Emotional Damage - Tumblr Posts
hobi and his “if you can read this I must love you to let you this close” beanie
bonus:
“What are you going to name her?” his sister Julieta asks him softly, the corners of her eyes crinkling in concern as she lays a hand on his arm. For a moment, his daughter quiets to stare up at him. There’s only one name that will fit her, that describes what she is to him. “Mirabel,” Bruno croaks. “Mirabel.”
DISA Broken and Unused DISA... 2?
Ah the DISA broken fic....Ever have one of those days where you are just low and wish others could understand the feeling of the same low that you did? Welp, this is what came out in my writing. This part will be a bit long, but, ugh! The feels!
Dwight grabbed his sword and sheathed it in the scabbard on his belt “Come on, I’ll take you home.” He said, automatically. He was so used to escorting her back home. It wasn’t even just making sure she’d make it home safely, he wanted more time with her. He always wanted more time with her.
Gretta began to walk away from him before he could react. “No Sir Dwight, I will take my leave.”
“But, Gretta-” he argued. She turned towards him for a moment, an open palm out. It was a warning for him not to follow.
“I’ll be fine.” She said, trying to suppress the tears she felt coming on. “We will see each other in the morrow, will we not?”
Dwight could only nod his head a little, not knowing if that would honestly be the case.
“Good e’en Sir Dwight.” She said, turning and walking away quickly, hoping her tears would only betray her once she was out of sight.
Gretta pushed ever forward, not daring to look back. Her emotions spiralling between sadness and anger. She knew how she felt about him, but she knew they couldn’t keep being the way they had been. It would make things too dangerous once the real threats arrived at their doorstep.
As she entered the neighborhood, she looked at Dwight’s house up ahead and stopped. She worried in that moment of leaving him in the woods. She couldn’t stop herself from turning around to face from whence she came. It was getting dark, and he was nowhere to be seen following behind her. The emptiness she felt hit her like a tidal wave. He wasn’t there to hold her hand, intertwining with hers. All the special happy moments they shared since she had returned were more than likely at an end. Why would he bother spending any time with her now after what she'd done? She bent down with her hands on her knees, and breathed deeply as every breath since she left Dwight had been shallow. She turned and headed inside her home.
Baldric, and Hexala were looking over some books. Baldric barely got a word in before Gretta had rushed up the stairs.
“Welcome home yo-” Baldric started, and she was already out of sight, heading up to her chambers. Baldric quickly ran to the bottom of the steps “Princess, are you not well? Where is Sir Dwight?” He didn’t hear an answer, all he heard was her chamber door slam. He wasn’t used to dealing with situations like this with Gretta. He walked back over to the counter where Hexala watched Baldric, hoping he’d have an answer of what just happened. Baldric shrugged and looked at Hexala, wondering if it was best if she talked to Gretta. He was just about to open his mouth to ask when his phone started ringing.
“My beckoning instrument is ringing.” He noticed it was Dwight and flipped it open. “Yes sir Dwight?”
“Hey, uh, did... did Gretta make it home okay?” Dwight asked, not sounding much of his normal self.
“Uh, Yes she made it home safely. I had presumed you would’ve accompanied her?” There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a moment.
“She.. wouldn’t let me.” Dwight said weakly.
“Oh.” Baldric felt a bit helpless in the situation. “Well Sir Dw-”
“Can you just tell her I’ll see her tomorrow?” He asked quickly, hinting not wanting to talk any more.
“I will see to it personally Sir Dwight, good e’en.”
“Goodnight” Dwight said.
Baldric clapped his phone shut and gave out an exasperated sigh, joining Hexala at the counter.
“What happened?” Asked Hexala.
“Madam, all I know is I have now conversed with a very unhappy champion and the princess has flown to her quarters the moment she arrived. I am undone with these two.” Said Baldric, worried. “I thought I would be prepared for everything to help the princess through her life. No one prepared me for this scenario.”
“Maybe they just got into their first quarrel? Just let me whip up a spell for them. I could even do a love spell, it would make it so much easier. It won’t even cost a body part!” Hexala said. Baldric looked at her, slightly annoyed at the notion. He remembered what her enchantment and love spells were capable of.
“No, I can’t let you do that.” Baldric said.
Hexala pouted at him “You’re no fun.”
