoy!!
You ever reread a fanfic and it’s not as great as you remember it? I always feel terrible about that.
Mine… all the time. Isn’t being visited by the Suck Fairy a common phenomenon for all fiction, original or fanfic, though?
I read and write a lot of fanfiction. But sometimes i stop and think what’s the point? (especially if the ship isn’t canon.) What does this contribute to society? Am i wasting my time on this? and other things like that. I’d like to know what your opinion is on fanfiction and it’s importance. Thank you for your time :)
Hi! I mean, I think fandom in general is amazing and I’ve made life-long friends from all walks of life through being a part of fandom. So that’s the first thing that comes to mind.
The second is that writing fan fic makes a lotta people happy. So if it enriches your life to write, then do it. It’s definitely enriched mine. There’s just something really wonderful about sharing a labor of love with people who love the book/show/pairing as much as you do. It’s kind of like the at-home-nerd version of that feeling you get at a concert, when you’re belting out the words to songs that you love, and all around you, people are doing the same thing. There’s just something really lovely about loving things together.
The third is that it’s really good practice if you plan to write original fiction some day. I’ve been wanting to write original fiction for awhile, but I never quite had the momentum (or confidence, frankly) to do it. But then I got involved in the Finnrey fandom, and I met awesome people who are super supportive of artists and writers, no matter your skill level. It was a great way for me to wade back into writing, because even when my writing skills were not-so-great, I still had people encouraging me and seeing the good in my fic, instead of the technical issues (like, I’m seriously terrible at plot and pacing, it’s a Problem. but i’ve had amazing and supportive comments on my fics anyway, and that has honestly changed my life.)
My fandom sees the heart behind something, and encourages the artist or writer because they know that the work comes from a place of love. No one is ever turned away for lack of technical skill.
tl;dr Writing fan fic can be a great way to engage with others, gain confidence in your own writing skills, and eventually spread your wings for your own stuff. And even if that’s not your goal, and you just wanna write fan fic forever for fun, it’s still a great way to meet people, and/or enrich your life.
As someone on here once said (sorry this is a paraphrase and I don’t remember the source), ’fandom friendships are wonderful and weird because it all started with us wanting to see the same two fictional characters kiss, and now we write each other porn for Christmas.’
Fandom is a beautiful thing.
he comes home ever six months or so. the house feels empty, but it always has, ever since the day his father didn’t come home (a little light protesting, he says, leave the dinner warm) and there’s his sister Lupe, off running rifles, and his sister Niambh, still not much more than a teenager, with fingers clever enough to put those weapons together blindfolded.
and there’s a woman who’s seen more ghosts in her life than anyone should, who gets up in the morning and does her duty because there’s bloody well nothing else to do aside from get a move on with things, another mission another weapons run, though she’s older now, mainly just organises things, keeps tabs on the stock and guards it, if necessary, with a very quick hand
but every half year or so, her son come home, every time with a few more ghosts in his eyes and unspeakable things in his heart, every time a little more like his father, like Cezar was,
and every time she puts the kettle on and makes a cup of tea and holds him while he cries
and then one day, it’s a holo and not a son that’s sent home
Noooo who said you could do that
Good morning,
I awoke to a flood of anon hate in my Tumblr/AO3 inbox from angry r*ylos for my latest TLJ rewrite chapter. This time, going as far as calling me “childish” for black/white morality (gray wasn’t really in TLJ either, I will point out) and “stupid” (with some extra profanities) for shipping finnrey (once again, tie-in materials and director interviews have also debunked r*ylo; I would have quit the fandom if it was canon).
Once again, I will point out if these are your views on my stuff, please move on and read something to your tastes and there’s plenty of that out there. I am not writing for people like you.
Also y’all will note that r*ylo shippers are also the ones constantly pushing the whole don’t like/don’t read mentality so literally according to their own logic they should shut up and move on
👆👆👆
That, and the fact that some of them were telling me that I was wasting my time with finnrey and should write for their crappy part of the fandom instead tells me that many of them feel very threatened by the finnrey ship and myself as a writer.
