#briarlily

[mollyhooopers]

briarlily replied to your photoset: Sherlolly Week 2019 Day Five: “But you can’t do...

This is so good!!!

Thank you!! I poured a lot of love into it and I’m happy it shows :)

[shmisolo]

09. Chocolate ?

he can’t tell if it’s weird.  it is, weird, right?  to notice when your girlfriend is running low on tampons because she keeps the box by the toilet.  you’re not supposed to check in there, but he’d just noticed, she leaves it out in the open.  and it’s weirder still because you know she’ll need more soon because her period is pretty regular and you might have stuck it in your google calendar because it’d suck to make plans that aren’t period-conducive when she’s on her period.  not that there’s a problem with making plans for when she’s on her period.  but it’s good to be aware.  if there’s one thing he thinks (he thinks?) he knows, it’s that no one wants to be caught unawares by periods.

no man should ever feel embarrassed buying tampons, got that kid? his father had told him firmly when he was twelve and they were picking up tampons for his mom.  ben had turned bright red, but his dad had refused to be embarrassed by the cashier ringing up the box that clearly neither han nor ben solo would need.

so when he’s picking up more dental floss at cvs, he makes his way to the feminine hygiene aisle, finds the pink–but sporty!!–box that he’s seen in his apartment now for the past six months ever since rey moved in and grabs the regular size because once he’d read over the entire box and learned a lot more about toxic shock syndrome than he’d ever wanted when he was taking a dump and had left his phone in the bedroom.  

he also grabs some more deodorant because rey likes to use his (“it’s nice–smelling like you”) and he runs through it more quickly now before making his way to the self-check out at the front of the store.  

there’s a bit of a line and so he pulls out his phone and checks his messages.  rey is on her way back from a yoga class she’s taking with rose, and his mother had texted, wanting to check in with him about how his new therapist is going.  (fine, mom.  i’m having to rehash snoke now for the twelfth time.  something that never gets old.)  

his eyes fall on a box of hershey bars by the check out.

rey likes chocolate, especially when she’s on her period, which according to his google calendar will be starting tomorrow.  he picks up three bars and adds them to his basket before checking out and heading home.

rey is home already when he lets himself into the apartment and he can hear her in the shower.   he deposits the cvs bag on the couch and knocks on the door to the bathroom.

“yoga ok?” he asks her.

“my abs are sore,” rey complains over the sound of the shower.

“that’s saying something.”  rey has very good abs.  she has a six pack.  he will never be over it–not ever.

“yeah.  trust rose to find the single hardest yoga class.  join me?”

he does, and kisses his way across her stomach, joking that he’ll kiss away the soreness in her muscles.  he washes her hair for her because she always gets this delighted look on her face when he massages her scalp, and then he fingers her until she’s gasping into his shoulder, her hand pumping lazily on his cock until his vision whites out and he’s left with nothing but the taste of her on his lips.

he puts on pajamas and begins cooking them dinner and a few minutes later, rey pokes her head around the door of the kitchen, looking unexpectedly shy considering what they’d just done in the shower and that at this point, neither of them has a secret left that the other doesn’t know.

“you got me chocolate?” she asks as though unsure if she’d guessed right about the contents of the bag and their proximity to the sporty regular tampons he’d got for her.  

“you like chocolate,” he tells her as he stirs the vegetables in the pan.  casual.  he’s trying to sound casual.  he’s just trying to be considerate, after all.  he doesn’t need a reward for trying to be a decent human being.  

all the same, though, his heart swells with the expression on her face and a moment later she’s wrapping her arms around him, kissing him between his shoulder blades and for once in his life, he doesn’t feel like the biggest fuck-up in the world.

[politicalmamaduck]

I am bad at prompts so have some words: cold, yellow, second Feel better! 💜

Thank you so much, my dear @briarlily. I hope you’ll like this!

It would all be over in a second, he knew. He took a deep breath and centered himself in the Force the way he had done his entire life. His life, which was about to end at the hands of the only woman he had ever loved in it.

It was cold, and dark, and her ‘saber glowed yellow in the darkness as she came towards him.

Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, lay bleeding on the ground, the sounds of battle far off in the distance. His troops had abandoned him. Hux had betrayed him.

But here, at the end of all things, was the scavenger he had never been able to remove from his brain, from his life, from his heart.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, and suddenly, Rey appeared standing over him. He flinched, waiting for the killing blow, but it never came.