She noticed the worry in Baldric’s eyes, not knowing if it was for Gretta, Dwight, or both. She put her hand on Baldric’s for comfort as he sat there thinking of anything he could do to help. “Both of them have been through so much together. You and I know even at our age real love can be messy. They are just starting to feel all these different things from being only friends a short time ago. Those two are only just starting to see that, give them time. The most we can do if you don’t want any magic involved is to just help them through this.” Hexala said.
“I do not understand how I ever deserved you.” Said Baldric, holding Hexala’s hand and kissing it. Baldric was back in thoughts, he couldn’t help but worry about them both. Dwight had kept his word and not ever let them down before. He hoped now things would not change. Baldric didn’t want to admit it as much as he wanted to, but they had both changed each other’s lives for the better.
“Sir Dwight is her champion. He’s destined for great things at princess Gretta’s side. The Queen wouldn’t have entrusted me to have him awaken her again if that was not meant to be.” Baldric said.
“We know from returning that not everything may play out the same way it did before.” Hexala said.
“Are you saying fate may not side with them?” Baldric asked “I hope that is not the case.”
“Nor I.” Said Hexala “What shall we do?” Baldric put his hand on Hexala’s and tapped it gently and looked into her worried eyes.
“For now, hope my fair maiden. Hope there is a calm in the midst, or at least a calm for my nerves.”
Dwight was lost in thought as his feet carried him out of the forest. He had made a call to Baldric to be sure Gretta had made it home safely before he even departed from the forest clearing. He didn’t want to upset Gretta any further by catching up with her. He'd gone through so many emotions in their parting conversation. Dwight knew that eventually, he would have to set these feelings aside, he was still her champion. He still had to be there for her, he just didn’t know if that was what Gretta wanted, not anymore.
When he reached his front door, he unbuckled the sword fastened to his waist. He entered, hoping Nana was in her room. He felt a bit of relief hearing her in the kitchen. He put his scabbard down with the belt near the door sitting up. He attempted to sneak upstairs to be left alone. As he ascended the first step of the landing, the scabbard fell over with a clang.
“Dwight is that you?” Nana called out from the kitchen.
“Uh.. yeah Nana.” Said Dwight running upstairs. He was already dreading the next question she was going to ask.
“How was your d-” She said coming out of the kitchen, not seeing Dwight but hearing him quickly shuffle up the steps.
When he entered his room, he realized how much of a mistake he made going in. He was most likely better off anywhere but there. He sat on his bed a moment, surrounded by reminders almost as an onslaught. The scrying pool chart still on the easel, the stuffed tiger, the medal hanging up, a scrapbook Dwight was making of all their dates together.
He looked at the easel and he felt something bubble up to the surface, an emotion he rarely ever felt. As he balled up his fists he realized what it was, it was anger. He was normally good at channelling all the negative energy and using it instead for figuring out a fix for a problem. He couldn’t find a solution, not now, not when he felt completely helpless. The situation that got them to this point was the reset. He cursed Hammond, even though he was already gone. Because of him, Gretta had to go into the scrying pool and both of them had to start again. Everything had changed in that moment. Everything was happening differently and all that chaos did nothing but throw their growing relationship into more of it. The only good to come of it was that he made the choice himself this time to be her champion. Dwight grabbed a hold of one side of the big paper pad on the easel and pulled it down. The chart ripped as the pad and easel came tumbling down with a loud clatter. His anger dissipated quickly as if ripping the paper had vanquished the worst of foes. All that remained was the tears he started blinking away. He slumped and sat on his bed with his head in his hands.
Nana opened his door and saw him sitting there, staring at the floor where the easel was. “Honey, are you okay?” Nana asked walking over and sitting next to him on the bed. She put her hands on his shoulders and he looked at her. His eyes were glossy, as he wiped his face with his sleeve.
“I...don’t.. know.” Dwight said, putting his head on Nana’s shoulder. “I think me and Gretta broke up.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Nana asked.
“I just don’t get it, what I did wrong.” Dwight said. “How is it that I’m so happy when I’m with her? So happy and relieved I could tell her how I felt, but now a part of me feels so sad, all in the same day?” Dwight asked Nana, with a look that told her he wanted a legitimate answer.