Ugh I’m sorry you were harassed just for writing your story. So much for ship and let ship, eh? The amount of pissy whining some of them will do when they feel threatened, jeez.
You are so cruel but please do more
This took me a little while, but here’s the follow up to this post about Kes and Poe!
“You know, I’ve been thinking for days and I still can’t figure it out.”
Finn, who was admiring the view of the tall grass in the waning light, gives him a curious glance. Kes cuts the end off the lash tightened around a newly-repaired fencepost before he turns to face Finn.
“What do I say to the man who saved my son’s life?“
The surprise hits Finn’s eyes and he opens his mouth to speak, then just gapes for a moment before he tries to laugh.
“I mean… you don’t have to- I needed a pilot, didn’t he tell you? It was-”
“Everything. You saved everything dear to me, Finn. He is my entire universe, and you got him out of there.”
Finn picks at a blade of grass that comes to his waist while CR-660 bobs around in the air, fussing with the fencepost. The air is still in the late afternoon, the light hot and big across the grassland.
“I thought I’d lost him in the desert, on Jakku.” Finn looks up to meet his eyes. “I thought that was it.”
“That wasn’t the end, though. Even if it were…” Kes feels a lump growing in his throat, and walks on to the next fencepost to distract himself. CR floats along behind him, chirping. “It would have been a better- a better end than that hole.”
Unable to go on, he waves CR onto the damaged post. She hovers around, inspecting the split wood before she flies off to a woodpile nearby for a new one.
“Don’t say that. Please.” In Finn’s tense voice Kes hears the echo of what he suffered in those hours when Poe was presumed dead, hours that Kes himself never knew except in nightmares both sleeping and waking.
“I’m sorry. That’s enough about that. But here’s something else I wanted to ask.” He watches CR zoom back, wooden posts floating at the end of her little tractor beam. “Are you all right?”
“Me?” Finn looks lost, not yet familiar with the question. “I… think so?”
“You don’t need to talk about anything you don’t have to, of course. CR, not so tight. You’ll split the wood again.”
The droid boops back, do it yourself if you can do it better. She does pull the lash less tightly in her rounds around the post, however.
“I want to, but I wouldn’t know where to start.” Finn is looking across the grassland again, as though looking for something. “I look at where I was two weeks ago and where I am now, and I literally can’t believe it. Sometimes I think I’m dreaming.”
“Good dream or bad?”
“Both?” Finn’s laughter is a little too sharp. “Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m back in the armor, afraid, and I think I dreamed of escaping. Then I open my eyes and I’m here. Which is real? Did I create this ranch, Poe, Rey, you, in my mind just to keep sane? Maybe the reconditioning happened and this is how it works, by keeping me in a waking dream.”
Finn catches his breath and looks at Kes with what he realizes is actual terror. “I’m sorry, I know I sound crazy. Please don’t tell- I’m really going to be locked up if I say ‘Captain Phasma,’ won’t I.”
“No one’s locking you up, you’re no danger to anyone but the guys who deserve it. Don’t lay about, CR, go do the next one.”
The droid, floating about as though enjoying the view herself, gives an indignant chirp before she flies away.
“Listen. Finn. You’ve gone through a lot in a very short time, and I won’t pretend to know anything about the life you lived before that.” Before he saved Poe, and in so doing became the second most important person in Kes’s life. “If you’re a little crazy from all that, well, who can blame you? Minds bend and break under strain, I can’t say I’m all that sane myself. Or my boy, for that matter. I’ve been doing some reading, and I heard it called a normal response to an abnormal situation.”
Finn nods slowly. “Normal. I like that.”
“But minds can be mended, too,” Kes puts a hand on the fencepost next to him. “Maybe they won’t be exactly the same as before, but enough to keep the beasties out and everyone to be safe.”
“Yes.” Finn’s smile is soft, bittersweet. “Poe is lucky to have you.”
Kes’s heart aches, as it does so often around Finn. What can he say to a loss like this, a gaping wound that sucks in the air around it and stops time, making life seem impossible sometimes?
“I’d say, and don’t let him forget it.” He adds in a lower voice: “I’m lucky to have him, too.”
