#and two months isnt even that much time but after eleven fucking years it is

[kyuala]

i really feel like im gonna cry but im too numb to at this point

[wizkiddx]

I lovelovelovelove ur writing. Was thinking if u could do one where readers relationship w tom exposed bcos someone recognises her but she isnt famous? And its all backwards and caught out sort of thing

thanks for being so kind! also I feel like me narrator-y voice has gone WAY too far, what do u guys think? I won't be offended promise I just think it sounds so fucking annoying rn

Tom Holland x reader

summary: you run into possibly the most infuriating family members the one time u and ur boy are showing PDA

warnings = none I think :)

///////////////////////

It was a late late evening, on the last train of the night towards manchester, the British countryside plunged into darkness that appeared as a blank, black canvas out the rounded-rectangular windows. 

And although the serene surroundings were calming, the regular and rhythmic movement of the carriage on the tracks - you were more on edge. Your relationship with Tom had yet to be revealed to the world - though you’d travelled as part of his extended entourage before under the guise of a ‘family friend’. So now it just being you, Tom, Harry, Andrew and Rachel - you felt more exposed. Of course, you were incredibly grateful that Tom had planned this weekend away for the two of you (after a work commitment, hence the presence of his manger, makeup artist and Harry). But it was scary.

Coming out of Euston station, the earlier time meant the train had been more of a hive of activity. Kids running up and down the aisle, inevitably recognising Tom and then asking for a photo. Enough that you’d had to move a few seats down the carriage, so no one would associate you travelling with the a-lister. 

But after you’d past Birmingham and the clocks past eleven pm, everything had quietened down and Tom convinced you to come and sit next to him on the table of four.  Andrew and Rachel were taking use of their little duo seat across for you to catch up on some well needed beauty sleep. They’d all been working with Tom doing promo for his most recent movie in London so it’d been pretty 24/7.

That left you, with all the energy, contrasting greatly with the two flagging Holland boys. 

“Lets play heads up!” You announced to the much less enthusiastic faces round the tables. 

“You can’t play that quietly and the whole carriage dont want to listen to you screeching.” Harry rolled his eyes whilst slightly ripping into you, then picking up his phone - thinking that would shut you up.

“I can play quietly!” You huffed, looking for Tom for backing… which never came. He didn’t even need to try and defend himself before you whacked his chest in false-annoyance. 

“ It’s not a bad thing, just passion.” Tom murmured, desperately attempting to sweet talk your round - which of course, was not going to happen. 

“No way! I’ll prove it to you!” 

“Nonono darling, look I’m tired.” He straight refused, wrappings his arms round your shoulders to try and cage you in. He ended up with his back pressed against the window and your back against his chest. “Lemme just relax with my best girl.”  You huffed in reply, worming round in his clutch before eventually giving up and relaxing your head onto his collar bone. For the reasons previously mentioned, you did not for a second believe he was serious with this PDA. Just sitting next to each other was risky enough,  now he was very clearly hugging you in a public place. Arching your neck back, you were shocked he already had his eyes shut - looking perfectly contented and relaxed. 

“T, are you serious?” You whispered, making him crack one eye open with a questioning look. Instantly he knew what you meant, I mean, it was him that was most worried about people finding out about you - for your sake. His horror stories of previous relationships hadn’t helped, to the point now only your mum dad and siblings knew about your relationship to Tom - mainly for the sole reason your nan was the biggest gossip in the world and could NOT be trusted. 

“Course love, it’ll be fine no ones around and I got my cap on. No one will notice us.”

Foolproof. Or so you both thought. 

And honestly for an hour or so you relished in the fact that in a public space, your boyfriend was showing you physical affection. It was exciting, which meant as Tom’s arms grew lax round you as he slumped slightly in the chair your energy only increased. No one else was being any use either - Harry had his head in his arms on the table and similarly neither Rachel nor Andrew were conscious enough to keep you company. Finally you settled on playing a game on your phone whilst also ever so softly wiggling round on Tom’s chest, purely because you enjoyed the little huffs and the way he’d squeeze you tighter as he snoozed. 

You were engrossed in shitty little iPhone game when a person who was walking down the aisle slowed down, drawing your attention away from the phone. And then your heart literally dropped because you instantly recognised your uncle and cousin, who was 12. Worse though, they had most definitely clocked you. 

Of all people, your uncle and boy cousin too. Possible the best (or worst depending on your point of view) at winding you up, at messing  with you, for genuinely causing all chaos and mischief with you. They were most certainly not going to be discrete. They’d rib you till your dying day. 

“Y/n?” Your uncle spoke first, noticing the that the group you with all seemed to be asleep, so at least trying to be a bit sensitive. Not that it mattered on Tom’s part though, you instantly bolted up and away from him, making him groan as he slowly woke up. 

“Er yeh, I-um  fancy seeing you guys here. Why were you in London?” Because yes half your family did live in manchester - a fact you felt slightly guilty about, considering you couldn’t fit in a quick and explainable reason as to  why you were in that area of the UK during a ‘pop in’. So you’d chosen to keep the whole trip a secret too.

