#halfwits

[hallbera]

Hey @staff​ OP is smarter than all your asshat million dollar marketing maniacs. We hate your ridiculous changes with the fire of a red hot sun. We joined Tumblr because it’s NOT like the other garbage sites. JFC Idiots.

i get the point of the polls informally showing that the vast majority of tumblr users have been here for years and barely anyone is new. the problem is that the suits don't look at that kind of data and go "ah, we understand. the majority of our users are oldheads who want things to stay the same. we misunderstood our audience." they absolutely have hard numbers on these things. they surely know most active users have been here forever. but they look at these stats and go "wow, our growth rate really IS shit. we're still relying on an ever-dwindling pool of users who have been here since they were teenagers in the early 2010s. we need to be working even harder to make this place appeal to new users"

the higher ups and investors on sites like this want infinite growth forever. this is why they keep changing the layout to make it look like other, more popular sites, even though we hate it. this is why they try out shit like tumblr live that doesn't appeal to the established core userbase in the slightest. it's not for us. it's also not for the ~5% of active users (if the poll going around is to be believed) who signed up within the last year. no, they're chasing after the hundreds of millions of people who use twitter and the BILLIONS of people who use tiktok, hoping to appeal to them and make tumblr more popular again

this is, of course, deeply stupid. nobody is leaving tiktok to hop on tumblr live. they already have tiktok. and we're on tumblr because we like tumblr, not because we want it to morph into something else. but i'm sure automattic's got venture capital investors breathing down their necks going "why isn't tumblr more like twitter or tiktok or facebook or instagram or" etc. etc., and so here we are

[canadianstud]

SCTV Half Wits and Leave it to Beaver 25th Anniversary Party Reaction

[bobacupcake]

i gift you a png of my cat. please use her as you wish

thank you SO much. here are pngs of mint and basil

[backjustforberena]

While everybody else is melting down, she's kind of holding them all emotionally and holding together herself emotionally. She's got on the back of that dragon and she's gone out and she's been basically doing all the work! I feel like she's sort of coming back, she's absolutely exhausted, she hasn't had a bath for ten days, completely knackered, she's been riding around on this dragon, sort of not crying and just dealing with everything, dealing with it and getting on. She comes back to this group of total halfwits, who are all in pieces, melting down left right and centre. And seeing the world around her melt down too. She's carrying a very, very heavy load and I think she's absolutely shattered and emotionally shattered.

[butevrythinggoesaway]

People on ao3 AND tumblr stop tagging Noir when he has nothing to do with your work/post challenge

[toomanybandstocare]

{Naboo Sunset}

Program: When Padmé sends word to you that Rex will be on an extended leave this time, you make sure that he'll enjoy his well deserved rest with no worries. Even with General Skywalker in on your plan, no one could have foreseen how Rex would react to your affection. Naboo will always be where the two of you point as the start of your lives as riduurs.

Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: 2636w

Camp Resolute's Masterlist

ClonexReader Bingo

Prompt: Sunset

Warnings: Mild suggestiveness, Petnames (usual Mando'a ones), Alcohol (not to the point of getting drunk)

Counselor Notes: Well this took a turn I didn't see coming! Thank you @ghostofskywalkerfor the idea of a sunset date with Rex <3 For the @clonexreaderbingo.

“So, just to make sure I understand correctly,” Rex slowly voices his concern as he walks off the Twilight with Skywalker, “Senator Amidala requested extra security for the Senate gathering that Naboo is hosting, and the GAR only sent the two of us”. After working with the general for most of his military career, Rex is wary when it comes to any mission with the jedi. His concern only grows when he knows the general is hiding something from him. Rex scans the royal hanger with his eyes, and his suspicions heighten when he realizes their ship is the only one not from this planet. 

“No,” Anakin drags out. “But we are here by special request. That part isn’t a lie”.

Rex rolls his eyes and sighs, “Then why are we here, sir?”

The two men reach the main entrance where the guard lets them into the palace with no questions asked. Rex’s eyebrow raises at the lack of protocol. His heart quickens as they walk through the bright palace halls. Normally, Rex can push aside the insecurity that comes with feeling like an outsider, but the grandeur of the royal halls and the luxurious outfits that its inhabitants wear cause him to sink into himself slightly. Finding comfort in the plastoid armor that his brothers wear alongside him even systems away.

Anakin looks at the captain out of the corner of his eyes for a moment, taking note of his stiff posture. He focuses on his gaze in front of them, but he then bears off to a side corridor. He leads Rex to a hidden staircase and explains, “The 501st has been granted an extended leave after our last success”.

