#but above all??? SATELLITE

[sysig]

Something of an exploding star kind of space vent art (Patreon)

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x dc AU - If the Internation Space Station orbits the Earth 16 times a day, then so does the Watchtower.

Danny’s on track to move out of his parent’s house and move to Gotham for college (He swears that Sam bribed the board to let him in- and she wasn’t even going to that university!) but the dorms don’t open for another three days and he cannot wait to escape. Seeing his parents try to perfect yet another weapon to use against him while he changed out the ecto filters on the portal was too much. He’s completely over the idea of staying when he already has everything packed and ready to go.

The solution? Take all his boxes into his haunt in the Ghost Zone, leave them there and then spend some time in camping in space. He’s already explored the Infinite Realms enough to be bored of it for a minute (not to mention he wants to avoid getting more ‘favors’ to do from Clockwork) and hell, he just wants to see some stars.

He grabs his tent, a sleeping bag and all the food and things he could need and brings it into the atmosphere with him. Keeping it all tethered to him, Danny stays in a fixed position above Gotham (Cause that’s where he’s going next, duh) and treats himself to some quality Me-time.

Only problem is that several times a day he has to make himself intangible while he lets satellites and things pass through. Easy enough and honestly pretty interesting to observe as a wannabe engineering student.

He doesn’t know when exactly it happened the first time- but it turns out the Heroes of Earth all congregated in a satelite office building? It was bigger than the ISS! What the heck!?

Going intangible but not invisible, the JL spot Danny and are incredibly confused how an ‘Alien’ teen just happens to appear in their meeting rooms disappearing at the rate (slowly but surely) of the Watchtower moving through space. Was that camping gear? How was he roasting a marshmallow? Did propane camping stoves even work in space??

16 times a day they get the opportunity to ask Danny a few questions. He mostly ignores them or gives them joke answers. Eventually Martian Manhunter phases through the Watchtower to join him.

They talk about how hard transition periods in life can be and having strained relationships with family. J’ohn returns to the watchtower on its next cycle and reports that the kid is just fine, being an adult is just a hard thing to do.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[saturnsorbits]

Always a Groomsman

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warning: Angst (A Touch), Smut, Exhibitionism, Reader Smokes, Kaminari isn't a Hero Anymore, Brief Mention of Addiction etc. Word Counts: 5.4k.

Summary: A wedding, what a wonderful place to reunite with the one that fucked you and ran all those years ago.

The light is already dying by the time you finally manage to slip away from the reception and make a B-line to the back of the tent. Your feet are killing. The whiskey helps the pain, but even whiskey can't numb everything.

'Oi.' Bakugo catches your elbow, stopping you just short of freedom.

'Where are you going?'

'Need some air.'

Flicking up his eyebrows, he offers you a smirk that tells you he's not buying your bullshit. 'So it's got nothing to do with that then?' He hooks a thumb towards the dance floor and the drunken silhouette of Kaminari Denki He's curled himself around a bridesmaid, hand pinching the silk over her hip, lips hovering barely an inch above her neck as she threads her hand through his hair.

You chew your lip and lie. 'No.'

'C'mon... Just talk to him, you know you want to.' Bakugo's eyes widen suggestively.

'I think he's too pre-occupied to talk.' Something bubbles in your stomach as you watch Kaminari whisper in the woman's ear and you quietly shift your gaze so you don't see what happens next.

'You know he's only over there because he thinks you're mad at him, right?'

'I am mad at him.'

'It's been years.'

'He fucked me over, Kat...'

Bakugo's gaze hits the floor. It's not like he's forgotten what happened. 'I'm not taking his side but -.'

'No.' You raise your hands, palms flat in the air to stop him. You know what he's about to say. You've heard it all before. 'You've got guests to entertain and I am literally going to explode if I don't get some air in the next minute.'

Rolling his eyes, he plants a kiss on your cheek and uses his new proximity to whisper in your ear. 'He'd make a pretty groom, that's all I'm saying.'

'Oh, fuck off.' You manage to swat his shoulder only once before he's turned on his heel and returned to the mess of wedding guests that whoop and roar when he re-emerges into the fray.

The cold hits you as soon as you duck under the edge of the tent and step out onto the small deck. Instantly, you pull at your shoes and hiss as your feet are forced to straighten against the wooden floor. Before the throbbing in your soles has settled, you stagger off, limping towards the tall rail separating the deck from the field beyond.

It's a nice night, cold, but nice. In the sky, stars burn on a back-drop of navy, their blanket only broken by the soft, red blinking of the odd satellite or plane. The music from the tent floats out and lingers in the air, leaving you with enough space to actually think for a second.

You'd been overjoyed to watch Bakugo finally get hitched to Kirishima, but almost all of that excitement had died when you saw Kaminari. It had been almost ten years since the night he'd kissed you outside of UA, since you'd stumbled up the stairs to his dorm and let him be the first to touch you. He'd pretended as if it had never happened afterwards and you'd taken the hint.

A few months later, you'd moved south and he had stayed. He hadn't even shown up to your leaving party, despite both Sero and Kirishima telling you he'd be there.

But, all of that was in the past, or at least you'd thought it was until your eyes had grazed his as he stood beside the alter as Kirishima's best man and you'd felt a forgotten affection swell in your stomach. Sighing, you fiddle with your clutch bag and remove a half-full packet of cigarettes from within. You flip open the box, pluck one from inside and pop it in-between your lips before diving back into the clutch to search for a lighter. Rummaging for a second, you come up empty.

'Shit.'

'Need a light?'

The voice makes you shriek. You jump, stumble over your shoes and just about manage to catch yourself on the rail. Hand falling to your chest, you can feel the hammering of your heart through your skin.

'Am I that scary?' He snickers.

You squint, trying to make out his edges in the low light. Your eyebrows furrow, then lift as you focus on the man in front of you. He looks good, better than the last time you'd seen him: A scrawny shadow of himself pictured in a double page spread of a gossip magazine, something about heroism, drugs and a sex scandal printed in bright ink above it.

Flicking your eyes up to his, you're glad to see the spark has returned to his eyes. An old, but familiar shiver runs the length of your spine and suddenly, your stomach fills with motion. 'You... You look good.'

'Yeah?' He holds open his blazer, allowing you to get a full look as he slowly spins on the balls of his shoes and pinches at the skin of his stomach. 'Hero weekly says I'm chubby now.'

You're tempted to lie, to tell him that he's looked better, but you don't. 'No, you look good, healthy. It suits you.'

Something in Kaminari's chest stutters and he has to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth before he speaks again. 'Light?'

You pause. 'You don't mind?'

His face breaks into a smile, perfect and shining. 'Nah, don't even crave the things any more.' He misses out the bit about having enough nicotine patches on his chest and arms to stop a bull.

You concede. There's a comfort that comes back almost too easily, like the past finally catches up with you. It dampens the fire in your stomach, leaving you clutching at the anger that had grown inside of you since that night. You lean forward, letting him cup his hands around the end of your cigarette.

His hands shake when he tries to make a spark. It takes one, two, three times of his thumb coming down on the wheel before it finally catches a light and he can step back to a safer distance.

'It's still the same one, doesn't work as well now though.' He mumbles flicking the cap of the lighter. It's silver, with a chipped yellow lightning bolt painted on the front of it.

If you looked close enough, you're sure you'd be able to find the rough scratching of your entwined initials, engraved by his shaking hands at fifteen.

You breathe in, savour the burning of smoke as it infests your lungs and exhale. Turning, you rest against the rail and look back out over the field.

'So – you're -.'

'Sero said -.'

You both start up at the same time, the constriction of the silence around you forcing you both to attempt to fill it.

'You first -.'

'No, you – go on.' You encourage, arching an eyebrow.

Kaminari swallows. His heart thrums violently, threatening to deafen him, but he's just hoping that you can't see how bad his hands are shaking, how he can feel sweat beginning to bead his forehead. He's not an idiot. He knows how he left it, what you must think. As soon as Kirishima had asked him to be best man he’d felt his guts begin to twist and turn. The idea of seeing you again set his veins on fire. You cough and pull him back from the edge of his thoughts.

'I – uh...' He can't think. You're too close, too real and suddenly, his tongue seizes in his mouth.

Another beat of silence nestles its way into the conversation and you can't take it. You switch the conversation. 'Ei said you're going to work with Aizawa.'

He takes a deep breath and prepares himself to look at you, but it still doesn't stop the air being stolen from his lungs when he finally does. There's a flourish of nostalgia in his stomach and he swallows a grin. 'Yeah. He, uh, he sought me out. After all the – the, y'know, rehab and all that, he thought I'd be a good fit.'

'Yeah?' You raise your eyebrows. Kaminari's fall from grace had been far from undocumented. There had been barely a week that he hadn't appeared in some sort of magazine, his eyes dull and another questionable entourage in toe. Another one night stand, a model spotted having cocaine snorted off her tits; wherever there was chaos, Kaminari had followed.

'Yeah... We're, uhm, we're already working with a group of kids in UA. They got caught up in that villain attack down town. We do these workshops were we like pretend to be pro-hero's...'

Smiling, you raise your eyebrows. There's light in his voice, something you've missed and something you're keen to hold onto.

He snorts. 'No, I know, I know, but we pretend to be...' He shoots you a cheeky glance. '… Current... Pro-hero's doing interviews and talking about our experiences and stuff, y'know like it's miles away. Helps to sort it all out in your head, picture a future were it isn't all still hanging over you. There's this one kid, absolute firecracker... He stopped the whole fucking building collapsing before they could get everyone out, has a pretty nasty scar to thank for it too, but he does the most flawless impression of Bakugo it's almost scary.'

You bat at his arm instinctively and freeze as your hand wraps his bicep. For a second it's all too easy to forget you're not still teenagers clinging onto youth with both hands. 'That looks good on you too.'

'Huh?' He swallows before moving his hand to cover yours on his arm. His skin prickles when you don't pull away. It's hard to forget how it all ended. How he'd been too naïve to tell you how he felt, how he'd bit his tongue for months after he'd summoned the courage to finally kiss you and how he'd tried everything he could to run from the violent storm of emotions that had been released in his stomach that night.

It hadn't worked.

Avoiding you hadn't worked, neither had sleeping with other women or pretending it had never happened.

You lean into him, tightening your grip and the warmth of your skin reminds him that he's not the scared teenager he used to be.

'Helping kids, working with Aizawa...' You giggle, relaxing into his presence at last. 'It looks good on you. You light up when you talk about it... It's nice. Haven't seen you look like that since...' You chew your lip. 'Listen...' It's impossible to read him. His jaw is set, eyes facing forward as the cold begins to chap and redden his cheeks and you have to fight to push away the thought of how beautiful he still looks. 'I know you're only out here because Bakugo told you to be.' The accusation slips off your tongue too easily as the past rears it's head.

'I'm not – it's -.'

'You don't have to lie to me.' You offer him a broken smile, a truce of sorts.

'I really screwed up, didn't I?' He chuckles, letting smoke drift from his nose and mouth before turning to you.

'You did.'

There's a lapse in the conversation and he takes his chance. You're peering up at him, your eyes filled with the embers of something he hopes is affection and he dives in. 'Do you remember that night... Outside the school when... When, we -.' He feels stupid. The words lodge in his throat and refuse to move, forcing him to stop and haul in a breath. You'd think after all the talking therapy he'd be better at it by now.

He battles through, after all – he doesn't know when he'll get the chance to see you again.

If he doesn't do it now, he never will.