She closed down her ‘saber and knelt at his side.

“Ben?” she asked, tentatively reaching her hands out to him.

“Rey,” he managed to croak out, blinking back tears.

She put a hand over his wound.

“I can fix this,” she said, and took a deep breath. He felt her centering herself in the Force, watched as her eyes closed and her breathing evened.

“Rey,” he murmured, as his eyes closed too, feeling her surrounding him, feeling her healing his wound. They breathed as one, the Force flowing through them, and suddenly were not alone any longer, for they had each other, would always have each other, and this was not the day they died, at each other’s hands or anyone else’s.

[jeenonamit]

25 for the author asks?

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

This is a tough one to answer because I tend not to have favorite sections of my writing but I did kind of like the very end of the epilogue to The Rebel Side of Heaven so…. here it is ;)——–

“I.. don’t really know how to do this part,” she blurts out suddenly, just as Ben’s reaching into a cupboard for the plates.

Ben pauses, and blinks at her, confused. “This part?”

She huffs out a breath and closes her eyes.

This has been on her mind for weeks. But she’s never known how, or when, to bring it up. The earnest look he’s giving her now, though, over the waffles he woke up at the crack of dawn to make for her–  

She stares down at her feet. “The part that comes after the sex, I mean. The… this … relationship part.” She swallows. “I don’t know how to do it. I’ve… never done it.”

Not like this, anyway.

A beat.

“Oh.”

She chances a glance at him. To her relief, if he’s surprised by her confession, or upset in any way, he shows no sign of it. He only pulls her to him again and kisses her forehead.

He says: “Well, maybe this part… we can learn how to do together.” 

[mnemehoshiko]

WHAT ARE YOUR KPOP OPINIONS

FOR FUCK SAKE’S NOT EVERY SONG NEEDS A RAP BREAK!!!!

how can ur company have so much money but you can’t hired a stylist 

no really please fire them

ombre is not Always Good

oh the artist picked out the clothes??

....

FIRE THE ARTIST THEN

NOT ALL ARTISTS....are bad actors

please don’t stick ur underaged artist (USUALLY GIRLS but sometimes dudes as well) in skimpy clothes (I’M LOOKING AT YOU MOMOLAND)

if you see the safety shorts when they aren’t moving.....maybe you need to rethink the outfit

doubly so if ur shorts have safety shorts

[capaldisrighteyebrow]

Angsty prompt from the angsty prompt list: “I haven’t been okay for a long time.” <3

So, this went in a different direction than I initially anticipated and became more about Rey than Ben? Hope it still hits the angst vibe! 

Set some time after TLJ. Warning: loss of parent angst ~3k

Now on Ao3

                                                          Tokens

The forest wept. Droplets of cool water pitter-pattered around her, falling from the dense canopy of towering trees in a soothing rhythm for the occasion. The hood of the white brocade cloak–an Alderaanian relic unearthed by Maz from an undisclosed location–repelled the moon’s unrelenting tears as she waited near the Falcon.

Over her years with the Resistance, Rey had curated an extensive color palette from the environments of strange, wondrous planets. Greens and blues and grays mixed together to form oceans and forests alike, but she’d decided a year ago that Endor’s appeal stemmed from it’s deep, lustrous browns: the trees, the vines, the soil.

The earth here had weight when held. It didn’t slip through her fingers like the sand of Jakku or scrape her skin like the bedrock of Ahch-To. This soil had heritage–eons of creatures and plant matter decaying in order to sustain new life. A person didn’t need to be sensitive in the Force to feel the magic of this place.

Rey hadn’t understood that at the time when Commander D’Acy had arranged to bring General Organa’s remains here, but she appreciated it now.

Her boots had sunk an inch or more into the soft mud by the time she saw his shuttle break through the stratosphere. At Poe’s request, she and Chewie had arrived hours earlier than the scheduled meeting to scout for potential threats.

“He is still the enemy,” Poe had warned her, finally granting official approval for the act he claimed was too compassionate for the leader of the First Order. “Promise me you won’t forget that.”

She hadn’t forgotten Kylo Ren was a threat.

She also hadn’t forgotten Kylo Ren had ordered a temporary reprieve from battle–a break which the Resistance had used to mourn, to come to Endor and entomb its revered, beloved general.