Rex’s eyebrows furrow, “Then why are we on Naboo?” He’s careful to keep his voice calm so as to not betray the growing hope that’s overcoming him. The last rays of early evening bleed into a vibrant sunset over the lake from the open archways that line the outer wall.

“I may, or may not, have lied about the Senator requesting you to be here,” Skywalker sheepishly admits. “That doesn’t mean someone else didn’t request your presence, though”.

Reaching the top of the stairwell, Skywalker steps to the side and opens the door for Rex. His signature smirk appears on his face, and Rex thinks this is finally the moment he’ll strangle the general for everything he's been put through. Fully ready to voice his intent, Rex’s body freezes at the sight of you sitting at a table for two on the palace’s terrace.

Dressed in a summer evening outfit, you look at your partner in amusement as he can’t take his eyes off you. His expression of disbelief makes you lightly chuckle. Warmth blankets around you as the sun kisses your skin causing butterflies to tickle your stomach.

“I’ll leave you two to it. We’ll have a few weeks here, Rex, so try to actually relax on your time off,” Skywalker quietly dismisses himself. Before he completely moves away, he nods at you in gratitude.

You smile lightly at the general, and you focus your gaze on Rex. “Care to join me? It’d be a shame to let this go to waste,” you say and motion to the table full of fruit, cheese, and bread. A jug of water sits on the side of the table with a bottle of wine in a chiller stand. 

Rex can’t breathe as he takes in this moment. Memorizing it to hold close for the rest of his life, his heart swells to the point where he swears he's going to break. “How,��� Rex tries to find his voice as he walks towards you, “How did you plan this?”

You reach your hands out to him and grasp his gloved hands. Rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles, you explain, “I had some help. Padmé learned about it through her husband, and she sent me a message. Offered to let us have a vacation away from prying eyes”. You look up at him from your seat and flutter your eyelashes. The soft smile on your face growing as Rex looks down at you in adoration. A flush warms your cheeks when he takes one hand to tilt your chin up towards him. His gentle touch ignites sparks across your skin.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Rex quietly mumbles before placing a kiss to your lips. His hand then cups your jaw to help guide you into a better position to deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours and pride warms his chest when you meet him with equal tenderness. Everything feels as if it comes to a standstill as the two of you reunite and fall into your partner’s embrace.

You rest your free hand on his hip and run your thumb over the new scratches on the worn plastoid. Silently thanking the stars for safely returning Rex to you one more time. Rex pulls away from your lips, and before you can protest, he places a quick peck to your pout. Your heart races from the small act, and you meet his affectionate gaze with a similar look on your face. “I think you’ve voiced the idea one or two times,” you muse, “You did, did however, say we would need all the time in the galaxy to truly express how much you adore me”. 

You lightly laugh and let him step away to find his seat across from you, and his laughter soon joins yours. You pour water into both your glasses while you softly inquire. “How would you like to go about your vacation?” When Rex raises an eyebrow as he slips off his gloves, your cheeks flame as your mind begins to wander from the terrace oasis to the luxurious bedroom the two of you will find comfort in soon enough. “We have a gift sitting in front of us. If you want, we could completely ignore the war for a short time. Get lost in our imaginations of what it would be like to spend our lives peacefully hidden away from the galaxy,” you elaborate.

Rex looks at you with a thoughtful expression. His eyes flickering from your ethereal appearance to the beautiful scenery that leads his mind to all the possible afternoon rendez-vous the two of you could find yourselves in before noticing the small quirk of your lips. His chest aches at the care you’ve put into this experience for him, and he leans forward to grasp one of your hands across the table. “That’s a very dangerous idea, cyar’ika,” Rex muses.

“Don’t you flirt with death everyday, love?” you tease and squeeze his hand. “How could a blossoming field of flowers beside a tranquil lake pose more of a threat than a battlefield?”

 Rex chuckles and looks up at you from his eyelashes. His amber eyes hold a roguish glint that only grows in intensity at the small shiver that falls over your body. When he responds, he voice drops into a gravelly, hushed tone, “I meant dangerous for you, cy’are. Three weeks tucked away from any distractions where I can finally take my time to love and adore you. Worship you every morning, afternoon, and evening for everyday we live in paradise. You’re offering me too much when it should be me who offers you everything”.

Your breath hitches and the blush rising to your cheeks rivals the sunset’s rich red and orange hues that paint the sky. Heart pounding against its cage, your voice comes out airy: “Whatever you desire, I shall give to you during our time together. As long as you promise that you’ll return to me each time we must part ways”.