'When we slept together?' You sigh then tilt your head and finally give in, resting your head against his shoulder. Part of you wonders why he's brought it up, the other part isn't sure you care. Right now, you're just happy to bask in him. You've missed it: him. Even with the history between you. 'You don't have to apologise. I get it.'

'What do you mean?' Kaminari stammers.

'Well, It was a mistake, right?' It's a question disguised as a statement, but you don't give him time to answer before you're already trying to soften the blow yourself. 'We were young and people sleep together all the time, it's not a big deal. I just -.' You puff out your cheeks, finish your cigarette and drop it to the floor, letting Kaminari crush it with his dress shoe. 'I – I guess I just expected us to... It doesn't matter, you didn't want it and I respect that, just, it was just a hard pill to swallow, I think.

He takes another lungful of cold air, hoping the shock will calm him. It does, but only until he cranes his neck to look at you again. You're looking back up at him, your eyes wide and questioning, pupils blown out through darkness and alcohol. His gaze lingers on the soft pump of your lip and he's almost knocked over by the rush of memory that reminds him you used to taste like strawberries and smoke.

He wonders if you still do.

'It's not like that...'

You swallow. 'What was it like then?'

His voice is a whisper when he finally admits what he came out her to tell you. 'I was scared...' His thumb ghosts the back of your hand. 'I'm still scared.'

'Denki...'

'Yeah?' He's vaguely aware of the fact that he's unable to tear his eyes away from your face, but he's too caught up in the feel of you pressed to his side, where you belong, to care.

'Don't start saying things like that.'

'Why -.'

You lick at your back teeth, fighting annoyance. 'Not now. Especially not when there's a bridesmaid wondering where you've got to in there.' You hook a thumb back towards the tent.

'I'm not – we're not, we're not together or anything...' He's stumbling, making a mess as usual.

You roll your eyes. 'You don't have to lie.'

'I'm not lying.'

'I saw you all over her.'

'Dancing – we were -.'

Chewing at your lip, you sigh. 'It doesn't matter.'

'No.' He takes hold of your hand, squashes his own on top of yours and pins you as best as he can without forcing your fingers to entwine. 'It does.'

You swallow. 'Why now?'

'I – uh -.'

'Why not then?'

'I was scared.'

'You know...' You slip your hand from under his and fold your arms across your chest. 'It hurt when I realised that I was just another fuck for you, but it wasn't as bad as loosing a friend Denki – We were friends and you just fucking ghosted me. No explanation, no apology, you could have just fucking ignored it and I would have let things go back to normal, I would have just -.' You're crying, kind of. Tears well in your eyes, but you're refusing to let them fall. You've spent too many tears on him already and your make-up took almost an hour to do.

'I was a fucking idiot, I was scared and – and -.'

'I think I'm going to go...' You nod, swatting away his hand when he reaches for you. 'It was nice seeing you.' Turning, you're ready to make a short dash through the tent, ready to be as far away from the constricting air of the deck.

'No. Please. Please, don't go – not again, I just. Fuck.'

A hand wraps your wrist, pulling you back just enough that he can slip in front of you blocking your escape. 'Den - Kaminari.'

'Just let me, let me get this out. Okay.' He's pleading when he looks up at you, but he can't let you leave, not without at least trying. 'I was a fucking idiot. I was so scared that you'd hate me, that, that I'd be a bad boyfriend, or you'd move away and I wouldn't be enough, that I'd be too busy with work, or it'd be too much and I – I let that get the better of me. I was already falling apart, even back then and I didn't – I didn't want you to have to see it, to put up with it. You, fuck, you deserve so much and... That night...' He hauls in a breath. 'That night was one of the best nights of my life, not, not just the sex – just being with you and I – Well I did fuck it all up, didn't I... Look at the state of me - I couldn't, I couldn't have dragged you through all that.'

'Oi.' You fix him with a stare. 'Don't go blaming yourself, not for what you've been through - or how you've dealt with it. Never, okay... And for what it's worth, I would have gone to Hell and back if you'd asked.'

His jaw ticks, but when he turns to face you there's something almost thankful in the shine of his eyes. 'I'd never ask.'

You chuckle. 'I know. You wouldn't have had to. I've have done it anyway.'

He swallows.

You roll your lip between your teeth and bite down. 'So you liked me... Back then, I mean. When we – I wasn't just, just another girl that you...

'We both know I did.' He licks his lips. 'I was a fucking idiot, I -.' His eyes widen as he struggles to find a word to summarise the years that have elapsed between you and leaves him out on a limb.

'Do you still...'

He nods.

'And if, if it were to happen again, you'd want that?'

'More than anything.'

'And you wouldn't run away?'

'Only if I was chasing you.'

You smile, straighten and curl your body into his. 'Then...' You whisper. 'Kiss me.'

He does. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he lets his thumb rub at the softness behind your ear as your lips meet again for the first time in years.

Things go quickly from there...

It's overdue. A coming together that both of your bodies have longed for, for far too long. He kisses the same, with lips that are a touch too dry and a hunger no-one else has ever been able to match.

You have a mind to stop him, have a mind to stall his hands as they press to your chest and seek out the stiff peaks of your nipples, but you don't. Instead, you let yourself be overcome. Your hands find his belt. It's almost too easy to do, to unclasp the buckle and yank it clear of his suit pants. You cast it aside and are surprised when he doesn't seem to care where it lands.

He pushes you back, urging you further and further away from the wedding still raging inside and towards the scant privacy the deck can offer.

Although, it's more than obvious that neither of you care.

Each touch is electric. A build of emotion that had crystallised, now dissolving into your hands and dripping through your fingers. It's rough and needy, desperate, but more than that, it feels right.

'Here, quick.' You pull at the lapel of his suit jacket, yanking him impossibly closer.

He misreads the signs, twisting and turning as he attempts to wriggle from his jacket and slip it from his shoulders.

Tugging it back into place, you shake your head. 'No time, just...' You let your hand slide down his chest, feeling your way across the expanse of him before slipping your fingers into the waist of his suit pants. '… Come here.'

Kaminari moans as you make quick work of his pants, shoving them eagerly half way to his thigh. 'Don't need to tell me twice.' He chuckles, using what little air remains in his lungs to whine as your fingers graze over his hardening cock.

You tease for barely a second longer before taking hold of him and squeezing.

'Fuck.' His head rocks back on his shoulders, eyes rolling to the skies as he sinks into the feeling of having you again. 'I've missed you. Shit.'

You chuckle and lean in close, pressing your chest to his as you lick at the shell of his ear. 'Have you missed me or just my hand?'

Immediately, he pulls back. His hands wrap around your elbows as he holds you at arms length. He looks comical, with his pants clinging to the thin at the end of his thighs and his grey boxers almost dyed black, stained with pre-cum as his cock pulses in its confines, spilling more desperation onto the fabric. 'I really have missed you...'

Stooping to catch your eye, he raises his eyebrows and offers you a smile. 'You. Not the sex, not anything else. Yo -.'

You barely let him finish his sentence before you're breaking from his constriction and pressing back into him. 'I've missed you too...' Biting his lip, you ease the sting with a kiss. 'But, we really don't have a lot of time and I'm so fucking wet I -.'

He whines against your mouth. 'Can – Fuck, let me taste.'

'Maybe later.'

The idea of later makes his blood sing, but the sound of the party still raging inside quickly refocuses him on the task at hand. 'Think I can make you cum in five minutes?'

'Oh.' You squeak when his hand pinches at your ass. 'I fucking hope so.'

'Challenge accepted.' Grinning from ear to ear, Kaminari presses back until you bump against the wooden railing of the deck. His hands roam across your body, squeezing and nipping at everything he can reach. Reaching up, he takes hold of the strap before pausing. 'Can I?' Or will this rip?'

'It'll be fine... Just -' You push your chest out, helping as best you can as Kaminari pulls down the front of your dress to expose you to the air.

The cold air forces your nipples to pebble immediately, the lip of your dress forcing your breasts to sit high and pretty and in perfect reach of Kaminari's wondering hands.

He cups your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples until you squirm. If he had time, he'd savour this. He'd crane his neck, bow to your beauty and take one of those hardened rose buds into his mouth. He'd taste your skin, savour the salt and lick effortlessly over you until your cries became the background noise to his dreams. Licking his teeth, he looses himself to the feeling of you filling his hand. The fat of your tit spills through his fingers as he squeezes, earning another breathy gasp from you before turning his attention to other areas.

'Denki...' You're breathing heavy already, your chest heaving as Kaminari takes his pleasures feeling every inch of you. His hands sink, exploring. He pinches at your ribs, skates over your ribs and grips your hips before landing a firm smack against your ass. 'Denki, please... Fuck, c'mon, I need -.'

'Yeah?' His pupils have blown when he looks at you. Rings of gold struggle to keep them in check as hunger threatens to swallow them whole.

You nod, helping him yank up your dress until it's bunched up around your hips. Shivering against the cold, your knees knock together as a wave of vulnerability suddenly washes over you. You're freezing. The arousal trapped in your underwear cooling by the second, even as your cunt burns to be touched.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's hand sinks into your underwear the second it can. His fingers brush across trimmed pubic hair before petting, gently, at your clit.

You moan, bucking into his hand as he slips further and brushes his fingertips across your entrance. Bringing his hand back up, he presents his hand to you in the air. Your arousal shines on his skin, the glittering light from tent making it shimmer as he widens his fingers, leaving sticky strings to hang between index and forefinger.

He admires the shine. 'You're so fucking wet.'

Nodding, you reach for his wrist to pull it to your mouth – tasting yourself and cleaning his skin, but before you can, his tongue darts out of his mouth. He collects your slick like a delicacy and moans as your sweetness hits the back of his throat.

'Denki, I can't wait anymore... Please -.'

Kaminari wastes no time. In a moment, he has himself freed from his boxers, his cock hard and twitching against your stomach and your leg hooked lazily over his arm.

You tug aside your underwear yourself, exposing your cunt to him fully. There's no time to waste. Something primal eats away at your insides, something you're sure will only subside once he's seated inside of you. Your fingers itch, one hand playing with the strays hairs at the base of his neck as you look down and watch as he guides himself into you.

The initial push makes him hiss. You're tight. Tighter than he remembers as your walls wrap around him and clench. Locking his jaw, he hauls in a breath through his teeth and wills himself away from embarrassment.

Feeling him twitch helplessly inside of you, you grasp him by the lapel and pull him close until your nose touches his. 'Don't you dare. Not...' He gives you another inch, making you gasp and roll your hips. 'Not yet, don't fucking -.'

'Don't worry, baby. 'm not, not gonna.' Holding onto his sanity with his fingernails, Kaminari pulls back his hips and grinds back into you. The rhythm he sets up is uneven at best, but still, each thrust causes his cock to rub directly across the sponge roof of your cunt making you whine and cling.

Lips finding his neck, you litter him with lust. Your teeth find purchase, biting down to stifle the moans bubbling in your chest as he continues to fuck you, bottoming out each time in an effort to give you everything he has.

'You're gonna leave a mark.' He speaks through gasps, his pace stuttering as he continues to try and please you. The muscle in his thighs shake, his hands struggling not to clamp down on your waist as he pushes through the pulsing of his balls that threatens an early end.

You chuckle, revelling in the goose-flesh your breath leaves in its wake. It's intimate, setting a fire in your stomach as you pull back enough to catch his eye once more. You smile. 'What? Don't want your cheeky bridesmaid side piece to see?'

His pace falters. 'I don't.'

'Denki, baby... I'm joking.'