“We’ve been at the footie, could ask you the same question.” Your uncle smirked, noticing toward Tom, who now was blinking his eyes heavily - looking with furrowed brows between the two of you. 

Because yes, the cap had been great to stop people recognising Tom. Neither of you were to expect it’d be you that’d be YOU stopped by someone who noticed you. 

“Oh um… well er this is my friend Tom, he’s got a work thing in manchester so thought I’d tag along. What was the score?” Yes you described your boyfriend of 9 months as a friend, when it was clear to everyone you were more than that. Though frankly, you still felt sick introducing him as ‘boyfriend’ - that itself was cringe as hell. The reference to football was an in-vain attempt to distract them with the most-boring-sport-in-the-world talk. If only Tom had kept his mouth shut. 

“Sorry mate” His voice was a little hoarse, making him force a cough before stretching his hand out. “I’m Tom”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ritchie and this is Matt” Your uncle motioned to his twelve year old son who was smiling politely but his expression seemed to drop as he made eye contact with Tom. Blissfully unaware, Tom shook Ritchies hand your a soft smile. 

“How do you guys-“

“I’m her uncle. Tell you what, didn’t imagine bumping into my niece on the 11:30 train to manchester.” 

Tom’s face fell and he froze. You’d both been caught out. Massively. It couldn’t get worse, till it did. 

“Y/n is that Spiderman?” Because yes, Matt was prime Marvel fanboy age. And yes, of course his favourite hero was Spiderman. And yes, this would probably be the most exciting day of his life. And the most embarrassing of yours. 

It was at this point Harry was sufficiently disturbed, enough to make him sit upright whilst also backing away into the corner of the booth, watching from afar.

“I-uh” You didnt really want to say it, for the sake of that meant he was revealing this secret you’d guarded with your life. But at the same time, you had this overwhelming sense of pride for Tom because “yeh, yes he is spiderman.” Matt started jumping up and down like an overexcited boyband fan which made you laugh, heart swelling as Tom chuckled along beside you.

Yes by no means was this ideal. And yes you were now forced to tell your family (so ultimately the world) about your relationship. Maybe that wasn’t so bad though?

hope u enjoyed + thank you for reading <333

tagging: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 11

*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter Eleven, All This Time

Ava

Another shot echoed through the air. "Shots fired! We have an officer down!"

I laid on my back, the late afternoon sky was turning to evening. My head pounded as I watched a cloud float languidly above me. "Winchester! Are you okay?" Lacey was over me. She popped open the buttons from my shirt to examine my wound, and she let out the breath she had been holding.

"You're wearing your vest."

I sat up slowly. "I think I have a serious bruise." I smiled wryly. "But yeah, I think I'm okay." I glanced at the perp. He was face down in the concrete. "We are going to have a lot of paperwork."

"Yup. It's gonna be a late one," she said helping me up.

Back at the station Lacey started on our paperwork, and I went to the bathroom. I unsnapped my bulletproof vest and looked at the massive black and purple bruise on my ribs.

I thought about how the boys and I could've used one in our time hunting. I winced touching the edge of the bruise. In my mind I could see Sam and Deans scars on their chests and arms. The cuts and bullet wounds that they took care of themselves.

Dean and I always talked about how Sam should date a doctor so they could finally stop having to stitch up each other. It didn't matter anymore. We weren't hunting. Sometimes I wondered if Sam missed it. If he missed it like I missed being a detective, and like how I honestly missed hunting.

I pulled my shirt back down and grabbed Lacey and I both coffees. "Sam is going to be pissed when he sees the bruise. He told me to be safe."

"You were safe."

"We have a child," I said with a huff, sitting down. "I'm not supposed to be in armed chases."

"So you and Sam... you're taking the plunge?" Lacey asked handing me my paperwork.

"The plunge is a little dramatic," I said clicking my pen. "But yeah. We are trying. It's only been a few weeks, but it's been nice."

I lied and told Lacey that Dean was a soldier. I told her that he died in Afghanistan. It was the only explanation I had for what we'd all been through, for why I couldn't talk about him. She asked if Sam served too, her brother had and she said that Sam had the look. Like he'd been through the shit.

"I think it's good that you two are trying. You should be happy."

"Thanks Lace." I signed my name at the end of the first form. "I really should call him. He's going to be worried."

"Hey, go ahead and go home. I'll finish up here and help you tomorrow. You've got a tall dark and handsome man to see." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"I wouldn't call him dark." I winked at her. "But, yeah, thanks. I'd like to go home and see him and Nel."

I grabbed my purse and jacket. I was going home to see my family. We were a family, and things were finally good. I was finally feeling happy again.

Dean

I gasped, feeling shallow air enter my lungs for the first time in what felt like a life time. I didn't realize that there wasn't air in Hell. What fueled the fire, then?