Rex feels like he can’t breathe. A wash of guilty pleasure consumes him as you bite down on a strawberry. The glistening juice trails across your lip before your tongue swipes across to collect it. Your lighthearted laugh seemingly brings a brighter glow that Rex didn’t think was possible to the golden beams of sunlight that stream through the hanging flowers. His other hand subtly moves to his utility belt as you turn your head to watch the sun set against the great lake. Rex is thankful that you let him get lost in his thoughts this time, because he wants to do right by you for this change in your relationship.

“I will do everything in my power to come home to you, so we can continue to create memories like these together,” Rex promises. His voice softens into a reverent awe, and as he speaks he unclasps one of his pouches.

“I know,” you softly acknowledge, “I will always count down the days until we reunite, but during those days I will always worry for your well being and safety”. Rex’s hand squeezes yours, and your expression drops. Not daring to look at your lover, you keep your attention to the families and friends who gather by the lake’s shore to begin their summer celebration. Your chest constricts as hugs are shared and shouts of excitement crescendo against the evening’s warm breeze.

Rex ducks his head and sighs. His fingers hesitate when they graze the small box he’s kept safe by his side during his last few deployments. When he steals a glance at you, Rex’s heart all but breaks at the adoration he holds for you. Sitting before him, Rex looks upon his lover who holds him with such care and tender love. Who understands him better than he does. Who goes through every obstacle to stand by his side and support him in a galaxy that causes a fear to fester in the back of his mind. A lover who walks him off the edge when his emotions get the best of him. There’s no one more deserving of his lifetime devotion after everything his cy’are has done for him. Certainly, no one who he could imagine living the rest of his life with.

With a reignited spark of resolve, Rex scoops the small box into his hand and clasps the pouch. “I can’t promise that a worst case scenario will never happen,” Rex quietly begins. When you turn to face him with a worried expression that nearly makes him choke, he takes a deep breath. “However, if there is a way for me to find my way back to you, I will always search for it. There is nothing in this galaxy that could keep me from returning to you. The only exception being death itself”.

Your breathing begins to grow heavy as you listen to Rex’s declaration. A night you hoped would be full of laughter and relaxation now renders you speechless while feeling the weight of his words sink into you. Your heart races as you watch Rex rise to his feet and return to your side once more. “Rex,” you softly question. Only for a quiet gasp to slip past your lips when he drops to one knee now holding your hand with such tenderness as he trails his thumbs across your knuckles.

Rex’s heart pounds against his chest as blood rushes to his ears. An overwhelming mixture of emotions makes him feel dizzy, but he will not let this opportunity pass. “I have never met a person who willingly gives a piece of their heart to whoever may need it. Someone who cares so deeply for their loved ones or people they have only just met, because you believe that everyone deserves to feel cared about. Regardless of if you’ve spent weeks with them or just a few minutes. You offer your heart to anyone and trust them to take care of it just as you would theirs, because you hold hope that the galaxy will rebuild itself into a place where everyone feels at home once more”.

“You’re going to make me cry,” you let out a watery laugh and wipe away the threatening tears, “You better not be doing what I think you’re trying to do. This vacation is supposed to be about you”.

Rex lets out a short laugh of disbelief as he shakes his head. He looks up at you with a beaming smile, “But that’s just it, cy’are. Without you, I am a shell of a man. You have brought so much light and love into my life that I never dared to dream possible. My heart only beats for you, and I want to spend the remaining days of my life by your side”. Rex slides his thumb under the ring box’s lid as his thunderous heartbeat echoes in his ears. “If you will allow me the honor, I would like to care for you with just as much devotion as you have shown me in the time we have already shared together”. 

Your eyes soften as Rex opens the ring box to reveal a simple silver band with a small sapphire in the middle. The last rays of light catch on the gemstone to cause it to sparkle in the early evening. “You would be a fool to ever think I wouldn’t say yes,” you weakly laugh and run your thumb under your eyes. 

“Then say it,” Rex pleads. His amber eyes shimmer with excitement in the golden sunlight as he waits to hear the words he’s only dreamed of hearing you say.  “Please”.

“Yes,” you softly assure him, “I would love to spend the rest of my life by your side”. There was never a doubt in your mind that this would be the man you married when you first met, but as Rex slips the band onto your ring finger, you have never known a love so strong. When you try to convey your feelings, the words can’t come. Only a small whimper falls from your lips and a short laugh. So instead you cup Rex’s face, and you share a passionate kiss. Your eyes flutter closed as you commit this moment to memory. 