The pet name hatches butterflies in his sternum. They bump against the bone, tickling his organs and making him feel like he could float six feet from the floor. Not for the first time, he curses his own previous cowardice for stealing away all the pet names the past could have gifted him.

Bringing your foreheads together, you pant, breathing in each others air for a moment.

It's always felt like a cop out to call him 'The one that got away'. The title had never fit, no matter how much you'd wanted it to – or wished at one point and yet, right here, now, you wonder how you'd ever even brought yourself to think of him like that. 'Denki... Denks.' He hums, transfixed by a look he'd only been able to imagine in your eyes. 'What – what do you need. Tell me.'

You chew your lip, muttering. 'I'm never going to cum like this.'

'Ah.' His eyes light up, a shock of understanding zipping through him.

It might have been years, but he remembers every second of that night you spent together. He remembers you quaking, remembers how you'd looked on your hands and knees, thighs shaking as your spine curved deliciously, your ass bouncing as you rocked yourself back on his cock desperately. How could he forget?

Slipping out of you, he pulls back only enough to lay his hands on your waist and spin you.

You twist, dizzy and grab hold of the railing to steady yourself. Instantly, you're up on your tip-toes, back curved as you wait, pretty and presented. Anticipation lances through your legs making holding yourself up difficult, but it's all worth it when you feel him stretch you open and slide home.

Not giving you a second to adjust, he sets a blinding pace, spurred on by the memory of what it had felt like to have you fall apart around him. The fingers of his right hand dig into the flesh of your hip as the other slides up your back and takes hold of your neck. He grips, leaning over you to whisper, hoarse, in your ear. 'Touch yourself... Touch yourself for me, show me how good you feel, baby.'

You obey. Slipping a hand between your legs, you spread your fingers to feel him rutting into you for a moment. The skin of his cock is silk soft and slippery with your arousal, grazing the sides of your fingers as you shift and finally, begin to rub at your clit.

'Fuck...' Kaminari's grip on your hip stutters, growing light as he feels you tighten up around him. 'Go – Good girl. Shit. I'm not – not gonna last, I -.'

You don't need him too. In a few moments, you feel the telltale rush. Your cunt aches, clit pulsing as your orgasm threatens to reduce you to your knees. With your eyes rolling back into your head, you struggle to keep circling your clit, but Kaminari's fingers replace yours without you asking.

His movement is clumsy, but he manages to fuck you through your high either way. 'Holy, holy fuck... You feel, feels so – fucking Hell.' Stuttering, he struggles through, pouring his focus into you as you milk him relentlessly, bringing him closer and closer to his own end. With a tight chest, you reel back, glancing over your shoulder.

Kaminari's face is flushed, his cheek bones brushed with a pink that makes him look boyish and young. The edge of his mouth is twisted, a cause of his teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek and his jaw is clenched, bringing out the cut line of his jaw.

He's close. You can tell. The thought thrills you, your cunt tightening on impulse as you await your prize.

'Where, fuck, fuck... I can't cum on your dress, you're – you're gonna have to move, or, or -.'

Reaching back, you grab at the edge of his suit jacket and pull at him, forcing his hips against your ass. 'Inside.'

He doesn't get a chance to think, his body makes the decision for him. His balls tighten, pulsing as he cums, emptying himself inside of you. Curling over, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, teeth scraping against the exposed skin as he pours himself into you, pumping you full.

With your stomach full and his lips grazing the base of your neck, you relax into a bone-deep kind of satiation you'd not felt since that night. It's surreal. Absurd as you come crashing back to reality as realise that the party has begun to quieten inside of the tent.

He's still dripping out of you when you hear the high pitched whistle cut through the air.

Kamiari turns. Tearing his suit jacket from his shoulders, he drapes it over your hips, covering his own mess.

'You two made up then?' Sero's smile is blinding. His hands are dug into his pockets, thumbs poking out over the material as he shrugs himself into his shoulders. He's plastered, his hair mattered and a mess as it falls from its bun, but even the alcohol making him stagger doesn't put a stop to his mischief.

Kaminari panics. His voice is still breathless, shaking slightly from the force of the orgasm that had almost had him seeing static. He should have made you cum quicker, shouldn't have slowed down the way he did. Fuck, he should have asked you to come back to his hotel. You deserve better than a quick, forgive me fuck outside of a tent in almost freezing temperature. He curses himself and cringes. 'How long have you been stood there?'

'Long enough to be pitching a tent, you guys don't fuck around huh...' He chuckles to himself. 'Well, I guess you do but -.'

Struggling with your dress, you can't help the smile that breaks your lips when Kaminari shields you and helps get your tits situated and hidden once more. Stepping from behind him, you slide a hand down his arm and twist your fingers in his. Hoping this time he won't run away. 'What do you want Hanta? We're just about to get out of here.'

Even if you had been trying to miss the smile that brightens Kaminari's face, you wouldn't have been able to. He re-adjusts his jacket, now slung over your shoulders and squeezes your hand tight.

Sero chuffs. Still too drunk to know better. 'When I first came out here I just wanted to smoke, but now I'm thinking of asking to watch.'

Reaching down, you pluck one of your heels from the floor before turning and throwing it headlong at Sero's head.

He ducks, laughing as the shoe goes wide. 'That a maybe then?'

'Hanta...' Kaminari whines, but Sero is already backing away holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

'Woah, woah...' A cheeky smile tugs at his lip, bringing his left dimple out in a way that only happens when there's real mischief up his sleeve. 'I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that the lights out here cause a pretty solid shadow to be cast on the side of that tent then, huh?'

The colour drains from both of your faces. 'No...'

Sero's eyes shine as he reaches into his pocket and removes his phone. 'I've got a video of it if you don't believe me...'

-> Masterlist

[roll-for-gaslight]

While I think Sklonda is right to be critical of the Bad Kids and specifically Kristen, I think that a lot of the reason she did so is that she was missing a lot of context the other parents were given. We see in Freshman Year that she’s often given the information about their quests from Riz, several hours after the fact, and he shares clues with her rather than personal things. He doesn’t think the personal bits are what she cares about because, for him, that’s not the problem being solved. He’s happy with his friends and she only really would hear if one of them caused a problem. Her apartment isn’t a hangout like Seacaster Manor, Mordred Manor, the Thistlespring Tree, or even Gilear’s season one apartment were. By the nature of her being a single working mother in a difficult financial situation, she often was left out of extracurricular activities.

For example, Mordred is obviously a place filled with a lot of activity, and plenty of kids to give updates on said activity if something slips through the cracks of someone’s retelling. If Adaine leaves out a personal moment because she’s focused on the case, Fig or Kristen or even Ragh could fill in that blank, plus the fact that the other BKs spend a lot of time there means that Sandralynn, Jawbone, and Lydia are usually getting every side of every story. The Thistlespring Tree is where the Bad Kids go not just because it’s a nice place to spend time, but because it’s often directly tied into a plot or subplot! The power source in season one, the satellite in season two, and Gorgug’s artificer journey + the whole Frosty Faire thing going on now! Besides that, the Thistlesprings have raised Gorgug in a way that encourages open channels of communication about his emotions above all else, so he tells them what’s going on! Fabian’s parents over at Seacaster Manor haven’t been involved so much this season, but Bill Seacaster saw their bond from the start and taught them how to take care of each other and fight as a group, and Gilear has always been heavily involved in their adventures because all of the BKs have been emotionally invested in him as well!

Aside from that, she’s missing the context of actually being able to attend their quests like some other parents/guardians were able to in Sophomore Year! Gilear and Cathilda and Sandralynn all know things like the fact that everyone was worried about Riz and called him their little angel when he was gone and that Kristen saved him almost at the expense of her own life in the Nightmare King’s forest. She never sees them together, the way they’ll risk everything for each other when the chips are down, the way they all show they care in little ways all the time ( like Fig giving him the card or Fabian’s gifts in Freshman Year). She doesn’t understand that while “the Ball” may have come from a bully on the first day of school, it turned into a term of endearment! She doesn’t see how hard they’ve been trying this year to pass their classes and such, not because it matters to them, but because they know it’s important to Riz. He never even explained the whole needing scholarships thing to them! He showed up with folders on the first day, stressed out of his mind about all of them passing together, and basically decided to get their shit together! Sure, it took Kristen and Fig a little while to do it, but that’s because they were struggling to build better habits!

I also understand how she could think Riz does all of the heavy lifting: when he presents the clues to her and he’s their lead investigator, do you think she assumed other people did the finding? Absolutely not! She doesn’t see the way they put things together by focusing on their individual strengths; she only sees Riz trying to put it all together and find the connections. Why would she know that a lot of the investigative work was done by Adaine and Kristen in sophomore year because so much of it had to do with religion? She wouldn’t!

All this to say: Sklonda is a good mom for checking in with Riz, but she also has a narrow view of things that no one else has. If she were to be exposed to the BKs more often and actually pay attention to how things work between them, I think she would be much more understanding.

[notdamien]

rewatched boom town. thinking about torchwood era jack harkness, after having waited for 136 years on earth, finally hearing the whirring of the tardis, seeing it appear above the torchwood III hub, thinking that after so many years, finally, he can see the doctor again...

only to realise that he can't; not yet, because he's already there. that version of him long past, soon after first meeting the doctor and rose, before satellite five.

he's cursed to watch from afar for 12 agonising hours as another version of himself gets to experience the doctor, and the tardis, and rose. meanwhile he's locked out, aware of the consequences if he were to run out there and make himself known, but tempted to do it all nevertheless.

his pain when he hears the tardis trilling again as it leaves, feeling like he missed his chance and knowing he could wait another century before the doctor returns again. left to clean up the mess from the rift, like always.

[pickingupmymercedes]

An impossible dream - Lewis Hamilton

request: "hey!you are so good in writing angst and I feel there's a lack of angst with lh and sometimes i just want a heavy heart 🫣 but i was listening to beyonce and her song best thing i never had made me wish to read something like that with lewis"

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angsty, Lewis being kind of a jerk (but not really)

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Sorry it took this long anon, but I hope it gives you all the feels, because it did for me.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The opulence of the Monaco in a Grand Prix weekend shimmered around as the warm glow of the setting sun bathed the city in its usual golden hue. Y/n and her husband cruised through the narrow, winding streets in his collection worthy of a car. The engine purred smoothly, a low, contrasting hum to the noise of her own mind as they made their way to a party very few could ever get close to.

Her husband reached over and took her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "You've been quiet" he said, glancing at her with concern. "Are you okay?"

She turned to him, managing a small smile. "Just nervous to be back in Monaco," she replied, barely above a whisper before she continued "I have a lot of past history in these streets" she admitted, her voice carrying a mixture of nostalgia and pain.

He nodded, understanding deepening in his eyes. "Is it because of your ex?" She hesitated for a moment before nodding and he squeezed her hand, a silent show of affection.

"I've seen how it affects you, still" he replied softly. "I'm happy to wait until you're comfortable to talk about it."

"Thank you for never pushing" she said, her gratitude genuine.

He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips for a tender kiss. "You’re really the best thing that’s ever happened to me" he said, his voice filled with love.

She saw him before he saw her, the man whose name once caused her heart to race faster than his car on the track and she instinctively tightened her grip on her husband's arm.

He noticed the man beside her, and then his gaze dropped to her left hand, where the large diamond ring sparkled under the golden lights. His expression turned unreadable, a myriad of emotions: shock, recognition, questioning, and even a composed understanding.

As the night wore on, and her husband was eventually pulled into conversations with some business magnates, she was left momentarily alone, drifting towards the balcony, seeking solace in the night breeze and the endless horizon of the sea. The memories of past sunrises in this very place, leaving a bittersweet and relentless feeling.

