Post-TLJ. Kylo is forced out of the First Order, and Rey catches up with him. He has some interesting information about her parents that will lead her on a quest for revenge. And Kylo will help every step of the way.
Rated T for Teen Chapter 1/? 2.2k words so far
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Kylo’s grip was waning.
After the fiasco at Crait, he heard the whispers behind his back, that which echoed throughout the First Order. It came from no one source; everyone was thinking it: that Kylo was unhinged. A terrible leader. Distracted. Incomplete in his training. Too involved in personal affairs. He’d cost them the victory. Now the Resistance ran free, right when they were in their grasp. He failed. Nothing like Snoke.
Snoke? Did Rey really kill Snoke? And the guards? Alone?
Kylo could feel his army turning on him. He made examples where he could, to reinstate fear, but it wasn’t enough. In fact, it only made them hate him more.
Even sitting alone in his room, he could feel the outside turmoil of the First Order. The rumors and twistings. He was devising what new ways he could arrest their obedience, when she appeared.
Chapters 42-57 of “A Collection of Longing” have been posted.
This is a collection of tweet-length works based on prompts from @ReyloMicrofics on twitter. Let’s see if I can make you feel anything, one tweet at a time.
“Sympathy for the Devil” Chapter 3 - The First Death
There is an insatiable hunger that can’t be quenched, no matter how hard Ben tries. It’s not his fault, it’s never his fault - but that doesn’t mean he’s not to blame.
Ben loves Rey, perfectly, innocently, and without end - even more than he loves the Force. But what happens when his fate is already decided… and he’s on a path to destroy all he holds dear?
Illustrated by me.
This will be my last Reylo fic, guys. Join me on my journey. <3
“For the upcoming season the Organa Opera Ballet plans on performing Swan Lake. Only problem is that the principal dancer, Organa’s son, won’t share the stage with any of the female dancers. On his quest to find the perfect Swan Queen he meets Rey - a British undergraduate, that lacks the technique and most definitely does not want to listen, but somehow manages to completely bewitch young Solo. He recognizes both passion and temper, perfect for portraying Odile - but will she be able to transform into a delicate and subtle Odette as well?”
For the upcoming season the Organa Opera Ballet plans on performing Swan Lake. Only problem is that Organa’s son won’t be satisfied with any of the company’s female dancers. On his quest to find the perfect Swan Queen he meets Rey - a British undergraduate, that lacks the technique and most definitely does not want to listen, but somehow manages to completely bewitch young Solo. He recognizes both passion and temper, perfect for portraying Odile - but will she be able to transform into a delicate and subtle Odette as well?
“And she floated there, in a place between worlds. A place both outside of her body, but also closer somehow to a new physical awareness. Joined with the man she loved.“
Illustrations by me @jenniferladybug (@owbensolo on Twitter! come say hi!)
It’s finally here! The smuttening! Hahaha, I know it’s what you dirty reylos have been waiting for (and you KNOW I have). @erickawrites has done it again and written such a romantic, beautiful, sexy chapter for our beautiful Rey and Ben. Very NSFW, proceed with caution.
“She glanced down at his hands wrapped around hers. Hands that had murdered innocents, hands that had held the blade that struck down his father, ripped open her best friend, and met hers in battle. But it was those same hands that had trembled as they reached for her fingertips, hands that had given her more pleasure than she knew possible, hands that steadied her now.”
It’s loud and all-encompassing and it expels Rey out of the passionate kiss she’s sharing with her prisoner.
The slick oily darkness she’s come to associate with her Master oozes inside her mind as she’s summoned through their psychic link forged over many years of use.
Kiss broken, the obsidian gaze that stares back at her is filled with pain and worry.
“What was that?" her ward pleads, eyes searching hers, shoulders curling forward and trembling hands still grasping onto her.
Pursing her lips in thought, she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head with narrowed eyes.
"You heard that?” she quizzes. How could he have possibly heard her Master’s voice in her head?
*****
Yes! This story has been resurrected from its 2-year hiatus! New chapters are being worked on now.
ClickHERE for Chap 5, Click HEREto start from the beginning.
Last month I tweeted that Rian Johnson changed my life. Although I’ve been prone to Rian Johnson-related dramatic hyperbole over the last three years, this time I was very serious.
I’m so excited to finally share that my book has found the perfect home at The Dial Press / Random House!
You all gave me the support and encouragement to write and share my stories…plus countless hours of entertainment and angst and anticipation for updates. I adore the amount of imagination and creativity that’s been poured into this fandom.