A chuckle of acknowledgement falls from Rex before he nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss. Tilting his head, Rex holds your wrists and thumbs your racing pulse points. Your hum causes his skin to tingle. Finally, Rex feels as if he’s found his place in the galaxy. When your kiss breaks, the two of you still lean into each other's embrace and rest your foreheads together. For a few minutes, the pair of you don’t move away. Only shifting slightly to ghost your lips over over the other in featherlight kisses. Nudging your chin with his nose to make you open your eyes, Rex gently places a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling away to stand up.

Instead of sitting across from you like you thought he was doing, your eyebrows raise when he takes his chair and moves it next to yours. “Couldn’t even go a minute without being apart,” you find your voice to tease.

Rex shoots you a look of amusement while reaching over to pick up the bottle of wine from the chiller. “Because you’re any better,” Rex counters and nods to your hand resting on his belt. Now adorn by a silver band that only makes his smile grow at the sight. Twisting the cork free, Rex pours both of you glasses of bubbly and places the bottle back in the chiller. As he sits by your side, he offers you a glass and rests a hand on your thigh. He tilts his glass towards you with his usual charming expression. “May we share as many days together as riduurs as there are stars in the galaxy,” he proposes.

Lightly clinking your glass to his, you beam at Rex. “And may we always find our ways home to one another after any time apart”.

[fielddogs]

All of the shortest characters in the main tftsd campaigns have capes/capelets btw. Including rt d&d

Also less important data but Gus, Barbara, and Chris have all played the shortest character twice (again including rt d&d).. Jon and Blaine always play relatively tall characters...good for them

[ybcpatrick]

FUCK COREY. FUCK RANDY. FUCK CODY. KEVIN OWENS FOREVER I RIDE TIL I DIE MOTHERFUCKER

[sharkgirldick]

which pokemon do you think tastes the best when cooked without any added flavoring? just boiled, baked, or neutral oil sear

Dauchbun.

[troycattribunny]

Nothing is more pathetic than non magical girl fans commenting on the genre. You don't even understand the basic themes shut the fuck up

[thefootnotes]

hey hey hey im not a fan of trump (obviously) but!!!! nobody deserves to die at the hand of gun violence. nobody deserves to die at the hand of anyone else. nobody deserves to die on a public stage, nobody deserves to die at the hands of a political extremist. nobody deserves to be shot to death. not even the literal scum of the earth. nobody deserves to be murdered. and i cant believe that actually has to be said.

[theyodelingsunflower]

What do you call an anarchist that calls another anarchist’s argument a bad one?

Bootlicker.

[wolfpropaganda]

you hate how they got rid of the news crew and replaced them with a go pro in the 10th anniversary edition now... but it’ll all pay off in the 20th anniversary edition when Mirror is just a rogue Alexa

[a-faekindagirl]

seems being a Captain Swan shipper in the Once fandom honed me to be a Polin stan in the Bridgerton fandom.

same 'ol bitter, imature, jealousy-borne dumbassery.

[toomanybandstocare]

{Sweet Whiskey}

Program: There are some people who come into our lives who are meant to be there through the worst and best of times. Their hearts are entwined with one another and beat in rhythm like it's the only why they know how to exist. A connection that makes so completely sense that it causes us to doubt ourselves and our partner.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 4015w

Warnings: Alcohol + bar setting, swearing, heartbreak, drinking when emotionally / mentally unwell, miscommunication kind of? they let their insecurities/fear get the best of them more like it ... I think that's it? Let me know if I missed anything (minus the usual, not edited / work shopped as much as I had hoped)

Camp Resolute Masterlist

Song Request: "You're too sweet for me" {Too Sweet // Hozier}

Counselor Note: For the amazing @starboytech! This is a part of the @cloneficgiftexchange hosted by Ghost - thank you so much for hosting as always. Daisy, I hope you enjoy! I'm sorry it's on the later end of the day. I've been in an absolute rut with all my creative hobbies, so I'm afraid it's not that good. I hope you're doing well, and I was so excited you were my partner for this exchange. I miss our chats and being a part of this community. <3

Post Script: As usual, as much as it terrifies me to write Wolffe - I'm always curious about exploring his character and how to express a vulnerable side to him since he's always conveyed as confident and domineering. I don't know if I achieved well, so may be possibly out of character. And honestly, I'm okay with that. I think for the past year I've been so nervous to write again because I saw and experience first hand how people reacted when their favorite character isn't portrayed how they wanted, and I let that add onto my writer's block. So fuck it - writing is learning how to hone your craft and style. Not everything you or I write will be a masterpiece, and not everyone will enjoy. We're write because we have an itch to communicate what it means to be human through our perspective and how others may view the same experience in a completely different lense.