His chest fills with the knowledge, that no matter how he might bleed and scream inside for Poe, no matter that he fears every day that he might lose his son to would-be Imperial goons, he had the privilege of raising his son to be a man. He had known chubby arms around his neck, scraped knees, gurgling laughter, the first glass of wine, the first broken heart. That was something Finn would never have in this deeply unfair universe.
“Here’s something else I know, Finn. You’re everything, too, to a family that never gave up on you no matter what.”
“That is, if they’re still…” Finn shrugs, looks out across the grassland in the fading light.
“No ifs. Do you think Shara, my Lady Bey, my fire among the stars, ever stopped loving our boy? Or her irritating man, for that matter?” Kes snorts. “Death would be too scared to get in her way.”
Finn bows his head and Kes goes to stand by his side, to see what the younger man is seeing, the sunset filling the sky over waving grass. “I hope your family is out there, looking for you. But if not, they love you and they always will.” In the stillness between them the wind rustles across the fields. “I also want you to know, though it’s no replacement, my home is your home and is open to you, always.”
Finn says nothing for a long moment, and Kes looks at him only to see a tear tracing its way down the young man’s cheek, glittering red in the evening light.
Kes lifts an arm, giving Finn plenty of time to pull away if he wants, and puts a hand to Finn’s back. When Finn leans toward him Kes puts the arm around his shoulders and pulls tight. They stand and face the wind together, in a world of light and the vast expanse, a crescent Yavin revealing itself as the light fades.
“And believe me, it’s not because you’re dating my son. You can dump him like a sack of sweetroots tomorrow, Force knows you can do better, and if you feel uncomfortable with him here I’ll kick him out.”
Finn chuckles as he wipes his face. “Thank you, Kes.”
“I mean it, try me! I told you before and I will tell you again, you need to play the field. You’re too young to settle.”
“Hey, lazy bums!”
They both turn to see Poe walking through the grass down a hill, spare fenceposts slung across his back, Rey behind him with a bag of tools.
“Told you we were going to beat you, Dad, droid or no droid.”
“Keep working like that, Captain Dameron, and you’ll ruin your back before you’re forty.”
“Commander. That’s Commander Dameron!” Poe puts down the posts he was carrying, which CR whisks away. “I was demoted for one day and you’ve been calling me that for a week.”
“A little humility never hurt anyone.”
“So that means you’re cooking, right, Kes?” Rey lets out a squeal. “I can’t wait!”
“Oh, it will be worth the anticipation, Master Jedi.”
“Rey.”
“Rey. Dinner is derloc caldos and roasted tip-yip, a genuine Ewok recipe, with candied slugfruit for dessert.”
“I don’t know what that is, but I know I’ll love it!” Rey turns to Finn and they scream at each other like six-year-olds.
Poe crosses his arms. “If you ever want real food you can always ask me to cook. Not that I will, as long as Dad keeps losing these bets.”
“Oh, a sore winner?” Finn pulls him by an arm around the waist, and they share a kiss and a grin. “I’m beginning to think Kes has a point about needing to play the field while I’m young.”
“Says the guy who was married at twenty-five?” The look Poe shoots Kes over his shoulder is one of pure betrayal. “You are the worst wingman and more importantly, what in space are you thinking.”
“Yes yes, we both know he is far out of your league, but what can I do?” Kes shrugs. “I have to tell the truth when I see it.”
Finn taps Poe’s chest with the back of a hand. “Come on, flyboy, bet I can beat you to the house.”
“First one in gets dibs on the yip-yip!” Rey runs ahead of them.
“Tip-yip,” Kes sighs. “I got the recipe from this Ewok tribe-”
“Not fair! You started first!” Finn runs after Rey, his feet pounding the ground.
“Um no, no! This is not the Rey you’re looking for?”
“Let’s get her, Finn!”
Kes watches them go in the fading light, the wind a cold whisper on his neck. “Come along, CR.”
The droid floats humming to his side and he starts toward the house, listening to the children shout and laugh–warriors all who have seen too much and walked through fire, yet they need to be children at times. He knows he needs that from them, too.