“Oh Dwight honey, I think, that’s just a part of being in love with your best friend.” Nana said. Dwight gave out an exasperated sigh
“Being in love sucks.” said Dwight, letting a few tears fall from his cheek.
Nana wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his arm gently for comfort.
“I know things might seem like it’s at the worst, but it’s not. Just give it time for both of you. It might get better. Not everything has to happen right now.”
“She gave up on us so easily, after everything that’s happened between us. I hoped after all the time we’ve had together since she came back, it would mean something.”
“I’m sure it does Dwight. People deal with love in their own way. Not everyone wants to jump in head first like you have. She might be a princess, but she’s not like ones from the fairy tale books I used to read to you as a kid.”
“No, she really isn’t” Said Dwight sniffling. -----------------------------------------------------------------------
She had found the scrapbook that Dwight had started working on. As she flipped through the pictures, she realized it was to keep all the memories of their past dates originally. Somehow it seemed all wrong. It caused her stomach and heart to twist into knots. The romance was gone. The photo book had their fun at the carnival immortalized by raffle tickets and a picture he had printed out of them together on the Ferris wheel. She fell onto the page including the dance, which was what cut into her possibly the most. He had placed the pictures of them from the photo booth on it, save one, the one where they'd kissed. He was trying his best to hide all the memories of their once fleeting romance just so he could maybe salvage their friendship, and possibly heal some of his heartache. She couldn’t help but picture all the momentos he had in his room, thinking of them all gone and locked away somewhere just so they would be out of sight and out of mind. She flipped through the last pages, which contained movie tickets and dried flowers of the little ones he’d love to pick and place in her hair. At the back of the book there was an envelope in one of the holders with her name on it. A letter? She pulled it out and opened it, secretly hoping this wasn’t some sort of letter saying goodbye.
Gretta, I just want you to know that what happened the other day, it hasn’t changed my mind with anything I’ve said. I’m not going anywhere.
I know it might take a while before things might feel normal again between us. You might still not even want to talk to me anymore after this. I just wanted you to know that whether you feel the same way I do one day or not, I’ll be here. Because if i wasn't, what kind of best friend is that? What kind of champion is that?
Her eyes welled up with tears. After all she had put him through, he still couldn’t give up. He still wanted her in his life. She’d seen other knights flee for less. She dropped the note and before it even hit the floor, Gretta was outside heading to his house. She rang the door bell barely able to stand still. She didn’t know what she would do or say, but she needed to see him. She knocked on the door a few times and no answer. She tried to peer into the window, but it looked like there was no sign of anyone in. She turned around, and tried to calm herself. If she did see Dwight, what would he think of her looking in such a state at his door. She tried her best to wipe her tears away.
“Gretta?” She heard the voice she needed to hear. She looked up and noticed him coming up the sidewalk on his bike. He instantly stopped not far from her house. He dropped his bike not caring about the bike stand. He unfastened his helmet and let it drop to the ground. She ran to him, carrying too many emotions with her. She ran up to him and gave him a slap across the face, possibly harder than she had planned.
“Ow! What was that for?” He asked, rubbing his cheek in shock. He saw the tears well up in her eyes in that moment. He needed to do something. Instead of him moving, she closed the distance between them quicker than he could react and put her head against him.
“You selfless, stupid, poop nutty!” She said beating on his chest calling him all the names she could think of. All of her frustration she had with herself was coming out in that instant. Dwight didn’t stop her, he just took it in stride not caring of the bruises that would likely appear later. He put his arms around her and tightened his embrace.
“It’s okay Gretta. It’s okay.” He said, gently running his hands through her hair. Her hits became weaker and weaker until they stopped and she wept into his shoulder. “I’m here.” He held her tightly as her arms wrapped around him. Neither of them letting go until Gretta’s sobbing had slowed. Dwight held her tightly and slowly swayed her to help soothe her. When everything stopped he held onto her for a few moments more just to make sure everything had eased.
“Are you better now?” He asked her. He felt her head nod yes against him. He put his hands on her shoulders to pull her from the embrace. It wasn’t that he wanted to release her from their hug, he just wanted to see her to make sure she was okay.
“Gretta I’m so sorry.” He said. “I never meant for this to happen.”
“I know.” Gretta said. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Can I have my best friend back? I miss her.” Dwight said, trying his hardest to stop the lump in his throat forming. “So much.”