Some time in the next two years (yeah, traditional publication takes a long time), the book will come out. Physically. It will have a cover and my name and blurbs and some unfortunate audiobook narrator will have to read my faux-Chuck Tingle passages without laughing.
Best of all, I get to spend more time in this little universe that’s so personal to me. Especially after this hellish last year, it’s been like escaping into a time and place that I can revisit when I need comfort. Or a knish.
While I get my website set up, I’ve created a beautiful and temporary mailing list at https://www.kategoldbeck.pizza/slice. I’ll be sending out fun extras to folks who sign up.
Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos or comments! Fanfic is valid as fuck.
hi friends, i’ve noticed an uptick in requests for the Doing the Unstuck pdf/epub. if you want it, please DM me directly here or on twitter or instagram instead of asking the internet/another reader. i have a few disclaimers i like to share before sending *and* I have a slightly corrected copy.
one of the best things about fanfic is the ability to provide tags, CWs, and authors notes on a chapter-by-chapter basis. when i offered the pdf, it didn’t occur to me that people who hadn’t read the fic in 2018 would want it. the pdf i made was *only* the text of the story.
i haven’t read the fic in literal years but i’m pretty sure there’s stuff in there that hits differently in 2022 or that would benefit from some context or additional CWs. (this was also the first fic i ever wrote and i was still learning how to do…everything?)
i should add that the novel is substantially different from the fic. hopefully i can talk about that process someday. i’m confident that if you liked Doing the Unstuck, you’ll *love* the book. they are definitely two totally different reading experiences. ♀️
“Yes, thank you for taking my call, Doctor. Well, you see, I’ve been running a fever for the last five hours.”
Rey sits up from her tweed couch and removes the cool washcloth she’d placed over her forehead.
“How high is your temperature?” Dr. Wexley asks in a bored, flat affect.
“One hundred and one degrees. And the back of my neck feels very tender. I have this—this dull pain. Sort of a throbbing sensation in my abdomen. Or maybe a bit, erm, lower. And I’m quite certain it’s not my—” She coughs lightly “—monthly visitor.”
“Hold for a minute, please.”
Rey sighs and checks her watch. She absolutely hates calling in sick at work. Hates giving anything less than one hundred percent to any task. Usually an aspirin does the trick, but something’s different this time. She’s never felt quite this—
“How deep is that throbbing, Miss Johnson?”
That’s not at all Dr. Wexley’s thin, reedy voice. Or Mr. Dameron’s.
“What in the—”
“You’re intruding on my hour,” he says. “I was trying to place a call.”
“Medical matters are considered emergencies, Mister Solo.” She shoves her glasses back on. “You can make an exception!”
“But now I’m a bit…concerned for your well-being.” How does a human voice rumble like that? “Are you…flushed?”
“Would you please hang up, Mr. Solo? I’m on the line with my doctor. Can we please be adult about this?”
He takes a long drag from his cigarette. “I’m certain we can be adult together.”
“Yes, thank you for taking my call, Doctor. Well, you see, I’ve been running a fever for the last five hours.”
Rey sits up from her tweed couch and removes the cool washcloth she’d placed over her forehead.
“How high is your temperature?” Dr. Wexley asks in a bored, flat affect.
“One hundred and one degrees. And the back of my neck feels very tender. I have this—this dull pain. Sort of a throbbing sensation in my abdomen. Or maybe a bit, erm, lower. And I’m quite certain it’s not my—” She coughs lightly “—monthly visitor.”
“Hold for a minute, please.”
Rey sighs and checks her watch. She absolutely hates calling in sick at work. Hates giving anything less than one hundred percent to any task. Usually an aspirin does the trick, but something’s different this time. She’s never felt quite this—
“How deep is that throbbing, Miss Johnson?”
That’s not at all Dr. Wexley’s thin, reedy voice. Or Mr. Dameron’s.
“What in the—”
“You’re intruding on my hour,” he says. “I was trying to place a call.”
“Medical matters are considered emergencies, Mister Solo.” She shoves her glasses back on. “You can make an exception!”
“But now I’m a bit…concerned for your well-being.” How does a human voice rumble like that? “Are you…flushed?”
“Would you please hang up, Mr. Solo? I’m on the line with my doctor. Can we please be adult about this?”
