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peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
gal ✨🦋🍂
@peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
240 followers 120 following 2.7K posts
reader, writer, editor | lover of em dashes and italics | old enough to remember the dark days before ao3 | minors dni | she/her

archiveofourown.org/users/PeculiarGalaxies
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peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
the fluffy, smutty epilogue of "an unenviable fate" is on the way! 💌 (cw: allusion to pregnancy)
Do you suppose you will still be home this Wednesday eve? Five days did not seem so very long when we parted, but—oh! you must forgive me a little sentimentality and not take it as cause for true concern—I have been restless at night and all the warming pans in the world cannot make up for the warmth of my husband. I admit, too, that this month’s symptoms continue to include the kind of hunger that cannot be sated by anything from the kitchens, and I am aching to have you in any (or perhaps every) way possible. Now, do not mistake the above for complaint or recrimination. I stand by what we agreed, which is that Alderaan must be represented in Parliament; and if you did not vote as your father’s proxy, he should be obliged to go; and furthermore, if I accompanied you, your parents would come regardless, defeating the whole purpose of sparing the rest of us a muddy, miserable journey. You know all this, but I have written it out regardless as a reminder that there is no need to feel guilty nor to call for the carriage at this very minute—only that I dearly hope to have you in my arms again soon. With all my love, always, Your wife, Rey Solo
November 26, 2025 at 10:07 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
spare

M | complete | 2k #reylofic #rffa

🖤 enemies to lovers
🤍 Knight of Darkness Kylo x Paragon of the Light Rey
🤍 angst with a happy ending

🌥️ archiveofourown.org/works/74512491
moodboard with an image of Rey holding Ben's face, both of them dirty and bloodied. the title, spare, is in capital letters at the bottom, above the words by peculiar galaxies and r f f a flash fic 2025. at the top is a small graphic of three heart shapes, one a solid teal color and the other two washed out and faint. She’s cradling his head in her lap and tracing the line of her scar, the one she left him with in that snow-shrouded forest. He reaches up a hand and lays it over hers, holding her warm, dry palm against his clammy skin, right where her sunlight once branded his flesh. “It’s the only one that doesn’t hurt,” he tells her. Kylo died twice during the war. The Light's greatest hero spared him once. Now she's here, ten months into his exile, somehow both muddier and more radiant than in his dreams.
November 25, 2025 at 1:49 AM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
2/2
His tongue sweeps over his lips once more, and his gaze doesn’t waver from her face. Rey is the first to look away, with a glance down at the rest of the mess he made—all over his breeches and tunic, but not a drop on her dress. “Since you were so good,” she tells him, not missing the way he twitches at her words, “I suppose you can be permitted to clean yourself up, too.” With a wave of her hand, Rey unlocks his handcuffs. She pulls a handkerchief from her bodice and tosses it at him, stepping out of reach in case he lunges at her. When he doesn’t, she’s not sure whether to feel insulted or flattered. Contrary to her own common sense, she leans in again, until she can whisper her next words with her lips brushing his ear. “Don’t touch yourself while I’m away,” she commands. A nip to his earlobe makes him shudder. “I’ll know.” Rey steadies her own breathing as she exits the cell, projecting the haughty confidence that she dons with greater ease than her gowns. The guard at the end of the hall salutes her as she passes. “Big guy still won’t talk, ma’am?” “Not yet.” Rey’s steps, and her confidence, do not falter. “And he’s not to be disturbed, understood? This is a delicate interrogation.”
November 22, 2025 at 8:17 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
// prisoner Kylo Ben, nsfw, dub-con if you squint. #reylofic #dyadprompts **1/2**
backlit image of Rey looking down at Kylo with their faces barely an inch apart, both of them in silhouette still. Rey shoves her own fingers, sticky with his spend, into the prisoner’s mouth. “Suck,” she orders. “Clean up the mess you made.” The captured knight’s big brown eyes hold hers as plush lips seal around her fingers; when she pulls her digits out of the wet heat of his mouth, he leans forward to lick an errant drop from her wrist. “Good boy,” she murmurs. “If you don’t have anything to say tomorrow, maybe we’ll put that mouth to better use, hmm?”
November 22, 2025 at 8:17 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
NEW #reylofic for @reyloffanth.bsky.social's flash fic challenge