“As long as it means I can have mine back too.” She said, trying not to start crying again.
Unused DISA 2 is mostly a jumble of different things but this is a part i hope to either rephrase or use in something.
He was someone who had found a way into her heart and was breaking down her walls within. She waited for the warnings, the same ones that used to practically shout at her only a short while ago, that being this close to her knight would be dangerous. But as their kiss deepened, she knew that if they were there at all, they were now only a faint whisper. She had already ignored the warnings for far too long. It was too late for her. If she was meant to perish by his side, then so be it.
I write this at the very start of the year, come back many months later and like 220 people have read it.
on isat act 5 and oof ouch it hurts
my kink is edward teach being vulnerable and in love oops
No joke I was on the verge of crying immediately after I heard this 😭
STREAM DARL+ING OR ELSE 👀👀😊💖
𖧷
Commander Mayday illustration by @nika6q
A Match for Mayday: Chapter 2
Editor's note: This fic is a collaboration between @nika6q (artwork) and @dystopicjumpsuit (story)
Pairing: Mayday x Flower Farmer Reader
Rating: T
Wordcount: 2.5k
Warnings and tags: fluff and mild angst
A/N: dedicated to @nika6q ❤️🩹
Read Chapter 1 here!
After another day of dirty, sweaty work, you hurry through your shower and grab two bottles of beer out of the conservator, opening them quickly and heading to the front porch for your nightly rendezvous. Mayday hasn’t arrived yet, which is a first, so you settle in to wait for him. The sun dips lazily below the horizon, lighting up the sky in brilliant shades of pink and gold, and then fading into a lavender haze, and finally darkening to a field of deep blue dappled by brilliant points of light as the stars blink into view. You finish your beer slowly, and then drink the second as well, wishing you hadn’t opened it so hastily earlier.
It’s surprising and a little alarming how quickly you’ve adopted your evening conversations with Mayday into your daily routine, and how much you miss it tonight. You can’t help but wonder, What will I do when he leaves?
Eventually, once the evening has fully transitioned to night, you stand with a sigh, stretching your tired muscles and making your way into the house. You can’t stay up and wait forever; tomorrow will be another hard day’s labor, and you are already exhausted. Everyone else has already gone to bed, and the house is as quiet as it can possibly be considering the sheer number of clones currently sleeping in your guest bedrooms.
Just as you turn off your bedroom light and settle into bed, you hear the sound of an approaching speeder bike. You rarely receive guests, particularly not in the middle of the night, so you hop out of bed and cross to your window to peek outside. The vehicle slows to a halt in front of your garden, and the rider dismounts and leans against the bike.
Mayday. You recognize him immediately. He stares contemplatively at the garden for a while, and then he turns his head and looks directly at you. His movement startles you, and you nearly flinch away from the window before you realize that you are standing in total darkness and there is no way he can see you watching him. Can he?
He stares at your window for a long, long time, until at last, he straightens and walks into the house. You don’t hear him enter, and you don’t hear him go to his bedroom, and at last, you return to your bed and will yourself to sleep, ignoring the quiet voice in your head that asks where he had gone. It’s none of my business, you think, and you almost convince yourself.
Rain begins to fall in a steady drizzle the next morning. By noon, the weather is miserable enough to chase everyone indoors. Hexx and Sunni, enthusiastic hosts that they are, round up the rest of the clones for a loud game with incredibly complex rules. You scan the group but don’t see Mayday, so you slip quietly out the door while they’re all distracted. As you make your way to the barn, you hear a rhythmic scraping sound that piques your curiosity. Warm light spills out of the open doors, beckoning you in from the cold, gray rain.
The barn hasn’t housed animals in decades. Instead, you use it to store your farm equipment and agricultural droids when they’re not at work, and as a place to dry the flowers that you sell in the off-season. The familiar botanical aroma washes over you as you enter, along with something new—something at once strange and nostalgic. When you see Mayday, you slow to a halt just inside the barn.
He has set up a workstation at the open end of the barn, and as you watch, he runs a hand planer over a large beam of lumber, shaving off flimsi-thin curls of pale wood that flutter to the ground. You immediately identify the fresh lumber as the source of the unknown scent. That slow, rhythmic rasping sound comes again and again as you watch him work, and something about it sends tingles down the back of your neck.
