#only reason i didn't drop this one is because

[abbotsanatomy]

heyyyyyyyyyyyyy are requests open by any chance 🥹 if yes i would love love love a chef!reader x jack and it’s a regular occurrence for her to visit and drop off food BUT but one day she comes in and she’s like i may have sliced something……. THANK YOU you’re my fave blog rn this jack hyperfixation needs to leave my body or else i’ll go crazy💋

⨳ TODAY'S SPECIAL

pairing: jack abbot x chef!reader warnings: depiction of injury and surgical procedure, intentional medical inaccuracies (for the plot :p). not beta'd! author's note: such a fun idea! so honored to be feeding the jack abbot craze

On today's dinner menu was supposed to be roasted rack of lamb, smothered in a rosemary-infused butter, with garlicky oven-baked potatoes. Key word: supposed.

Your carefully curated ritual of making dinner for Jack and bringing it to his work was interrupted by you accidentally slicing your thumb half off. It's what you get for not sharpening your knives when they needed to be sharpened, last week.

Now, you're on the way to the ER for an entirely different reason. You've got your good hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on your leg, with a towel that smells faintly of garlic wrapped around your injury. It only hurts a little, for now. You're sure that'll change when the adrenaline of it all wears off. Or at least that's what you've heard.

You're hoping you can get there and be administered some kind of pain-killer before that pain sets in. Morbidly, the rest of your thumb's in a plastic baggie, that's in another plastic baggie filled with ice, because that's what google told you to do. And in the absence of your doctor boyfriend, you listen to google.

Obviously, you use the back emergency entrance, like Jack's instructed you to do, if you ever happened to find yourself in need of actual medical assistance. You'd fought him on the principle, claiming the whole thing stinks of favoritism and some kind of medical malpractice. Now, with the pain slowly tingling up your entire arm, you can't find it in yourself to care.

The glass doors of the ER open automatically, as you walk in with a chunk of your left thumb in your right hand. You're escorted by one of the EMTs who was standing outside when you drove by. You'd seen her around a handful of times.

“Yeah, so I was making dinner for myself and my boyfriend. You know him,” you pause, as she takes the plastic bag from your hand and nods.

“It just sliced in half. It's partially my fault. I forgot to sharpen my cooking knives,” you go on, as she finds you a place to sit and calls a nurse to grab Jack.

She smiled empathetically at you, “Don't worry. We'll get you taken care of. Dr.Abbot should be here any minute. Just keep your hand elevated for me.”

Although you're about 99 percent sure the nurse walking in behind Jack already told him exactly what's going on, he still looks incredibly shocked to see you sitting there.

“Heeey,” you say, trying to wave the injured hand instinctively.

You quickly realize how bad of an idea that was, though, “Oh, ow. Ow.”

He gives you a once-over, and then quickly instructs the nurse to grab something. Presumably, hopefully, some pain meds. You realize you assumed correct, when she comes back with a few pills and a cup of water.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and swallow the pills in one go with the water.

Jack's just standing there, watching you. When you put the paper cup down onto the side table, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. It's almost like he's putting off looking at your wound, even though he probably knows it's inevitable.

“I had such a great dinner planned. You have no idea,” you boast.

It makes Jack crack a smile, as he walks over to wash his hands. He takes a seat in front of you, and then looks at the rag on your finger expectantly.

“Come on. Let's take a look,” he begins, pulling the towel off, “I heard you kept the rest of it in ice. Good thinking.”

You nod, smiling to yourself at the praise, “Mhm, I know right? Didn't even panic or anything.”

“Oh, I believe you,” he affirms, still inspecting the injury.

In that moment, John Shen pops his head into the room.

“Woah, hey. What's Gordon here in for?” he asks Jack.

The nickname makes you roll your eyes. You really don't even like Gordon Ramsay.

“Sliced my thumb. Unfortunately,” you sigh.

You can't help but ask the one question on your mind right now, “Think you can reattach it?”

“That's what I'm trying to find out, sweetheart.”

You all wait with bated breath. Chopping things up could become infinitely more difficult with half a thumb.

“Yup. Found a vein for anastomoses. We can proceed with replantation,” Jack announces.

“Perfect,” Shen adds, and then leaves the room.

You let out a long sigh, “Oh thank god! I've never been more nervous in my life, I think.”

Jack leans in to kiss the side of your face, “Yeah, I could tell. You have absolutely no confidence in me.”

“No! That's not it. Not at all. You try almost losing your thumb!” you defend.

He grins at you with a tilt of his head. Then he looks down at his prosthetic, and back up at you. His expressions reads, ‘Really?’

You grimace, “Yeah, alright. You win this one.”

Jack makes quick work out of gathering everything he needs and disinfecting your wound. He starts the reattachment process, after giving you a numbing shot that makes you feel nothing from your shoulder downward.

You don't really understand what's going on, but Jack tries to explain as he's going. Frankly, you're too busy intently watching his hands work and admiring how incredibly sexy the surgical loupes he's wearing make him look. It should be criminal for him to look that good, while reattaching your thumb.

“This, right here, might be the hottest you've ever been,” you blurt out.

It makes him pause for a moment. Not in shock, just contemplation.

“Wow. Really?” he questions, the soft curve of his brows furrowed in disbelief.

You can't help but giggle at his tone. Maybe it's the antibiotics making you a little loopy, but how he's looking at you is also incredibly funny.

“I mean, yeah,” you reason, “Sure, sex with you is great, but this might be better.”

Jack just smiles and gets back to work. Mostly because he knows it isn't true; nothing tops the sex you have together. That shit's spiritual. But also, because he doesn't fully get it. He's never understood the appeal that apparently comes with being in scrubs.

Although he's deciding to back down, you need a clean-cut victory. You want him to actually understand.

“Hey, it's totally like when you spend an hour staring at my ass while I make dinner. It's mostly just that, but it's also you appreciating my cooking and how well I do my job,” you explain. “It's attractive!”

“Yeah. Sure, I can see it,” he concedes. It's a win you'll take.

There's a long pause. Just the sounds of the surgical tools in his hands filling the space between you. He's busy taking care of your finger, obviously, but you can also tell he's pondering what you just said.

“You like taking care of people,” is all Jack comes up with. You're more than able to fill in the rest, though.

“It's what I love about you.”

He doesn't need to say it. The words are buried in his tone, in the reverence in his eyes, in the gentleness of his touch on your arm, even though he knows you can't even feel it right now.

So, you nod, and come up with one of your own, “And you are immune to panic. If I hadn't known any better, I'd say you haven't experienced a day of dread in your life.”

That earns you another smile. It takes him five minutes to come up with another thing to say.

The procedure takes much longer than you'd previously expected. Neither you nor Jack were too bothered by that. Anyone passing by with snacks or words of encouragement definitely found how you and Jack went back and forth, subtly trying to one-up each other with your compliments, incredibly cheesy.

The hours you spent in the ER recliner, with Jack hunched over your hand, meticulously gluing you back together, were a love letter to your long-lasting relationship. One you'll cherish for as long as you still have the tip of your left thumb attached to your hand.

[straows]

Are you cheating on me?

Request ✔️ @sejel

—In which, Jjk men have dupes of your lip-gloss in case you need it, but you didn't know 'til you found it.

Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna

A/n: I hope this is what you were looking for, as I got to writing I kinda forgot what the prompt rlly was... hope you enjoy though!

Groaning, you looked through your makeup bag to try and find your favorite lipgloss. You’d swear you’d bought a spare, but you cant find it. It had your brows furrowing and a your lips to pull into an angry pout.

Slipping off your heels, you marched right into the kitchen, practically turning the place upside down.

“Where the fuck is it?!” You mumbled, stressing because you’d told him you’d be ready to leave for your date by the next four minutes.

Going back into your bedroom, you looked through his bedside dresser. Only to pause when you noticed a tube of lipgloss. The same brand as yours, just one shade off.

You stared at that tube for a lot longer than four minutes. Hell you stared at it so long that your eyes got dry and you were almost squinting.

Because why the fuck, did he have this lip-gloss?

Your knuckles closed around it so tight they turned white. The possibility that he was cheating on you had your blood running hot. But you had to calm down. It could be a misunderstanding. Right? Right?

Walking into the kitchen, barefoot, no lipgloss, you leaned against the counter top, voice all sweet and doting like it usually was, except for the drips of venom that clouded your tone. “Baby, can I ask you a question real quick?”

Gojo Satoru;

Turning away from the sugar cookies he was gulping down, Gojo wiped his mouth and nodded with a smile. “Of course sweets, you’re lookin’ good. No gloss today?”

He looked your figure over appreciatively, oblivious to the grave mistakes he’d made.

“Well, I just wanted to ask you,” A sardonic smile on your lips, you put the gloss on the counter top, that smile dropping with a glare, “what the fuck is this doing in your drawer?”

“Huh?” Gojo just looked at you stupidly. So confused as to why his woman was getting angry over a tube of gloss he’d bought for her in case she needed it, but also absolutely turned on with how your talking to him.

“This isn’t even my shade, so don’t you play stupid with me, Gojo.” Your nose wrinkled slightly as your lip curled in anger. “Who’s is this? Was she in our house? Why the fuck is she using the same brand as me?”

Gojo felt a shiver go down his spine at how you said his name, and quickly he moved forward to do damage control. “What do you mean wrong shade? Baby that’s your shade. I’d bought it for you in case the one you had ran out.”

You paused, before quickly pulling out your phone to look at your shared bank account, and surely enough there was the charge from Ulta for the gloss.

“Oh.”

“Did you think I was cheating on you? Really baby?” Gojo would be upset, if he didn’t love how embarrassed you were. Taking slow but big steps towards you, his hands found your hips and pulled you in close. “How could you think id cheat on you?”

“I- well- it just- it’s not my shade and it’s in your drawer and I just- I’m so sorry, Toru.” Groaning, your head dropped to his chest, hands resting on his forearm.

“It’s alright… but I think you should make it up to me.” Gojo grinned against your cheek, pressing a few kisses here and there before biting down teasingly under your jaw.

“…but the date—“

“Fuck the date, I gotta remind you how much I love you.” Picking you up easily by the underside of your thighs, Gojo easily carried you back to your shared bedroom.

The tube of lip-gloss left on the counter alone.

Nanami Kento;

“Yes honey?” Kento didn’t turn to look at you, and was looking the reflection of the microwave. He’d been struggling with his tie for the past five minutes, and usually he had it down pat but today was not his day. “Can you help me with this real quick, I seem to be struggling for whatever reason today.”

Feeling your resolve crack, you just cleared your throat. “Kento.”

Pausing, he finally turned around only to find your very serious expression. One that was hardly ever sees you with. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Why was this lipgloss in your drawer?” You had to keep your voice stern because the way he was looking at you like you were crazy almost made you want to crumble and laugh.

“You don’t remember?” Kento walked up to the counter, and picked up the gloss, “you’d asked a few weeks ago if I had any idea where your gloss went, and I didn’t, so I went and ordered you one. I apologize if this isn’t the right shade, but it’s the one I ordered for you.”

Your mouth was left opened for a moment before you closed it and nodded. “I knew that, I was just um… testing you.” Cheeks red in embarrassment, you quickly grabbed the gloss and tried to walk away, however a hand on your wrist had you turning around and landing into Kento’s chest.

“Did you think I was cheating on you?” Kento’s voice was low and quiet, his eyes locked with yours as he held you.

“…no…” Looking away, a pout on your lips.

“Honey,” Kento gently tilted your head back towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “I have absolutely no time to juggle you and another woman. You simply take up all space in my mind.”

You smiled sweetly up at him, before tilting your head, “did you just call me fat?”

“Huh?”

“I’m kidding. I love you, thank you. ‘M sorry for jumping to conclusions.” Getting on your tip toes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek before helping him with his tie.

Sukuna Ryomen;

Sukuna just stared at you, brows furrowed as he looked you over. First, appreciating your appearance, secondly, confused on what the fuck you’re talking about.

“Why are you showing me some tube?” Crossing his arms, his arms flexing as he did.

“Why was this lipgloss in your drawer?” You huffed, brows furrowed and voice demanding.

“Woman, you have the memory of the peanut.” Sukuna groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“So you are cheating!” You pointed, eyes wide as if you’d been suspecting it for days it’s been 8 minutes.