M | complete | 2k

spare

🖤 enemies to lovers, featuring:
🤍 the dubious comfort of blaming ptsd on bad necromancy
🤍 Kylo Ben and his refusal to sing communal village songs
moodboard with an image of Rey holding Ben's face, both of them dirty and bloodied. the title, spare, is in capital letters at the bottom, above the words by peculiar galaxies and r f f a flash fic 2025. at the top is a small graphic of three heart shapes, one a solid teal color and the other two washed out and faint. She’s cradling his head in her lap and tracing the line of her scar, the one she left him with in that snow-shrouded forest. He reaches up a hand and lays it over hers, holding her warm, dry palm against his clammy skin, right where her sunlight once branded his flesh. “It’s the only one that doesn’t hurt,” he tells her. Kylo died twice during the war. The Light's greatest hero spared him once. Now she's here, ten months into his exile, somehow both muddier and more radiant than in his dreams.
November 21, 2025 at 7:30 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
counting down to the end of the galaxy

T | complete | 800 words #reyloween #reylofic

🌌 apocalypse-typical themes
🌌 canonverse with canon-typical disregard of astrophysics
🌌 devoted Reylo

🚀 archiveofourown.org/works/73301866
moodboard with the title of the fic, counting down to the end of the galaxy, in white letters on a black sky with a handful of stars. there's a red timer in the middle at zero minutes and zero seconds summary: “It still feels like I should have stopped it. Fixed it. What am I supposed to do now?” Eight minutes—no, nine—no, eight again. “What else can I do?” Ben’s arms are tight around her, as if his embrace alone can shield her from the apocalypse. “Love me,” he says simply. “Is that selfish?”
November 20, 2025 at 9:44 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
sneak peek of an upcoming flash fic! 🤍🖤🖤 #reyloww
Rey holding Ben’s face right before she kisses him. In the bottom left corner are two small dark heart shapes and one bright one. And when the war at last ended, he’d died but twice. Once in battle—a blast of radiance so powerful it stopped his heart—and once in the course of his master’s training. It was not a waste, the Lord of Darkness had told him, so long as he had learned something. He’d been spared twice over, too: first by the Light’s paragon, and then at the trials, where the Sith Lord’s manipulations had come to light—a pun too apt to avoid—and he’d been shockingly and undeservingly pardoned. Sentenced only to relocate to a small, disgustingly welcoming village, and live “a peaceful life.” Whatever that meant. But sometimes he feels like the Sith blessing spell had been half-sham; like he’d come back wrong anyway, warped by each brush with the grave. He can’t remember the man he was before—though perhaps that’s because he was barely more than a boy when he joined the Sith Lord’s army, swayed by the promise of becoming who he was meant to be. The irony, in retrospect, is more painful than his scars.
November 19, 2025 at 7:25 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
a late #ReyloSSS entry with a little Kylo Ben POV study for a modern au, simply to help me figure out some of what's going on in *his* head.
He wants her. He wants her touch, her moans, the taste of her arousal in his mouth like the sweetest medicine. He wants to make her gasp, and curse, and scream his name, and feel good, good, good. All the work he devotes himself to, all day every day, doesn’t feel like it matters in the same way as making her happy, loosening that ever-present tension in her shoulders. Doing real good in the world would be making Rey Niima languid and relaxed and utterly replete. He wants her so fucking badly that he’s afraid he’ll shatter if she touches him.
November 17, 2025 at 6:45 AM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
🥮🥰 (I could probably be persuaded to expand this someday) 2/2