He takes a long drag from his cigarette. “I’m certain we can be adult together.”
backstory: Inspired by a tweet and turned into a tweetfic, this one-shot ended up with an additional 4100 words (mostly smut) and a home on AO3.
summary:
He didn’t know why she drank every week. Didn’t know if it was with friends or alone. If it was after work or after midnight. Didn’t know why it would inevitably lead her to his home, his bed.
All he knew was that, when she was there, she was his.
And he would protect her at all costs, from whatever demons chased her into his arms.
Ben Solo wakes up about once a week to find his neighbour, Rey Johnson, inexplicably in bed with him. Oddly, he doesn’t seem to mind.
preview:
She looked so sheepish and adorable that his heart seized a little bit; a sweet-sharp plunk of longing, despite the fact that she was right there in his arms.
I could love her, he thought, lying to himself—knowing he already did.
(yes, there is a 9 and it will be the actual last chapter)
“It’s different for you and you know it,” he insists, sitting up on his elbow. “They’ve been leaving you alone because they don’t think you…do this kind of thing.”
“I don’t.”
“And after I’m gone, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Rey pulls her coat a little tighter around her torso, and Ben is once again torn between wanting that smug bastard to see her neck and knowing what a terrible idea that would be.
"Dang it. Well, maybe you can catch a nap after the matinee.” Dameron leaps back to his feet. “Thing is, I knew Solo wouldn’t actually do a damn thing. But I’ll bet he was giving you a piece of his mind all night.”
Ben notices the corner of her mouth curve up the slightest little amount. Or, at least, he thinks he does.
“It’s different for you and you know it,” he insists, sitting up on his elbow. “They’ve been leaving you alone because they don’t think you…do this kind of thing.”
“I don’t.”
“And after I’m gone, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Summary: Rey has some difficulty adjusting to being a new mother. Ben is here to help.
Preview:
Rey perfunctorily uses the refresher, careful to avoid the mirror. The steam from her recent shower swirls around and her gaze drops down and away, as she lifts her towel from the floor and wraps it around her body. Only then does she glance up, her eyes meeting her foggy reflection’s briefly, before dipping her head down and wrapping another towel around her hair.
She beelines out and softly pads to the bedroom, almost bumping into her husband in their narrow hallway on the way.
“Well, hello,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her in a half circle. He ducks his head and captures her lips in a short, but searing kiss. She melts against his body for a brief, blissful moment, before pulling away.
“Mmm,” she mumbles her assent. “Hello. Did she go down?”
“For now,” he responds, good humouredly. “She didn’t give me too much trouble anyway.”
“Thank the Force,” Rey says on a sigh. “I’m starting to feel like a thala-siren.” An image of foamy green milk dripping from a bearded face flashes through her mind and she shudders.
“A what?” Ben asks, looking at her quizzically. It occurs to her that the mammal was likely native to the shores of Ahch-To and those who have not had the pleasure of visiting the planet would likely not know what she was talking about. She considers projecting an image to him through their bond, but decides against it. She’s certain the last thing her husband needs at this point is a visual of yet another lactating hypermammarian creature in his midst.
Instead, she just shakes her head. “You don’t want to know. Needless to say, if we can get her down to five feedings during the day and maybe one at night, I’ll be happy. And so will these guys,” she adds, palming a heavy breast in each hand through her towel and giving them a jiggle.
Ben groans out loud. “Please don’t do that to me.”
She sheepishly withdraws her hands from her tender breasts. He ducks his head to kiss under her ear, in the silky spot where a tender pulse beats. Then he continues kissing down her neck, wet, soft kisses. She gently exhales and loses herself in the moment as she twines her arms around him. His lips migrate to hers as his hands go to the knot in her towel.
“What did the medic say today?” he murmurs against her mouth as he loosens the front and starts to pull it away from her.
Rey comes back to reality with a suddenness akin to a bucket of cold water being poured over her head. She pulls away abruptly with a barely stifled gasp and tears the towel from his hands, wrapping it tighter around herself.
“Still too soon,” she manages to gasp out. “Said to wait a bit longer.” At those words, she brushes past him.
Once in the safety of their room, she quickly pulls a pair of sleep pants on under her towel and pulls one of Ben’s shirts over her head. Only then does she allow the towel to fall to the floor. Ben walks in as she’s bent over, drying her hair with the other towel. He sits at the edge of the bed and stares at her. He doesn’t speak and neither does she. Once she’s vigorously rubbed the towel through her wet hair, beyond the point of what’s necessary, she drops it to join the other one on the floor and then crawls into bed.
“Can you pass me my datapad?”
He turns to look at her and makes no move to do as she’s asked.