Mayday hasn’t spotted you yet, and you take a moment to appreciate the confident way he moves. His bare hands glide over the wood as he feels for rough and uneven spots, and the muscles of his forearms flex and bulge as he drags the planer across the surface. His movements are hypnotic, mesmerizing. He handles the wood with scrupulous care and attention, and you feel a brief, ridiculous surge of envy toward an inanimate object. He stills abruptly, and you raise your eyes from his hands to see him watching you.
“Hello,” you say, feeling a little foolish that he caught you gawking.
He doesn’t look angry, though, or even amused. He regards you with the same intense focus that he had directed toward his project only a moment before. You lick your lips reflexively, and his gaze drops to your mouth and then back up to your eyes.
“I came to see if you wanted to come in out of the rain,” you say, feeling a little proud that you managed to get the entire sentence out without stuttering, even if your voice catches suspiciously.
He looks briefly out the door to the torrential deluge. “I didn’t even realize it had started raining.”
“It’s been raining for hours,” you say. “Aren’t you cold?”
He smiles at that. “This is nothing compared to Barton IV.”
“What happened on Barton IV?” you ask.
“Nothing good,” he replies. “We were lucky to make it out alive. If I never see snow again, it will be too soon.”
“You should be safe from snow here,” you reply. “Even in the winter, we rarely get anything more than rain. It’s what makes Nakadia such an ideal agricultural planet.”
Ugh, am I seriously talking about the weather right now? you chastise yourself. Still, Mayday looks intrigued as he arranges his tools neatly and walks across the barn to join you.
“Where are the others?” he asks.
“They’re all inside playing a game,” you reply.
“I’ve never been one for games,” he comments offhandedly.
“Me neither,” you say. “But I’ve also never been one for standing out in the rain when there’s a perfectly warm house available.”
“We’re not standing in the rain,” he points out, moving subtly closer to you, close enough that you can smell the vanillin of the sawdust on his shirt; the salt of his skin; and beneath it, the faintest hint of something spicy and warm and a little smoky—something uniquely Mayday.
“True,” you admit.
He frowns and starts to reach for you before pulling back. “But you were. Your hair and clothes are all wet. You should go inside and get warm and dry.”
“Will you come with me?” you ask. He hesitates, and you scramble to add, “We can go in the back and avoid the crowd if you’d rather.”
“Is there somewhere we can go where they won’t find us and drag us into their game?” he asks with a smile.
You shrug. “It’s a big house. I’m sure we can find something.”
“Lead the way,” he replies.
On impulse, you take his hand and tug him along with you, dashing across the field through the downpour. Mayday follows at a more sedate pace, and he slows you down as his fingers tighten around your hand to keep you from slipping away.
“Don’t you know you know you get wetter when you run in the rain?” he asks, his voice laden with amusement.
“But we’ll be out of it and into the warm house sooner this way,” you laugh. “Come on!”
He allows you to hustle him along, and soon the two of you slip quietly into the back of the house and kick off your muddy boots. Uproarious laughter bursts from the front of the house, signaling that the game is still in full swing. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you lead him down the hallway and duck into a room, easing the door closed behind you. You turn to see Mayday surveying the room with astonishment.
“What is this place?” he asks.
“It’s my reading room,” you reply.
His eyes widen as he takes in the bookshelves that line the walls; the soft, overstuffed armchairs; the small wood stove that crackles cheerfully in the corner.
“I’ve never seen so many books in one place,” he says. “At least, not paper ones.”
“Holonovels are wonderful, but there’s something so comforting about a physical book,” you say by way of explanation. “I started collecting them when I was little, and I just never stopped.”
“Have you read them all?” he asks curiously.
You laugh. “I intend to read them all, but I have to admit, there’s an embarrassingly large stack of them waiting for me to find the time. You’re welcome to anything that catches your eye, though.”
His gaze flicks almost imperceptibly toward you before he turns to examine the contents of the shelves. “Which one is your favorite?”
“That would be like asking me to pick a favorite child,” you reply. “I can’t choose just one.”
“Humor me.” His voice is a low rumble.
You pull a well-worn volume off a shelf, and then another, and another. Mayday chuckles as you pass them to him.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through all of these in the time I have left here.”