"Y/n." His voice was a soft murmur behind her, as gentle as the evening wind. She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself before turning to face him.

"Lewis," she acknowledged, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

"Do you even remember those sunrises?" He took a step closer, the faint scent of his cologne bringing back a rush of memories.

She looked away, back towards the dark waters. "Please, don't." she whispered; her voice almost lost in the breeze.

"What's happened, Y/n? Why did you disappear?" His tone was soft, but insistent.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. "Some people need to grow up and stop chasing impossible dreams" she said, her voice more composed than she felt.

"Is that what you think we were? An impossible dream?" His eyes boring into hers, searching for the truth.

She met his gaze, her eyes betraying the pain she had buried. "I couldn't keep pretending, Lewis. Being a satellite to you, yet always on the outside... It was killing me. I needed stability, something real."

"Is that what you have now?" He nodded towards the crowd inside. "With him?"

"He makes me feel safe" she replied, her voice firm.

He looked at her, his expression a mix of sadness and frustration. "Are you happy, Y/n? Truly happy?"

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to keep her composure "Happiness wasn’t a luxury I could quite afford. Not anymore."

He shook his head, stepping closer until there was little to no space between them, his perfume making her dizzy. "You deserve more than just safety. You deserve to be loved, completely and unconditionally."

"And you think you could have given me that?" A tear threatening to slip down her cheek, the tinge of anger to her voice just as she quickly looked up and closed her eyes.

"I know I could have" he said softly, his voice filled with conviction. "I loved you, Y/n. I still do."

She looked back at him, the weight of his gaze and words pressing down on her made her laugh. "Gosh, I wanted you so bad... But, it's too late now, Lewis."

"Don't you ever wonder what could have been?" He asked, his voice teasingly sweet.

"I used to. I’m through with that, though." she admitted, her voice trembling. "He is my life now."

He reached out, taking her hands in his just as she turned to look at him again. "You don't have to settle for safety, Y/n. Not when you could have so much more. It's never too late, you know?!"

"I'm pregnant." She blurred out; her voice steady but not above a whisper.

Lewis froze, his eyes dropping to her belly. He blinked, processing her words. 

"It's still early days." Her hand instinctively going to her still-flat stomach as she felt the need to explain herself, even after all this time.

He swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. "I just... Make sure your happy, okay?! This kid needs you at your best."

"I know" she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as he turned from her and she understood the cue.

As she rejoined her husband, she felt as if a piece of her heart had been left behind in the shadows of that balcony.

Her husband’s eyes lit up. Relief and affection evident in his expression as his arms encircled her. He kissed her head tenderly from the side, his lips brushing her hair. "Are you both alright?" he asked softly.

She nodded, forcing a smile as she looked up at him. "Yeah, someone's perfume made me nauseous, just needed a little breather."

Her husband smiled warmly, and she leaned into his embrace, seeking comfort in the familiarity and security he offered.

As they stood together, surrounded by the opulence of the setting, she couldn't help but glance back at the balcony, where Lewis remained, a solitary figure against the backdrop of their shared memories, his eyes still locked on her as they would always be, as long as they kept bumping into each other.

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[gffa]

All right, so maybe I went haring off to another fandom for awhile, but I will never fully let go of my STAR WARS fic reading roots because there's just so much incredible fic here and I have such intense feelings about these characters, like how can I possibly truly leave when this fandom knows how to scratch my id just right or make me cry over fictional characters or hyena laugh because you people are very funny? There's just so much fic that is so good that of course I keep coming back! Especially when it comes to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, there are just so many incredible people making incredible fics for them that feed right back into my love for their twisty, turny, complicated, beautiful, awful relationship. So here's a bunch of Obikin fic because the fandom is amazing and you should go love them as much as I love them, since you can hopefully completely sate yourself on a bunch of fantastic fic to read! Or idk send yourself into a grief coma because sometimes fic writers are almost as mean as canon was, but in the best way, the way that really hits you in the feelings place. Or idk idk just gorge on all the porn because DANG Obikin fandom brings the porn! WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121k wip     In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Together in Slumber by ibex_ascendant, obi-wan/anakin, 2.4k wip     Several months after his last confrontation with Darth Vader, Obi-Wan finds himself trapped in a vivid and mysterious mindscape. And he isn't there alone. ✦ Satellite Mind by intermundia, septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 19.3k     Some doors, once opened, can never be closed, and some secrets, once learned, can never be forgotten. or, Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s. ✦ Slow Learner by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 12.6k     Four times Anakin tried to fit Obi-Wan's big dick inside him and one time he managed it. or; the evolution of their sexual relationship. ✦ Redolent of you by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dom/sub, 31.3k wip     This act of espionage is going to require some class A play at antiquated alpha and omega dynamics, only problem is Anakin has never submitted in his life and it's certainly not within his nature,or so Obi-Wan thinks. ✦ Heal Me, My Darling by wasureneba, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 12.4k     Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan takes care of him. For two weeks. Alone. This would be easier if Anakin wasn't quite so gone for Obi-Wan. Or if this didn't involve a daily stab in the shebs. ✦ For He, too, is King by MayMeows, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, historical au, 7.7k     “I am here to present myself to the man who now calls himself King of my people.” Obi-Wan would be impressed as Anakin’s title as God-King, born from the divine himself, often struck people with awe, terrifying or glorifying, but Queen Amidala’s voice is as strong as her shoulders are squared. ✦ How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by Sharp_Tongue, obi-wan/anakin & mace & yoda & quinlan & palpatine, nsfw, time travel, 23.9k     After defeating Vader on a barren, nameless moon, Obi-Wan had let go of the past. But the past hadn’t let go of him. ✦ (feel like i die) ‘til i feel your touch by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & yoda & mace & ahsoka, 15.5k     OR; Obi-Wan gets himself cursed and makes it everyone’s, but mainly Anakin’s, problem.

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED AND/OR DIVERGES: ✦ Yellow Surprise by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.1k     When Anakin is distant with him during a simple negotiation mission Obi-Wan jumps to the wrong conclusion, luckily for him Anakin isn't willing to let him go so easily. ✦ A Good Epithet by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 8.2k     Obi-Wan should have been happy. He had fulfilled Qui-Gon’s final wish. He had trained Anakin, he had spent ten years teaching the boy and watching him grow, he had cared for him and scolded him and coddled him by turns. He had, for better or worse, been Anakin Skywalker’s Master. ✦ hold on to this lullaby by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & rex, 1k     “Anakin,” Kenobi says with a hint of a reprimand in his voice. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Skywalker staggers further into the room, and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. He rolls his eyes but it doesn’t do anything to mitigate the color high on his face and the effect it has on his features: a pleased expression flashing clear as ion fire. Having made his way to one of the chairs, he drops down onto it with the elegance of a Hutt. ✦ Any Other World by mysticmjolnir, obi-wan/anakin & vader & leia & reva, NSFW, dimension hopping, 24.2k wip     Anakin has been looking for his Master for a very long time. Finally, on Mapuzo, he finds him. ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k     An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving. ✦ spirit meets the bone by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, time travel, dom/sub, 2k     Or, the Force keeps sending Anakin forward in time from the Clone Wars. ✦ Azúcar, Sudor by Delzi, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking/discipline, 18.6k wip     Anakin can't stand Obi-Wan's new disciplinary tactic, but he absolutely loves it. ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k     Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.3k     Anakin’s eyes snapped open. Oh no. Oh no. Anakin slumped back into the bed, staring down at himself in horror. Anakin Skywalker had just had a wet dream about Obi-Wan Kenobi. [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k     An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving.

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD: ✦ Strings Pulled Taut by preromantics, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k     (AKA Anakin gets a bunch of gunk in his hair, Obi-Wan has been hyper-fixated, and it all bursts like a bubble.) ✦ dark red by wesnenski, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k     He feels Obi-Wan before he sees him: a ripple in the Force, a glow of warmth in the darkness. When he appears from the shadows like a bleary-eyed spectre, Anakin can only look up at him, nostrils flared, lip quivering. Here is his Master, tired and gaunt but solid and present and real. ✦ Take Care of Yourself, I Wish I Could by Kefalion, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 7k     While Obi-Wan and Anakin are alone on a planet during a mission, Anakin goes into a presentation heat. One Obi-Wan will not help him through no matter how much they'd both want it. Not that they know that want is mutual. ✦ Fever by dirkygoodness, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, cat boy!anakin, 3.5k     Obi-Wan wakes up to a cuddly (Ny)Anakin and is met with something he isn't expecting. He's going to have to deal with it though. And enjoy himself as he does. ✦ sink into the dunes by stardies, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 9k     [A collection of small Obikin drabbles. Each chapter will have its own one shot.] 01. sfw, anakin’s separation anxiety. 02. first time nsfw. 03. obikin zine piece, sith!obi-wan, jedi!anakin, handjobs. ✦ a necessary respite by Anonymous, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.6k     to be fair, all of this is obiwan’s fault. even though his master is calmly sorting through reports the faint buzz of arousal in the back of both of their heads is majorly coming from him, anakin just can’t help but react to it. ✦ the lean and hungry type by tideswept, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.5k     And so is Anakin, really, for being excited about this rather than angry. He wets his lower lip, striving to cohere his thoughts into something that isn’t appallingly horny, when Master speaks. “I’m not in rut,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t spring that on you.” “I mean,” Anakin pauses. “You could.” ✦ when people show you who they are, believe them by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, spanking, dom/sub, 3k     Anakin has a meeting with the Chancellor. Obi-Wan convinces him to take a slow morning instead. ✦ needs must by silianrail, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dual sex!anakin, 1.7k     Anakin must be the neediest omega in the entire temple, if not on the entire planet. But if Anakin is needy, what does that make Obi-Wan, who, after all, bends to so many of his padawan’s desires? ✦ Use Me by kittimau, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.5k     Anakin knows what Obi-Wan needs, even if he won't say it.

✦ Insatiable by TheSopherfly, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.8k     Obi-Wan meets Anakin’s eyes with a rueful smile. “You wanted it fast, yes?” “Yes.” Even without their responsibilities looming, Anakin would’ve wanted it like this; quick and dirty, like they just can’t help themselves. “Yeah. Fast is perfect.” “Good,” Obi-Wan says, punctuating the word with a single thrust. “Because I don’t think I’ll last long.” Or; With the twins still asleep, Anakin and Obi-Wan steal some time for themselves. ✦ Hazy Shade of Winter by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.7k     Obi-Wan runs hot; Anakin most definitely does not. Thankfully Obi-Wan is there to warm Anakin up when things get unusually cold in the Jedi Temple. ✦ The Love You Want by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, potential dub con-esque (read the tags), 6.8k     They've returned to their rooms after sparring, flushed and laughing and close enough that the very air feels heated between them. Once the door has closed, Obi-Wan turns to Anakin, smiling, takes Anakin's jaw in the cup of his hand and kisses him like the first blush of spring. "You'll be good for me, won't you?" he murmurs, and Anakin does nothing more than dreamily nod because he knows just what to do when he's slipped under like this. Knows his job is to be obedient and pliant and good. ✦ Handle Me With Care by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k     Obi Wan wants Anakin but he knows he shouldn't. He also knows that there is no way he could ever act on it - or so he thought. ✦ tear me apart by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 2.4k     Obi-Wan uses Anakin in the Council Chamber ✦ A Lesson in Listening by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, toys, 4.4k     “Anakin,” Obi-Wan says simply. Anakin feels chills run down his spine. That tone means everything except simplicity. “Bedroom.” His husband commands. ✦ Keeping Company by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 11.1k     "So, will you? Will you help me through my heat? Please, I want you to fuck me, Master, I need it." Anakin doesn't care that he's begging already, but he's getting even wetter between his legs and he can't help it. Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind anyway, because he groans and drags his fingers up into Anakin's hair and tugs slightly, making Anakin gasp. "Force, yes, I'll give you what you need, Anakin." ✦ king unmaker by unbitten, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, transmasc!anakin, royalty au, 4.4k     How to get your King to stop playing hooky from his appointments to make trips to the brothel? Scold him. Stare disapprovingly. Fuck him yourself.