Across light-years, she had sensed him shake with wracking sobs and strike out in violence. She’d been too distraught at her own failure to protect the Skywalker matriarch, too incensed at Ren’s sanctioned attack–the one which had finally claimed Leia’s life–to speak to him.

During the days and months that had followed, she’d come to understand. At odd hours–in the quietude of her quarters or the solitude of the shower–she would hear him: begging for absolution, whispering pleas for something that would make him forget, that would make him remember, lamenting again and again for the blows he had dealt.

The words were never meant for Rey, only her.

With the anniversary on the horizon, Rey had finally extended an offer she hadn’t been authorized to give: Would you like to see her?

A single word had returned. Yes.

How one syllable could be so broken, she didn’t know, yet he’d intoned each letter with the chime of mourning bells.

Despite Poe’s cautions of duplicity and double-crosses, Rey knew it wasn’t Kylo Ren disembarking the shuttle at the edge of the wood. No mother had birthed the new Supreme Leader.

Leia Organa had only named one child: Ben Solo.

He strode forward, completely alone. Absent were the stormtroopers and personal guards who typically flanked his sides; not even so much as a pilot appeared in the shuttle’s transparisteel. He’d kept his promise, as she had trusted he would.

The ground beneath her shifted as he came to a stop two feet from where she stood. Her eyes roamed unchecked and unhurried, noting the changes in his appearance and attire in the same way he assessed hers. Time on the battlefronts had not been kind to either of them. His gaze narrowed at the scar on her throat–a close call indeed, she responded at his unspoken comment–while Rey’s mapped the lines permanently creased around his mouth, dragging down the edges of his full lips.

The scar she’d drawn across his cheek was no longer hidden by errant strands of hair. He’d twisted the locks at the top of his head, mimicking the style his mother had worn every day after she’d lost Han. Leia had explained the meaning behind many Alderaanian braids to Rey during the interludes between battles and retreats. To see Ben acknowledging his past was startling itself, yet her heart ached to know the occasion which had prompted him to learn this particular expression of grief. Had his mother shown it to him too?

Rey cradled the bouquet of wildflowers she’d scavenged together during her half-hearted scout and held out her free hand.

Ben stared at it, rolling his jaw in consideration. He made no move to take it, though his eyes darted up to hers and blinked softly at the offer. “You lead. I’ll follow.”

She didn’t push; her hand dropped back to her side, disappearing beneath the cloak. Her head turned to the side, glancing down the path that would lead them to Leia’s resting place.

A small gasp followed the movement: “Your hair.”

It isn’t so short anymore, Rey thought as she touched the loose ends curling against her neck. In a few more months, her hair would rest on her shoulders as it used to; for now, it only dusted them when she made a conscious effort. She tucked a strand behind her ear and stayed focused on the reason they were here. “It’s this way. Come with me.”

He fell into step with her, walking off of the narrow, trodden path, occasionally stepping over fallen logs or sidestepping massive ferns. From among the green foliage, light glinted off of curious eyes. Around the trunks, tufts of fur gave away the location of more concealed figures. Ben seemed determined to ignore the native population’s interest in their passage.

“They know,” Rey remarked, a small grin flashing from beneath her hood. “They know who you are.”

Ben regarded the creatures again, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was only a boy when my mother…” he trailed off, clearing his throat.

They didn’t speak again until they’d walked more than a mile deeper into the forest. Rey was glad for the cloak against the sudden chill in the damp air. The trees and undergrowth were thicker here, forcing Ben to walk so close their shoulders brushed.

“Just a little further,” Rey informed him, tugging the cloak from where it had snagged on a branch.

He hummed in acknowledgment, but didn’t make any other effort at conversation. Perhaps the journey through the forest had made him contemplative too. Rey had to stop herself from asking after his thoughts; she was here as an escort, not as a companion.

That distinction didn’t stop her from caring about the answer.

When they reached the heart of the ancient wood, Rey stopped in front of a tree trunk as round as the Millennium Falcon; it was almost as tall too, cutting off several feet above both of their heads. Gnarled roots thicker than her torso spiraled in waves around them, dipping beneath and breaking the surface of the ground like a sea serpent curling through water.