As he walks in Yavin’s light Kes listens to the night birds, the chirping insects, the wind, the sounds of home as the day cools to evening. His steps are steady and his heart is full.
Does Kes Dameron know of his son’s capture and torture, near-death and escape? Has he heard from his son since the events on Jakku? Does he wonder and try to keep busy, checking his communicator too many times? Or has he gotten a short message while the Resistance base is in an uproar behind Poe? Despite his son’s assurances that he is fine, he’s just about to deploy can’t talk long, I’ll be fine love you Dad, does Kes see the cuts and bruises despite the grainy quality of the transition, does he sense something has happened to his boy, something Poe would not tell him? Does he ache to be there by Poe’s side, to kiss the scrapes away like he and Shara used to? Does he play the recording again and again, looking for clues, just wanting to see his son’s face in the flesh again, a small and traitorous part of him wondering if he ever will?
When the Resistance is–thankfully, oh, he can breathe again–back in communication and Kes learns, in bits and pieces, what has happened, does he keep up a brave front for his son? Does he hold in the tears and the screams in front of Poe because he can’t make this about himself? Do father and son tear up together as Kes hugs him, repeating how happy he is to have his son back and how proud he knows Shara is of him, just as in life? Does he assure Poe that he can stay and rest as long as he likes, knowing that much like Shara he can’t ground Poe for long while others are still out there fighting?
When Poe wakes from nightmares, is Kes on his feet before the first scream is finished, is he running down the hallway like he had never slept, because he had known this was coming? Does he call Poe’s name, never complaining that Poe’s arms around him are too tight, because it is a reminder that his boy is with him, is alive, that the darkness has not taken him? Does he stay for the rest of the night by Poe’s bedside, and when Poe starts sobbing or groaning in his sleep again does his father stroke his face or pat his shoulder, and is that enough to give him peace–for the moment?
Later in the calmer day, when the night has receded for a while and Poe is laughing outside with the dogs, when Kes takes out his old rifle from the Rebellion days–its main use now to scare away local wildlife from the livestock–to clean it, does he stare at it for a long time? Does he aim it into the air, imagining Kylo Ren’s head at the end of the barrel? Do the great, wracking sobs come then, as he imagines against his will what his son went through? Does his whole body shake from the effort of keeping them silent from Poe outside, an unheard earthquake of pain?
Frantically he runs the numbers through his head. How long was Poe held before that former Stormtrooper, seemingly sent by the Force itself, took him from his cell? How many hours, how many questions, how many screams? How much agony slammed again and again into a mind already torn and bloody from watching a mass murder that he was powerless to stop?
A sense of waste, of failure rises up in him, threatening to choke him with the foul taste. He and Shara, they had dreamed together of peace. They thought their son would grew up in a galaxy without war. It was what they fought and risked their lives for, what they built their home for after the war. What was it all for, with that very son shattered by this new cruel fight?
Stranded in a universe without answers, with nothing but the sounds of his son out in the yard to anchor him, Kes wipes his face and finishes cleaning his weapon with practiced, unthinking hands. He locks the blaster away, not admitting to himself he doesn’t want Poe to stumble on it, as though Poe doesn’t have a weapon of his own that he carries at all times, as though there were anything left to shield his son from.
Poe calls for his father and Kes goes outside, a smile on his face as he steps into the light, laughing to watch Poe mobbed by a pile of wriggling and overenthusiastic puppies. He runs to “rescue” his beleaguered son, kissing each happy pup as he takes it off Poe. The sun shines high above and the night is far away, for now.
Yeah you had no right to do this and I hate you
I GIVE U PUPPIES AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET
Does Kes Dameron know of his son’s capture and torture, near-death and escape? Has he heard from his son since the events on Jakku? Does he wonder and try to keep busy, checking his communicator too many times? Or has he gotten a short message while the Resistance base is in an uproar behind Poe? Despite his son’s assurances that he is fine, he’s just about to deploy can’t talk long, I’ll be fine love you Dad, does Kes see the cuts and bruises despite the grainy quality of the transition, does he sense something has happened to his boy, something Poe would not tell him? Does he ache to be there by Poe’s side, to kiss the scrapes away like he and Shara used to? Does he play the recording again and again, looking for clues, just wanting to see his son’s face in the flesh again, a small and traitorous part of him wondering if he ever will?