“Cheating on you? I’ve killed all the concubines. All of the servants are over the age of 45, and you are constantly near me.” Sukuna leaned against the counter, his face inches from yours. “Are you sure in this accusation or do you just want to punished?”

Blinking once, twice, thrice, you paused. “Hey I never said that—“

“Too late.” Wrapping an arm around you, Sukuna easily lifted you by your hips. Holding you like a dog that just caught trying to run off.

“No! Wait— I’m still sore!” Whining, you try to bite at his arms but he just grins.

“You know I like it when you bite, you must be eager. Not to worry woman, I will satiate you.” That shit eating grin on his mouth and his stomach mouth.

“Can I at least ride you?”

“No.”

“PLEASSEEEEE”

“Keep talking, it will only elongate the inevitable.”

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: faded

authors note: this is part two of the 'can you stand the rain' mini series within dreamland. make sure you've read 'the rough patch' before reading this one.

keep in mind the characterization, history, past struggles and other things while reading.

warnings: angst and violence

words: 6k

song inspo/rec listening: faded (acoustic version) by sara farell

Solana knew the minute she laid eyes on her that she would be an issue. Young, pretty, curvy, a charismatic smile that could sway even the hardest of the hard. A far cry from Alicia, also pretty and charismatic, but in a less….dangerous way. Her retirement and stepping down to move closer to her parents that were getting up in age came at no surprise. Solana sensed it coming in the past few months, though selfishly, she hoped Alicia would stick around just a little longer. So did the kids.

Her oldest set of children often referred to Roman’s long time receptionist as “Aunt Alicia.” She’s been missed, for sure, but by none more than Solana. Because if Alicia was still here, she wouldn’t be here. 

Celeste. 

Celeste Davenport.

Solana hasn’t a clue where she came from or just how she landed the job as Alicia’s replacement, just that from the day Solana Reigns walked into Bloodline Headquarters to surprise her husband for lunch, she knew there was something about the woman that she didn’t like.

Didn’t trust.

—------

Especially when Solana walked towards her husband’s office only for the twenty something to stand up and clear her throat. 

“I’m sorry, Solana.” Her voice was sugary sweet, the “kindest” smile on her pretty face. “Mr. Reigns is preparing for a meeting right now.” The lack of being properly addressed didn’t bother her as much as the overall overstepping. “I’ll have to take a message.”

Solana just looked at her, taken back by a lot of things, somewhat disturbed by how pretty and young this girl was. For reasons she didn’t understand. Not at that point, at least.

Solana cleared her throat and tightened her grip on her Birkin. “You’re the new receptionist, right?”

She nodded, pushing her jet black hair over her shoulder, providing a glimpse of the tattooed heart on her shoulder. “Celeste. Celeste Davenport.”

Normally, Solana would say something polite, something friendly and aligned with her character, but again, there was something about the woman that she couldn’t shake. “Well, Celeste, I know you’re still new here, but—”

“Ehhh,” she interrupted, shrugging casually. “Been here about a month now, so not too new.”

Solana’s smile was even as she calmly countered, lifting up her hand to show off her wedding. “I’ve got a little bit of time on you.” It didn't miss her how something flashed in Celeste’s eyes but was quickly pushed away.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” she complimented. It felt inauthentic, though. Forced, almost.

Solana didn't bother with a thank you. “You should know that when I and/or our children come to see Roman, we don’t wait.” She kept her voice and gaze even. “I don’t wait.”

The same way Solana didn’t wait for a response as she continued her trajectory over to the double doors that lead to his office, doors she placed two quiet knocks to, followed by his deep voice barking from the other side, “what?”

A small smile on her face, Solana didn't spare Celeste a glance before welcoming herself into her space with her husband. 

A husband who didn't waste any time meeting her halfway across his office, pulling her body into his and kissing her like he didn’t just see her a few hours earlier as they got the kids ready for school.

“What are you doing here?” His deep voice rumbled, hands moving to her ass, squeezing her cheeks through her fitted scrubs. 

She smiled, stroking his beard. “Figured I’d come drop in and see you before I start my shift.” It was a long one, hence her making double portions the night prior, as she’d likely be late for dinner or miss it altogether, hence him needing to handle early evening duties. “And make sure you don’t forget—”

“I gotta pick the kids up.”

“Except—”

“Lina, Leya, and Tama later because they have practice,” he finished for her, making her smile grow as his hand shifted to the small of her back. “I know, baby. I got this.”

She didn't doubt it, but she also couldn't help but to point out, “see, the family calendar is helpful.” Solana giggled, seeing the way his face instantly shifted into a scowl. 

“It’s still annoying,” he mumbled, prompting her to roll her eyes. With so many kids, several of which who were in extracurricular activities, it was pertinent that they kept a calendar to track everything. Multiple, in this instance. Hence, along with the large dry erase boards on the wall near the kitchen laying out weekly schedules, Solana started to implement digital calendars as well. She found a neat app that she put on all the kids phones, Roman’s as well, to help keep them all just a tad bit more organized.

Of course, her technologically challenged husband grumbled and struggled the most with it, needing tutorials from Koa and Kai, as well as herself, before learning how to properly use it. And, now that he got it, it seemed like it was working well. 

At least that was working.

“So….” She trialed off, hands moving up and down his chest. “The new receptionist.”

His scowl deepened. “Who?” Solana rolled her eyes as it hit him. “Oh, the new girl. Cindy.”

“Celeste,” she corrected.

“Does it matter?” She wasn't sure she’d ever seen him look so disinterested and disconnected. It comforted her in a strange sort of way. “What about her? She’s no Alicia. I know that.”

That sparked Solana's interest. “How so?”

And, with the biggest expression of disgust, he answered with a straight face, “she talks.”

Solana sighed, a small smile breaking on her face as she buried herself into his chest, once more, comforted. “You’re impossible.” He said nothing, just holding her, Solana speaking from the heart more than anything. “Just….be careful with her.”

At that, Roman pulled back to look down at her, expression speculative. “What do you mean?”

Solana considered how to word it, not wanting to offend or upset him, just truly speaking from a place of looking out for him. “She’s young and pretty—”

“Solana, you know I would never—”

“I know, I know.” She did. She really, truly did. “But, that doesn’t mean she won’t.” Because Solana knows people, knows that true intentions can often be hidden, cloaked behind a pretty, white smile. “Just…be careful.”

It wouldn’t be the first time she had to warn him.

Later that day, Solana walked into work feeling a little better, though that was a given. Being around her coworkers, being able to interact with patients, just being in her element like that, always helped in one way or another.

Walking into the staff lounge in the back of the pediatrics office, Solana found herself naturally smiling at seeing someone already present. “Hi, Dr. Garcia.”

Robert Garcia lifted his eyes from the phone in his hand, a smile falling on his face as well. “Nurse Reigns.” He hits the side button, sliding the iPhone in his back pocket. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

“Bit of a last minute thing,” she answers, walking past him to the refrigerator to set her pink Stanley covered in stickers, courtesy of her middle and youngest daughters, on the top shelf. “I thought you were at Main today?”

Dr. Garcia is on the newer side, having recently moved to the area from down South, currently operating out of both of the city’s major hospitals, Main and Central.

He gives a lazy shrug and half-hearted smile. “Bit of a last minute thing.”

Solana chuckles, “I get it.” She grabs one of the energy bars from the stack of them located on the counter when she notices his expression shift just so slightly. “Everything alright?”

He looks at her, shaking his head, smiling almost shyly now. “Would you judge me if I asked you the craziest question in the world?”

Solana smiles warmly. “I have seven children, Dr. Garcia. I’m sure your question can’t be any crazier than what I hear during family dinner.” 

He chuckles. “Fair enough.” Robert leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. “What perfume do you wear?” Solana’s face gives away the surprise she wasn’t expecting to experience, forcing him to put up his arms in a defensive manner. “Crazy, I know, but my wife’s birthday is coming up, and I’ve been wrecking my brain trying to figure out what to get her, and every time I’m around you, I can’t help but notice how amazing you smell.”

Solana’s smile falters just a bit as she focuses more on the initial question rather than the explanation. “Thank you, umm—” Shaking her head, she closes her eyes and tries to retrieve the answer. “Oh my gosh, what is it called?” A question posed to herself rather than him. “And, my daughter was just asking me this morning if she could borrow it, too.” Samaria. It was Samaria, but Solana thought it a bit too grown for her, instead letting her use her Mon Paris one instead. “Baccarat something? I’m sorry, my husband got it for me—”

“Baccarat Rouge 540?” 

“Yes, that!” Solana claps from instant recognition. “I don’t think I would have guessed that.”

He, too, chuckles. “That’s quite alright.” Making a face, he nods to himself. “Maison Francis Kurkdjian, huh? Your husband has nice taste.” His eyes flit to hers. “But, that should be pretty obvious though, I suppose, no?”

At that, Solana’s smile drops a bit. Unsure. She’s unsure of how to take that. What to make of it. A genuine compliment or…something else.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have much time to think—overthink it—a knock on the door from one of her coworkers, Kim, pulling her from the conversation that felt like it’d taken a turn. 

“Patient in room 3 is asking for you, girl.” She shares, blue eyes sparkling with humor. “Sanchez kid. Wants to show you all the cool signatures he got on his cast.”

At that, the mother of seven smile returns. “Of course, he does.” An adorable little boy who reminds her a lot of Tama when he was younger. Solana offers the doctor a small smile, before walking out with her coworker, eager to start her day, strange starts aside. 

—------

The second warning came not even a month later. 

Another surprise visit at his office, this time with her girls as Solana was taking them out for a salon visit so they could all get mani-pedis. The elevator doors dinged open right as Samaria sent her mom the link for the latest purse she wanted. Something also sent to Roman, of that, Solana was certain.

Aroha was out the doors as soon as there was space for her to dart, dressed in her Tinkerbell costume, the latest to her growing collection. “Daddy!” She said prematurely, yet happily, clutching her bunny from Build-A-Bear she’d affectionately named after herself. Roro.

Samaria talking about the Marc Jacobs bag, Lina and Leya chatting among themselves as the rest of the Reigns girls’ exited the elevator, up until an interruption.

“Well, hello there,” Celeste greeted, standing up. Solana took in her bodycon dress and low neckline. A bit too low to be considered business professional, in Solana’s opinion. However, as Celeste was also top heavy, it wasn't hard for the wife of the Tribal Chief to be understanding of the dilemma that often came with finding outfits that didn't show off at least some skin. “You must be Roro.”

Aroha looked up at her, clutching her teddy bear, saying nothing. A strange reaction for her social-butterfly of a daughter.

Catalina, however, moved to stand behind her little sister, eyeing Celeste up and down. “Only some of us can call her Roro. You can call her Aroha.” There was no mistaking the skepticism—and dislike—in both Lina’s voice and expression, borderline glare. “And, just who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Lina,” both Solana and Leya scolded at the same time, though Solana could acknowledge not as much irritation with her daughter’s language as she would typically have from such an interaction. Not with that situation.

Celeste didn't break from her smile, introducing, “Celeste. I’m your dad’s new receptionist.”

Aroha’s response was quick and to the point as she hugged her stuffed animal to her chest. “I like Alicia better.”

“Same,” Lina agreed, crossing her arms over her chest, continuing to look Celeste up and down. “And, you work for the Bloodline, not my dad.”

“Girls, that’s enough,” Solana scolded. She and Roman had always taught their children to be honest, but that could be attained without being disrespectful, and right then and there, the conversation had easily drifted into the disrespectful category. She cleared her throat, offering Celeste a contrite smile that didn't really meet the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m Leya,” Cataleya introduced herself with a small wave, Aria already by Roman’s double doors, knocking, too busy to do the same. 

Not that she would. 

Even Leya’s introduction felt….off, for her little girl.

It was clear Solana wasn't not the only one not feeling Roman’s new receptionist. 

A comforting thing…but also not. 

Solana sat more on the quiet side of things, as she let her daughters bombard Roman with a variety of things. Lina asking Roman if he’d work out with her and Tama that weekend. Samaria sending him yet another link for the latest purse she wanted. Roro asking for a pet guinea pig. Leya simply asking for his opinion on an art project she’d been working on.