As impressive as the trunk was, the marvel of the location rested on top of the stump: a new tree grew on the surface, roots cascading over the sides of its predecessor, entwining like fingers around the dead wood before burying themselves in the rich soil. While it was new, it certainly wasn’t young. The sturdy trunk stretched impossibly high, pushing its leafy crown up into the canopy created by its neighbors to drink in its bit of sun.

They stood before a holy place.

“She would have complained,” Ben stated with a knowing smile, then added, “My father would have loved it.”

An archway had been carved into the massive stump, acting as an entrance into a hollow space which had been chiseled by the guardians of this place: the Ewoks. Leia had been something of a legend among their tribes, as Rey had come to learn. They’d kept watch over her tomb, making sure to never let the light of the small lantern hanging outside fizzle and die.

Rey lit a long, thin match using the lantern’s flame, then ducked into the entrance of the trunk. She touched the flame to the wicks of several candles mounted along the walls. Orange and yellow streaks licked up toward the ceiling, casting their warm glow around the small space and chasing away the shadows.

Before extinguishing the match, Rey turned to the gilded censer standing next to the smooth stone tablet marking the memorial. She’d watched Lieutenant Connix perform the incense ritual last year and followed the same steps. Heating the charcoal inside until it was red-hot, Rey finally snuffed out the flame before she sprinkled a mix of herbs onto the smoking brick nestled among the censer’s ashes. Soon wisps of aromatic smoke snaked through the air, filling the space with the scents of lavender and poppy.

She placed the bouquet of wildflowers at the base of the stone engraved with Leia’s name, then stood with her eyes closed, letting the incense waft over her as she waited quietly for Ben to join her. Finally, he stepped through the archway. With him beside her, the space felt no bigger than the cockpit of the Falcon.

“It’s quiet.”

Rey returned his earlier hum, agreeing with his observation. Within the trunk, sounds from the outside fell away completely. Chirupping avians, croaking amphibians–even the sounds of the rain–didn’t infiltrate the sanctum. Rey wondered if he found the silence unsettling.

“What is all of this?”

Opening her eyes, Rey followed his gaze around the room, trying to see it through his perspective: bits of flimsi and paper–scavenged from forgotten Rebellion archives–were tacked to the interior walls bearing handwritten messages scrawled in dozens of languages with dark ink. Other trinkets were placed around the chamber; some lined the bottom of the curved wall, while others hung from bits of twine. A few were left on the mantle of the stone housed in the center of the bisecting wall.

“Tokens,” Rey answered, remembering the procession of soldiers and command staff which had filed through the space to leave their offerings. The line had stretched beyond her sight.

Even now, she could discern a few of the items left in Leia’s honor. Poe’s flight wings, the first he’d ever earned as a Resistance pilot, graced the stand holding the smoking censer. A gleaming plaque Rose had welded together from spare datapads and pipe parts rested against the base of the stone; Finn had helped to etch its epitaph: Your hope burns within us. Chewie had hung one of his bandolier’s ammo pouches from the wall. Even Threepio had left the tip of one of his golden fingers behind, leaving his wires exposed.

Ben turned in place, taking it all in with solemn, glistening eyes. Facing the stone once more, he reached out to trace the imprint of Leia’s name. His fingers shook, ghosting over the letters. His mouth opened and closed several times without uttering a word, like a fish gasping for air while stranded on shore. Still lost in his thoughts, his hand came to brace against the mantle, brushing against another token: a thick band of dark hair, elaborately braided and tied off at both ends.

She sensed the moment he understood, that the connection was made in his mind. Her mouth felt dry as Rey defended the offering, “It was all I had.”

Rey had claimed only a few possessions as her own in her life–all repaired from broken wreckage or salvaged from the corpses of dead ships–nothing of value beyond her need for it. Joining the Resistance hadn’t granted her access to much more. She had the Jedi texts and a saber-staff she’d constructed from Luke’s broken legacy, but those things weren’t hers to leave behind.

Leia’s presence had brought forth a feeling from within her that she couldn’t transcribe into words and hang on a sheaf of paper. In the time they’d had after escaping Crait, the general had become her mentor and her confidant. Her friends had been there to listen to her troubles, but none had understood the sense of loss and longing nibbling at her tender heart like Leia. On the loneliest nights, they’d find a quiet corner of the ship or an unoccupied table in the mess hall to exchange stories. More often than not, Rey unburdened her worries and doubts on Leia’s shoulders.