Shifting your weight on the cool durasteel stool, you take a swift sip of whiskey from the chilled glass in front of you. It kisses your lips with a bittersweet sting, and you let the amber liquid overcome you with little struggle. As you swallow the drink, your gaze sweeps the noticeably larger crowd that surges through the club tonight in a melancholic haze. Your throat constricts in combination of the whiskey’s burn that flares through your system and the all faces who bare too much of a resemblance to the man who left you sitting at this very bar with a broken heart a year ago. Yet after all this time, a pang punches your chest through the walls you’ve built without fail when your mind drifts back to the memories of him.

Everyone, nat-born or clone trooper alike, carry a refreshed air of hopefulness that feeds the electric energy coursing through the club. It weighs down on your weary muscles and sticks to your skin as the air thickens with every new patron who enters 79s. You sink further into the impassive, catatonic stupor you’ve become all too familiar with and avoid anyone’s eye. Fear churns your stomach as you recalculate the odds of anyone recognizing you and the inevitability shoots an arrow of panic through you. Unable to hide from the live reports and battle coverage, the Republic’s latest victory has been impossible to ignore alongside the footage of Commander Wolffe and the 104th battalion who lead the charge. Cries of excitement and cheers ripple through the crowd as club-goers are quick to find their partners for the evening while you cozy up with a bleeding heart from the glimpses of gray armor plates that catch your attention on the opposite side of the bar. The back of your neck stings in an increasing flare of unease. In a bout of potentially misplaced confidence, you swallow the lump of anxiety crawling across your tongue with another sip of whiskey and refuse to cut your evening short. The odds of the battalion choosing 79s as their destination for their night out on the town was unavoidable, but you liked your odds of Wolffe opting out of their celebrations like he used to do a hell of a lot better. A bitter, melancholic laugh wisps past your lips, and you shake your head with another indulgence of the amber liquor. The echo of his words rage and crash against your skull slicing a fresh cut across your heart that catches the alcohol in its wound. Its sting spreads across your chest and makes it difficult to breathe as that night overcomes you.

“This isn’t working”. A low rasp breaks through the uncharacteristically quiet music playing at 79s.

“What? Did they switch whiskey suppliers without consulting you first?” you nervously chuckle. You fiddle with the straw to your fruity cocktail and peer up at Wolffe from across the glass’ edge. The pin pricks that have been present all evening now sting your skin in a sudden alarm. You’ve been clutching onto your rose colored glasses as all the signs seem to have begun to show up over the past few weeks. Insecurity tangles with the adoration you hold for Wolffe as you stand by the commander’s side on nights out when you notice all the glances and giggles sent his way. Out of anyone in the galaxy, he’s chosen to be with you yet you struggle to find your place in his world. Never uttering the fear to Wolffe knowing there are so many more concerns than the irrational thoughts that bite at the back of your mind. “ Maybe they have your beer on rotation. Kiva -” 

“Us, cy’are” Wolffe swiftly interrupts you before you can call the attention of your friend on bartending duty tonight. “We… aren’t working,” he quietly clarifies yet he leaves little room for argument with the stoney expression he struggles to maintain. Wolffe’s gaze scans your face for any reaction in a last act of desperation, and his heart squeezes with the slow realization slipping over your radiant smile. The crease between his brow deepens when your expression stills with a detached vacancy. Stuck looking up at him with eyes - those fucking eyes he searches without fail for in every crowd - void of emotion. Wolffe’s heart thunders against his chest and begs him not to go through with this irrational decision.

Everything around you goes still. The neon lights cut through the tension in the air in a slow haze as other patrons beam and laugh all around you. Nothing goes through your mind as the warning sting ignites into an all consuming inferno of betrayal. Its flames burn through your veins as your breath comes out short and forced. "Why?" you quietly push further.

 Wolffe's expression pinches for a moment. Your determined gaze cuts through him, and Wolffe has to fight the urge to not shudder. For all the hardship and tragedy he's faced, Wolffe has never felt a bone chilling dread like he does standing before you. “We're too different, cy’are” he clips back. The words come out tight as they roll off his tongue with difficulty. Wolffe clutches his glass as your gaze narrows, and he raises the amber drink to take a slow sip. His usually cool bravado cracks under the tension, and he tries to wear a similar mask to avoid revealing the fears that gnaw at the back of his mind. Wolffe bites down the all too familiar wince that accompanies his vice. Not even the sting of whiskey can warm him.