She left them alone, allowing them that time to bond until before she realized it, he’d sent them out and on their merry way to wait in the car.

“You wanna tell me what’s bothering you?” Roman asked, standing in front of her, hand on her back, the other behind her neck. 

Solana opened her mouth, prepared to dismiss his concern, because she knew he worried about her. Didn't like seeing her upset or bothered, and she hated that it was even impacting her that much.

“It’s silly.”

“Baby, we’ve been over this too many times,” he sighed. “If it’s impacting you, it’s not silly.”

Similar words that they told their kids all the time. She just hated having to still be on the receiving end at her big age. Especially after so many years together. 

“I just…” She trailed off, a frown falling on her pretty face as his thumb gently brushed across the nape of her neck. “There’s something about that girl, Roman.”

He also frowned. “Who?”

“Celeste,” she answered. Solana shook her head, taking a deep breath. “I don’t like her.”

“The receptionist?” He asked, looking genuinely confused, same as he did the last time she brought her up, which made her feel silly all over again. It was so obvious her husband was paying this woman no mind, so why was she? “She say something to you?”

“No.” Not really. “It’s….I don’t know. I just don’t like her.” 

Roman just looked down at her, reading between the lines. “What are you really worried about, Solana?”

A good, solid question. Fair, too. She swallowed. “I trust you, Roman.” With her life. “You know I do.”

He shifted his hand to her cheek. “Then you should know I barely interact with that damn girl. I don’t even know her name half the time, and I don’t care to know, because I don’t care about her.” He spoke truthfully, from the heart, brutally honest. The way he’d always been. It’d been a consistent thing with him since they married all those years again. Roman’s thumb brushed against her skin, ghosting over her scar. “I only see you, Sol….alright?”

He dipped his head just enough for their lips to meet, a soft kiss, a promise of sorts. She nodded quietly, letting him hold her, the act washing away her concerns.

Or, so she thought. 

—-----

Solana wanted to leave it at that. 

She planned to leave it that.

Planned to just trust that Roman could handle if and when something became an issue. 

She planned to trust her husband. 

There was nothing to be concerned about. Roman’s new receptionist being….off didn’t mean anything if her husband had no intentions on biting. For years, he always told her that he only saw her, and seven kids later, she had no reason to doubt that. 

Not at first, at least.

It started with longer days. They happened every so often, but Roman always did his best to keep them far and few in between. That started to shift, her needing to either leave work a little early to pick up the kids from school and/or practice. Or, arrange to have someone else do it, because Roman wouldn’t be home until late.

He’d make it for a portion of dinner some days. Others, she and the kids would be cleaning the kitchen, his plate cold in the microwave by the time he walked in the door.

Then, the time they actually spoke to each other seemed to be cut shorter and shorter. Mostly conversation in passing as they transported their children to and from with all their extracurricular activities. 

Then, there were other times, honest times of miscommunication or misunderstandings that caused some issues. Issues that weren’t handled in the best way. 

Tense exchanges that escalated into arguments. Unfamiliar territory. Solana hardly ever argued with her husband, but she had the past few weeks, and there was no sign of things sizzling out. If anything, the fire continued to spread, leaking over into a particularly nasty one that resulted in her emotionally disclosing something she’d been sitting on.

Not from wanting to keep it a secret from him, per se, but from her not knowing how to process, yet alone share, potentially life changing—and shattering—news. 

A spillage that she regretted exposing the way she did. Something like that…it called for a sit-down. A deep, honest, hard conversation between husband and wife as they worked together to figure out if and how they should tell the kids. 

Solana regretted it. Not just that. But, the argument as a whole. 

It stuck with her. So much so that the next day, while on the way to work, she stopped at her husband’s office. Needed to see him. Needed to apologize and ask if they could set aside time to sit down and talk. No arguing. No bickering. No snide remarks. Just clear, open, honest communication. Be the way they used to be, because truth be told, Solana just missed her husband.

And, she needed him. 

Maybe now more than ever. 

All of which she was prepared to say and was going to say, too caught up in her head to notice the strange absence of Celeste at the desk. 

But, there’s not enough being in her head to save her from the influx of emotions that course through her the minute she opens the double doors and is met with an unforgettable sight. Something that will forever be stamped into her head and tattooed onto her brain.

A deeply scowling Roman is in the midst of shoving off Celeste who was clearly straddling his lap, her dress is hiked up to her mid thigh, exposing a portion of her exposed ass. 

It’s been years since Solana has felt like this, felt like she’s been plucked out of time and placed above it, hovering, watching with horror as life and reality unfold before her. Like an outer body experience. It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real.

But, the minute Roman’s equally horrified gaze lands on her, Celeste’s wide, nervous eyes glued to her, she knows. Knows that this is very real. 

And, it’s heartbreaking. 

Still struggling come to grips with what she just walked in on, Solana finds herself quietly closing the doors behind her. Her focus is on the ground, refusing to land on them, yet using that as a guide as she slowly makes her way over to them.

A bit of an automatic thing, as she’s still very much too overcome with any and all the emotions to really process what she’s doing. Not until she realizes Roman is calling her name and also reaching for her. Reaching for her because she’s no longer standing. She’s now the one straddling someone, Celeste, her fists raining down on top of the younger woman who cries out in pain, forearms covering her face. 

“Baby, stop!” His deep voice enters her hemisphere, further angering her, as she forces Celeste’s forearms out of the way, twisting her arm, trying to break it. 

“You disgusting whore!” It sounds and almost feels like someone else. Someone not herself, but it is her. Solana. And, she’s livid. “I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Anger mixes with something else, as Roman lifts her off Celeste who scrambles to run out, Solana managing a final kick to her ass before Roman has her completely restrained, allowing the other woman to flee.

The door slamming shut behind her disgraced trail signals something for Solana. Signals the most uncomfortable, awful, horrific thing she could have never conceived could happen.

He cheated on her.

Roman cheated on her.

He fucking cheated.

The rage rises once more with a new target. 

Her husband.

“Get the hell off of me!” She shouts, fists angrily slamming against his forearm as he continues to hold her. “Let me go, Roman!”

“Solana, please—”

“I said get the fuck off me!” Her voice is livid and icy, her elbow moving into his chest, a sharp intake of breath allowing her that space to escape. She breaks apart from him, moving to the opposite side of the room. Distance. She needs the distance. His office suddenly feeling much smaller than it’s ever felt before. Too small. Claustrophobic. She can’t can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t exist. 

“Oh my God,” she gasps, hands to her face, feeling wetness. Tears. She’s crying. “I can’t—”

“Solana.” Roman’s voice is surface level steady but underneath that is a sea of turmoil that’s evident in his weary gaze as he looks at her, keeping a distance but also never taking his eyes off her. “It’s not—”

“You—I told you—I told you—” She can barely get her words out, Solana crying into her hands, unable to console herself in the moment. It’s just all too much. 

“Sol—”

“What the hell, Roman?” Words finally find her. So many. All of them. Every single last one. None of them, kind or pretty, or anything she’s used to with the man who’s supposed to be her husband. Right about now, he feels like anything but. “I tell you that I may have breast cancer, and you go and do this?” Her voice breaks, as she closes her eyes, unable to stand the sight of him looking at her. Desperate and almost pleading.

Pathetic.

It’s pathetic. 

He is pathetic.

His voice is bolder, firmer, filled with a conviction that feels nothing but inauthentic. “Solana, I didn’t—”

“I saw you!”

Her eyes didn’t betray her. No, the sight she walked in on was unmistakable, and him trying to shove that little girl off his lap doesn’t make a goddamn difference to her. Not one. Because, it was saving face. It was being caught in the act and trying to make it less a betrayal than what it is.

But, that’s exactly what it is. 

A betrayal from the very person she would have sworn on her life would never.

But, he has, and it’s crushing.

“I can’t—I need—” Stammering accompanied by her heading for the door. She can’t breathe.

“Solana, please—” His long legs have him right behind her, hot on her heels, evoking an instinctual turn and shove of him away. 

“Don’t,” she hisses, voice cutting into him, deeper than even the sharpest of knives. Her eyes shutting as she keeps her hands raised, another sign of the burning desire to have him as far away as possible. It prevents her from seeing the way he swallows, an attempt to keep building emotions at bay. “Just….don’t.”

He doesn’t try to interfere or stop her, just allows her to walk out, the departure feeling different than any other time. Because, it is. Because, in that moment, too swallowed and overwhelmed emotions, she’s not entirely sure just what she’s walking away from. 

—-----

She should have called out.

Solana knows this the moment she arrives at work and after emptying her items into her locker, navigating to the staff lounge to refrigerate her water, the door barely shut before she breaks down in tears. 

Heavy, heartfelt sobs, the shock wearing thin and settling into a sort of pain that has her chest tight, her stomach in all sorts of knots, and her heart aching. A physical, undeniable hurt.

Placing her cup on the counter, Solana moves her hand to her chest, trying to settle herself. She can’t remember the last time she had a panic attack, but one is loading and pending.

Roman cheating on her is just something she could have never anticipated, never expected. Not even in the worst of her nightmares. But, the more she thinks about it, the more she starts to put the pieces together.

The late nights, change and lack in communication, the arguing. The lack of physical intimacy. The dismissal of her concerns about her. 

For each connection and realization, she’s hit with more questions. Just how long has it been going on? Weeks? Months? Is that how she got the job?

Because she’s his mistress?

Just the thought has Solana feeling nauseous. Sick, she feels sick to her stomach.

Solana wants nothing more than to tell herself this is nothing but a misunderstanding. Part 2 of the situation that led her to finding out about Fetu so many years prior. But, that was different. Roman had done nothing to make her believe he was being unfaithful. The conversation wasn’t even suggestive, just misleading.

This though….this is different.

His behavior has been different, and it all lines up. The sight she walked in being the final piece to the gut-wrenching puzzle. 

And, what kills her maybe more than the actual cheating, is the fact that it hasn’t even been 24 hours since she told him about the results of her mammogram, something that has her terrified of what those follow-up tests could come back with, and he does….that?

Broken.

She feels broken.

Solana is too caught up in her racing thoughts and broken heart to pay attention to the entrance and sound of footsteps. “Solana?” A sharp gasp as she looks up to see Dr. Garcia looking at her, face full of concern. “What’s going on? What happened?”

She shakes her head, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just—I need a minute.”

“Are you hurt?” His professional instinct kicking in, clearly, as he moves closer, doing a one over. “Did–did something happen?”

Yes. Everything. Everything happened, but she’s not prepared or even wanting to disclose that, any of it, to her boss, of all people. 

“Please.” She sniffles. “I’m fine. I just—I just need to be alone.”

He shakes his head, lips pressed together. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. What kind of doctor would I be to leave the best nurse I’ve ever had alone when she’s clearly upset?” Solana looks at him, unsure as to why another feeling is building in her stomach. Discomfort. 

It’s discomfort. 

She’s certain she must look a mess, having been crying since she walked into that devastating scene. But, her wishes not being respected in this moment isn’t helping. It’s only making things worse.

“Was…was it your husband?” At that, her eyes widen. 

Did he really just…

Solana swallows, clearing her throat. “That...that’s none of your business.”

“It was,” he surmises. Another assertion that only further upsets her. “Well, whatever he did, know it’s because he’s an idiot.”

And, the hits keep coming, each jarring statement chipping away at her hurt and building up her anger. “Ex—excuse me?”

Dr. Garcia takes a step closer, prompting Solana to straighten, realizing her back is already pressed against the counter. “If you were my wife, Solana, I’d make sure to never cause any tears to stream down that beautiful face.” His gaze drops to her chest, burning dark. “Not for any bad reasons, at least.”

What the hell?

Solana feels like she’s in some sort of twilight zone. She’d been right with her instincts about Celeste, but how had she not picked up the same with the man she worked for?

The compliments. The smiles. The questions that teetered the lines of professional and personal. How had she caught that but missed this?

So many questions racing that it doesn’t dawn on her he’s closed the gap between them until he has her boxed in, his hot breath fanning her face.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Solana,” he breathes, Solana’s panic setting in when she realizes how close he is. Too close. And his hand reaching for her hip is confirmation of just that. “I could—”

Two things happen at that exact moment. Solana prepares to not only push this man, but punch the living shit out of him accompanied with her knee ramming into his crotch, because this is beyond a boundary being violated.