I couldn't see shit, so wherever I ended up was dark. I was laying on my back and when I reached out and around there were walls on all side of me. I reached into my pocket for my phone or anything to provide some light. My body felt stiff, and my were fingers sore. I pulled out my zippo lighter and flicked it a few times before it came to life.

I was in a wooden coffin. "Shit." I coughed. My mouth and throat was so dry I could barely speak. I closed my eyes. What the hell am I going to do?

I reached down and pulled my knife out of my boot, barely able to move that way. I jimmied the edge of the coffin and held my breath, and pushed the lid out of the way. The dirt loosened around the coffin, pouring in around me.

Keep it together Dean. You've been through worse.

We had practiced this, when I was a kid. Dad would shove me in the box and close the lid.

"You have to be prepared for anything, Son. Remember there will be a lot to work through. Don't breathe in the dirt or you'll suffocate."

I had nightmares for years about being buried alive. Guess I owed him a whiskey after all.

I dug upwards, knocking dirt away with my knife, my fingers gripping at the clots of dirt and rocks. The ground was cold, and my skin stung. The darkness felt endless, and I hoped whoever buried me was lazy about it and didn't stick me more than six feet under.

My chest pounded. I'd always been claustrophobic, but this was my literal nightmare. All I could see was Ava. If I was back I had to see her, but there was still a chance that I was still in Hell. That this was just a new form of torture.

I wanted to stop then, to let the darkness take me, but like always, she came to me.

Dean you can do this. Break through and come home to me. I've been waiting.

In my mind she is still pregnant, just like I left her. Even if I was still in Hell, I had to try. I owed her that much.

I pushed up further with all of my strength, thrusting the knife upward. A beam of light came into the hole I was in. My hand broke through the soil, and I could feel the sun on my skin.

My hands felt dried grass as I pulled myself up, sucking in fresh air. I gasped a few times, laying on my back. I stared at the sky just feeling everything. For the first time in so long I wasn’t feeling any pain.

I stood up slowly and looked around me to find any indicator of where I was. In the circle around my grave marker a dozen trees laid on their side, as if they bent right over, all in a perfect circle.

It was weird, but so was rising from the grave so I didn't feel the need to stick around. I moved slowly to the road, needing a phone. Needing a drink. Anything. Any sign that this was all real.

I pushed forward, my skin itching from being underground. I slid off my flannel and tied it around my waist. I wanted to spit, to get the dirt out of my mouth, but there was no moisture inside of me. How long have I been gone?

A pit grew in my stomach. If I'd been gone as long as I thought, Ava would be old. My daughter would be grown up. Dad and Bobby would be... I shook of the thought. If this was a mind game it was a damn good one.

I spotted a connivence store ahead of me, and I picked up the pace. It was old and run down, and there were no cars around it. I knocked a few times. "Hello?" I croaked. Even if there was someone there they wouldn't be able to hear me.

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my flannel around my arm as I sent my elbow through the glass on the front door. I let myself in and immediately went to the cooler. I pulled out a bottle of water and sucked it down.

I'd never felt anything better than the cold water running down my dry, cracked throat. It tasted almost sweet. If water tasted that good I couldn't even imagine having a beer again.

I had to pull back so I could breathe. My lungs opening. Fresh air. It was all surreal. I walked around the store, still suckling my bottle. There was a stand near the back wall with newspapers stacked. I picked one up to check the date. April 12th. My heart sunk. It wasn't as long as I thought, but if this was right... I'd been gone for four months. My daughter and my wife were out there somewhere. They had to be.

I made my way to the bathroom. I needed to splash my face. I needed some clarity. I turned on the water, taking it in my hands. It felt good on my raw skin. My muscles tight from being stagnant for four months.

I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. I was ripped apart the night that I was drug to hell, but yet when I lifted my shirt there were no scars. I looked under my left sleeve and then my right. My breath hitched in my throat. My right shoulder held a pink scar. Still fresh. It was barley healed. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was a handprint.

"Fuck, Sammy what did you do?"

I walked toward the front, to collect some supplies when the tv turned on next to me. It was all static. I clicked it off only for it to turn back on. The radio clicked on as well. I reached immediately, just like I was taught, and I grabbed salt off the shelf and poured it around the window. I glanced back at the tv. Something was happening. A high pitched ringing came to my ears. I covered one, but it just got louder. I dropped the salt, my hands covering my ears. My ear drums were going to explode.

The glass windows cracked and exploded in an instant, sending me to the floor, covered in glass. The noise stopped, and I looked around. No cold spots. What the fuck is going on?

I opened the cash register for some coins. I went outside to the pay phone, because my cell was dead in my pocket. I slipped a coin in and dialed Sams number from memory. "The number you have tried to reach has been disconnected.” Ava's was disconnected too.

Something was wrong. I tried Bobby next. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello?"

"Bobby?"

"Who is this?"

"It's me."

"Whose me?"

"It's Dean..." I began, my throat still hoarse.

Click.

I groaned and slid another coin in. I dialed his number again.

"Listen, I don't know who this is, but it isn't funny. You call here again, and I'll kill ya." Click.