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT: ✦ Reunion by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/darth vader, ~1k     Some sweetness to help with the absolute agony of Obi-Wan lol ✦ The Jedi Child by RowenaNie, obi-wan/darth vader & luke & leia & cast, NSFW, pregnant!anakin, 48.1k     “The emperor has put my replacement inside of me,” Vader said. ✦ Hand in Unlovable Hand by Rachello344, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.8k     Post Kenobi Part VI: Instead of leaving Vader for dead, Obi-Wan finds himself unable to abandon his dear friend again and so takes him with him. How can Obi-Wan Kenobi live without the other half of himself? Whatever it takes, he will drag Anakin back to himself, kicking and screaming. ✦ dreamscape melodies by egeria, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.9k     "The layers you Jedi wear are ridiculous," Vader grumbled. Obi-Wan let out a huff. "We're in a dream, are we not? Can we not just will our clothes off?" -- or: Vader is in heat and Obi-Wan is in his dream. It's still complicated. ✦ to restrain the darkness by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, some dom/sub, 2k     Or, Vader wants Obi-Wan to tie him up. ✦ dreams of old by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, nsfw, 4.1k wip     Obi-Wan surrenders to Vader on Jabiim in exchange for everyone else's freedom.

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE: ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k     Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ Sticky by Delziae, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & rex & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 25.9k     [Or: In which Anakin is too horny to handle and Obi-wan has a bit less control than he originally thought.] ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k     After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme, 10.3k     [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ Stargazing by thegingerwrites, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 21k     Anakin and Obi-Wan have become too well-known on the Holonet to take on undercover assignments anymore. But desperate times call for desperate measures and the Council asks them to make contact with a Separatist defector at a gala hosted on Mandalore. At least the event is a masquerade. ✦ praise you by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 17.9k     An act of insubordination, a crash landing and a trek through the forests of an uncharted planet bring Anakin and Obi-Wan to a very hospitable village. Sure they think Anakin is a god, but really, what's wrong with wanting to be appreciated? ✦ terribly inconvenient and incredibly terrific by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 24.8k     Obi-Wan has the sheer nerve to imply that Anakin is ill-suited for a mission he himself is going on, which means that Anakin will stop at nothing to prove his old master wrong. After all, Anakin can do anything Obi-Wan can do, thank you very much. Even if maybe, just this one time, Obi-Wan is right. This mission relies on the one area of Anakin's life he's never spent much time or effort thinking about: his omega designation and Obi-Wan's alpha one. But there's no way that Anakin is going to back down now. What will Obi-Wan do? Go to the planet with another, non-Anakin omega? Don't make him laugh. He's Obi-Wan's partner. And Obi-Wan is his alpha. Alpha master. Same thing. ✦ and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me by brahe, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & qui-gon & rex & cast, 37.9k     “Jus’ like a sun,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan has to strain to hear it, almost misses it. He stills. “Beautiful shining sun,” Anakin continues, and presses his face further into the pool of robes. His voice is slow and sleepy, and Obi-Wan realizes he can tell Anakin is about to drop off into sleep. He blinks, lifting his head to stare down at him in something between awe and shock. That seems to be the standard operating procedure when it comes to Anakin, he thinks, a little wry, a little wondrous.

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM: ✦ a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by treescape, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 7.8k     “A vacation, you need,” Master Yoda had insisted firmly beneath their incredulous stares when they’d first received their instructions. “On a beach, perhaps, hmmm?” ✦ The Lonely Mollusk by temple_mistress, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, nsfw, 2k     Obi-Wan was incredibly horny, Anakin was, Force-bless him, more than ready to oblige, and the children were miraculously still sleeping. ✦ looking for trouble by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin (mentioned obi-wan/anakin/padme), spanking, 1.7k     Anakin gets in a fight. Obi-Wan cleans him up and spanks him.

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND: ✦ (I just) died in your arms tonight by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & cast, modern au, 2.5k wip     Where Obi-Wan is still a master of politics and Anakin still fixes spaceships and they’re still irrevocably obsessed with one another. ✦ Win Condition by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, F1 au, 4.3k     Anakin has just won his first race of his F1 career and Obi-Wan, his longtime trainer and partner, knows just what his boy should get as a reward. (His dick. The reward is his dick.) ✦ Hooked on You by whohatessand, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 5.2k     With his wife's approaching senatorial election, Anakin Skywalker tries desperately to be the perfect husband she needs. Little does Padmé know, her husband has been sleeping with her campaign manager, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for quite a while now. ✦ we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, fake married, 5.8k wip     He looks up and meets Anakin’s eyes. A thoughtful expression passes over his face. “Married people are paid significantly more,” he says then, slowly, looking at Anakin like he’s trying to solve a riddle. Anakin stares, dumbstruck. “Huh.” ✦ Would You Like Cream With That? by ranianke, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, professor obi-wan, 2.1k     Obi-Wan was a good teacher. His students learned the content, he got flattering reviews (even when you ignored the chili pepper Rate My Professors reviews that he could not seem to get taken down), and he generally liked teaching. Good professors did not sleep with their students. ✦ Pride & Preparation by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, school au, 5.6k     “You’re beautiful,” Anakin praised, making Obi-Wan blush. “And nervous.” Obi-Wan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” Anakin said easily, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I love you, and this is going to be really fun.” ✦ swear each night to let him go by vorpalstars, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 10.3k wip     Anakin develops an unfortunate amount of lust for his literature teacher ✦ Seven Minutes in Anakin by Saratutti, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, dom/sub, 1.9k     Fully enamored doesn't even begin to describe Anakin’s captivation with the gorgeous professor he has stumbled into dating this Christmas season. ✦ The Melody Wakes the Heart by edgeofn1ght, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 3.5k     However, it's practically love at first sight when Obi-Wan passes a new busker working the alley he passes through every day going to and from work. ✦ Pick-up Games by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 1.1k     Ben’s quiet afternoon is ruined by a basketball player who needs some medical attention. He doesn’t mind too much. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 22: Brakebills by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.2k     Anakin Skywalker was not a typical student of Brakebills University for Magical Pedagogy.

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU: ✦ death by any other name by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, vampire au, 11.5k     While on a mission during his years as a Padawan, Obi-Wan escapes the tight hold of death transformed into something not quite human. In the years following, he isn’t always so lucky. ✦ Till Human Voices Wake Us by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, mer!anakin, 2.7k     It’s late summer when Obi-Wan first notices a flash of gold between the waves. ✦ Goodbye by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, nsfw, 1.2k     Anakin has no wish to leave Obi-Wan, not when they have just been reunited. Luckily for him, Obi-Wan is good at making their goodbye very memorable. ✦ tender like a bruise by stardies, obi-wan/anakin & cast, omegaverse, 6.8k wip     In a stroke of desperation, Obi-wan mates Anakin Skywalker by force on the fiery planet of Mustafar to stop his Fall and save his life. Taken back to Coruscant and imprisoned, Anakin feels the senate's pressure for justice, and Obi-wan, his mate and former mentor is determined to give him another chance. ✦ canaries underground by TheGoodDoctor, obi-wan/padme & references to anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, padme lives, 10k     There are good days, and bad days. This is a good one. ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & mace & yoda & palpatine & cast, NSFW, Not a Jedi!Anakin, Sith!Obi-Wan, 63.5k     Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can't refuse. These things are, actually, related.

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS: ✦ you can't just leave me by amadwinter, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, 1.6k     Anakin swears he’s above his Omega instincts, but when he’s sparring with his Alpha master one day, some wires get crossed that leave him unable to distinguish friend from foe. A primal fear consumes him, and no amount of Jedi training will shake the feeling he needs to escape. He needs to protect himself from the dangerous Alpha circling around him, searching for any sign of weakness. When backed into a corner, an Omega’s last line of defense is their bite. After all, an Alpha would never hurt their mate… ✦ A Little Early, A Little Late by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 7.4k     Anakin finds out he's pregnant. The problem is that his mating ceremony isn't for another four months. ✦ Sweet Surprise by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 12.3k     Obi Wan and Anakin are forced to land on an unfamiliar planet. Anakin is perplexed by everyone's obvious interest in him, unsure what could be causing it. That is, until he receives some unexpected news. The problem is, Anakin's not quite sure he believes it. The other problem is what Obi Wan might think when he finds out. ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & vokara, NSFW, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 5.3k     After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying.

[zaczenemiji]

Could I request a Kenji x Reader where the reader is an Ailen who is very much stranded on Earth and on The run from the KDF who wants access to their tech

Among the Stars I

Kenji Sato x Alien!Reader

Word Count: 1,766

Genre/Warning: Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Author’s Note: To me, reader is an alien in the sense that she is a foreigner to this planet; how she looks is up to you. Takes place after Emi. AND I THINK AOSHIMA DESERVES RECOGNITION LIKE 🫢 AIN’T HE HOT TOO?????

MASTERLIST

The stars twinkled in the dark expanse of space as you navigated through the cosmos. This wasn’t the first time you traversed through the void. In fact, you were a professional at this.

Being one of the respected astrophysicists of your planet, you have always been one sent on space voyages. Your mission was simple, something you were good at, so what could possibly go wrong?

At least that’s what you thought a few moments ago.

"Engine malfunction detected. Immediate landing required.”

As if the flashing red lights and blaring alarms weren’t enough, the onboard AI wouldn’t shut up either, all of them adding up to the panic in your already pounding heart.

“Engine failure. Emergency landing procedure initiated.”

Your struggle to regain control was hopeless. Assessing your options, Earth was the nearest habitable planet. With no time to spare, you steered the spacecraft towards the blue planet.

The descent was turbulent, flames licking at the hull as the spacecraft entered Earth's atmosphere. You gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain the little control you had left.

Scanning the residential area that stretched beneath, you spotted a forested area and made a split-second decision. With expert precision, your maneuver slowed down the descent just enough to avoid a catastrophic impact.

The spacecraft touched down with a jolt, skidding through the underbrush before coming to a stop. Smoke billowed from the damaged engines and you knew you needed to secure the craft first.

Despite the damage, the emergency propulsion system still had enough power for short-distance travel. With steady hands, you activated the system again, guiding the spacecraft toward a nearby body of water.

The craft hovered momentarily above with a soft hum. Carefully pushing the controls, you maneuvered it into a controlled descent where it submerged beneath the water, disappearing from view.

In the control room of the Kaiju Defense Force, monitors flickered with data streams from satellite scans displaying Japan’s airspace and terrestrial activity.

"Report," Aoshima commanded.

"Sir, we've detected a significant impact in sector 7G. Satellite images indicate a disturbance in the forested area, consistent with an object of considerable mass landing."

Aoshima scrutinized the images, noting the telltale signs of a recent crash landing, “Any signs of the object itself?"

"Negative visual confirmation, sir. The object appears to have made impact and then moved into concealment."