It’s harassment. 

Sexual harassment. 

But, she doesn’t get the chance to, she doesn’t get the chance because Robert is snatched away from her with a level of aggression she’s only ever seen in one person.

Roman.

The same man who has Robert by the back of his coat, the last thing she sees of her husband being his almost feral expression before he slams the man down onto the ground, jumping on top of him.

It’s all so fast. Too fast, because it takes a good minute for her to recognize what’s happening. To realize her husband is beating the living shit out of Dr. Garcia, clearly blinded by unbridled fury. 

She’d like to say that the horror of seeing Roman viciously assault her technical boss was more than enough reason to get her to try to get him off, but it isn't. There’s a delay in her response. Emotion overload? A small part of her believing Robert deserving? She’s not sure. She just knows it takes a minute—or two—for her to say something, and it’s mostly due to the blood she sees starting to imbue itself on Robert’s lab coat.

And Roman’s fist.

“Stop!” She yells, moving over to the men, wincing when she realizes Robert’s face is also caked in blood, his eyes practically swollen shut. “Roman, get off of him!”

It’s like talking to a brick wall, her words in one ear and out the other. A part of her wants to leave it alone. Even saying his name feels off. Wrong, almost. But, she also knows that it’s only a matter of time before people overhear the commotion and call for hospital security. Then, it’s really bound to get ugly, and she can’t have that.

She also recognizes that the longer Roman continues to beat on this man, the higher the likelihood he’ll end up doing something he’ll regret later.

Maybe.

“Roman, you’re going to kill him!” Her shouts seem to be sounded out with every heavy, destructive blow of her husband’s fist onto Robert's face. 

“Good,” is all he responds with, completely immersed and controlled by his rage. He only sees red, and that single word is all she needs to hear to know that he has no plans on letting up or letting go.

Not until he’s completed a newfound task.

To kill the man he’s about halfway through beating to death. 

Solana moves quickly, recognizing verbalizations aren’t about to prevent a murder from being committed in front of her.

“Roman, that’s enough!” She hisses, going against her better judgment, her wants, and grabbing him by his shoulders. It’s at that touch, touch that also feels wrong, the same type of wrong she feels at even having said his name, that penetrates the armor of rage. Big, heaving shoulders, mouth slightly parted, heavy breaths falling out, eyes partially crazed, partially aware, he's finally looking at her.

But, she can’t sustain the eye contact too long, can’t bear it. She just uses the advantage to steer him off of a now unconscious Robert. Roman backs away, Solana ignoring his burning gaze on her as she crouches down to check for Robert’s pulse.

To make sure there still is one.

“What the fuck was that, Solana?”

It’s the last—and worst—thing for her to hear. Relieved that Robert is still among the living—for now—she stands up, turning around to look at Roman who seems 100% unbothered by his actions and 100% focused on, in his mind, what triggered said actions.

“Excuse me?” She whispers, hoping and praying he’s not asking what she thinks he’s asking. What she deep down knows he’s asking. 

But, he is. He absolutely is. Roman angrily gestures to the man behind her. “What the hell were you doing with him?”

Her eyes shut.

Of course.

Of course.

Solana licks her lips, doing her best to remain calm when she feels anything but. “Are…are you seriously going to stand there and ask me that?”

He also briefly closes his eyes, voice tinged with irritation and something else. Hurt. He sounds hurt. “Nothing happened, Solana. That’s what you don’t seem to unders—”

“Nothing happened?” She interrupts, scoffing, those damn emotions returning for another round. “You’re gonna stand here and tell me nothing happened when I literally saw you with a whole ass woman, dress pulled up, on your lap, and I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“No.” His voice is much lower than she would like, his eyes too soft, his expression too defeated. “You’re supposed to trust me.”

She nods, looking away at the open window of the lounge. “The same way you’re supposed to trust me?”

Silence.

A heavy, devastating silence that’s complicated by a crushing realization that this scene is far too similar. Familiar. History repeating itself. 

She remembers the question she posed to him so many years ago. The last time they ever encountered something as serious and damaging as this.

“What kind of marriage can we have if you don’t trust me?”

A question she now has to pose to herself as well.

What kind of marriage can we have if I don’t trust him?

It’s a thought that nearly crushes her. Does, in some ways. The tears return, her voice breaking and paving way for her pain. “Roman, we can’t….we can’t keep doing this.”

Standing before her, he’s never looked so…so lost. “What do you mean?”

“The fighting, the arguing, the…trust—” That feels all but gone at this point. Maybe on both sides. “I—I want us to—to get through the boys’ birthdays next month—”

“Baby—”

“Because it’s not fair to them—”

“What are you saying—”

“Maybe even Lina and Leya’s quinceaneras—”

“Solana.” Desperate. He is desperate in this moment, vulnerable gaze focused on her. “What are you saying?”

It’s a good, valid question. What is she saying? Solana doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what the follow-up of her mammogram results will bring. Doesn’t know how she managed to miss all the signs that her husband was being unfaithful. Doesn’t know she missed the signs that Dr. Garcia was attracted to and flirting with her. Doesn’t know just how she can manage this, all of this, and try to pretend like everything is alright up until the passing of two, or maybe four, of her seven kids upcoming birthdays. 

It’s all so confusing, and she knows nothing except, right now, in this moment, she answers as best she can. What she feels is best. Even if saying it breaks her heart in a way she never thought possible. 

“I think we need to separate for a while...”

------

so....whose side ya'll on?

we'll see more of the kids' reaction to certain things in part 3, little do you know.

[prequelappreciation]

I've been meaning to write a post about this for ages but y'all beat me to it lol so I'm just gonna post what I had saved in drafts (bear in mind, this was written right after The Acolyte ended and without any knowledge of the quotes you just provided):

I think we as Star Wars fans need to get together as a collective and have a serious conversation about Darth Plagueis just to get a solid grasp on who he is, what he is, whether or not he actually existed in universe, and whether the story Palpatine tells Anakin is 100% factual because I think huge part of the reason people are having such massive issues with The Acolyte is because they have it in their heads that so much of Darth Plagueis supposed story is canon when in reality... it isn't and it never has been. Yes, yes, I'm aware that there is a Plagueis book but that was never and still is not official canon. A challenging aspect about being a Star Wars fan is there is canon and then there is a bunch of extra shit that people sort of pick and choose from but a lot of the Darth Plagueis stuff has just been accepted as canon by so many fans...

It only recently occurred to me because of the reaction to certain story beats in The Acolyte that a lot of people take the story Palpatine tells Anakin about Plagueis in ROTS very, very literally. Personally, I've always interpreted the story to be a loose version of the truth. I mean, come on, Palpatine is famously an extremely manipulative villain. Why in the fuck would he tell Anakin the whole truth if he's fully manipulating Anakin onto his side?? He literally tells Anakin, "It's a Sith legend," so it's entirely plausible that the story was never meant to be taken at face value by the audience and was meant to be viewed as something more akin to a legend like King Arthur or Robin Hood; a story that has possibly been passed down for centuries and maybe it happened, maybe it didn't. Maybe Plagueis existed, maybe he didn't. Maybe he found out how to create life and cheat death, maybe he didn't, maybe the answer is somewhere in between. Anakin obviously takes it at face value because he's so desperately looking for an answer to his nightmares but Palpatine is an unreliable narrator and could even be manipulating details of a true story in order to sway Anakin's thinking towards his side.

Not to mention, Palpatine contradicts himself in the film. When it's revealed to Anakin that Palptine is Darth Sidious, Palpatine implies he knows the Dark Side power that could save Padme but once Anakin fully turns over to the Dark Side, Palpatine says, "To cheat death is a power only one has achieved but if we work together, I know we can discover the secret," which heavily implies that actually, Palpatine has absolutely no idea how to save people from dying. Yes, you could argue this is a script flub but I don't think it was, I think it shows that Palpatine fully manipulated Anakin into believing there was a potential power that could cheat death when, in reality...there isn't.

Also, hate to break it to everyone but there is nothing in the Plagueis legend that remotely implies that Palpatine was Plagueis's apprentice, let alone even knew him personally aside from how you choose to interpret Ian McDiarmid's performance which, on the one hand, could be him reminiscing on his own past but could also just be him being fascinated with the story. Again, yes, yes, I know there's a book where Palpatine is his apprentice and has it where he was alive during the events of The Phantom Menace but again, that book is not and has never been considered official canon. Darth Plagueis got named-dropped once in six movies in an extremely effective lore-drop scene and everyone built up this entire story around it that most people seem to think is canon: Plagueis figured out how to use the midichlorians to create life, therefore, he created Anakin Skywalker which would explain why his mother claims he had no father, and Palpatine was the apprentice who learned everything from him and proceeded to kill him in his sleep even though none of that has ever been canonically verified or set in stone in any way.

I didn't like The Acolyte for my own reasons and I do kind of hate Disney Lucasfilm for touching Plagueis with a ten foot pole but disliking the show because it's interpreting a story that was always meant to be a literal legend is lowkey wild.

(Thanks for those quotes, I'll take those into my interpretation).

I'm going to climb up on a new hill to die on: I THINK PALPATINE'S PLAGUEIS STORY IS 100% MADE UP BULLSHIT. If you discount supplementary material created by other authors, the only thing we know about Plagueis is that speech Palpatine gives at the bubble opera, one we already know is designed to manipulate Anakin, but watching Revenge of the Sith in the theater again, thinking about how Anakin will later parrot Palpatine's words exactly--I realized, oh, it's not just a story being used to manipulate Anakin, I think it's a story created to manipulate Anakin, right where Palpatine wants him. It's a story about a Sith lord who learns how to make people stop dying. A Sith Lord who wants to stop his loved ones from dying. We know Palpatine doesn't actually know how to do this--the movie seems to imply that Palpatine was Plagueis' apprentice, but I'm not so sure. Palpatine says that Plagueis taught his apprentice everything--which would include the saving people bit--but Palpatine doesn't know how to save people, he says that he and Vader will discover it together and Anakin doesn't go, "Hey, wait, I thought you were supposed to know this!", which throws unreliability onto Palpatine's story already. There's a lot Palpatine is doing in this movie to manipulate Anakin very specifically--he puts Anakin on the Council, knowing they will ask him to spy on the Chancellor and even "guesses" it before Anakin can say anything at the opera, that he suggests Anakin should be the one to go to Utapau knowing that the Council will vote for a more experienced Master, he reveals himself to Anakin knowing that Anakin will tell them and be forced to choose, he tells Anakin the Plagueis story knowing that Anakin fears Padme's death (he is likely aware of Anakin's emotions about this, being an evil psychic space wizard himself) and sets it up so that it's the perfect bait. The conversation in ROTS goes:

Palpatine: "Remember back to your early teachings. All who gain power are afraid to lose it. Even the Jedi." Anakin: "The Jedi use their power for good." Palpatine: "Good is a point of view, Anakin. The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way... including their quest for greater power." Anakin: "The Sith rely on their passion for their strength. They think inwards- only about themselves." Palpatine: "And the Jedi don't?" Anakin: "The Jedi are selfless. They only care about others." Palpatine: "Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a dark lord of the Sith... so powerful and so wise... he could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians... to create... life. He had such a knowledge of the dark side... he could even keep the ones he cared about... from dying." Anakin: "He could actually... save people from death?" Palpatine: The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities... some consider to be unnatural." Anakin: "What happened to him?" Palpatine: "He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was... Iosing his power. Which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew. Then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic. He could save others from death... but not himself." Anakin: "Is it possible to learn this power?" Palpatine: "Not from a Jedi."