“Please, Ben,” she wheedles. Let it go. Please let it go. “I told Finn I’d check their trajectory for tomorrow and see if I could find him a better route than the one they’re taking. If he can avoid—"
“What’s going on, Rey?” he interrupts, impatient with her efforts to dodge the issue. He has eternally, frustratingly, been nothing if not straightforward. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Did the medic say something was—” He visibly needs to collect himself, jaw clenching, “—wrong? With the way you’re healing? It’s been over five months…” His voice trails off and he looks at her, almost pleadingly. “Talk to me.”
She responds in a visceral way to the worry and anxiety in his tone, but a knot forms in her throat at the thought of having to explain to him what, exactly, it was that was wrong with her. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Not like that. I just don’t – I don’t feel ready, that’s all.” She can feel her hackles rising, an innate defensiveness borne from a need to survive first and foremost at an early age, and she tries desperately to quash it before it consumes her. This is not Jakku. This is not Unkar Plutt or the other scavengers and traders. This is Ben. She can be honest with Ben. She can be herself with Ben.
Ben. Rey. A cabin in the woods. Both looking for solitude and instead finding something more.
Chapter 8 preview:
Rey was dreaming.
Fragments of images – feelings, really – filtered in and out, like shafts of light dispersing through the shutters of an open window. Within her, she felt the ebb and flow of tranquility and peace, pleasure and comfort. Security. Warmth.
There was a pleasant heat against her back and the tickle of cool air on her brow. A soft rasp against the nape of her neck. Goosebumps rose up on her body.
A restlessness grew. It caused her to shift and sigh, even in sleep. The pressure against her back grew more insistent. She felt a tightening around her chest and over her stomach; the sensation of being secured further against a solid surface. She sighed again, eyelashes fluttering, a red glow behind her mostly-closed eyelids signalling the start of a new day.
Experimentally, she moved her feet, brushing them against another pair of feet – significantly larger than hers – that shifted as she moved. Dragging her toes upwards, she felt the crisp, sparse hair of a now-familiar shin. The legs under hers adjusted, trapping her feet between them. She bit her lip on a smile, feeling that same rasp on her neck, followed by a soft caress.
Awakening further, she became more aware of her surroundings. The cabin. The ancient space heater that was still on, emitting a low, uneven warmth throughout the room. How the majority of her warmth was coming from the man at her back – Ben – who, she remembered with a wriggling internal thrill, was also responsible for the pleasant soreness between her legs.
The luxury of lying there in bed, warm, contented. No alarms going off, nowhere to be – this feeling was what she’d needed all along. The absence of responsibility, of being held accountable for every word, action, decision she made, even the very action of making decisions – this was what she had sought when Luke had first dangled the carrot of this cabin, this retreat.
And it had taken a few days. It had taken some finagling, some turmoil, quite a bit of Tylenol and tears – but she was here.
I reblogged this a few days ago and then the artist reached out to let me know that this pic was actually inspired MY story, a place to go!
It’s kiiiind of a dream come true to see a piece of artwork that you admire and THEN find out that YOUR writing inspired it (!!!), so I just wanted to re-share and tell everyone to check out all @dontlookatmeeeeee‘s other fun, incredible work!!!
Grief is a deeply lonely thing. The world continues around you. People give you space when you just desperately want to be held and talked to. You try to move on and heal but the quiet screams.
I want to write something about Rey having to come to terms with her parents’ deaths. Surrounded by friends but with no one to lean on. Keeping a brave face for the morale of the Resistance but wishing she could break. Feeling the agony of it but knowing she’s alone in her pain. This time, she really is alone.
And maybe she thinks about how she wishes Ben were there this time. That maybe he would have understood.
But he’s not there. The bond is closed. So she keeps going on her own. It’s what she’s best at.
“They were filthy junk traders. Sold you off for drinking money. They’re dead in a pauper’s grave in the Jakku desert.“
They’re dead in a pauper’s grave in the Jakku desert.
dead in a pauper’s grave.
dead
dead
dead.
Rey bursts through the door into the captain’s quarters of the Falcon and lets it shut automatically behind her, before bracing her hands on her knees and folding her body near in half, head almost between her legs. Her breath is coming out in frenetic wheezes and choked gasps and she can feel the corners of her vision darkening.
It’s happening again.
For the third time in as many days, she has found herself gripped by a feeling that manifests in cold dread, icy sweat prickling her forehead and back, gathering at her upper lip and under her arms. Once she starts feeling this way, she knows now that she needs to get somewhere private, quickly, before the other symptoms begin and anyone sees her.