I rubbed my face. I wasn't sure where I was. I couldn't place it, but there was an old car parked near the phone booth. I shook my head and pushed out of the phone booth to hot wire it.

I planned to head straight to Bobby's. I didn't know what happened while I was gone, but if Ava and Sams phones were off there'd be no guarantee that they'd be at the house, but Bobby was still at home. That was a start.

—————————-

I knocked on his door. I drank five bottles of water and ate some jerky on the drive up. I was feeling a lot better, but not as good as I felt when Bobby swung the door open.

He looked good, and I realized then how much I missed him. "Surprise!"

Bobby's mouth hung open. His eyes squinted. "I don't..."

"Yeah, me neither," I said stepping through the door. "But here I am."

He came at me with a knife. I dodged him and put a chair between us. "Bobby it's me!"

"The hell it is!" He came at me again.

"Wait wait! Your name is Robert Singer, you became a hunter when your wife was possessed by a demon, your niece is Ava Langston. I married her even though you told me no... Bobby it's me."

He pushed the chair out of the way and reached out slowly to touch me. His hand rested on my shoulder for a split second before he came at me again.

I pushed him out of the way, managing to take his knife from him. "I'm not a shape shifter!"

"Then you're a revenant!"

"If I was either could I do this with a silver knife?" I asked, groaning internally. I sliced my upper arm, feeling the familiar sting of blade against flesh.

"Dean?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"It's good to see you, Son. How did you bust out?"

"I don't know.. I just.."

My face was wet. Bobby had taken his flask of holy water and doused me with it. If I weren't so damn happy to be alive I'd be annoyed. I took my sleeve and wiped it off. "I'm not a demon either. Satisfied?"

"Better safe than sorry." He shrugged. "This doesn't make any sense... you were ripped to shreds. Even if you got out you shouldn't have had a body to come back to. What do you remember?"

"Nothing," I lied, my jaw tense. "Sammy and Ave’s phones are turned off... are they?"

Bobby sat up a little straighter. "They're okay. They're still living at the house, they just wanted out. The last few months have been tough. We had to bury you."

"Why did you bury me?"

"I wanted to salt and burn you, ya know the hunters funeral, but Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well," I said, touching my solid form. "I guess I'm glad he won that argument."

"He said you'd need your body when he brings you back home somehow."

"Well he brought me back alright, but whatever he did has bad mojo. Something blew past me at a gas station and then there's this." I pulled up my sleeve to show him the hand print.

"What the hell?"

"Looks like a demon pulled me out of Hell."

"But why?"

"To hold up its end of the bargain." I turned, sending my fist into the wall.

"You think he made a deal?" Bobby didn't look convinced.

"Yeah, I do. It's what I would've done."

Sam

"Who are you?" I asked, grabbing for the knife and the holy water in the side table near the door.

"I'm Dean." He looked confused.

I grabbed the knife and lunged at him, but he grabbed ahold of me. "This shit again?" He grumbled, taking my blade. "Look," he said, cutting his forearm. "Not a shifter, not a revenant. Give me the holy water."

I looked at him curiously, but I complied. He took a swig of the flask and let me go. "Dean?"

"I know... I look fantastic." He gave his classic wide grin, and I pulled him into a hug. He was solid. He was here.

He squeezed me back before releasing me. "So tell me," he began, stepping into the house. "What did it cost?"

"What did what cost?"

"Getting me out. Did you just sell your soul or is it something worse?"

I frowned. "Dean, I didn't sell my soul. I tried. I tried everything and no one would deal. I don't know how you got back, but it wasn't me. It's been tearing me up I knowing I couldn't save you."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No. I'm not. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Sammy. I believe you."

We looked between each other. We wanted to know, how did he get out?

He walked into the living room, picking up a framed photo of Ava. One that he'd taken. "Where... where is she, Sam?"

I swallowed hard. "She's at work."

His shoulders looked relaxed. "She's back to work? Where?"

"She just started working as a detective again. She should be home soon."

I wanted to warn her, but I didn't know what I'd say. I made love to her this morning, and now he's back.

"And..." He laid the picture down. "And what about Peanut?"

I smiled. "She's great. She's with Dad."

He crossed his arms and stepped toward me. "You let Dad take her?"

"He's actually really good with her," I said awkwardly.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hopefully better than he was with us."

"Much better," I agreed.

"Good... that's good." He slowly lowered himself onto the couch.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it like?"

He glanced up at me. "What was what like? Hell?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly, Sammy, I don't remember a damn thing."

I looked at him, and with the way that his forehead was wrinkled and his hands were clasped together. I knew he was lying.

—————

Chapter Twelve, Lanterns

Get caught up!

Tag List:

@xjamiedennettx

@deans-baby-momma

@sonnierae26

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

a language that i never knew existed before - Day 12

For @dawninthemtn, who asked for a modern AU in which “Ben Solo keeps trying to cancel his Book-A-Month subscription service, but just can't seem to say no to the friendly customer service agent”.