This entire conversation is a set-up to make Anakin think that it's not selfish to change his views, because it's just exactly as Anakin says the Jedi are selfless and only care about others that he starts the Plagueis story about this legendary Sith who just cared so much about his loved ones that he learned how to stop them from dying. But, oh, he couldn't stop himself from dying, he was only thinking of others! Not himself! Throughout the movie Palpatine is manipulating Anakin's thoughts so that Anakin will think in exactly the lines of thought that Sidious wants him to. ("Good is a point of view, Anakin." --> "From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!", "You know I'm not able to rely on the Jedi Council. If they haven't included you in their plot, they soon will." --> "I should have known the Jedi were plotting to take over!" Etc.) So when he wants Anakin to really consider using the dark side, he tells him a story about this mysterious Sith Lord who just wanted to save his loved ones, not himself, just those he cared about. It's the perfect way to give Anakin an excuse to take that first step that doesn't seem so bad, so against everything he knows is right, and think that it's okay if it's for someone else. It's not because he's so scared to lose someone he loves that he'll make a deal with the devil, no, he's just thinking of others, the ones he loves. The story is so perfectly designed to appeal to Anakin at this moment in time and so incongruent with everything else we know about Sith Lords and how the dark side works (the dark side is not a path to anything good), that I think it's 100% made up bullshit, just like everything Palpatine says to Anakin in this movie is a set-up to direct Anakin's thoughts where he wants them.

[ooooo-mcyt]

From Grian's Double Life pov, Scar's behavior in episode one feels like such a strong rejection I think.

(disclaimer that this is all speaking from grian's pov, not necessarily objective view on the situation.)

For starters we really do gloss over "Scar I think we're soulmates and you're too busy chasing fairies!" a lot. Grian very explicitly told Scar that he thinks they're soulmates (and in the same sentence is already expressing frustration with feeling like scar isn't paying attention or prioritizing grian's feelings like five minutes into them running into each other). Grian said it out loud. Scar heard him, which we know because Scar responded with "My real soulmate is flying away from me", which not only indicates Scar heard Grian, but also that he understood what Grian said on some level. And Scar walked away.

Grian has reason to feel rejected or devalued here. I mean, it seems like, from Grian's perspective, Scar thought whatever Grian was saying to him was so unimportant he instantly brushed Grian off and disregarded the conversation completely (despite grian being clearly distressed). Grian tried to express something extremely important, in a moment of obvious emotion, and he ended up feeling like Scar didn't care to listen, even when Grian said it plainly to Scar.

So then Scar and Grian go around the server, and Grian decides not to tell Scar yet (although to be fair grian already told him) and Scar..doesn't notice. They take damage multiple times while together but Scar never seems to notice when they do, or catch on to the fact that they're soulmates, even when practically everyone else they run into does in fact know, sometimes just from watching them take damage together. (oorp this was obviously for the bit, but from a character perspective i can't help but wonder if grian was 'testing' in a way, not trying to tell scar again because he's hoping scar will eventually care enough to notice himself)

And again, it's very easy for Grian to feel like Scar is rejecting or doesn't care about him. Grian feels like Scar isn't noticing him, like Scar doesn't even see him, because if Scar was paying attention, surely at some point he'd see something Grian sees as so obvious. I think this is an especially big blow to Grian specifically, because Grian often expresses love through fussing over people and making sure they're safe and healthy. So the fact that Scar apparently never once really looked at him specifically when either of them were in danger or taking damage was probably more hurtful for Grian than it would for many people.

Eventually Grian ends up going off on his own for a little bit, just to set up a little bit of a base and starting resources for them. Scar stops by, and Grian tries to tell him. "I have something to tell you!" Grian says. Scar waves him off and walks away. "I have something to tell you!" Grian calls again. Scar doesn't turn around.

Again, the running theme of Grian feeling like Scar isn't really noticing him. Another time where Grian tried to speak to Scar, to tell him they're soulmates no less, and Scar waves him off and walks away, like whatever Grian has to say isn't important, like it's something that can just be glossed over and disregarded.

And then Grian comes to Scar, marches over to Scar and his pandas, and tells Scar he has something important to tell him. Grian tells Scar to look at him, and drops dripstone on their heads. Scar isn't paying attention, laughing over the pandas. Grian presses- no, look, actually look this time!- and only after Grian demands Scar look at him can he drop another piece of dripstone on their heads and have Scar realize they're soulmates.

"Do we have to live together?" Scar asks almost immediately.

"It would be nice..."

Grian has to drag Scar to the base he's started.

And like. Obviously it isn't bad of Scar to not care about soulmates very much or to be distracted or unobservant. But all of this adds up to Grian, I think, feeling very deeply rejected, unheard, and devalued. Adds up to Grian getting this impression that Scar isn't interested in actively listening to him when he talks, or checking on him when they're in danger, or paying attention when something's important to Grian, or even just looking at him unless Grian begs him to. Which very naturally leads into Grian's arc of pulling back from Scar in following episodes.

[lou-struck]

A Warm Rescue

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

~ While out Bar Hopping with your friends, a long line and a lost jacket has you wishing the night would come to an early end.

W.C. 2.8k

Warnings: Alcohol use, Bar Hopping, Being Cold, use of y/n for reader.

a/n: I saw something like this happen the other day so this is a bit self indulgent. But for all you readers who are of legal drinking age, remember to dress accordingly. Inside the bar may be warm but outside is still going to be freezing. 

Your bedside clock flashes the time in your direction as you walk about the bedroom with your toothbrush in your mouth. It’s almost eight thirty which means your friends should be picking you up for your long-awaited night out, checking out some of the cooler bars your city has to offer. 

Your phone rests on Katsuki’s nightstand plugged into his much more efficient charger as you stuff your ID and Credit Card into the large front pockets of your pants. Normally you would try to bring a bag with you, but you decided against it for purely aesthetic reasons. 

From across the room, you see your phone light up with a message from Mina, the one who invited you on this fun little night out. 

‘Hey Y/n, the Uber is outside ur place!’

‘No Rush but hurry so we can get to the first bar before the kitchen closes!!!!’

“Momo wants fries.’

The little explosion of text messages brings a smile to your face as you grab your device off the nightstand in such a hurry, that you nearly take the whole charging cord with you.

It’s only at 38% so that will have to do for tonight. 

Just as you are about to leave the bedroom you take a peek at yourself in the mirror. Your arms are practically bare underneath your mesh sleeves and you wonder if you need to bring another layer with you that is a bit more wintery.

You grab a thin jacket and slip it on before heading towards the door. Your hand is on the handle as you shoot a glance back to the shut door of Katsuki’s office.

Your pro hero boyfriend has been on a Zoom call with someone from his agency for the past two hours and you would hate to interrupt him while he’s working. He may not be a night owl himself, but you know he worries about you when you go out.

Your phone's battery may be low, but it’s still enough for you to send him a little goodbye text. It’s short and sweet but you deem it appropriate enough as you press send and walk out the front door into the chilly early spring air.  

As you run towards the waiting Uber, you can’t help but think that this pathetic excuse for a jacket you have on may not be enough to keep you warm as the temperature drops lower and lower.

~

By the time your little group makes it to your first bar of the night, you are half frozen. But it is packed and the compressed body heat around you makes the air almost too warm for you. 

“Woah, it looks like it’s standing room only,” you murmur to absolutely no one. The loud thumping of the base drowns out your words before you even speak them. 

Not bothering to try to have a conversation with you, Mina’s pink arm links with your own, and she expertly drags you through the crowd to the only open booth in the whole place.

You gawk at her in amazement as you slide across the kinda sticky, black leather seats next to her as Momo buys the first round as well as some fries for the table. Because as she said in the Uber, “It is irresponsible to drink on an empty stomach.”

As you begin to sway along to the music, the heat from the bar’s seltzer-scented air gets to be too much for you. To cool down, you shrug the useless jacket down your arms, letting it rest on the booth behind you for later. 

“We look so cute,” Mina practically yells into your ear as there is a pause in the music. “What did Bakugo say when he saw you leaving?”

“Nothing.” you frown “He was working so I didn't get to say goodbye.”

“Sucks for him,” she grins, pulling out her phone. Her fully charged battery mocks your practically dead one in your pocket as he turns it sideways. “I’ll send him a picture of you so he knows what he’s missing out on.”

You smile as her camera flash blinds you. She tries to show you how the picture turned out but it just looks like a bunch of black and white dots on her screen as your eyes readjust to the darkened room. 

~

You may have been there too long. 

One drink turned to four and your head feels slightly fuzzy from your good-natured buzz. 

Between trips to and from the bathroom, the dance floor, and the bartop you feel you have thoroughly explored every inch of the small, overcrowded bar.

The fry baskets are empty and your drinks are nothing but ice and twisted lemon garnishes when your group gets up to leave. You pull yourself up from the booth and link arms with your friends laughing as you make your way through the crowd towards the exit so you can walk down the block. 

As you walk past the bouncer towards the door your slightly tipsy brain can’t help but feel like you're forgetting something. 

The shift from the loud cramped bar to the outside air is quite the sensation. Your ears feel like they have been stuffed with cotton as they readjust away from the loud music and even louder laughter that filled the bar. 

With your friends pulling you along the slightly frosty pavement to the next bar, the ‘alcohol blanket’ around you begins to wear off and you find yourself a little cold.

Okay, maybe a lot- 

You’re visibly shivering as your once floaty brain crashes down to earth in full sobriety. Why are you so cold?

You wrap your bare arms around yourself, your poor skin too cold to make goosebumps. And then you realize…

“Oh shoot, I left my coat in the other bar.” you realize bitterly. But even if you had your jacket with you, it wouldn't do much to keep you warm.

The group stops in their tracks and looks at poor, chilly you. “Should we go back and get it?”

“No worries,” you reply, shooting a glance back at the bar you had been at despite the freezing temperatures the line is out the door practically wrapping around the building. “Let’s just get to the next bar.”

“Are you sure?” Momo asks with concern “I could make you a blanket.”

You defiantly shake your head. The Pro could make you a blanket or something, but if something were to happen you would be wasting her quirk. “No thank you, it’s really not that bad.”

The two Pro Heroes look between themselves but know that you are just like your boyfriend. Stubborn to a fault.

You pick up your pace, the movement helping you feel a bit warmer as you lead your little group down the block. The taller building acts as a much-appreciated windshield for you.

“There it is.” Ashido squeals pointing to the next bar on your list. Since you guys spent way longer at the first bar you think that this may be your last stop of the night.

“The line looks short too”

“Thank god,” you mutter quietly as you guys approach the bouncer who shakes his head at the three of you and stops you with a meaty palm. His shaved head and designer sunglasses glisten under the urban lighting making him look twice as large and three times as mean.

“We're full,” he growls. “Move to the side and wait until someone leaves.”

“At least he didn't turn us away,” You murmur, watching as the bouncer waves away groups of younger adults with a mere twitch of his lip. The line thins, but never quite disappears. The lack of warm bodies around you makes you even more painfully aware of just how cold you are. ow

Your muscles ache, and as your buzz wears off you realize just how worn out you are feeling. The week was long, tedious, and although you would never complain of the hardships of your civilian job to two Pro Heroes, you are beginning to yearn for the comforts of your bed. 

Katsuckis warm body pressed against yours can put you to sleep in no time. 

He’s probably at home, warm in bed without you.

Jerk

A man slips out of the bar’s door, his cell phone pressed to his ear as he walks impatiently towards a rideshare. 

Mina bats her eyelashes at the bouncer and nudges you forward. “It’s freezing out here, is there any way our friend could go inside first? That guy over there just walked out.”

He lowers the glasses to the bridge of his nose and shoots you a look of disgust, that if you weren't living with the King of Scowls, would’ve terrified you.

“Are you a Pro Hero?” he sighs glancing briefly at his clipboard. 

“N-no.” you shiver as another brutal gust of wind cuts through the air.

“Are you famous?”

“Not at all.”

“Rich?”

“I wish,” you chuckle.

“Then why would I let you in all by yourself?”

“Because they are cold and you have the space inside?” Mina says stepping between you and the bouncer who seems to have a raging god complex.

Momo cuts “Because they are in a relationship with D~”

“I don’t care if they are All Might’s secret love child.” the man scoffs. “They are not getting inside without a VIP escort.”

“Guys it’s fine.” you huff trying to sound encouraging, your fake smile pinches your cheeks. “A few more minutes out here won't kill me, and then we can get back to having fun.”

Three pairs of eyes land on you. “Are you sure y/n you look pretty cold?” 

“I’m fine,” you grin. “I could stay out here for hours.”