"Prepare a recon team," Aoshima ordered crisply. "I want a full scan of the area. Notify all units in the vicinity to be on alert."

Aoshima contemplated the implications. For years, KDF had struggled against the relentless onslaught of kaiju attacks under Dr. Onda. His last will was for the survival of KDF.

Aoshima shared Dr. Onda’s vision and if this alien technology held the key to turning the tide in humanity's favor, they couldn't afford to hesitate.

Meanwhile, having just emerged from the submerged spacecraft, you cautiously explored the area. Your advanced sensors warned you of Earth's surveillance systems, but you had hoped to remain undetected.

Your hope, however, was short-lived as the sound of whirring and a shadow passing overhead alerted you to the arrival of drones. Quickly, you dashed into the forest, heart pounding as you navigated the unfamiliar terrain.

Above you, the drones buzzed in pursuit, their sensors tracking your every move. Their operators relayed your position to ground units, who quickly mobilized to intercept.

You emerged onto the outskirts of a bustling city. Buildings towered overhead and streets were crowded with unsuspecting pedestrians. You had to blend in to evade capture.

Tokyo has always been bustling with a sea of people moving with purpose. Among them was Kenji and today, his life would take a turn he could never have predicted.

He was jogging through a quieter part of the city when suddenly, a force collided with him, nearly knocking him off balance. Looking down, he saw a woman his age, face partially obscured by a hooded cloak.

You looked up at him, eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you gasped, glancing over your shoulder. "I... I need to go."

Before Kenji could respond, you tried to bolt, but he gently grabbed your arm. "Hey, what's going on?” He asked, genuinely concerned. “You look terrified."

You hesitated, clearly torn between fear and the need for help. Before you could decide, KDF agents appeared at the end of the street.

“Surrender peacefully, and we won't harm you," one of them demanded sternly.

"No," you replied, a slight determination in your trembling voice.

Kenji’s instincts flared. To him, KDF has been nothing but trouble. So without a word, he pulled you behind him, putting himself between you and the agents.

They slowed, eyes narrowing at Kenji. "This is official business," the leader said, his voice cold. "Step aside."

Kenji ignored the command, gripping your hand tighter. "Run," he whispered urgently, before leading you in a sprint away from KDF.

The two of you took off with Kenji guiding you through a series of narrow alleyways and bustling streets.

"Over here," he whispered, pulling you into a side street. You dodged through a market, running between stalls and startled shoppers. The KDF was temporarily delayed by the crowd, buying you precious seconds.

Kenji's heart pounded, both from the exertion and the adrenaline. "Keep your hood up," he urged you. "We can't let them see your face."

You continued running, the sound of pursuit growing fainter. Kenji led you through a maze of side streets, finally emerging onto a quieter residential road.

"Almost there," he panted, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Finally, you reached a house guarded by a big gate on the outskirts of the city. Kenji quickly unlocked the gate and ushered you towards the house.

Inside, Kenji guided you to the living room, where you sank onto the couch, hood falling back and revealing your face.

“Mina, emergency analysis,” he said as a spherical robot hovered towards you, red light scanning your body.

"Scan complete," Mina announced. "Subject is experiencing elevated stress levels and minor physical exhaustion. No immediate threats and no tracking devices detected.”

"Thank you," you said, voice filled with gratitude and lingering fear.

Kenji nodded, breathing heavily. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, her gaze lingering on him with a mix of surprise and curiosity, “I didn't expect anyone to help."

"I'm Kenji," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

You hesitated briefly before shaking his hand, "I'm (y/n)."

"You can catch your breath here,” Kenji said, standing up. “I'll get us some water." He returned with two glasses of water; you accepted one gratefully.

"Why were those guys after you?" Kenji asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm not from Earth. I'm…” you hesitated but you owed him an explanation and also to save you from the trouble of pretending. “…an alien."

"An alien?” He blinked in surprise. “But you look human."

"Alien in the sense that I'm from a distant planet," you explained softly. "I crash-landed here not long ago.”

You told him everything—your mission, how you ended up being chased by what he referred to as the Kaiju Defense Force, and your spacecraft.

“I would like to ask another favor if it’s not too much,” you said with hesitation; Kenji helping you escape and sheltering you was already more than enough. “I need you to help me find Ultraman.”

You knew about Ultraman and his origin. You’ve been sent to Nebula M78 a couple of times already. If there’s someone who could help you get back to your planet, it’s him.

“Ultraman?” Kenji's eyes widened. “Why?"

“I know of him,” you said. "He might be the only one who can help me.”

Kenji took a deep breath, realizing he couldn't keep his secret any longer. "Well, there’s something you should know,” he said.

“What is it?” You asked, confused.

He looked straight into your eyes, his face set with resolve, “I'm Ultraman."

The room fell silent. "You're...” your eyes widened. “Ultraman?"

Kenji nodded, “Yes, and I’m not supposed to tell anyone but if helping you means revealing it, then so be it."

Your eyes teared up with joy. Just when you thought that this day was full of bad luck, here came your silver lining—a stunning man one at that.

Kenji asked you about the whereabouts of your spacecraft so he, in his Ultraman form, can bring it here in no time. His house had a basement submerged underwater which provided an easy way to bring it over.

His dad, the previous Ultra, happened to live with him. Kenji explained the situation and his dad, an expert in this field, generously offered to help.

Hayao circled the craft, examining it closely. "Impressive design," he muttered, running his hands over the hull. "But clearly, it's been through a lot."

"I think it’s the power core," you explained. "It was heavily depleted during the crash, and I can't get the ship operational again."

"I see. A power core like this...” Hayao nodded thoughtfully. “…it's incredibly advanced. Recharging it with Earth's technology would be almost impossible."

"So, there's no way to fix it?" You looked at him, worried and on the brink of tears.

"Not exactly,” he smiled reassuringly. “While we can't recharge it with conventional means, there might be another way. We need an alternative energy source—something with immense power."

"What about the energy that powers Ultraman?” Kenji stepped forward. “Could it work?"

Hayao considered this, nodding slowly. "It's possible,” he said. “Ultraman's energy is vast and unique. We might be able to transfer some of it to the power core."

Your eyes lit up with hope, “Do you think it could really work?" Hayao placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "It's worth a try.”

He explained that he would first need to create an energy transfer device. But with the resources here on Earth, it’s a trial and error to see which would be compatible with your spacecraft. Needless to say, it would take a lot longer before you could go back home.

Kenji led you down a hallway to a cozy guest room. He opened the door, revealing a spacious room with a bed, a dresser, and a big window overlooking the bay.

“You can stay here until we figure everything out,” Kenji said. “It's safer than being out there with the KDF looking for you."

"Are you sure?” You looked up at him. “I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden,” he smiled reassuringly. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."

With that, you settled into the room with a sense of peace for the first time since crashing on Earth.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

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[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Military Assassinations

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“What do you mean General Veers is dead?”

From the corner of the room Nifien could hear the lowly orderly who had drew the ire of the prince swallow as if they were choking on a Ganta Nut.

“Forgive me my prince,” the orderly stammered, “but General Veers was killed several months ago during the opening stages of the conflict.”

Glaring at the orderly with a mixture of displeasure and disgust, Prince Kiora was growing more impatient by the minute. He had been sent by his father the king to check on the status of the war front with the humans only to find himself greeted by lower ranking officers instead of the supreme commander himself; and now he had learned why.

“Why was the homeworld not informed of his death?” Kiora asked as he looked up from the orderly and stared down the remaining senior staff inside the war room. Only Nifien met his gaze but said nothing.

“With regrets great one, all transmissions have been blocked by a network of human cyber warfare satellites.”  

Quickly pulling out a data pad and thumbing in several keys in rapid succession, the holographic projector spun to life and presented an image of the world they now stood upon in the center of the room. The orderly pointed to a rash of tiny red icons that began appearing above the planet and moving in perfect formation across the entire atmosphere.

“Any transmission sent from the surface is rebounded off their satellites and sent back to the surface. We’ve been unable to get a signal out since we first arrived and with our navy hampered by the human fleet we’ve been in short supply of any orbit capable craft to breach the bubble and-“

The prince held up a hand dismissively and the orderly stopped their explanation. Rubbing his four eyes the prince said nothing as he took in the information laid out before him. The information homeworld had was clearly well and outdated by this new developments and that shifted the entire picture for Kiora.

“I assume General Mentau now leads the campaign then? Why is he not here?”

The gathered officer core looked nervous and said nothing as the orderly tried to speak but stopped themselves several times.

“Because he too is also dead, your highness;” Nifien spoke as he stepped forward, “along with General Jul’nin, Safar, Dre’nuk, and Gin’tharie.”

  “Dead?!” The prince spoke out in surprise, “All of them?!?”

“I’m afraid so.” Nifien replied as he stood next to the orderly. With a subtle nod he dismissed the orderly who thankfully bowed his head to both Nifien and the prince before retreating back to the corners of the room; no doubt thankful to no longer be the prime focus of the prince.

“How was this…this…disaster, allowed to unfurl..” the prince began as he looked at Nifien and it dawned on him that he had not introduced himself yet.

“Apologies my liege,” he began as he bowed, “I am Nifien Ve-gar, Commander of the 3rd front and acting supreme commander of the campaign.”

“How was this allowed to happen?” the prince reiterated, to which Nifien entered several keys into his own data pad and the projection shifted to a video feed.

“Shortly after our arrival General Veers was targeted by what the humans call a “hit squad”, and terminated while touring the front lines.”

The video feed was footage from a soldiers weapon camera mount and showed the general very much alive and discussing matters with several soldiers gathered around him. Veers was well known to be loved by his forces as he would see the frontlines for himself time to time and speak with his forces personally.

Just as the General finished telling a joke which had the gathered host laughing the back of his head blew out and showered his bodyguards standing behind him in brain matter. The gathered mass of soldiers began shouting while and searching for the direction the shot came from as Veers bodyguards cradled their now deceased leader and dragged his body away off screen before the feed ended.

“Shortly after his death General Mentau took overall command of the campaign. He held the position for a month before he too was likewise terminated by what we believe to be the same hit squad.”

Another feed appeared on the screen showing General Mentau’s personal command vehicle pulling into a compound only for it to suddenly explode violently. Black flames emerged from the shattered windows and the general’s death screams could be heard causing several of the gathered officers to look away in horror.

Rather than showing more gruesome footage several pictures of the other decease general’s appeared on screen showing they had met similar fates, along with half a dozen other lower ranking officers.

“Without a proper chain of command to direct the larger picture,” Nifien continued as the hologram switched to project the territories controlled by their forces and the humans, “the entire army had ground to a standstill. Some units have been operating under order several weeks old by now leaving the entire front stagnant. In the last month alone I have had to issue field promotions to some thirty six officers to keep the entire army from falling in on itself and even now the measure is merely a stopgap to the much larger issue. ”

Kiora listened in silence as the scope of the problem was finally laid bare. Without clear lines of leadership and orders to follow the entire invasion force was now on the verge of disintegration.

“If you have promoted new officers why has the war continued to remain a stalemate?” the prince asked.

Nifien shrugged. “Every soldier by now knows about the human hit squads and is terrified of them, especially the newly promoted officers. By now they all know there is a giant target on their back and the paranoia is making them halt and consolidate their gains to ensure their own safety.”

The holographic projection shifted again to show a blurry outline of a figure from great distance. Nifien pointed to the figure as he spoke to the prince. “This is the only photo of the human hit squad that we have. Despite every security upgrade we have done, patrols altered, transmission frequency recoded; they are still able to bypass our lines and target officers.”