This was so much fun to write, especially since it allowed me to sneak some epistolary storytelling into this collection. Thanks for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy the ficlet!

Reylo fam! ‘Tis the season for giving, so come get your very own holiday ficlet right here!

25 Days of Reylo Also available on AO3

JUNE

To: custservice@resistancebooks.com From: ben_solo@gmail.com Subject: Cancellation/refund

My friend used my credit card to sign me up for a one-year YA subscription as a prank. I didn’t realize until the first box arrived today. I’d like to cancel the subscription and just pay for the box I’ve already received, if that’s okay.

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com Subject: Re: Cancellation/refund

Hi, Ben! I’m so sorry to hear about your experience with our service.

Our refund policy allows you to change your mind anytime and get a full refund for boxes not yet received. But might I suggest changing boxes instead? At $29.99 per month for a box of three books with a combined retail value of up to $59.99, we’re the most affordable book service in the country! If YA isn’t your thing, we offer eleven other standard boxes, along with an option for customization.

If you’d like to give us a second chance, please take this quick quiz to determine the best box for you. The results will automatically be emailed to me upon completion, and I���d be happy to guide you through the selection process.

Best regards, Rey Niima, Customer service representative, Resistance Books.

JULY

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com Subject: First box!

Hi, Ben!

Your first sci-fi/fantasy box just shipped out today, and should reach you within three working days. I hope you enjoy the selection, and thank you again for choosing to stick with us!

If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me!

Best regards, Rey Niima, Customer service representative, Resistance Books.

To: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com From: ben_solo@gmail.com Subject: Re: First box!

Hi, Rey.

Three working days, just like you said. Everything looks okay, thanks for your help.

Regards, Ben.

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com Subject: Re: Re: First box!

Hi, Ben!

I’m glad to hear the box arrived on time! If you don’t mind, please keep me informed on how you like the selection. I’ve got a few other suggestions for you based on your quiz results, and I’d be happy to switch your subscription if you’re not absolutely pleased with the sci-fi/fantasy box.

Best regards, Rey Niima, Customer service representative, Resistance Books.

To: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com From: ben_solo@gmail.com Subject: Re: Re: Re: First box!

Hey, Rey.

I think that might be for the best. Sci-fi just isn’t what it used to be. Or maybe I’ve changed; it’s been a while since I last read anything in that genre.

Of course, if that’s too much trouble you can always just go ahead and process my refund. I’d hate to take up more of your time.

Regards, Ben.

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: First box!

Hi, Ben!

It’s no trouble at all! I first joined Resistance back when it was an actual store, and I’ve always loved matching readers up with the right book. As long as you’re okay with it, I’d like to keep going until we find you the right match.

My next suggestion for you based on your quiz results is one of our non-fiction boxes, the history/anthropology combo. Please let me know by the 23rd of this month if you’re interested in that so that I can arrange for the switch and shipping.

Best regards, Rey Niima, Customer service representative, Resistance Books.

AUGUST

To: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com From: ben_solo@gmail.com Subject: New box

Hi, Rey. The box just arrived today, and the selection is perfect.

So perfect that I already pre-ordered all three of them earlier this year.

I think it’s pretty obvious that this service and I just aren’t meant to be, as great as it is. I really do appreciate all of your help, especially you taking the time to discuss books with me off the clock, but it’s probably time to call it.

Unless you’ve got a third suggestion?

Sincerely, Ben.

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: r_niima.custservice@resistancebooks.com Subject: Re: New box

What can I say? I’m good at my job – too good, in this case.

I’ve got at least three more suggestions for you, if you’d like to keep going. And your box should have come with a return ticket, if you’d like to send it back; I don’t see the point in you keeping the duplicates, unless you have a friend with the same unique taste in books? I’d be happy to process the return and credit it to your account. Same goes for your first two boxes; I’m sorry I forgot to mention it earlier.

I’ve actually really missed talking about books with someone, so really, thank you for humoring me. If you ever feel like debating the SWEU again, feel free to reach me at 555-3494. I like that things can get heated when we talk about those books, but it’s probably for the best if I don’t argue with a customer on my work email.

Best regards, Rey Niima, Customer service representative, Resistance Books.

SEPTEMBER

Rey: So technically we’re not supposed to tell anyone about this yet But Wait You still collect comics, right?

Ben: You make me sound like a teenage boy. I collect graphic novels, yes. Why?

Rey: You say potayto, I say potahto ANYWAY I know you’re not 100% happy with the customized box

Ben: They’re your picks for me, of course I’m happy with them.

Rey: Ben

Ben: I am! I’m just not happy with the fact that I barely get any time to read. And when I do get an hour to myself, my brain is too tired for anything intellectual.

Rey: You cutthroat lawyers and your ridiculous endless work Back to my point

Ben: You have one?

Rey: Very funny, Solo Okay so next month we’re announcing a special new box Limited time only And we’re only opening it up to 200 subscribers

Ben: Sounds like a big deal. What do we get, hand-bound manuscripts?