“You can take them with you, if you’d like,” you offer. “You can give them back at the wedding.”
“You’d trust me with them?” he asks.
You think of the care with which he handled the fire lily, the conscientiousness and respect you witnessed as he worked on the planks of hardwood in the barn.
“Yes,” you say without hesitation.
His hair is wet with rain. A strand has fallen forward, and you raise your hand to brush it out of his eyes, but he stops you, his hand wrapping gently around your wrist.
“Don’t.”
Startled, you meet his eyes. They blaze with intensity, but he steps back to put a little distance between you.
“Mayday?” you whisper.
“Don’t do something we’ll both regret,” he says quietly.
“Sorry,” you stammer as mortification floods you. You pull away from him. “I’ll go.”
He doesn’t try to stop you as you retreat and close the door behind you. You hurry to your bedroom, pressing your cold hands against your burning cheeks. How could I have misread the situation so badly? No wonder he would have preferred to stay in the barn.
You don’t bother going to the porch that night. With all the rain, there’s no sunset, anyway.
It’s easy enough to avoid Mayday after that. He keeps to the barn, and you have plenty of work to do elsewhere. You miss watching the sunset each night, but it’s a small sacrifice for your peace of mind. Before many days pass, the wedding preparations are complete. The rest of the wedding party arrives, and your farmhouse is absolutely at capacity, but at least by tomorrow everyone will be gone and you’ll have your farm to yourself again until the wedding day. All that remains now is the rehearsal.
It is awkward as kriff. You subtly keep your distance from Mayday as long as possible, forcing yourself not to look at him. You try to focus on literally everything else: the wedding planner, Sunni’s lovely dress, the way Hexx’s eyes light up when he looks at her, the excited chatter of the other bridesmaids. Anything except him. He doesn’t approach you, either, so at least that makes your life infinitesimally easier, even though it stings.
Unfortunately, you can’t evade him forever, and as the wedding planner hustles the bridal party into position, you brace yourself for impact. Mayday moves to stand beside you, and you meet his eyes briefly. He looks so kriffing handsome, it’s unfair. The late afternoon sunshine glints in his dark curls and lights his eyes in shades of gold. You paste a bland, polite smile on your face as he holds out his hand to take yours. You walk down the makeshift aisle on Mayday’s arm—maid of honor and best man, as bad luck would have it. That unmistakable warm, spicy, smoky Mayday scent washes over you, and you breathe shallowly as you try to ignore it. It’s a simple ceremony, thank the Force, because you are too distracted by trying to appear nonchalant to pay much attention to the officiant’s instructions.
The ceremony is set to take place with the expansive fields of flowers as a backdrop, and at the entrance to the garden, a gorgeous wooden archway has been constructed. You realize with a start that this is what Mayday has been building since he arrived. The workmanship is stunning. Up close, you can see that the entire structure has been crafted to fit together so perfectly that it requires no screws or fasteners.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Sunni sighs happily.
You nod, unable to speak.
“I had him install it permanently as a thank you for letting us have our wedding here,” she says with a radiant smile. “Our gift to you.”
Your breath catches as Sunni envelops you in a crushing hug. Wonderful. A perpetual reminder of how badly I messed up with him. Just what I needed.
By supreme force of will, you make it through the rehearsal and the dinner party afterward. The food is beautiful and by all accounts delicious, and you don’t taste a single bite as you eat. After the meal, the group dances and drinks and parties late into the night as tiny lights twinkle in the trees overhead. Veetch pulls you onto the dancefloor and spins you around until you are giggling and dizzy, and for a moment, the ache in your chest eases.
Mayday doesn’t dance, to the visible disappointment of several bridesmaids. He is wrapped up in a discussion with a few other clones—also commanders, if you remember the introductions correctly. You refuse to give into your impulse to eavesdrop on their conversation, instead smiling brilliantly at Veetch, who is both charming and a surprisingly excellent dancer. The music changes to something slow and romantic, and he pulls you closer and settles a hand on your waist.
Because you are not totally devoid of common courtesy, you focus on your dance partner instead of looking back at Mayday. Had you looked, though, you would have seen the way his eyes, unreadable as ever, follow you across the dancefloor as you sway in Veetch’s embrace. Veetch flirts in a harmless, meaningless way that you know better than to take seriously, even if you were interested. Everything about him screams that he’s enjoying the single life and has no intention of giving it up any time soon.