“That's what works best with us. We compliment each other,” you bite back. Your knuckles bleach as you tightly grasp your cocktail glass. “From the minute we’ve met, we’ve always gravitated to each other to the point where everyone asks where the other is if we’re not together. Don’t you dare try to push me away when it’s obvious to ourselves and everyone around us that we’re meant to share our lives together. I know there’s something else going on, so you don’t you fucking bullshit me. I want to be with you, Wolffe, and I know what I’ve signed up for. Nightmares, phantom pains, long distance with no promise of the next time we’ll see each other - I have no reservations about navigating this with you. When everything feels like it’s crumbling underneath you, you without fail come to me to remind yourself that there is some hope left for the galaxy. That there are people who want to see you and your brothers return home. So don’t you dare say we’re too different when all I want is to stand by your side and love you”.

Wolffe lets out an airy chuckle, “You're too sweet for me”. With a control that he no longer believes he possesses, Wolffe places his glass on top of the bar and out of the corner of his eyes he catches how your body stills at his words. Your sudden passion to fight back wavers, and Wolffe lunges at the opportunity with a difficulty he forces down. “You know what you’ve signed up for?” he slowly repeats. “I don’t think you really do, because you’re not the one facing clankers and cannons every day fighting to survive. I spend every single fucking moment of my existence watching my brothers die by my side and sometimes even taking their last breath in my arms,” Wolffe spits out. It takes everything in him to swallow the waver in his voice and allow the pent-up devastation of war to consume him - to weaponize himself against the one person who loves him unconditionally. “While I live in the uncertainty of the next time I'll be planetside, you spend your days disconnected from the sacrifices so many have made to keep the system safe. To keep you safe. I wanted to break things off kindly, but clearly you're so delusional that you can't tell when someone's grown tired of your fantasy. I’m sick and done spending my limited days of freedom playing house to entertain you. I need you to come back from the clouds right fucking now and listen closely. You're, too, sweet, for, me,” Wolffe all but growls. His hand screams in agony as he clutches the empty glass with white knuckles. There's a morbid humor that the crystal-like glass stands strong against his chokehold as his heart shatters in time the tears that softly trail down your face. His chest burns with regret that singes through him as he carves this moment in his memory. Without daring to meet your eyes, Wolffe turns his back on you.

Your glassy gaze stings as you recount that devastating night. You shake your head abruptly while rapidly blinking back the new onslaught of tears and try to collect your shaky breaths. You hastily bring the whiskey glass to your lips and take a sharp gulp. Bitterness blooms over your tongue and overpowers the burning desire for the amber liquor that you normally find solace with. With an elbow on the bar to lean your head on the empty glass, you raise your other hand to pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut. Melancholy and drunken fatigue sit heavy on your shoulders as you fall into the ritual like haze. It's not a storm of emotions that overcomes you. No, that's stopped at the one month mark. In the months after that, your heart began to slow into a dull rhythm that drew out all of life’s vibrancy. Self destruction swiftly wrapped its claws around you and beckoned you into this dark, unfamiliar place. By the six month mark, you stopped struggling against its ghostly touch and sought its company in it rather than your friends'. Not a single one of them could break through to pull you out of this fog as you slipped further and further from them. The silent agreement came into contract after the eighth month when they realized there was very little they could do that would actually help you rather than break you anymore. You would only indulge in your weekly ritual during Kiva’s shift at 79s. Speeder card was left at home as you rode in with him to work, and he would  bring you back to your apartment at the end of the night. A fresh sheet of sheets would always be made up for him, so he could spend the night in your guest room to ensure you were safe.  Should anything alarm him during the night, Kiva would immediately send a message to the group chat and your ritual would come to an early end with a severe reality check.

A dull clunk vaguely registers in the distance as you take a slow breath. “Normally, I'd be in a rush to close out and get us to home,” Kiva murmurs from across the bartop, “but I can wait this one out. Just try to enjoy the company of a person for a change”.

Your eyes flash open, and Kiva's back has already turned away from you before you can even open your mouth to call him back. Cool condensation causes goosebumps to rise over your skin when your hand bumps into a freshly made cocktail, and your attention snaps to the bar top. Your posture stiffens at the sight of what was once your favorite sweet beverage for nights out. Nausea rocks through you as you set your empty whiskey glass next to it with a shaky hand.

“C’yare,” he quietly calls out.

You take a sharp breath. Nearly a year to the date since the last time you heard his voice, and Wolffe still manages to make your skin flush from the pet name alone. But the warmth of past memories and alcohol can’t defend itself from the sudden chill that overcomes your body. An uncomfortable understanding overwhelms you, and his voice rings alarms in your mind once more in a mournful sense of deja vu. 

“Wolffe,” you force yourself to acknowledge.