Before anyone can call your bluff, a car screeches to a stop in the pickup area next to the line, its headlights reflect off the asphalt, blinding you and everyone else in the line. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to readjust, blinking away the weird dark spots until you can make out a figure sliding out of the driver's seat. Their hands are shoved deep into their pockets as they stomp in your direction. Blinking the figure into clarity you manage to make out the deep scowl of your boyfriend standing just feet away from you.

“Wow, someone is certainly out past his bedtime,” Momo comments, earning a snicker from her pink-haired friend. 

“Katsuki.” you shiver, you don't know if it's the lingering alcohol in your system, but you feel as if the Blond's heated gaze of irritation is warming the air around you. 

“It’s freezing out here, what the Hell do you think you are doing going out dressed like it's the Summer?"

“I had a jacket.” You say defensively, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide some of your cold skin. But your facade crumbles and you step closer to him for some much-needed comfort. “But I left it at the last place and now I’m really cold.”

He narrows his eyes as he takes in your shivering form. “No shit. You’re gonna catch pneumonia out here.” He unzips his black jacket and drapes it around your bare shoulders. Immediately you nuzzle into the warm, burnt sugar-scented garment. 

“Feels good,” you murmur, “Thank you.”

“Dynamite?” the bouncer's voice cracks as he looks up at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “I would’ve let them inside if I knew that~”

Your boyfriend's head snaps toward the bouncer. “YOU KEPT THEM OUT HERE IN THE COLD?”

“I-it’s policy,” he blubbers.

“IT’S A SHIT POLICY,” he spits back his warm arm snaking protectively around your waist. You lean into his warmth and watch as a woman steps out of the bar and rushes towards the bouncer. 

“What are you doing here Shawn?” she asks, and you can tell by her tone of voice that she is definitely the Bar's Manager. Katsuki and the others lock eyes as they realize that they are about to watch some top-tier drama unfold. “You were fired…Last week.”

Momo’s hand flies to her chest in shock as she drinks up this piping hot tea. “Oh my…”

The ‘bouncer’ decides to bounce, disappearing around the corner. To save face, the Manager turns to face your group and smiles. “So sorry about this you guys, please come on inside while I deal with this crowd, and find another bouncer.”

“You know, I don’t think those pajama pants fit the dress code.” Mina jokes pointing to your boyfriend's blue flannel pants. “Did you leave your bunny slippers in the car?”

His face turns a furious crimson as his grip tightens around your waist. “Shut Up Raccoon Eyes, clearly I’m going home to get some sleep.”

His warmth pulls away and your body instinctively follows. “You’re not coming with us?”

His eyes soften as he fiddles with the jacket around your shoulders. “It’s late, you should keep that with you and stay warm in there. And charge yer damn phone.”

“I don’t have a…” you feel the pockets and notice that he has slid a portable charger and one of your favorite snack bars in the pocket. 

Such a small gesture has you grinning like an idiot as you look up at the man in front of you. 

God… he is such a simp for you.

You could tease him, but why on earth would you bite the hand that literally feeds you? 

“Stay warm, okay?”

“I will,” you murmur, looking between your friends and your boyfriend. You want to go home, but you would hate to leave your friends since you hardly get to spend time together. 

“I know that look,” Momo says, giving you a smile, “You should get home and warm up. We’ll be done in a bit so how about we get brunch together tomorrow?”

“You can come too Bakugou,” Mina laughs, slinging an arm around Momo’s shoulders and receiving a scowl from your Boyfriend.

“You guys really don't mind if I call it a night?” you ask worriedly. 

“I mean, we love spending time with you, but you look like you’re freezing,” Mina says, her dark eyes full of concern. 

“Now go warm up before I pull a space heater out of my chest.”

“And trust me, she’s done it before.” They go into the bar gigging as you are now alone with your boyfriend, who miraculously isn't shivering now without his jacket. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wasn't just gonna let you freeze,” he says, his cheeks turning a tad pink from embarrassment. I saw that message from Raccoon eyes and you looked cold. I tried to lay down but I couldn't sleep thinkin of you freezing your ass off out here. And yer phone was dead so I couldn't~”

“You’re amazing,” you breathe and your poor heart can’t take it any longer. You practically pounce on him, pressing your cold lips to his much warmer ones. You pull away, far too soon for his liking, and give him your most innocent expression. “It’s cold out here, can we go?”

“Yeah, let's get out of here.” Clinging to his arm, he walks you over to his artistically parked car. Even in the dark, you notice the three outsline parking spots his vehicle is covering. “Nice parking job,” you tease. 

“Shut up,” he growls trying his best to glare at you as he opens the passenger door for you. “Clearly I had other things on my mind.”

The warm air from the heated car warms your air-chilled skin, and it doesn't escape your notice that Katsuki had turned on the passenger seat warmer for you before you had even planned on calling it a night. 

He knows you too well.

“This is nice,” you sigh, allowing the warm air to stream in through the vents as he drives off into the night. 

“I bet,” he hums, sliding one of his hands off the steering wheel and placing it softly on your exposed kneecap. “You still feel like ice, are you trying to catch a cold?”

“Of course not,” you object, “but, having you look after me wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.”

“You are such a pain,” he smiles, attention still on the road.

“But you love me.”

“Well no shit,” he scoffs, giving your knee an affectionate squeeze. “I wouldn't get out of bed in the middle of the night for anyone else.”

True love right there…

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network

[weclassybouquetfun]

When I'm in a Lewis Pullman fan competition and Danny Ramirez is my opponent.

This is really a THUNDERBOLTS* spoilers filled post, with time out to celebrate the friendship of TOP GUN: MAVERICK costars and MCU newbies Lewis Pullman and Danny Ramirez (FALCON & WINTER SOLDIER and CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD).

Now on to THUNDERBOLTS*. Warning: SPOILERS ALL UP IN YOUR FACE!

-I don't know the reason why Steven Yeun dropped out of the role of Bob / Sentry / The Void, but this was a great opportunity for Lewis Pullman who I have been a fan of since BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE.

He was not in the Amazon with her mom when she was researching spiders right before she died.

Funny enough, the BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE director wanted Tom Holland (who had his own Bob-esque fcuk as bob in THE CROWDED ROOM) for the role that went to Pullman. Second best is good enough!

Lewis with Sentry co-creator, Paul Jenkins.

-I avoid trailers and try my hardest to avoid spoilers, but as I am terminally online I knew that a character dies very early in the film.

What a relief it was only Olga Kurylenko's Taskmaster!

And as the saying, "There's a lid for every pot" is a truism, there were fans of the character that were angry as they were misled in the trailers.

Mate, you were not there.

But her death works for me because at that moment each one was there with a kill order. They are all skilled mercenaries so why wouldn't they complete their - no pun intended - task? It's unrealistic to not lose one of them. And while yeah, it was quick and dirty, at least Yelena honoured her and was defended her. It's really more respect she got in BLACK WIDOW.

-I wasn't sure about the lineup because, outside of Yelena, John Walker didn't wow me in FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, Ghost was a non-entity to me in ANT-MAN AND THE WASP, didn't care about Taskmaster and Red Guardian is alright; but they were all utilized well and using these disgraced characters to highlight shame and depression and trauma was a good way to give them a redemptive arc.

-I'm glad I don't watch trailers until after I have seen a film because the trailer spoiled Bucky's Terminator / Ethan Hunt motorcycle moment. I was so happy for the disposal of politician Bucky

to badassery Bucky.

I initially thought Bucky was only being used because they needed a big established character in the film, but his inclusion makes so much sense in that Bucky is still dealing with his trauma of being brainwashed; he's just not ready confront that again.

So many hairstyles - almost all stringy and greasy looking.

What l Liked: The fake out of Geraldine Viswanathan's Mel trying to help Bucky. That duplicitous so-and-so. Just like the contessa!

What I Didn't Like: The Contessa. A little bit of that character goes far. Julia Louis-Dreyfus is still acting like she's on a sitcom.

What I Liked: Yelena being the heart of the film; just as in Black Widow. Her vulnerability has always been a part of her, not just something they drag out as needed. And even in her darkness she still had the desire to uplift and save Bob.

Who people are shipping now. I mean, I do get it. But, nah.

Yelena co-creators Devin Grayson and J.G Jones at the premiere with writer/inker Jimmy Palmiotti.

The people have spoken.

What I love about Grayson is that fan outrage follows them wherever they lands. Grayson has made statements in the past about Yelena being ace or aro-ace, which some people took as canon, but Grayson later clarified it's not canon; just their own headcanon; which then people got angry about because they felt Grayson was backing down due to fanboys.

As someone who watched the eventual DC Comics banishment of Grayson after a series of things that made fans meltdown, I say to Marvel fans...

-What I Didn't Like - Having "The Fantastic Four Theme" as one of the music credits spoiled the post-credit scene.

-What I Liked: Teamwork! Every joining in to save Bob from The Void smacked of "IT" where the kids join in to defeat Pennywise the Clown. But the film/tv version, not the book orgy version. Although, I would not have been made at them using that tactic to defeat The Void.

And great that they show that - to borrow a phrase from another character's story, "With great power comes great responsibility." Not just anyone needs to have power and Bob definitely did not need power because he was so easy to corrupt due to his hurt. I suspect he will eventually learn how to wield it in a way where he can keep The Void at bay.

Overall - fun; but definitely felt its three hours heading into the third act.

-Next up: AVENGERS DOOMSDAY!

Winston Duke, RDJ, Paul Rudd, Channing Tatum, Simu Liu, Chris Hemsworth, Anthony Mackie.

Hemsworth, Tatum, Liu, Rudd, RDJ, Ebon Moss-Bachrach (with a Flat Stanley of Pedro Pascal), Vanessa Kirby, Duke and Mackie.

[tgd-sideblog]

this started as a reblog but actually i'm not gonna put this is on someone else's post bc i don't say this to pick an argument with any specific poster. But I'm seeing people tossing around slightly condescending posts about how people who were unsatisfied with the depiction of the team's grief in the latest ep just don't understand that grief is more complex than the world stopping so people can endlessly sob etc so I wanted to elaborate why imo the show didn't adequately deliver on the grief front.

The issue I have with the depiction of grief isn't that I don't know grief can be hard to talk about or that Eddie couldn't realistically leave Chris for an indefinite period of time until a date was set for the funeral or I'm too stupid to get the subtext of Buck isn't outwardly breaking down because he's trying to keep it together to support the team.

The issue is there's only two more episodes left in the season and instead of the impact on the 118 they spent half of the episode immediately after Bobby's death on a seeming irrelevant dead baby plotline (which was either a hint at Bobby still to be revealed as not in that coffin [in which case I think they've messed up the pacing of that storyline and if they do pull a resurrection twist they'll still have wasted the oppotunity of exploring reactions to Bobby's apparent death], a dig at the audience, or to show Athena that denial isn't a healthy way of coping with grief which doesn't make sense as a narrative choice because there was no indication she was in denial for there to be value added by a subplot about confronting that), so, having made that questionable choice, they've now only got two episodes left to cram in:

Chimney's survivors guilt

Presumably more Athena stuff (like deciding if she wants to continue with the house)

The new captain of the 118 (needs at least some groundwork even though they could easily hold off in confirming a permanent captain until next season)

Eddie chosing to return to LA and somehow getting his job back even though there's now no Bobby to help (or sending him back to Texas indefinitely to resolve in S9 which opens up a whole other can of worms)

the TWO different emergency plotlines which have been teased at least one which will likely be a big finale emergency

And somehow fit in grief narratives for Hen and Eddie and Buck and Chim who has grieving to do for Bobby seperate from his survivors guilt. they are all main characters who had close relationships with Bobby, they should each be getting personal storylines out of this.

And I just don't see how they can develop all of that with depth in the ~85 minutes remaining to this season*, so things are gonna get dropped and with the prevalance that has been put on big emergencies in recent episodes and the plot related stuff that needs to be wrapped up, it seems like it's going to be the emotional stuff that won't make the cut. People can give a hundred Watsonian justifications for why characters might react in certain ways, but none of that changes that personal grief reactions from Bobby's team have so far had less individual narrative focus than fucking Gerrard and the show has left themselves little room to rectify that.