Oh, she knows Finn would be worried. Rose and Leia troubled and sympathetic, respectively. Poe would be outwardly, demonstratively concerned, with an underlying thread of This is our spark? Our last hope? that he would believe stayed hidden in the depths of his mind (little does he know).
The problem is, none of them would understand.
Regardless, she can’t burden them. Poe is right: she is the spark. The hope. The last Jedi. The one who is meant to lead them to victory. It wouldn’t do for any of them, not a single one, to see her in her current state.
The feeling of dread escalates now to a catastrophic scale. Bile rises in her throat as her arms go numb, hands tightening until they involuntarily curl into fists and she can do nothing to unfurl them. So this is what it feels like to die, she thinks, also for the third time in as many days. Her practical mind can understand that this is not death, this is simply her body rebelling against the shocks it has undergone in so little time. However, where is her practical mind now? Would practicality not dictate that her breath come out smooth and steady, rather than in these short, panicked, retching gasps? Would practicality not deem the use of her legs as important, as opposed to having them collapse underneath her, knees hitting the ground with jarring force?
Practical mind, indeed.
She feels herself shifting out of consciousness and it reminds her of the Force Bond. Of Ben.
I wish, she thinks, as her chest continues to tighten and tighten and she knows, with certainty, that this is the end, I wish he were here. He would understand. He would know what to do with this all-encompassing grief, this feeling of loneliness and despair so primordial she is sure it must have been man’s first emotion, perhaps his only emotion, perhaps the only emotion that has ever existed. Happiness is simply less despair. Love is less loneliness. But neither ever fully reach any real sort of euphoria, despite what the holos would have you believe.
Her body hits the ground next and she is wheezing, arms curling inwards, as she protectively tucks her knotted hands into her chest, wondering what it would be like if she had anticipated she would die alone. Would it be easier? To not have held out the hope of someone’s return? Of a life yet to begin? Would it be easier, now, to be by herself as the world goes dark and sound cuts out and her gasping breath echoes across a vast emptiness–
“Rey.”
She feels a vibration on the ground beneath her, can see the shape of a black figure dropping down beside her. Feels a large, warm hand on her back.
She senses an invasion, a pressing of her mind, but is powerless to defend herself against it so she allows it and tries only to hide her overwhelming feeling of relief.
He’s here.
He’s here.
It will be okay now.
Everything will be okay.
sending you my condolences @the-reylo-void. hope this maybe helped, even just a little? many, many hugs to you. please remember you are not alone. xo
Y’all! I made this lovely list of Christmas fics back in December 2019, and it got completely forgotten in the midst of the absolute tragic heartbreaking mess that was TROS, and it’s been sitting in our drafts ever since. So I’m just going to go ahead and post it now! Let’s have some CHRISTMAS IN JUNE!
“New York City, November 1947: Ben Solo is the no nonsense event director for Skywalker Department Stores, the family business, which hosts an annual Thanksgiving Day Parade. But after the Santa Claus he hired is found drunk Ben has to employ a new one on the spot named Kris Kringle, which sets off a chain of events Ben couldn’t possibly imagine and leads him to love and renewed faith.”
Why @nancylovesreylo rec’d it: “This ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ AU is just about the cutest, sweetest thing I’ve ever read.”
“’Listen, I know we’ve only known each other for five minutes, but do you trust me?’ In which Ben and Rey are strangers who have to share a rental car to make it home for Christmas because their flight got cancelled.”
From the author: “I wrote this one for a winter exchange in @thereylowritingden last year and I just had so much fun writing it and developing this little relationship with Ben and Rey. They were just so fun, so sweet, and so pure, and I loved, loved, loved writing it.”
“Mall Santa Ben has a secret crush on his lunch buddy Rey. And then she pays a visit to Santa…"
Why@em-is-writing rec’d it: “I’m a sucker for fluffy Christmas fics. Ben takes a job as a local mall Santa and develops a crush on the cute girl who works in the ice cream stand at the food court. Ben and Rey are so adorable as they both explore their budding attraction for one another, set against the backdrop of the holidays and all the chaos that entails.”
“A simple Life Day Ornament is a touchstone between the past and the future - a reminder of what once was, and the hope of what will be someday. It is the painted faces of a unique, blended family: a mother, a father, a son… and a Wookiee.”
A lovely and heartfelt holiday story written in canonverse.