He chuckled despite himself. “Hells, I’ve not been able to leave this command bunker since becoming acting commander and that was over a month ago.”

Though he was disgusted with the human’s cowardly tactics Kiora had to admit that they had played themselves well. With but the slayings of a few individuals the entire army had been ground to a halt as they awaited orders that would never come.

“When my father hears of this disaster he will be most…..displeased.” the prince said in a low tone which the gathered officers knew all too well. The King’s displeasure was that of a death sentence in all but name and their only hope was to earn some crumb of glory to stave off the butcher’s axe from their necks.

To the prince’s surprise Nifien shook his head. “I’m afraid that will be a long time before he hears that your highness.”

“And why is that?” Kiora dismissed flatly. “Do you think your temporary station gives you some measure of control over one of the royal blood?”

“Never your grace, but it does ensure me when in matters of your protection.”

“My protections?” the prince replied startled, “What do you mean?”

“These humans have shown they are more than capable of killing anyone at nearly any time of their choosing.” Nifien began, “So what do you think they will do when they learn that their most hated enemy’s prince has arrived at the warzone?”

The realization finally dawned for Kiora as his mouth hung open.

“Chances are the moment you step foot outside of this bunker, you will be dead before you even lay eyes on your ship.”

[holdmytesseract]

For the sleepover my love

Yn Kenobi looks for Kylo Ren after the force ghost of Anakin advised her to stop his dark path - they end up in a fight of swords and moral and attraction ❤️

Torn Apart

Kylo Ren x fem!Reader

Warnings: uhhh Star Wars stuff? Lightsabers/fights, angst, fluff? Y/N is Obi-Wan's granddaughter.

Word Count: definitely a bit more than a drabble 👀

a/n: Well... What can I say... I love this. Thank you so much, friend. I changed it up a bit, but you know. 😉

The hangar was bustling with pilots, droids and other Resistance fighters; maintaining and repairing their ships and coordinating things. You didn't pay much attention, though. Your focus was entirely on getting your X-Wing prepared for your mission. But just as you wanted to board your star-fighter, a voice cut through the noises of heavy machinery and chatter. A voice you only knew too well.

"Y/N! Y/N wait!"

You knew you shouldn't; knowing that your friend would only try to hold you back, but you also just couldn't leave.

"Y/N!" Finn called out again; reaching you completely out of breath. "Finn. What are you doing here?" You had a guess, but asked anyway.

"Don't... Don't go." The former stormtrooper panted; looked at you with a pleading gaze. You sighed. "Finn... I have to." He violently shook his head. "No, no you don't. We'll find another way!" "There's no other way," you said; placing a hand on his shoulder. "There always is!" Your friend immediately shot back; almost desperate. "No. Not this time."

A frustrated groan left the man's lips. "Why, Y/N? Why you?! Why must you do this?! Just because you're former friends with this... traitorous snake?"

You sighed once again; memories of your youth quite a few years back flooded your mind, causing you to quickly shut your eyes and close them off again. Now was not the time to wallow in the past.

"We weren't just friends, Finn." It was all you said, before you climbed inside the X-Wing.

"Not just friends?" Finn had clearly trouble to catch up what you meant. "What is that supposed to- Hold on..." All features of your friend's face derailed. The next words he literally shouted at you fell on deaf ears. The cockpit around you was already closed. You took a deep breath, ignored Finn and started the engines. He had no other choice than to step aside and let you go.

You left the hanger and with that the main Resistance cruiser behind. But before you set course for the planet below you, you sent a last message to your General. Leia Organa.

"This is Y/N Kenobi on my way back to D'Qar. General Organa... You might not agree on this, but we both know that I have to do it. It's probably my last- no... My only chance." You paused; taking another deep breath. "I'm going to bring him back to you, Leia. Back to us. I will leave D'Qar with him... Or not at all." With those words you ended your message and addressed your droid. "BB-7?" The familiar beeping of your mechanic friend caused you to smile. "Can you send this message to General Organa as soon as we landed?" The answer came promptly. "Thanks, buddy. Now let's get this done." With that you flew off; opposed the direction of your people. While the Resistance evacuated D'Qar, you flew straight back into the danger zone; hoping that your target would come alone and not bringing any friends.

On your monitor, you saw the ships of the Resistance fleet jump to light speed and vanish on the radar.

You flew straight back to the now former base, hid away your X-Wing in the deep forests of the planet and waited. Waited for your destiny to find its way to you.

And it did.

You could already feel his presence through the force. Even though he hadn't stepped a single foot on this planet. Yet.

You hid on top of one of the tarnished mounds, right behind a massive satellite; watching his shuttle invade the sky above you. You expected him to fire everything he got at the base, but you also knew that he wasn't stupid. He landed - and when the ramp lowered and he stepped out, you felt your breath catch in your throat; heartbeat quickening.

You hadn't seen him in years. Lastly when he destroyed Luke's Jedi temple on Ossus all those years back. Once more, memories flooded your mind. Of that very night. How you tried to talk sense into Ben; screaming his name through the fire, cries and whirring sound of lightsabers. In vain. It was the moment you realised that you had lost him.

And now you were here to get him back.

Due to the mask he wore, you couldn't see his face, of course, but you knew that he must at least feel that something was off. He stood in the middle of the deserted base; looking around for a few moments. Then he made his way towards one of the entries.

That was it. The moment you had waited for; destiny finally catching up with you.

You took a deep breath and left your hiding place.

"They aren't here anymore. Nobody is. You're too late."

Kylo stopped in his movements; like frozen to the ground with his back towards you. You jumped from the mound; landing on the earthy ground right behind him. He clearly needed a moment to recover.

"Am I?" His distorted voice urged to your ears; almost causing your knees to give in. You were so weak in this very moment; knowing that your feelings for him hadn't changed. Not even in the slightest. The difficulty was to hide it from him.

"Yes," you answered as stoically as possible. "You won't find the Resistance fighters here. Neither your mother, nor your uncle."

Suddenly, he turned to face you, "That may be. But you are here." and started to slowly pace up and down. "Why?"

"Because I have to. It's where I need to be. My destiny."

"Your destiny?" Kylo spat mockingly. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Yes... That clearly wasn't the man you once knew. The man you kissed at night and secretly shared a bed with; breaking the rules. But what he did was way worse than breaking some rules.

You clenched your teeth; knowing that you had to stay strong.

"Take at least that stupid mask off you're hiding behind, when you talk to the woman you once shared a bed with!" You could tell that your words hit a nerve; seeing his fists clench and unclench.

Silence settled over the base, until a mechanic hiss sounded from across you. He was taking his mask off. You didn't expect this. Not at all. And when familiar brown eyes met yours, you felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You couldn't even move a single muscle. All you did was looking in those beautiful brown eyes, which were once filled with love and gentleness. The same brown eyes you so often sought and found comfort in. Which had been your safe haven. The key element of your whole existence. The ones you had trusted with your life.

And now? Now they only held darkness, strength and raw power. This realisation ripped your heart into shreds. You wanted to be so strong and now you had to fight so hard against the upcoming tears.

Avoiding his gaze was the only salvation. So you did; let your gaze wander over his facial features instead.

He had grown; was definitely more mature. That much you could tell. The sweet, happy, sunny boy replaced by a cold, harsh, merciless man.

Nevertheless, you couldn't deny that he was the same handsome man with the beautiful long black curls you fell in love with.

Kylo didn't say a single word either; just looking at you seemingly emotionless.

You shook your head; suppressing the tears. "What happened to you, Ben?" "I've seen the truth, Y/N. I killed the past."

This shot a searing pain through your whole body. "Killed the past? Ben, this isn't your destined path! You can still turn around! It's not too late!"

The man opposite you furrowed his brows. "That's why you're here? To win me over?" "No... This isn't just about winning you over. I'm here because I want the man I love back." Now Kylo was the one shaking his head. "It's too late for that, Y/N. You can't turn me. Nothing won't change my mind. Not even love. I'm going to do what I have to do and fulfil my grandfather's legacy...," he snarled; drawing his lightsaber. With an ear-piercing hiss came its blood red blade to light, "...and nobody will stop me. Not even you." pointed straight into your direction.

You swallowed hard and drew your lightsaber as well. Unlike Kylo's blade was yours blue. "Well, that's too bad for you, because I am not going to let you walk away a second time. I already made that mistake once. I won't let it happen again."

"Foolish of you to believe this. You've got too much of your father and grandfather in you." "Yes... Just like you, Solo."

Kylo gritted his teeth and stormed forwards; his lightsaber clashing against yours.

The fight was hard, rough and unforgiving. You and Kylo threw in everything you got; not once backing up or lacking stamina. One moment Kylo had the upper hand and the next you. Your battle had led you away from the base and all the way into the woods; leaving a trail of burnt earth and destroyed trees behind.

And to make matters even worse, it had started to rain.

You stood on a hill; panting heavily. Kylo stood on the forest ground beneath you; throwing you an angry look.

"Let us stop this madness! Ben, please!" You screamed through the rain; feeling the water soaking your robes. He shook his head; waterdrops dripping from his black curls, "No! We are going to finish what we started!" and raised his lightsaber once more; ready to attack. "It's me - or you!"

You just stared at him for another moment, before you took a deep breath - and jumped. With a loud hiss met your lightsaber his. The strength of your blow caused him to stumble backwards, but he quickly recovered. Once again he stormed forwards and wanted to strike you, but you lifted both your arms; catching his wrists before he was able to hit you.

It was the first time since years, that you touched Ben again - and it almost took your breath away. It felt like time itself froze around you and him.

The force flowing through both your veins connected you; causing visions to explode in front of your eyes. Visions of the future. What was and what could be. They flew by way too fast. It was impossible for you to grasp all of them. But no matter how fast they came and went, they all had one thing in common... A different setting, but the same outcome. You and Ben. Together.

One showed you the two of you flying around the galaxy; exploring every existent planet. Another showed the two of you leading the Resistance, together with his mother. You saw love, a marriage, children - a family.

And suddenly it was all gone. Nothing but silence. Around you. In your mind. Everywhere.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open; feeling the cold, wet forest ground underneath you. Still a bit dizzy and confused, you stood up and tried to understand what had happened.

Kylo sat on the groud as well, quite a few meters away from you.

The force... The two of you touching each other after such a long time was apparently too much.

But you knew what you saw. He must've seen it, too...

On still wobbly legs and knees, you walked over to Ben; hand outstretched. "Come with me. Please. I've seen the conflict inside you. I've seen your future. Our future. You must have seen it, too!"

Once again were those beautiful brown eyes looking up at you; reflecting the conflict you had seen. "I..." He eyed your hand; the light and darkness battling within Kylo. "I can't," he breathed; eyes filling up with tears.

There it was. The glimmer of hope.

You nodded. "Yes, yes you can! Just take my hand!"

He blinked; torn apart about what to do.

You were absolutely certain that you made it - made him see, but then Kylo acted too fast for you to react. Within the blink of an eye, he jumped to his feet and brought you down on your knees; both lightsabers flying off the ground and into his hands.

That was it. He had overpowered you. You couldn't stand a chance.

Perhaps he was right and it was really too late - but you refused to believe this and started one last desperate try.

"What are you waiting for? Do it! Kill me!" Kylo activated both lightsabers; jaw clenching. "Do it!" You screamed at him again. "I'd rather die than live my life without you; knowing that I really lost you forever!"

Your words caused the man towering above you to freeze in his movements.

"You... You would rather die than live without me?" Kylo asked in disbelief. Wind blew through his hair; rain hitting his face again. "Of course I would! You are all I ever wanted and needed! Don't you see?!"