*Obviously they could pick some of those plot points up in S9 and I would expect the grief to carry over between seasons, but I think killing Bobby off in April and then pausing most of the impact of that until probably well into October (given the limits they'll have on doing character stuff in what will presumably be another big disaster multi-part season opener) would be sloppy pacing that diminishes the emotional impact of Bobby's death. There's a reason when they carried Buck's injury plotline over from S2 to S3 they gave him an embolism so that there would be a recent event to bring the impact and required emotional beats back to relevance rather than expecting people to still be fully engaged with the bombing plotline from months previously.

[ragnarockz]

[stumbles into you ask box]

“the worst part is that i trust you. more than anyone else. and it kills me.”

"i kissed someone to forget you. didn’t work. shocking, right?"

“you said you hated me. so why did you come looking when i left?”

- vidal/agnes pls 🫡😍

(or just one of these if 3 is too much! Thank youuu 🫶🏽)

Tip Jar 💰

“the worst part is that i trust you. more than anyone else. and it kills me.”

FEATURING MY COWBOY!AU OF AGNES AND VIDAL! 🤠🤠🐎🌵

yee fucking haw but not in the way you expect it to be!

We Ride at Dusk playlist

She rode in from town before the sky could even blush pink; not unlike her face and neck when I pressed my lips to them and smothered her in kisses and soft bites. Her hat was pulled down low over her eyes and I couldn't tell if they were cloudless blue or, the way the sky changes darker when the stars come out. Deep and brooding.

That was Agnes all the time, unless of course, she had that smirk splayed upon her lips like someone holding back a secret. She didn't have many of them, secrets, not with how the way she looked at me and let her fingers dance upon my forever-warm skin.

"Why the hell do we stay out here anyway?"

I could tell she didn't mean what she said as she dropped from her horse and led him away over to mine. I waited for Agnes to come back; waited for her to tip her hat back so I could say my answer to her face.

But, she never tipped it back. She just ducked her way into our tent and waited for me to follow her inside.

"Ask me again, Agnes."

She turned her head to look at me and scanned my face as if all the answers to life out here would be revealed. Her chin jutted forward and her voice dropped low as she started undressing in front of me.

"Why the hell...do we stay out here?"

I know I couldn't look away from her; not with the look she was giving me in return. She was gauging just how quick she needed to be to make an exit or, how many steps to fully embrace me depending on my answer she was waiting for to fall out of my mouth.

"Because, Agnes, no one out there wants either of us..."

This landscape is unrelenting in ways people believe they know but fail to ever discover, experience. She and I knew it always, like an extra sun-bleached bone in our bodies that never failed to remind us that we were different.

Harsh and hot; mysterious and cold. These two things existed in tandem just like the two of us. Dancing always between beautiful and terrifying.

That lazy, sly grin bloomed over Agnes' lips before she licked them and stared me down like I was the only source of life left in the desert.

In some ways, I fully was.

The worst part was that sometimes, Agnes didn't realize it. Those were times, like now, where she kicked off her dust-coated boots and dropped to the floor of the tent and found herself rummaging through her things as if a thief had come in here during the night and stole her reasons.

She was, at times, someone without reason. No thief could take what wasn't there.

"What happened this morning?"

It was my turn to ask questions as Agnes turned to watch me from over her bare shoulder.

"You joining me?"

Her response flew over my words in a desperate attempt to dodge and seduce me at the same time.

Snake coiling around a mouse.

Her face was open and unafraid and that made me feel the same, so much so that I did decide to join her. I undressed as if my clothes were suddenly set on fire from the desert heat that still managed to seep into our tent.

I heard her blow air out through her nose and shift her weight against the floor of the tent as if that phantom limb between her legs was making her uncomfortable. I didn't dare look down into her lap as she turned herself around to face me.

"The people in town don't like me...or you..."

"I wonder why that is."

She snorted louder and drew her leg up and away; sitting with one knee up to her chest and her left leg down straight out on the floor. Her right forearm rested on her high knee which caused her right breast to raise slightly.

She looked dangerous; just like the scorpions that hid in between the cool, shaded rocks. She wanted me to put my hand in between her and wait foolishly for her to strike.

I watched her watch me as I took two and a half steps over to her before I myself dropped to my hands and knees in between her strong legs. She blew out her cheeks; prideful and smug. The scorpion was winning ever so slowly.

"The people in town...think we're up to no good..."

Agnes whispered as her eyes fell to stare at my bottom lip. Her hand reached out to cup the side of my face and her calloused thumb brushed over the curve of my jaw which ticked in anticipation against her skin.

I melted, like most things do in the desert, under that touch. Craved it like the last drop of water from my canteen. Desired it like the last wool blanket thrown over myself in the dangerously cold night.

"The people...don't trust us, Vidal..."

Slow and steady like a desert tortoise, Agnes' words fell from her chapped lips before she pulled me closer. Her mouth ghosted against mine but not fully; not sealing just yet so I, could get my final words in before she struck.

"The worst part is...that I trust you...more than anyone else...and it kills me..."

The moan that rose from her throat invoked my own before we drew together in a heavy kiss. We shut one another up as her hand left my face for more pressing areas of my body. She drew me in close so was basically sitting on her lap with the gnawing desire in the pit of my stomach to help myself.

The shy go hungry or so it was said.

I lifted myself up from her and heard a frustrating moan tumble from her lips. She watched in fury as I moved away, as if I was dissing her and her attempt to woo me even more than she already had. My right hand reached out to her, to her base so I could hold her steady as I sat myself down onto her cock.

The moan that fell from her lips then was like water hitting the hot sand; sizzling out with such intensity that her hands flew up and grabbed my hips and pushed me down without a second thought. I felt myself fill and stretch and knew for a fact that she was trying her hardest to twitch inside of me.

"Tell me...Vidal...please..."

Agnes really had to force her words out as she helped guide my hips; rolling and grinding down onto her. Her skin was sticky and hot; coated always with a sheen of sweat. The hair on her body curled with moisture just like the ends of her ponytail and it made me smile to see her so vulnerable in front of me, below me.

"...I'll never be able...to get away from you..not ever..."

Agnes threw her head back and let her mouth fall open; eyes closing and the lines between her eyebrows deepened. Those blunt nails of hers dug in deeper, pressed into my hip bones as she lunged upwards in her movements. She wanted me dangerously filled; bubbling over with so much satisfaction that there would be no reason ever for me to get away.

The image of Agnes' wrist rolling with the itchy coil of rope held loose in her fingers seeped into my mind as I let my body take over and my mind drift away. Her wrist kept rolling before she whistled long and loud and the flick of her wrist came forward and the rope left her fingers. She had managed to wrangle in something out in that valley; something that she wasn't going to let get away.

"comeonVidal...come for me...you...sweetfucking thing...fuck..."

I tried to pull my mind back as Agnes' words pressed into the side of my face; hot and wet just as the growing intensity between our legs had followed suit. She knew I was close by the way my breath continued to hitch higher in my throat before it evaporated into nothing and then, like a clash of thunder, a deep, rolling wave fell in a low moan.

I fell forward then, exhausted from her and from the way my body took too much that it was almost too much. I could feel my lower abdomen hold tight and then relax and a deep, sinking feeling filled me and I felt a warm rush not unlike those falls Agnes and I had rode out to see. I felt her hand move around my hip to rub at my lower back; lazy and desperate as she soothed me down from my orgasm. I took my chances here to breathe large mouthfuls of air.

The rope tightened then around my neck and the crunch of boots against hot rocks and sand came closer. It was Agnes, always Agnes as she stood there before me with the sun at her back. Hat tipped low so I couldn't see her eyes; secrets she couldn't hide from me.

Not now, not ever.

[blue-sadie]

First Lesson

English Teacher Henry Creel x Student Reader

Series Masterlist

Part of the Teachers Pet Series - OG @amber-michaelson

Summary: being tired gets you called out and getting called out is bad, you're not a bad student right?

Warning: classroom sex, choking, hair pulling

Yn/2nd person pov

I jolted as my head it the desk with a thud the slight sting making me groan in pain "my class boring you Ms l/n" my eyes shot foreword seeing Mr Creel standing infront of my desk his arms folded over his chest, his eyes looked down on me with slight amusement.

I shook my head 'no' making his lips curled up in a smile "see me after class" his head nodded as he spoke unfolding his arms and headed back to his desk, my cheeks turned rosey as I got a few jealous stares from the girls seated around me.

The rest of class went by with a blur, the bell soon signalled the end of the day, the rest of the class packed up while i stay seated my eyes gazing out of the widow, the afternoon colours taking full force in the sky.

"Is there a reason your so tired yn" my eyes snapped to his as he appeared infront of me, my fingers intertwined tapping against my own skin and the nerves settled in "if this carries on I'll have to stop your constant visitors" my mouth gaped open but no words came out.

He turned his back to me walking over to his desk "you can't do that" I flinched as my words came out louder then attended he turned back to me his face holding a mixture of disbelief but intrigued "and how are you gonna stop me" he's words were spoken with a hint of curiosity.

He leaned over my desk his head dipping down to my level "I'll go to the dean" I muttered making him laugh "oh my dear how do you think your old headmaster will feel finding not only one but three of her teachers sleeping with a student and still do" my jaw clenched as his threat settled in.

"Why do you care so much" I said standing up making my chair scrap against the floor his frown turned into a smirk as his eyes grazed up and down my body making a shiver ran up my spine, his hand reached out grabbing the collar of my shirt and tugging me closer.

"Because you little girl now belong to me and I don't like sharing" he muttered lowly it was almost a growl, he tugged me closer smashing our lips together making me gasp, he took the opportunity to shove his tongue, his hands moved to grab the rest of my shirt ripping it open sending the buttons everywhere.

I pulled back gasping but he just rolled his eyes "I can by you better ones if your worried" he chuckled his hands moving to undo his shirt it dropped to the floor letting my eyes wonder his body was much better then I imagined.

"now be a good little girl and lean over the table" I didn't even realised he moved until I felt his body press up against me I slowly obeyed leaning my elbows against the wooden desk top, I shivered feeling goosebumps appear on my thighs as he flipped up my skirt.

His belt buckle hit the floor with a thud as his pants dropped down I felt his cock press up against my clothed cunt his hips slowly moved pressing his hips further into mine making my eyes flatter from the faint stimulation.

"hurry up" I mewled becoming impatient he chuckled slight as he moved back I watched as he dropped his boxers letting his hard dick out, I licked my lips moving my hips in anticipation, he ran the tip up and down my slight before slowly pushing in.

My fingers gripped the edge of the table as he started moving the feeling of his dick thrusting in and out almost made my eyes roll back, I moaned out as he grabbed my hair pulling it back till he could press his lips against mine muffling our moans together.

His thrusts got faster and faster the sound of each thrust surely can be heard from outside the classroom, his other hand made its way around my neck gripping it slightly making my breaths a bit laboured.

His thrusts sent my hips into the desk making it squeak against the floor "such a good little girl" He grunted as he felt me start to tight "gonna come for me" he muttered making nod furiously he smirked victoriously "speak" he said.

"yes i-im gonna come for you" I choked between moans, my eyes began to roll as I felt myself start to cum, my body shook with pleasure and my muscles tensed leaving me limp against the table.

Mr Creel grunt as he pulled out he sat back into my chair running his hand through his hair "get down on your knees and suck" he muttered breathlessly and I winced complying settling myself before him and slowly taking him in my mouth.

"first lesson, you do as I say you.....''

The end 🤪

First series of @amber-michaelson that I've edited and continued

[attleboy]

What is the pomni drawing your most proud of?

oooo interesting question that is honestly. a bit hard to answer at the moment... i've been prioritizing having fun instead of putting full effort into everything due to like, time constraints and such soooo i wouldn't consider most of what i've posted to be "full pieces"

that aside, probably the mirror room piece? it's a bit complicated ... while i'm still very proud of it there was actually a lot more to the drawing than i posted, but it was just too hard for me to pull off in full?

i didn't plan well enough and in the end i had to take the coward's way out by cropping out the bits i was having trouble with. whoops ^-^;

i'm not too torn up about that though, it was experimental in the first place and i learned from it so all is well

alternate options would probably be either the bone comic [i might be biased due to its success, but i was pretty happy with the general flow of it and my expression work there] orrrr this sketchy animation that i'm still working on which isn't a masterpiece or anything, i just get really giddy over making pictures move

here's a sneak peek... you might be able to guess the full contents if you think back a bit

[kettlefire]

A Panic in Time (DP x DC)

This is all thanks to the awesome @tkiesai for basically being the foundation of this idea! This is probably going to be long, and probably won't delve that deep into my ideas about this idea. Largely so it's not insanely long. But here I go!