Rey: Even better Two trades and a hardcover, no extra charge

Ben: You’re kidding me.

Rey: Nope Completely serious You in?

Ben: Hey, Rey? No offence but that’s the stupidest question you’ve ever asked me.

Rey: Whatever, nerd I’ll sign you up

Ben: You’re my favorite person right now, thank you.

Rey: Careful, Solo Keep saying nice shit and I might actually start to like you

Ben: And we wouldn’t want that, of course.

Rey: Of course

OCTOBER

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: custservice@resistancebooks.com Subject: Congratulations!

Hi there, Ben!

Your assigned customer service representative recently entered you for a chance to win one of our 200 limited-time-only comic box subscriptions.

We’re very pleased to let you know that you made the cut! As of next month, you’ll start receiving two trade paperbacks and a hardcover volume each month for the remaining duration of your subscription. We also noticed that you have seven months left with us, and as a sign of our appreciation we’d like to offer you the chance to add on another five months at the standard rate of $29.99 per month in order to receive a full year’s worth of comic boxes. If you’re interested, please contact your assigned customer service representative by the 31st of this month.

Congratulations again, and we hope you enjoy your boxes!

Best regards, Paige Tico, Head of customer service, Resistance Books.

.

Rey: Did you get the email???

Ben: Just read it. Can’t wait for the first box. Thanks, Rey. By the way, sign me up for the extension thing.

Rey: Can you believe how far we’ve come? It feels like just yesterday that you were trying to cancel your subscription at every turn

Ben: For what it’s worth, I’m glad I didn’t. So fucking glad. I wouldn’t have gotten to know you otherwise.

Rey: Stop, you’ll make me cry Ben? I’m happy we’re friends too

NOVEMBER

Rey: Is it there yet?

Ben: Rey. It’s been two hours. I haven’t even left the office yet.

Rey: Okay, NOW is it there yet?

Ben: Still at work. You’re the one who shipped it, can’t you track the package or something?

Rey: I could But I think I prefer it this way

Ben: Of course you do. You’re lucky I have no other friends.

Rey: As if you’d stop talking to me even if you had a hundred other friends I’m your favorite

Ben: Says who? Maybe Poe’s my favorite. I’ve known him since childhood, after all.

Rey: Poe is a prankster and you fucking hate him

Ben: I wouldn’t say hate.

Rey: Ben He stole your credit card and signed you up for a year’s worth of YA books

Ben: And if he hadn’t done that, you and I would never have met.

Rey: We haven’t Met, I mean Shit I don’t even know what you look like BRB, I’m gonna go stalk you on social

Ben: Honestly, I just assumed you already did.

Rey: Wow, I’m offended HOLY HELL, BEN

Ben: So you’ve found me. If this is about the ears no, I don’t know what the fuck’s going on there either. No one in my family does.

Rey: What ears? Your ears are FINE, silly I was talking about your hair Christ, do you shampoo with unicorn blood or something???

Ben: That would be very soulless lawyer of me, wouldn’t it?

Rey: Shut up, you’re not soulless Funless, maybe, but I’d like to think I’m helping with that

Ben: You are. In the interest of fairness, I’m going to stalk you too.

Rey: Not much to see, but go right ahead Ben? Wow did I scare you off already? And here I thought that was a decent picture

Ben: Shit, sorry. Got pulled into a meeting. It’s a great picture.

Rey: You don’t have to say that

Ben: Well, it is and I mean it. And… I hope this isn’t creepy but I love your smile.

Rey: Not creepy at all By the way I like your eyes

DECEMBER

To: ben_solo@gmail.com From: a_holdo@resistancebooks.com Subject: Come celebrate the holidays with us!

Hi, Ben!

Did you know that before Resistance Books went online and became the #1 book delivery service in the country, we were a tiny little indie store known as Gatalenta?

This holiday season, we’re returning to our roots – and we’d love for you to join us! Resistance Books will be participating in the annual Coruscant Christmas Market with our very own pop-up store from the 15th of December onwards!

This is a great time for you to come on by and check out the full range of our diverse offerings. And if something catches your eye, you’ll be able to bring it home with you for the same incredibly reasonable rate you know and love – pick any three books from our store for just $29.99!

We hope to see you there!

Warmest wishes, Amilyn Holdo, Founder and president, Resistance Books.

.

Rey: Hey, did you get the email about the pop-up store?

Ben: Yeah, I was just about to text you. I just realized your boss is a friend of my mom’s. Anyway, this is probably extremely unlikely but Will you be there?

Rey: Seriously?? That’s so weird And yes, actually I’ll be helping out 21st-25th, 11AM-8PM

Ben: You’re working on Christmas?

Rey: You know me Not like I’ve got anything else to do

Ben: Okay, feel free to say no but… What if I go on Christmas? We’d get to discuss books in person And maybe after your shift we could hang out? I haven’t been to the CCM in years, but Maz’s Cantina used to make the best hot chocolates.