That’s how it had started–with Leia stroking Rey’s hair, mumbling words in a mother’s patient, gentle tone when the pain had become unbearable, when the missing had overcome the anger.

“My mother had hair like yours,” Leia had praised, a fond smile on her lips. “Longer, but just as soft. Just as pretty.”

She’d shown Rey all she knew. How to twist it in variations practical for battle, and how to coil it tightly against her ears. She’d braided it in a crown around her head, and in another form between her shoulder blades. There were nights Rey had stepped into the fresher after Leia’s hands had woven magic and care into her hair and she hadn’t recognize herself in the mirror.

Each twine had been a kind of release, as if tying up their emotions in Rey’s hair kept them secure, out of the way of duties and missions.

Rey had learned much in her time away from Jakku, but Leia was the first person to teach her the art of patience. In the long hours when rest was uncooperative, Rey had practiced the new skill with the same level of dedication she used to train with her saber-staff or meditate on the Force. Her fingers became more certain of themselves with time, though they hadn’t been prepared for their ultimate test–when they’d combed and braided Leia’s hair for the first and the last time.

They’d trembled then.

Not long after, when Rey’s turn to choose her token had been at hand, it came to her naturally: she would give Leia the thing that had made her smile.

It was the least she could offer, the most that she’d had, and it still felt an inadequate tribute to the woman and the warrior she had come to cherish.

Ben turned from the stone to face her, raising a hand to brush against the ends of her hair. There wasn’t a need to explain her token; she could see he understood from the emotion floating in his eyes, tears flowing from the corners. Rey’s hand pressed his against her cheek, silently asking him to wipe her tears from her face as she brushed his away in kind. His caress was warm and familiar, though he’d only touched her like this in dreams.

“Did you bring them?” he whispered, coming close to resting his forehead against hers, but pulling back at the last second.

She nodded and slipped her fingers inside her obi’s pouch to retrieve the item he’d requested. Clinking as they bumped together, the golden dice fell into his waiting palm. His fist swallowed the pair before rolling them back and forth in his fingers, as if testing to see if they were real or if they would disappear. He breathed deeply with relief when they remained.

From his robes, he withdrew a scroll of parchment several layers thick. It was already sealed with a red band, but Ben looped the delicate golden chain around the center, crisscrossing the cubes to secure them in place.

“I was the one that drove them apart,” Ben said, kneeling in front of the stone. “I should be the one to bring them back together.”

He placed his offering on the mantle next to Rey’s braid, keeping his hand on the ledge for several long moments, unable to draw it away. His other hand concealed his eyes, attempting to squeeze the onslaught of fresh tears into submission. Soft, whiffling noises accompanied every inhalation, attempting to stifle his cries, attempting to hold back the emotions he’d hidden for too long.

Rey knelt beside him, the white cloak flaring out in a halo. “Are you okay?”

It was a hideous question to voice when the answer was so clear. But what else could she say?

“I haven’t been okay in a long time,” he confessed, red-rimmed eyes scanning up to meet hers. Inside their depths, Rey saw the boy lost to pain and anger, the one who yearned for his mother. He’d finally come home to her, yet it was too late–much too late.

Her arms slid across his shoulders and brought him close, cradling him as best she could. Sobs rattled against her collarbone while fingers grasped at the nape of her neck, clutching the ends of her hair. Rey channeled the most soothing presence she had known in her life and willed it to calm him.

They rocked together, suspended in stasis, cushioned by the damp earth beneath their knees. The smoke from the censer drifted down to envelope them, coaxing them to peace and rest as the cries trickled away. The only sounds were of their breathing and the rustle of their clothes as they moved.

When Ben flew away from Endor hours later, Rey touched the short, bristled patch by her temple. Another lock was gone, given with another solemn promise.

She’d told Leia she would bring Ben back, no matter how long it took.

The dark twist of hair resting in her palm–and the promise he’d given her in return–made Rey think it wouldn’t be much longer now.

[aionimica]

top 5 things you've created? (fic or art or such?)

hhmmm

1. ashes in our wake

2. kyber crystal bridal crown

3. cup of death

4. the art i did for alone (i can still see your face)

5. my original novel that i completed and edited last year about a girl with death hands

ask me my “top 5 anything”

[futurerustfuture-dust]

Happy birthday! Hope the year to come is a wonderful one!

Thank you so much!! Goodness knows i’m looking forward to a new year haha. You’re too sweet <3