°•°•°•°

Bruce's head felt like it had been shoved through a straw and spit out on the other side. The throbbing was annoying, but it wasn't anything the man couldn't handle.

His mind was muddled, memories of what happened prior to him awaking was blurry and unsure. Bruce knew it wasn't something good.

He vaguely remembered a league meeting, a threat, something looming. It wasn't world ending, or at least that's what Bruce remembered. It should have been something they could handle.

But now, here was Bruce. Waking up in the grass of some random park. He was dressed in casual attire, something he'd wear in public as Bruce. Although last he remembered he was in the Batsuit.

The sun felt too bright in the sky. The sound of families filled the air and children's laughter. No one seemed to blink twice at Bruce as he pulled himself together.

It took a moment to steel himself, to gain composer again. It took a few sweet lines, and a charming smile for a nice mother to slide him a few painkillers. The lies rolling off his tongue like second nature.

To his luck there was a newspaper at the top of the trashcan. He was in some town called Amity Park, and the year... the year was the problem.

It was 1996. Whatever had happened had sent Bruce back in time. There was a few suspects Bruce can think were the cause of this. But something in his gut kept drawing his train of thought to the Flash.

It seemed like each time the League had any time related problems, Barry was in the center of it. Which also leaves Bruce with the question if he was the only one sent back in time.

God, he could only imagine the nightmare if the others were sent back in time. Yes, they can be professional. They understand the risk of changing things in the past.

But Bruce also understands that his team can be less than... intelligent at times.

Despite that, Bruce needed to find a way to get back to Gotham. He might not know for sure where everyone was right now, but he knew Alfred was the safest bet.

A plan laid out in Bruce's mind, a list of people he knew wouldn't be a risk to approach. He just needed to find a way to get to them. He had barely made it to the gates of the park before a shrill cry pierced the air.

There was just one loud outcry, before it quieted down. Bruce glance around the space, spotting a young boy curled on the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's chubby cheeks.

And no one even moved to the boy's aid. Not a single mother spared more than one glance in the kid's directions. No parents came rushing over to the boy's side.

Bruce almost walked away, he really did. This wasn't his time, anything he does can cause immense damage to the timeline. But when Bruce caught sight of blood bubbling from a scrape on the boy's knee, Bruce couldn't ignore him.

Maybe it's just the father in him, but Bruce barely even notices when he's crossing the small distance. His mind zeroing in on a hurt child that needed help. Kneeling before the small boy with a gentle smile, and pulling his handkerchief free from his pocket.

"You're alright there, buddy. It looks like you took a bit of a tumble there." Bruce slipped into the same tone he used to use when his kids were young. Gentle and understanding, as he pressed the handkerchief to the small scrape.

The boy sniffled, tears slipping from his eyes. Bruce was more focused on the way the kid was looking at him. Like he couldn't fathom someone coming to his aid.

That look had Bruce's heart breaking slightly. He's seen a similar look before. The few times he's come to the aid of a hurt child that wasn't used to getting help.

Something no child should ever feel or experience.

"Where's your parents, kiddo?" Bruce asked after a moment of silence from the boy. He had waited until the kid's breathing settled down when the boy's chest stopped pumping so quickly.

Except his question only seemed to bring a new wave of tears to the boy's eyes. The small child just seemed to curl into himself further, ducking his gaze away from Bruce.

And as much as Bruce didn't want it to be true, it was clear the kid didn't have the support he needed. It might not as be as far as some of Bruce's kids have had in the past.

But it was clearly not good.

"That's okay, it's alright. What's your name?" Bruce tried again. The boy's silence was leaving an uncomfortable pit in Bruce's stomach.

"D-Danny..." The boy spoke out his name between sniffles, and Bruce felt a wave of relief hearing the boy speak.

In hindsight, Bruce can see how strange the scene might look. A slightly disheveled man comforting a lone young boy in a park. It wasn't exactly perfect.

But with the lack of reactions from the parents around, Bruce had a feeling the town had an idea who this boy was. The whole situation just didn't feel that right for him.

It took a few more comments before Bruce managed to get the boy to crack a smile. A laugh had felt like breaking a massive wall.

Before long, Bruce had Danny actually like any other boy he's known. Carefree and happy, just like a child should be.

"You didn't tell me your name, mister." Danny had suddenly cut down the relaxed moment they were in. A pout laced the boy's lips as he looked up at Bruce, almost accusatory.

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne." Bruce responded without missing a beat. He knew this might cause problems in the future. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But when his gut is telling him something, he can't just ignore it. He checked his pockets, finding no business cards anywhere. So, Bruce fell back in plan B.

"No matter how long it's been from now, you can come to me for help. Just look for Bruce Wayne in Gotham City, and when you find me... just say Fairbanks sent you."

Bruce wasn't sure if he'll ever see Danny again when he goes back to his own time. Wasn't even sure if this was the same universe as his own. But he couldn't walk away without at least offering the boy help in some way.

When Danny's eyes filled up with tears again, Bruce thought he said something wrong at first. That was until the boy was suddenly clinging to his shoulders in a tight embrace, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.

Bruce felt himself almost close to tears just from that alone. His heart was aching for the small boy. Even if Bruce couldn't help Danny anymore than this, he was hoping the boy would have a better life.

One where he wasn't clinging to a stranger for comfort that family should be providing him.

THWAMP

It didn't hurt, but it did cut their hug short as Bruce suddenly pulled away. Turning his head to see a young girl wielding a wiffle bat, and another young boy standing behind her.

Her purple eyes glared at Bruce like he had done the worst thing in the world. Her grip on the bat was threatening and ready to swing again. Her knuckles white from the tight grip alone.

Maybe leaving this time era might not be as easy as Bruce thought as the young girl probbed him with angry and scolding questions. Not that Bruce could blame her.

He just hoped this hiccup didn't get back to the league. They'd have a field day hearing about how Batman got scolded by a child with a wiffle bat.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Danny wasn't sure if this was the best idea. It's been years since he met Bruce Wayne. So many years. Danny had just been a kid, not even ten, when Bruce had introduced himself.

When he had an adult, actually check in on him. Yet, it was a memory Danny couldn't forget. Maybe it was just the kindness that Bruce radiated.

Or maybe it was when Sam came to his "rescue" near the end. Regardless, it was cemented in his mind. A core memory that Danny cared with him through the years.

Now, here he was, roughly seven years later. Standing in front of a manor that put even Sam's place to shame.

It took a lot of courage for Danny to knock. Barely a second later, an old man answered the door, an accent Danny was certain Bruce hadn't had.

A stuttered explaination of being here to see Bruce Wayne, that the man knew him, barely left Danny's mouth before the old man ushered him inside.

The man, Alfred, told Danny to wait by the door before vanishing further into the manor. It took a lot for Danny to not just vanish.

Being half ghost nowadays had its quirks, Danny could just vanish, and no one but Alfred would know. But he couldn't.

It had taken a lot for Danny to make the journey to Gotham City. He hadn't even thought to look up a current picture of Bruce either. Which was probably a big mistake on his end.

Danny didn't even know if Bruce was offering this kind of help. But Danny didn't have many allies to turn to. He needed help.

Not just for himself but for his family. For Amity Park. He couldn't be afforded the ability to run away. Not now.

Danny felt all the air leave his lungs when Bruce entered the area. The man didn't look a day older than what Danny remembered. Bruce looked a bit more put together, not like he had just jumped out of a moving car, but it was Bruce.

"Uhm... I don't know if you remember me. But my name's Danny... we met when I was a kid." Danny started trying to explain himself before Bruce could speak. He recognized that confused look anywhere, and Danny didn't have the guts to go through with this if Bruce asked any questions.

"You told me if I ever needed help, to come find you. Bruce Wayne in Gotham City... you, uh, told me to tell you Fairbanks sent me?"

That came out more like a question than Danny would have liked. But it did ease his nerves a bit as he watched Bruce's slightly confused expression turn to alarm and surprise.

Danny wasn't sure what this would do. If Bruce could truly help him. But he was out of options. Just seeing Bruce recognize something he said was enough to calm the teen's anxiety slightly.

"I'm sorry, Danny... I don't remember you. But I believe you and I want to help you. Come inside, have a seat, and tell me what's going on."

That response was enough to have Danny's eyes fill with tears. His chest filling with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in weeks now.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[ooooo-mcyt]

I am also generally confused by the take that Scott in some way forces his allies to kill him against their will (presumably so he can feel like a hero or something?) because no he doesn't?

The closest I'd say Scott has come to 'making' an ally kill him is with Gem at the end of Secret Life, in that he insisted she do so when she was hesitant to, and that she has since then shown disdain for the concept of similar team sacrifices. But I really don't think the interpretation that Scott made Gem kill him, especially out of selfishness, is a fitting one. I mean, first of all they were in a desperate time sensitive situation, on extremely low health with no way of regenerating. Scott was a one shot, if either of their enemies shot at him they'd get extra hearts and Gem wouldn't stand any chance. Sure, Scott is a little "pushy" in this scene, but it doesn't read at all as him trying to strongarm Gem into killing him for personal reasons to me, he's a bit frantic because this is a desperate situation. Also Gem is an adult who can make her own decisions? And a very strong willed one at that? She didn't kill Scott because he told her to and she can't say no, she killed Scott because, even though she didn't want to, she also recognized it as the only option they had.

And other than that, I genuinely can't think of any time Scott was even remotely pushy for an ally to kill him?

I mean, I guess he was a little frantic with telling Martyn to kill him that one time in Limited Life, I guess, but they'd already discussed Martyn killing Scott prior to this, and Scott was once again being 'pushy' in tone because he was actively being chased by someone trying to kill him first and Martyn needed to come kill him immediately, so again, I feel like that's just desperation, not him trying to be forceful. And lets be completely real, Martyn didn't mind killing Scott for extra time.

Scott offers lives to allies on other occasions. Gem in Secret Life (the first time, when he's yellow) and Pearl in Wild Life come to mind right away. But they were both absolutely undoubtedly willing to take that offer.

And he's not always the one who initiates his allies killing him!

For some quick examples, Jimmy called Scott in Limited Life specifically because he needed more time and knew Scott would give him a life, and Cleo just walked up to Scott and asked if they could kill him in Simple Life. People know Scott is willing to give lives for them, and they are, in fact, very much willing to take advantage of that offer when it benefits them. This isn't something that Scott just does to make everyone uncomfortable (i genuinely don't know where that idea comes from), people are more than willing to go to him and ask to kill him.

Plus lets not forget that not all of his allies ask to kill him! Martyn didn't hesitate to drop tnt where it could easily have killed Scott in Limited Life episode one (which scott instantly forgave), and Martyn outright full betrayal killed Scott at the end of Limited Life. Gem and Impulse were both willing to kill Scott as part of the Boogeyman Army in Secret Life and the Boogeyman Army didn't hesitate to attack him once he was one of the last few left. While they didn't try to kill him directly, both Pearl and BigB (independently, not knowing the other had also done so) colluded with The Spanners to let them kill Scott in the same episode and Etho cleanup-killed Scott out of the series in Wild Life (i know this was an accident, according to what etho said immediately after, but scott didn't know that and he was fine with it). Joel and Grian were also very quick to try to kill Scott even though they'd been working together in Simple Life.

I'm just saying I think it's silly that there's this perception of Scott forcing his allies to kill him for his own ego or because he wrongly thinks he knows whats best for them when that doesn't happen? The only times Scott has been even remotely "pushy" in getting his allies to kill him were during extremely high stress time sensitive situations where he was clearly acting out of desperation, and much much more often his allies are more than okay with killing him, to the point where they'll bring up the idea first, or even just do it without asking.

[darkaac]

one thing leads to another which leads to another which leads to another which once again leads to me asking how do you fuck this up at every turn

[regular-lord-reckoner]

well, in some good news i think i salvaged my hair and it turns out the provider i hate doing charts for more than goddamn anything has decided she no longer needs my services, lol

i'm free!!!