Rey: Books, hot chocolate, and finally getting to meet my mysterious Internet stranger? Ben Solo, you’ve got yourself a date

Ben: Great! I mean Cool. I can’t wait. See you then.

Rey: See you!

Ben: Hey, so I just woke up and you’re not here Which is fine, it’s your choice to make And last night can be whatever you want it to be But… Rey, I know what I want it to be I know we moved fast, but yesterday meant a lot to me You mean a lot to me I just… I just want to make sure you know that before you make a decision And the decision’s yours to make, completely I’ll go along with whatever you want As long as we’re at least still friends Because I don’t think I could bear to lose you entirely, Rey Fuck, I don’t think I could bear to lose you at all Shit, sorry, that’s too much I’ll stop now Just… text me back, please?

Rey: Babe I’m in the kitchen Hurry up, breakfast is getting cold And Ben? You mean a lot to me too ❤

This is a little over two thousand words and stopped being about tsundoko about halfway through (if it even was in the first place), but it was such a fun idea to play with and I hope the format doesn’t get in the way of the story. I thought emails and texts would help me keep things short, but obviously that didn’t pan out.

Anyway, thanks for reading as always and I hope you liked it. Please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment!

[haeroniel-doliet]

gah another 5 am post eh fellas

fuck i really wanna do ballet. i really rarely become obsessed (if ever) with anything, but for once i’m so so so so soso wanting to do ballet. so bad. i know i might hate it bc im fucing not musical at all, so not in shape, so not comfortable or etc. but at least im 18,(wait fuck 19 now)  and not 45 trying to get in it all stiff and stuck and i think based on all the sweet positivity to adult ballet starters beginners and sure i wont perform professionally but fuck man i dont think i need that. i just want that grace and flexibility and elegance and gah itd be fabulous. i mean even now im pretending to look for turn out and walk around the house like they do in point shoes and i try fix my posture tothe advice by a ballet dancer youtuber who ive been watching so much of. i just i really wanna do it. 

saddest fucking thing is guys, that i could’ve had the chance to go to the fucking royal ballets adult absolute beginner classes. in london. i could have. fuck. u wanna know what happened? i found out about it like a month or two ago and was fucking psyched bc its one of those things that just is too good to be true. the best company in uk?? w adult classes? while im in london?? yeah id have to miss a few weeks bc. whoops i gotta go back up to do my exams,but i couldve at least done a few weeks, come back and done a few last so i’d have had the best opportunity to give this a go in the best environment and then have a kindling to go off with to other available ballets. and not start with some barely managing person in a shitty studio thing. idk. sure so i tell my parents so fuckin excited bc look! its possible! but yeah its expensive, wouldve been abt 90 pound w me being a student and id have to miss 3/10 classes. but still! thin of it gah its making me so sad happy. sad bc guess its now sold out. of fuckin course it is. i told my mom and she just was uhmm ohh i dunno i dunno, oh its adults i could do it, and thinking that maybe getting her involved would mean i have a better chance of going, dont care much for her company but if shed take it as a bonding thing hell, i’ll probably do better than her in class and minor confidence boost as well as if they all others are old old i wont be alone. and she could pass over what they learned when im up in scotland. Guess that was a fuckin mistake. she got all nervous and self concious and put it off with a we’ll see we’ll see about it im thinking. and making it a whole thing like instead of me wanting to go so bad and offering for fun that shed join me, as if im trying to pressure her into doing it and would only go along to make her feel better. uh.... fucking wrong! im so mad actually. bc of course, no matter how often i mentioned it she wouldnt take it seriously to even consider booking me in! no no of course not we’ll see. and then i check before im coming back, dreading and being right that yep. theyre fucing sold out. of course they are its such a fanstastic opportunity! my only fucking opportunity! when ever again am i going to live in london with weeks free to go participate in that? when ever again? never. theyre moving out of london this summer and fuck. just doing some research and the scottish ballet is in fucking glasgow. yes i was supposed to get there if i hadnt been so shit with studying for my exams. (sure i wouldnt be doing archery and wouldnt have all the other wonderful things i now enjoy in aberdeen but fuck its frustrating) and ofc. aberdeen seems to have: one shady dance company that offers ballet fusion. not adult ballet classes. another shady school that practices at robert gordons that have no website nothing. no info how to sign up or if they have adult classes or when its so stupid and weird. maybe ill have to contact them directly idk. sure my uni has a what seems to be a thriving dance society that i have a glitched out membership for. (its 50 pound a year and i have cerrainly not paid that) and i guess they do ballet on the side. but again from a glance around, looks its only intermediate. not beginners. dont think theres that many uni age girls who just wanna start ballet now. 