He answered nothing; only stared at you. The gears in his head turning at lightning speed. Seconds felt like minutes, before he extinguished both blades of the weapons in his hands and threw them carelessly aside. You couldn't believe your eyes when he was dropping to his knees as well in front of you; taking both your hands in his. "I... I think I see now. Clearly, for the first time in my life."

You hesitated at first, but then you felt the conflict in him was gone. There was love, peace and light. You made it. Your love made it.

[letterful]

❝ “Columbia now nine times the speed of sound.” “Roger that, Dan, I’ve got a solid TACAN locked on, uh, TACAN twenty-three.” “The, uh, tracking data, map data and pre-planned trajectory are all one line on the block.”

These authentic samples of communication between NASA and astronaut Dan Brandenstein on the space shuttle Columbia place us in orbit around our planet. Kate has said of “Hello Earth,” “…this is the point where she’s so weak that she relives the experience of the storm that took her in the water, almost from a view looking down on the earth up in the heavens, watching the storm start to form - the storm that eventually took her and that has put her in this situation.” Our narrator is having another out-of-body experience but this time it’s not nearby, on terra firma, but literally out of this world, and it seems to be final. She is high up above our earth, looking down, and there is a shocking sense associated with that as so few human beings have ever left our world to look back on it. There is a disconnection from what is common, known. I am reminded of The Overview Effect, the very real psychological and cognitive shift experienced by astronauts and cosmonauts—anyone who has left the planet and gone a sufficient distance to look back and perceive our planet not as a familiar home, but as a tiny, fragile ball, barely protected by a thin membrane of atmosphere. This awed feeling is described as one of ultimate compassion and understanding of the imperative to preserve and safeguard the planet.

After the NASA samples, we join our narrator floating in space like the Star Child in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” of the earth, but no longer attached to it, in fact freed from it. The tether has been cut. She is detached from her life and its meaning: there is an innocent, bemused approach as she plays a little game. She is so far from home, she can hold up one hand and block the planet from her field of vision—the earth is a toy. And we shift place, time, and point of view (as Kate so often does in her music) to our narrator driving home in a car at night, looking up at the sky, her loved one asleep on the seat beside her (a sweet, gentle, highly cinematic image, and all the more moving when we understand where our narrator currently is and the loss ahead), when she sees something bright streak across the sky. As she watches it shoot through the stars, she sings, amazed, “Just look at it go!” And what is “it?” Shooting star? Satellite? Space shuttle? A “little light?” If all time is simultaneous, has she glimpsed her own soul shooting past the planet? It is her own little light, a mind-boggling and heartbreaking idea—the cry in her voice when she sings this line indicates that she understands the meaning of this object, and its finality.

At this point, something very unexpected happens. An ethereal, arresting male choir sing a passage based on a traditional Georgian folk song from the Kakhetian region called “Tsintskaro.” It is a shocking transition, one that makes us hold our breath so as not to disturb this sudden, delicate, transcendent moment. Kate on the men’s chorus: “They really are meant to symbolize the great sense of loss, of weakness, at reaching a point where you can accept, at last, that everything can change.”

Our narrator, in full Overview Effect at this point, watches storms form and move to threaten the lives she sees below. She cries out to them in vain, all of them, the sailors, life-savers, cruisers, fishermen, anyone on or near the sea, to protect themselves. We hear in this section a few of the Irish instruments, bringing in echoes of meaning from the previous song “Jig of Life.” Here I am reminded of the idea of the Asian goddess Kuan-Yin, or the Buddhist idea of a Bodhisattva, a human who has attained ultimate awareness (Buddhahood) but motivated by compassion, refuses to leave this plane of reality for the benefit of all sentient beings. Our narrator, moved by the end of her own life, is now able to perceive the ephemeral nature of all creation. Everyone can be exposed to danger, everyone can suffer, everyone can—and will—die. This truth is universal. But she is unable to prevent or stop this truth. No one can.

She then sings a passage that is full of several meanings. She says she was there at the birth, out of the cloudburst, the head of the tempest. This could be the storm that took her, or it could be, from her newly widened perspective of awareness, the start of life itself, the start of the universe. We were all there, we are all made of the matter from a singularity—we are all star dust. The murderer of calm is this physical reality itself. All that is born must die. Entropy exists. She understands this and cries out, “J’accuse.” Hence the ultimate compassion for this tiny little blue ball.

The piece ends with whale song, sounds of radar, and a very mysterious, arcane passage spoken in German which, when translated into English, means “Deeper, deeper, somewhere in the deep there is a light.” In German, the word “tief” can also mean “profound,” and I am reminded of the Latin phrase at the beginning of the Christian Psalm 130 “De profundis clamavi ad te:” “out of the depths I cry out to you.” In the depths of sorrow, in the endless well of suffering, there is a light. Compassion is the light. ❞

via: (x)

[octuscle]

Total and life-changing solar eclipse

Michael was more than pissed off. He had been planning this April 8, 2024 for over two years. Almost all his friends from astronomy class had gone to Mazatlan, Austin or Niagara Falls. Despite all the logistical challenges, Michael wanted to see the solar eclipse at the Epi Center in Nazas. He was on the road for over 36 hours. And now his luggage with all his equipment had not arrived. And he was three and a half hours late. All he had was his special sunglasses. No telescope. No binoculars. All lost somewhere between Dublin and Mexico City… The sky was already darkening. The excursion he had signed up for was long gone somewhere in the mountains. Here, right in front of the airfield, it was full of amateurs. Idiots who didn't understand the significance of this eclipse from the Saros cycle. They probably thought it was a miracle. Michael checked Google Maps. He didn't have time to drive to the hotel first. There was no cab. But according to the satellite image, there was a large parking lot or something similar not far away. Good north-south orientation. Michael should have a good view. And hopefully it was emptier and quieter there…

He cursed the fact that he had to watch the eclipse with the naked eye. He cursed the fact that his sun cream with the sun protection factor was God knows where. His red hair shone in the sun. And he could feel himself getting sunburnt. He probably stank of sweat. The last shower had been during the stopover in Chicago. Maybe he should have flown to Toronto after all. But now he was here. And totality was getting closer and closer.

Michael had been fascinated by astronomy ever since he could read. And he had taught himself at the age of four. Michael was the epitome of a nerd. Unathletic. No friends. Assistant in the computer science department at Dublin University. And now he was standing here alone in the sweltering heat in this parking lot. His head on his back. Above him, a spectacle that rarely existed in this form. His anger evaporated. His fascination with the play of sun and moon prevailed. He no longer felt the heat. In fact, it was starting to get cooler. Cooler and cooler. And it was also slowly getting noticeably darker. Until it was as if someone had switched off the light. Michael stared open-mouthed at the sky. He was overwhelmed. The Black Sun was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. All his exertions were forgotten. The thousands of euros he had spent on the plane tickets: all a trifle for this spectacle in the sky. He put his head back even further in fascination. And he fell backwards onto the ground.

Maldita sea, Miguel thought. He must have fainted a few seconds after falling to the ground. He held the back of his head. That could be a nasty bump on the head… His sunglasses had fallen off his face… He looked at the sun with a wink. Yes, you could still see the shadow of the moon in front of the sun. And? What was so special about it? It got dark every evening. Today it was also noon. Miserable astronomy crap… Even his kunkels had all gone out to a hill outside the village… He didn't care.

His ball had rolled a few meters further. Miguel took it and practiced shooting baskets. By the time his buddies got back before that nerd thing, he was in shape. And then he would beat the losers. Like every time. Miguel was simply the basketball star of his village. And he was happy when all the strangers had finally left and things were quiet again.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

With the addition of Saturn, the James Webb Space Telescope has finally captured all four of our Solar System's giant worlds.

JWST's observations of the ringed planet, taken on 25 June 2023, have been cleaned up and processed, giving us a spectacular view of Saturn's glorious rings, shining golden in the darkness.

By contrast, the disk of Saturn is quite dark in the new image, lacking its characteristic bands of cloud, appearing a relatively featureless dim brown.

This is because of the wavelengths in which JWST sees the Universe – near- and mid-infrared.

These wavelengths of light are usually invisible to the naked human eye, but they can reveal a lot.

For example, thermal emission – associated with heat – is dominated by infrared wavelengths.

When you're trying to learn about what's going on inside a planet wrapped in thick, opaque clouds, studying its temperature is a valuable way to go about it.

Some elements and chemical processes emit infrared light, too. Seeing the planets of the Solar System in wavelengths outside the narrow range admitted by our vision can tell us a lot more about what they have going on.

Saturn

As we saw last week, when we clapped eyes on the raw JWST Saturn images, the observations involved filters that dimmed the light of the planet, while allowing light from the rings and moons to shine brightly.

This is so a team led by planetary scientist Leigh Fletcher of the University of Leicester in the UK can study the rings and moons of Saturn in more detail.

They hope to identify new ring structures and, potentially, even new moons orbiting the gas giant.

The image above shows three of Saturn's moons, Dione, Enceladus and Tethys, to the left of the planet.

Although dim, the disk of the planet also reveals information about Saturn's seasonal changes.

The northern hemisphere is reaching the end of its 7-year summer, but the polar region is dark. An unknown aerosol process could be responsible.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere around the edges of the disk appears bright, which could be the result of methane fluorescence, or the glow of trihydrogen, or both. Further analysis could tell us which.

Jupiter

Jupiter was the first of the giant planets to get the JWST treatment, with images dropping in August of last year – and boy howdy were they stunning.

The spectacular detail seen in the planet's turbulent clouds and storms was perhaps not entirely surprising.

However, we also got treated to some rarely seen features: the permanent aurorae that shimmer at Jupiter's poles, invisible in optical wavelengths, and Jupiter's tenuous rings.

We also saw two of the planet's smaller, lesser-known moons, Amalthea and Adrastea, with fuzzy blobs of distant galaxies in the background.

"This one image sums up the science of our Jupiter system program, which studies the dynamics and chemistry of Jupiter itself, its rings, and its satellite system," said astronomer Thierry Fouchet of Paris Observatory in France, who co-led the observations.

Neptune

Observations of Neptune arrived in the latter half of September 2022.

Because Neptune is so very far away, it tends to get a little neglected; you're probably used to seeing, if anything, the images taken by Voyager 2 when it flew past in 1989.

JWST's observations gave us, for the first time in more than 30 years, a new look at the ice giant's dainty rings – and the first ever in infrared.

It also revealed seven of Neptune's 14 known moons, and bright spots in its atmosphere.

Most of those are storm activity, but if you look closely, you'll see a bright band circling the planet's equator.

This had never been seen before and could be, scientists say, a signature of Neptune's global atmospheric circulation.

Uranus

Uranus is also pretty far away, but it's also a huge weirdo. Although very similar to Neptune, the two planets are slightly different hues, which is something of a mystery.

Uranus is also tipped sideways, which is challenging to explain too.

JWST's observations, released in April 2023, aren't solving these conundrums.

However, they have revealed 11 of the 13 structures of the incredible Uranian ring system and an unexplained atmospheric brightening over the planet's polar cap.

JWST has a lot to say about the early Universe; but it's opening up space science close to home, too.

As its first year of operations comes to an end, we can't help but speculate what new wonders will be to come in the years ahead.

Top: Jupiter - Neptune / Bottom: Uranus - Saturn

Credit: NASA

[sadclowncentral]

SPACE LAW that’s probably much more boring than it sounds but at least it’s called fuckin’ SPACE LAW and that’s pretty amazing in itself

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