When the Resistance is–thankfully, oh, he can breathe again–back in communication and Kes learns, in bits and pieces, what has happened, does he keep up a brave front for his son? Does he hold in the tears and the screams in front of Poe because he can’t make this about himself? Do father and son tear up together as Kes hugs him, repeating how happy he is to have his son back and how proud he knows Shara is of him, just as in life? Does he assure Poe that he can stay and rest as long as he likes, knowing that much like Shara he can’t ground Poe for long while others are still out there fighting?
When Poe wakes from nightmares, is Kes on his feet before the first scream is finished, is he running down the hallway like he had never slept, because he had known this was coming? Does he call Poe’s name, never complaining that Poe’s arms around him are too tight, because it is a reminder that his boy is with him, is alive, that the darkness has not taken him? Does he stay for the rest of the night by Poe’s bedside, and when Poe starts sobbing or groaning in his sleep again does his father stroke his face or pat his shoulder, and is that enough to give him peace–for the moment?
Later in the calmer day, when the night has receded for a while and Poe is laughing outside with the dogs, when Kes takes out his old rifle from the Rebellion days–its main use now to scare away local wildlife from the livestock–to clean it, does he stare at it for a long time? Does he aim it into the air, imagining Kylo Ren’s head at the end of the barrel? Do the great, wracking sobs come then, as he imagines against his will what his son went through? Does his whole body shake from the effort of keeping them silent from Poe outside, an unheard earthquake of pain?
Frantically he runs the numbers through his head. How long was Poe held before that former Stormtrooper, seemingly sent by the Force itself, took him from his cell? How many hours, how many questions, how many screams? How much agony slammed again and again into a mind already torn and bloody from watching a mass murder that he was powerless to stop?
A sense of waste, of failure rises up in him, threatening to choke him with the foul taste. He and Shara, they had dreamed together of peace. They thought their son would grow up in a galaxy without war. It was what they fought and risked their lives for, what they built their home for after the war. What was it all for, with that very son shattered by this new cruel fight?
Stranded in a universe without answers, with nothing but the sounds of his son out in the yard to anchor him, Kes wipes his face and finishes cleaning his weapon with practiced, unthinking hands. He locks the blaster away, not admitting to himself he doesn’t want Poe to stumble on it, as though Poe doesn’t have a weapon of his own that he carries at all times, as though there were anything left to shield his son from.
Poe calls for his father and Kes goes outside, a smile on his face as he steps into the light, laughing to watch Poe mobbed by a pile of wriggling and overenthusiastic puppies. He runs to “rescue” his beleaguered son, kissing each happy pup as he takes it off Poe. The sun shines high above and the night is far away, for now.
Bedtime
for @finnreyfridays
Finn stops reading aloud and turns off the holopad when he realizes that Gabriel is fast asleep, his chubby hands clutching his plush toy. The toddler always asks for a bedtime story, but can never stay awake past the first few sentences. Finn smiles fondly, and kisses his son’s forehead. Then he puts a hand on Gabriel’s tiny chest and waits for it to rise and fall, rise and fall like a regular clock. He doesn’t know why, but sometimes he just needs to make sure that his baby is breathing. Reassured, he steps out of the room, leaving the door ajar.
Finn pads down the corridor, stopping in front of Ngize’s room. The teenager is half-asleep, and Rey is lying down next to her, holding her in her arms and singing a lullaby. Ngize looks so peaceful and trustful, a far cry from the twitchy and aggressive child they brought home a few years ago. She was one of the Stormtrooper cadets they rescued from the First Order, and her “childhood” at the hands of these monsters has left her traumatized. But she’s come such a long way since then, and Finn’s heart fills with joy and love every time she’s being her bright, care-free self.
Rey notices him leaning against the door frame, and she smiles to him, still singing. Her eyes twinkle the way they do when she’s happy. Finn stays there, watching his wife sing to their daughter, and feels like luckiest man in the world.
L.J.'s Obsessions 