Dread floods Wolffe, and the skin at the back of his neck stings. He takes a cautious step closer to you - sweeping his gaze over your stiff posture. The sharp glint that catches him from the coroner of your eye reminds him of a wild animal assessing a threat. Wolffe's heart rate spikes, shooting blood to the surface of his skin and burns. Everything is wrong. This is wrong. This is not you. This is not the same sweet love who he adores even with all the guilt and anger he holds for himself from the last time he saw you. “What's happened?" he cautiously asks. Though he already knows the answer, Wolffe holds on to the waning hope that he's wrong. For once in his life - Wolffe desperately wishes for his instincts to mislead him in this moment. 

It could be the remnants of your tipsy haze. It could be the disbelief that punches you to your core. It is most certainly a fucking combination of the two at the very least. Every muscle in your body tenses - ready to pounce. “Excuse you?” you quietly hiss. You narrow your eyes as anger flares through your chest. “What, happened?” you punctuate the words of his question and turn your body to face him dead on. You let your other arm drop to the bartop, avoiding the drink glasses and dig your nails into the cool durasteel. “Did you really care so little for me that you couldn't possibly fathom that your actions have consequences even off the battlefield?” A sickening sense of pride twists inside you at the sight of Wolffe unable to hold back a slight flinch. 

Bile builds at the base of his tongue, and Wolffe carefully slides on to the stool next to yours. Resting an elbow on the bar top, he leans his head on one hand while the other twitches on his thigh. Your stormy gaze holds Wolffe in a suffocating swell. Gliding his tongue across the back of his teeth, he takes a calculated pause before admitting: “I care for you so deeply that I would rather you hate me for the rest of our lives than hurt you. So seeing my cy’are before me as this new person - someone who I can barely piece together just how I was able to recognize - all because of the decision I made in hopes of keeping you safe but actually broke you? I would willingly volunteer for the next no-return assignment, because I cannot live in a galaxy where my sweet love is so bitter - by my marred hand no less”. Wolffe’s chest heaves as his heart crashes against its cage. His skin feels hot from the searing rush of blood cutting him from the inside, and he squeezes his fist on top of his thigh to stop himself from pulling on the collar of his blacks. He doesn't remember when he started to lean closer to you, but as his gaze flickers across your face, Wolffe swallows the lump at the back of his throat. Unease crawls over the stony façade of his usual confidence as the seconds slip by in deafening silence under the pulsing lights. 

A new wave of tears sting at your lash line, but you don't hide them. A part of your past self screams for you to listen and to believe in Wolffe’s words. “Liar,” you hiss. Hope cracks through your hard demeanor, and you desperately want him to prove you wrong.Your former self sobs, and it breaks past your snarl. “Why come back then?” you push further with a watery waver to your voice. “Just to revel in the consequences of your actions? To punish yourself for letting fear break your code of conduct that you so proudly follow on and off the battlefield?”

Wolf bows his head while flexing his hand across the scratched armor. Why is he doing this? Why did he run away from you in the first place? He can't remember a moment in his life where he was so overcome by a flood of emotions like that evening where he couldn't think rationally. Seeing you across the bar tonight as a shell of the person he loves, it felt as if his entire world had been blown to pieces. With a slow exhaled breath, Wolffe dares to look up at you. His stomach knots when he's met with the trails of tears that dance across the plains of your face. The wind is knocked out of his lungs in a sucker-punch when he pulls his gaze to look you in the eye and is met with a glimmer of his cy’are pulling through the broken mask. 

“Because I had hoped I would find you again”, he explains with a steady calmness despite the dizzying rush overcoming him. “For the past year, I laid awake in the dead of night wondering if I had done the right thing. It didn't matter what was happening around me - if I was in my cabin suffocated by silence or surrounded by the onslaught of blaster guns and bombs - I just needed to know that you would be safe and taken care of in a way that I couldn't promise you”. Wolffe pauses for a moment before cautiously reaching out to cup your jaw with his hand. A laugh of disbelief slips past his lips from how even through the thick, ballistic material of his glove he can still feel how soft your skin is beneath his touch. “The next time I saw you, I had hoped you would be tucked under the arm of some nat-born who’d be there for you each day and be able to come home to you every night without worry. In all the scenarios I came up with and constantly replayed in my mind, I never imagined we'd meet again here or like this. But that’s just who we are it seems”. Wolffe pauses to take you in with uncertainty in his eyes and tries to etch every detail of your face into his memory in case this is truly the last time he sees you. “Two very different people who are terrified of losing each other to the point where they push it out of mind until it rears its ugly head and makes us believe the irrational thoughts. So I’m telling you now - pushing you away that night is what keeps me up at night with guilt, and I promise to keep you safe, even from my own fear of losing you, if you’ll let me”.