When he backs away—one step, two, wow big feet, makes sense because of the wow tall—she clutches the towel. “Go dry off,” he orders gruffly, with a stiff nod toward the rear of the store. “Bathroom’s back there. Don’t worry about the floors. This is New York—they’ve seen much worse.” Rey is too tired and waterlogged to protest. And when she emerges from the bathroom, her clothes wrinkled from being wrung out over the sink, shivering abated, she finds a warm cinnamon roll and an XXL Benji’s Buns sweatshirt on the nearest table. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy is leaning against the counter and looking a lot less grumpy; his eyes are softer, even gentle as he gestures to the pastry and pullover. There might be an upgrade from cute to downright hot in his future. “You can stay until it stops raining. Put that on so you don’t freeze.” Now she wants to protest, but the sweatshirt looks soft and cozy, and she wants to stuff the cinnamon roll in her mouth even more. A token objection is all she can manage, even as she pulls the golden-yellow garment over her head. “Thank you, but—don’t you have to close up? Also, wow, thish ish delishous.” Large shoulders shrug. “It doesn’t really matter if I stay late.” The only way that makes sense is if— “Wait, are you Benji?” The tall, tall man outright winces. “Just Ben, please—“ But Rey’s belly is filled with warm sugary pastry and now she’s on a roll, no pun intended. She can’t help herself. “Are they your buns?” Ben-not-Benji squeezes his eyes shut, a pink flush appearing on his cheekbones. Oh no—he’s hot and cute. And kind. And he bakes a fucking incredible cinnamon bun. “Don’ worry,” she tells him around another bite of sweet-spicy, gooey goodness. “I love your buns. You should be very proud of them.”
November 16, 2025 at 8:43 AM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
a lil' microfic treat for @okapijones.bsky.social, featuring woke-up-at-4-am baker Ben and caught-in-the-rain Rey. 1/2 #reylofic
an extremely tasty looking cinnamon roll on a plate The scowl of the man behind the counter does not match the heavenly aroma of warm, yeasted dough and gooey cinnamon sugar, nor the cheerful yellow apron that proclaims “Benji’s Buns” in approachable sans-serif font. But Rey can’t blame him, seeing as it’s five minutes to closing and she’s dripping icy rainwater all over the cheerful faux-tiled floors. Plucking a strand of wet hair out of her mouth only reinforces the feeling that she’s a half-drowned rat. Even worse, the justifiably grumpy guy is oddly cute up close—the furrowed brows and shadows under his eyes don’t diminish the effect of his dark waves, honey-golden eyes, and full lips. And he’s tall. Like wow tall. But Rey isn’t going to walk back out into a downpour just because the bakery employee is grumper, cuter, and taller than she expected. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “It just started pouring and my raincoat is utter shite and I saw the lights here and I don’t have any money but can I use your bathroom I’llcleanupaftermyselfIpromise—“ Her increasingly mortifying monologue is cut short by a clatter of baking pans as the man—his scowl even deeper now, if possible—pulls a large towel out from beneath the bottom pan. Rey is frozen in place as he strides around the counter, and wraps the warm, cinnamon-scented fabric around her shivering form.
November 16, 2025 at 8:43 AM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
mother-son legacy. #reylofic #dyadprompts
leader. A good leader does the right thing, Senator Leia Organa had gravely explained to her seven-year-old son, even if they never get credit for it. He’s never had his mother’s unerring sense for the right thing. But occasionally, when the new Supreme Leader gives an order—an otherwise-idle squadron deployed to deliver relief supplies, a unilateral refusal to ally with a Hutt slave cartel, a better rehab program for injured troops—a tiny, traitorous voice wonders if any part of her could be proud of any part of him.
November 14, 2025 at 7:26 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
UPDATE: an unenviable fate #reylofic