so it looks bleary. even in finland, i cant understand body parts in finnish so that might just be frustrating if i could even find a place that offers it. not that i’ll have long at all in finland. ill be there barely a month before heading back to uni and i come back holidays. if i wanted to take one of these eleven week courses, i think id have to geta fuckin liscence and a car and drive to glasgow 3 hrs both ways for a class once a week and that sjust stupid. im so fucking mad about this missed opportunity. like my muscles are itching and aching to do it. my legs want to work out in ballet positions. they just rly do. yeah maybe ill have to start doing barre at home from videos to try ease that, but its not gonna be the same and ill do it all wrong bc i have no teacher to direct me or anything. correct either. sure if i had done it and loved it i might still be mad that i have no opportunities to continue like i want to, but at least id have that expereince and could keep practicing at home based off of it.  i am genuinely upset okay. upset betrayed disappointed sad twitchy and ugh. sure tickets go on sale today to swan lake after exams. and by fuck will i go see it. and ill get all the background before it and know it inside and out before i see it (already kinda do) and i will love it. ill bemaybe more upset and more twitchy that i cant do it, that i cant be lie them and that rly sucks. i really really wish by some miracle the school would offer summer courses so that i could just, get myself after exams into one. also another frustrating thing not quite so pressing on my mind is how my dad wants me to get summer jobs, maybe even two. one here and one in finland. sure it should theoretically be easier getting it here, esp. since im 19 now and yeah. i could work in a cafe or store just to get money and have smth to put on a cv thats not 2 weeks. but i dunno i dont particularly want to, i was hoping in london i could get the most of it culturaly (considering ive been a pouting and sad whailer whos not done anything for the last two years) then again i have p much no friends here so if i did go work somewhere theres a slight chance thered be someone i get along with and could hang out w. or visit if i needa back in london. i dunno. things are weird. sure i could try get an admin job w nhs like some lady suggested but its one of those too much responsibilty things, consdiering im shit with work i kinda would prefer to do some physical job like stacking shelves in a shop bc im good at that. but thats not gonna help me in the future. money yes, but cv building or careers wise? nah. i should owrk in hospitality or smth i dunno even i can barely get thru my work to pass rn so  i dunno about job searching. im jsut a mess am i not. regardless maybe i should look if theres other ballet schoolsin london. be desperate, get a job and a ballet class going over summer and do art on the free time i guess. 

okay so fer now ive found a course for like fucking 156 pound thats a 2 day full days course that looks mad cool for having different classes to learn vocab and etc and then a bit of fucking swanlake like yooo.. best thing its in like july but thats also possibly bad bc its july 28-29 and july 30 we move out. man it could be cool tho. then they offer there as well a taster session p much every other week and then a full 8 weeks of class p near by to me. sure this is specifically taught by a man and id prefer a woman but, i guess. since its ideal timing and place. and i got wondering why thats 150 and the national ballet wouldve been abt 90 and i guess there i get concession and it wouldve been only 6 classes considering the dates they had off. i should rly ask if they do do concession bc 150 is a bit steep still. for 8 classes thats almost 20 pound for 75 mins. its kinda insane. theres probably more companies i havent looked at but there is one other thats like a drop in thing 10 pound cash each class and thats a 90 mins so it might be better. ofc. obv. fault being that its drop in so being an absolute beginner w likely a lot older adults idk how id fit in or keep up or get hte most of it. i think ill go try it once regardless. then when back in abdn ask around for taster sessions and beginner ballet. worst comes to worst i wait another 4 years till i get to a big enough city that they have a nice ballet company and somewhere i can live like an adult but also get in on adult ballet and enjoy myself. maybe my industrial placement city will have  a ballet company idk. 

all i know is that im a bit obsessed and everyone says to go for your dreams etc. and as much as i enjoy archery (slowly gonna dedicate to it) and aikido (though training can be frustrating and training with old men isnt that fun) and ice skating is another less of a dream but in the same realm as ballet. that im gonan get new skates for and give it a better try. i just think ballet could  be so fucking rad and im sad that its not so easy rn. and that my mom fucked me over. for that one course that couldve been cheap and amazing and mindchanging. to go to the ballet knowing what some of it feels like would be great. sure id love  a chance to do some after as well u know. ofc it sucks it might cost a couple hundred over summer to these hobbies and i feel iffy spending 180 on a quality waterproof jacket. sure. they spend it but, im v concientious and dont wanna spend much of their money esp cus im not making my own. i guess logically, i should put a bunch of effort to getting thru this term rly well without lies and get a sumemr job. that way, i could theoretically take loan from my parents  and pay back with summer job money w some left over to do as i like with (yeah i should save it for sensible shit but idk) also considering how nice i am my dad might not even want me to pay back. look i dunno. thats an idea. be good, be rewarded w ballet classes and an unstrained relationship w my parents, joyously move back to finland and start next term w a clean slate, hopefully more help and new determination into hobbies. maybe i wanna do 4 sports since i never did much as i was younger. tho sure, i did aikidos cousin taekwondo. ive shot a bow and arrow whenever i had a chance. ive skated since literally like 3 yrs old. and i used to take a form of dance a alot younger. sure no musicality but i think the exercises would be great for my knees and legs and butt and torso and posture. htese are fun sports since i dont like to work out. and since im not comfortable enough in myself to go swim.