“All Rey Johnson wanted was solitude. A place to go where she could escape from the daily stressors and mayhem of her job. A place where she could enjoy some peace and some quiet. Her mentor Luke Skywalker’s small cabin up north seemed like the ideal place to do just that. A week of seclusion was just what she needed.And then Ben Solo arrived.”
So many fanfic tropes used beautifully in this heartfelt story: snowed in, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, ONLY ONE BED.
“Ben Solo wasn’t looking for any excitement at Christmas. He just wanted to hang out at his family’s resort with his best friend, drink whiskey by the fire, maybe do a little skiing. He wasn’t counting on one of the most popular singing duos in the country to show up and throw a wrench in it, and he certainly wasn’t expecting no snow. What’s Christmas in Vermont without any snow???”
Inspired by the 1954 musical White Christmas. This one looks like SO MUCH FUN!
“Alone at Christmas? Mad at your dad? I’m a thirty-year old alpha with years of experience in dealing with difficult family dynamics. If you’d like to have me as your strictly platonic date for Christmas, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship with you to torment your family, I’m game.Beggars, Rey decided, grasping for any lifeline, can’t be choosers.”
A Christmas fake dating ABO fic, with the beautiful devoted Reylo @lachesisgrimm is so good at writing!
“Rey Johnson is new to New England and gets caught completely unprepared for the first snow of the season. The one and only Professor Ben Solo is there to help.”
“Christmas is Rey’s favorite time of year; snow, sweet treats, decorations and cheer. But her holiday train comes to a halt when her boss teams her up with the mercurial Ben Solo, the resident office Grinch. Rey has never backed down from a challenge in her life, and she is not about to let a little thing like having to work with her office nemesis get in her way to success. Shenanigans ensue!”
“Rey is a broke student working at a department store during the holidays to get extra money, and a mysterious shopper visits her for eight straight nights.”
“Every year, the employees of Organa-Skywalker-Solo Ltd. participate in a cutthroat game of Whamageddon for the company office pool. Ben and Rey also play a secret game of longing, unbeknownst to each other, denying what they long for the most. Will this be the year they stop sabotaging their hearts?”
“Grumpy Reindeer farmer Ben Solo wears a lot of plaid and can’t wait for Christmas to be over so he can stop being a seasonal punchline. When journalist hiker Rey gets lost on his property right before a snowstorm hits, he may just change his mind about the holiday.”
“Only two weeks in America and brand new at Organa-Sky law firm, Rey stands in the corner of the holiday party in her red, itchy tights feeling awkward and alone. She sees another lost soul with aged-brandy eyes and a truly hideous plaid tie standing nearby, and they forge a connection over Mondegreens and ridiculous Christmas puns with the aid of the open bar. Little does she know that brilliant hunk Ben is actually Benjamin L. Solo, the most-feared partner at the firm. As the wine flows and instinct takes over, the two move closer. But what happens after the open bar closes and she figures out who he really is?”
Christmas in June anyone???
Thank you @reylofanficclub for always being so supportive and kind!
Rey is an overworked med student who falls asleep on the subway late at night and ends up in an unfamiliar part of town. Ben’s a (reluctantly) concerned citizen, who wants to make sure she has a safe place (his place) to stay until the morning.
While waiting for his family to arrive at a restaurant for his “Birthday Dinner” (as his mother insists), Ben meets Bartender Rey. (Then he meets her again after dinner).
Looking for a stress relieving hook-up on Tinder, Rey swipes right on Poe. He doesn’t turn out to be the date she had hoped for, but his roommate on the other hand, might be the geeky fanboy she needed to save the night.
Originally I was planning to share this one later as a part of my upcoming epIX “serie ”…something to bright up these difficult days…Stay strong everyone!
It’s quiet, finally.
Not just in the Falcon, not just in their bed, not just in the warmth and security of her arms.
But quiet…everywhere.
No longer does he have insidious whispers in his mind. The voices once so difficult to differentiate from his own.
Those voices of evil. Of hate. The ones that pushed and prodded him for his entire life into a reluctant existence of howling rage.
He’d always begged for silence. To be free of the burden of those voices, those pernicious and malevolent things.
He’d always known how good it would feel, the quiet.
Had always imagined how sweet and how right it would be.
What he hadn’t anticipated, couldn’t have possibly known, was the sheer perfection, this painfully poignant tenderness, of experiencing it in the arms of someone he loved.
Reblogging again because 1) the artwork is breathtaking by itself and 2) the words by @delia-pavorum are beautifully paired with it and together they feed my soul.