E | 6.8k | chapter 6
from the beginning

💌 regency #reylo au
💌 epistolary meet-ugly
💌 so much banter
💌 marriage of convenience ... or is it?
💌 now with regency sexting!
moodboard for an unenviable fate, with images of a man and awoman in regency dress and a close up of a handwritten letter with forget me nots. an unenviable fate PeculiarGalaxies Summary: or, A Fraught Correspondence Between Two Young People (& Its Fortunate Conclusion) I have no desire to marry, let alone propose by letter to a young miss I have never met. I vastly prefer the company of horses and hounds to the unenviable fate of being saddled with a wife and hounded by the very same. The Duchess of Alderaan and the Earl of Stewjon hope to encourage a match between their only children. Though Mr. Benjamin Solo and Miss Rey Kenobi have no interest in the martial schemes of their beloved relatives, they do have a pressing need to correct one another—at great length. But as prideful scorn shifts into unexpected friendship, are Rey’s witty insults becoming less acerbic and more flirtatious? Was Mr. Solo’s decision to enclose a certain pamphlet really the act of a gentleman? And most importantly: would marriage to each other really be such an unenviable fate … or might it be a love match after all?
November 12, 2025 at 6:45 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
another preview of my smuggler!Ben fic for the TFA anniversary! I do so love to put this man in Situations™. #ReyloSSS
Ben loads a biography of Senator Ivor Drake onto his datapad and goes to make a cup of caf in the galley. It’s fine. It’s all fine. It’s not like he’s reached a state of frustration in which a mere glance at Rey’s hands firmly gripping his old lightsaber hilt is enough to make him fully hard in the middle of a kriffing training session and send half a dozen lewd fantasies tumbling through his mind before he can even attempt to refocus. Just … mostly hard. Only one or two fantasies. It’s fine. He’s just taking the first sip of his freshly brewed caf when the humming of the handy six-in-one kitchen appliance unit abruptly goes silent and Rey appears on the table in the dining nook—face flushed, eyes closed, and one hand shoved down her leggings. He chokes, splutters, and spills hot caf down the front of his tunic.
November 9, 2025 at 10:16 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
the wedding night chapter of "an unenviable fate" is fully drafted and undergoing revisions! 💌😘 #reyloww
“Show me,” Ben entreats her. He swallows hard, throat bobbing as she squirms upon the bedsheets, adding another finger and canting her hips up to meet her hand. His gaze is unwavering in its intensity. “Did I correctly comprehend what you wrote—that you thought of me as you did this, alone in your bed with only the candlelight to admire your beauty?” She nods, or tries to. “Did—did you ever—?” “Yes.” He gives himself one rough stroke as in in demonstration, eyelids fluttering shut before fixing his attention entirely on her once more. “How could I not take myself in hand and think of you nearly every day, when you stirred my blood and captivated my senses with every word you wrote?”
November 5, 2025 at 10:56 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
my longfic "outline" is currently a pile of vibes missing its trench coat, but I did just find this gem:
rey fixes his roomba (this is not a euphemism)
November 5, 2025 at 4:48 AM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
rip me this month
November 4, 2025 at 7:22 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
🥹
November 4, 2025 at 5:24 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
Meme of two girls gossiping with the text “it all turned out to be a hallucination caused by lava fumes”
November 4, 2025 at 5:22 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
“take my hand, take my whole life, too”
#reylofic #dyadprompts
temporary. It won’t last, she tells herself, even as his lips scorch hot trails along her bare torso. Enjoy it while you can. His mouth on her is a revelation, a soul-shifting orison to her ordinary body. Memorize every moment, she reminds herself. Remember it for later. And she will—she already knows she could never forget the searing blur of pleasure as he devours her, or how his hands tremble on her thighs where they hold her open for him to worship. But even years of knowing that everything—every home she’s ever had—is temporary aren’t enough to keep her from burying her fingers in his soft hair, holding him tight to her as she shatters. And when he slowly, carefully fits himself inside her inch by throbbing inch, until he slides home at last, all her carefully constructed defenses evaporate. Just in time for her thundering heart to believe him when he seals his mouth over hers like a promise, when words tumble from his lips on a deep groan. “Mine— “—forever.”
November 4, 2025 at 5:18 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
when @peppersweet.bsky.social and @rainydaychai.bsky.social BOTH request semi-public sex in “the world we made,” I aim to fucking deliver. no pun intended…. #ReyloSSS
"You're so tight," he hisses. "Are you getting off on knowing that someone could walk in at any moment?" "No," she half-lies. "But-oh—I think you are." "No one else gets to see you like this. You're mine. He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust that makes her quake around him. "But you want them to know it, don't you? Want them to know that I let you fuck me up against the wall in the middle of the day—" Kylo groans. She can't see his face, but she can guess that he's holding on by a thread. He shoves a foot between hers and kicks her legs further apart. "Be good and come for me," he orders— or begs. "Quietly."
November 2, 2025 at 4:24 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
🌑 #reylofic #dyadprompts
fear. “Get away from me,” she spits at him, teeth bared like the wolves that prowl outside. The god of Night shrugs with more nonchalance than he feels. “You’ll change your mind in a few hundred years.” “A few hu—“ Her eyes widen in fear for the first time, golds and greens still so alive and verdant in his gray-washed domain. “How long am I stuck here for?” Night turns away, his long void-dark cloak whispering against the cold marble floor. “Forever.”
October 31, 2025 at 11:38 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
I was too tired to write last night and yet couldn’t fall asleep, so I read Lynn Painter’s “Maid for Each Other.” Loved the main characters and it passes the “would it Reylo” test with flying colors. 💕
October 31, 2025 at 7:36 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
❤️❤️❤️
October 29, 2025 at 11:30 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
I also loved this spicy hidden gem with Rey perfectly in character as the captain of the starship Denial. #reylowrw

Little Excuses by ambiguously: archiveofourown.org/chapters/767...
Screenshot of the archive of our own fic header of Little Excuses by ambiguously. The summary is “This isn’t sex” and the additional tags include Clothed Sex, Force Bond Sexual Situations (Star Wars), Flimsy Excuses, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Sex Pollen, Mutual Masturbation
October 29, 2025 at 10:38 PM
peculiargalaxies.bsky.social
NEW #reylofic #reyloween

counting down to the end of the galaxy

T | complete | 800 words

🌌 apocalypse-typical themes
🌌 canonverse with canon-typical disregard of astrophysics
🌌 devoted Reylo

for the @reyloween.bsky.social prompt "apocalypse"
moodboard with the title of the fic, counting down to the end of the galaxy, in white letters on a black sky with a handful of stars. there's a red timer in the middle at zero minutes and zero seconds Summary: “It still feels like I should have stopped it. Fixed it. What am I supposed to do now?” Eight minutes—no, nine—no, eight again. “What else can I do?” Ben’s arms are tight around her, as if his embrace alone can shield her from the apocalypse. “Love me,” he says simply. “Is that selfish?”
October 29, 2025 at 4:53 PM