Tears freely streamed down your cheeks and everything feels too much. Your skin prickles across the entirety of your body all except where Wolffe so carefully cups your jaw. As much as you want to shove him away and to scream at him and to leave him sitting here humiliated like he did with you one year ago - you can't. For the first time in such a long time, you feel things past the passize haze. “All I wanted to do is stand by your side and show you what it feels to experience a gentle love. Even when I was afraid that I wasn’t enough for you, I wanted to push that to the side to focus all my care and attention on us. Those insecurities felt so small in the grand scheme what you had to, and still have to, carry the burden of that I didn’t want to confide in you for the very reasons you used against me. I despise you for what you did to me”, you sob as you let yourself fall into his chest. The moment his arms catch you and envelops you with his body entirely, you let the mask fall completely. One hand clutches your hip and pulls you into Wolffe’s chest and the other rests on your shoulder as he supports you. Your head spins, and for as much as you should try to speak up and continue voicing how you'll need time to heal - you let yourself sink into the near forgotten feeling of comfort. The rods of tension that had cemented into your bones snap, and you press your face into Wolf's neck while wrapping your arms around him. His usual cologne still grounds you while shooting a dizzying sense of happiness through you. “I don't want to keep feeling like this, Wolffe. But I also don't want to let you back in if you're going to just shut me out. I can't do this again - I barely made it through this year. I can't survive another heartbreak so soul shattering. Especially from the same person who's now promised to keep me safe twice now”, you sob. 

Wolffe brings his hand up from your hip to rest at the nape of your neck. He gently sweeps his thumb back and forth as you try to reign in your uneven breathing. A dull throb hammers against your skull and grows at a rapid pace when a fresh wave of troopers cheer nearby and break through your private conversation. You wince, and Wolf glides both of his hands carefully to cover your ears. He moves one hand slightly to lean in close to your ear.

“There are not enough ways for me to express how sorry I am for not making the space for you in our relationship to feel like you could talk to me when you needed me, but I will show you in every possible way because an apology could never give you the justice you deserve for betraying you like that”, he quietly murmurs, “Let me walk you home as the first. I'll write my comlink connection for you, and when you're ready, you can give me a call to continue this conversation. Only if you want to speak to me again - we’ll do this on your terms. Just let me have the privilege to know you got home safely one last time”. 

Your fingertips press harder into his chest plate and trail down to where his blacks peek out between his body and leg armor - yearning to find contact with the man you adore and not the war that’s stolen everything from him. “I still have your com-connect”, you sheepishly admit. “I wasn't ready to say goodbye to you, either in the sense I would call you in a rage demanding … exactly this … or in hopes you would call saying it was a mistake … like this”. You feel the rumble of Wolffe’s chuckle where your chests press close together as the warm fan of breath that tickles the skin just underneath your ear. “I just want to go home, but I don't want to let you go though”. 

Wolf doesn't bother to stop the smile curling at the corner of his lips. He carefully leans into your embrace, and for once he's grateful for the armor separating the two of you as he’s sure that you would have been able to feel his heart crashing against his ribs to try and find its way back to yours. “You're still at the same complex, right?” he asks quietly. Barely catching your hum, Wolffe slowly nods and suggests: “If it's okay with you - and I mean that, only if it’s absolutely okay with you - I could stay in the guest room or on the couch. If it would help you rest easy knowing that I'm not going anywhere. And we can get breakfast to talk through things in the morning, because there's nothing that could keep me from you if you allow me the chance to prove myself to you”. 

You take a sharp inhale and pull yourself away only slightly to meet Wolffe’s soft yet determined gaze.”Promise?” you ask breathlessly.

 “I will live the rest of my life picking up the pieces of you that I broke, and I will stand by you as you learn to be yourself again. I promise, my sweet love, I'm not going anywhere without you”.

[hermioneismyrealname]

There is something about James leaving and Net staying on that is bittersweet. It feels right in a heartbreaking way. James is doing it for himself and Net respects that. Net isnt waiting because he is an actor and this is what he wants to do. It is a new challenge that I cannot wait to support them through.

I, personally saw this coming around new years. Then it just felt even more so at valentine's. I got suspcious when james was in the zomvivor trailer but not at the blessing ceremony.

I was waiting for the series. I will still wait because that's what a fan does. I hope to be able to see them both grow without each other and hopefully not apart from each other. It's a shame, but perhaps they will find even more happiness.