So you dance with him and with Hexx’s other groomsmen, and by the time you stumble, alone, into your bedroom, you are so exhausted that you fall asleep almost immediately. When you awaken, nearly everyone has gone. Hexx and Sunni are still there, but Sunni tells you that Mayday had ordered the men to wake up early and ensure the house was spotless before they departed. Sunni and Hexx only stay long enough to hug you goodbye before they, too, leave for Coruscant, and then you are alone.
"Hey luv"
Ghost's voice came in from the other side of the phone, as deep and sweet as usual. As gentle as it always would be when it came to you.
To others he was a strong soldier. A big brother and role model to the recruits and a friend to his mates.
To his enemies he was a horrifying man who stopped at nothing when it came to achieving his goal. Burning down and killing anyone who stood in his way
To you he was a sweet and funny man who stopped at nothing to see you smile and laugh around him.
"Hi, Si"
You smiled as you heard his voice, knowing that you only had 5 minutes before he went onto his mission.
He let out a hearty chuckle at the nickname, feeling your smile from the other side of the phone
"How have you been?"
"Good, just finished cleaning the house."
You answered quickly throwing away the wipes you used to clean the countertops, the trash can making a loud sound as it closed.
"That's great. Miss your pretty face. Still smiling, yeah?"
You smiled bigger, getting slightly flustered as you tried to think of something to say back.
"Miss you too, when will you be back?"
".. I love you a lot, no matter how far away I am. Y'know that yeah?"
He showed you love in many ways but almost never did he outright tell you he loved you. He showed in acts of service and sometimes physical touch if he had a rough week.
"I love you too, si. Everything okay?"
"Yeah luv, everything's fine. Just needed you to know I love ya. Mission'll be a while"
"Oh alright, I'll let you go now. I'll see you when you get back :)"
And with that he hung up.
But little did you know the mission would be his last.
Thank you for the tag @sapphirelakemanor
I have watched the Redo of Healer and that anime is just…..WTH, but the one anime that I really regret watching out of curiosity was Boku no Pico, ITS SO WEIRD, compared to other boys love anime I have seen that one just messes with me the most and I regret watching it even when my friends warned me not to. To be honest I feel like scenes from certain anime have given me more damage then the whole anime itself like the bunny scene from Re Zero😱😱😨😨, that scene have me nightmares for days
Not a lot of manga or manwha have given me emotional damage yet but it may happen sooner or later
Tagging: @mlk082 , @glass-cage-of-emotion-12 , @rosieroxy117 , @kalims , @justxprettyxboys , @knights-escort
OKAY!
QUESTION TIME!!!
Q: What anime show/ manwha(and/or manga) that you regret watching it due to a recommendation of someone you know or look it up out of Pure curiosity?
I will go first: To be honest: There is a very SEXUAL anime that I watch..out of curiosity..Umm..I wanna gouge my eyes out every time I watch Redo of Healer..I had to think about why..I did that.. and now the manga/manwha..Dark Fall is good..a little..MESSED UP but it’s cute..I like the werewolf boy..He is adorable~….Never..NEVER read that BL Manwha called Obey Me…Curiosity did kill me..and I have PURE Mental DAMAGE and..
I need some therapy..Cause my soul died and my brain cells just died as well..just thinking about the…OKAY! It’s your turn to answer it.
Now you don’t have to answer this question. This is opinion based and trust me..there’s some anime shows, anime movies, manga/manwha can give you emotional and mental damage(Mostly Emotional damage so..)
Tags: @cupids-chamber @kitty-is-chilling @sakuramidnight15 @raix-lv @riddlesimp @riddle-simp (I got two riddle simps for some reason..Not judging) @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer (I believe either Havoc or Apple told the server to support you so here I am!) @arleccine @aphrodites-letters and everyone who wants to join. Bc these people..are the best. TRUST ME.
19 year old luffy meets his crew before the time skip
(after 'skypiea' but before 'water seven')
Thanks Merliiqi for your idea for this special
just rewatched 20th century girl.
yes, i do indeed make bad decisions.
OK CAN WE LIKE TALK ABOUT HOW RHEY CRUCIFIED MY BOY AND THEN I LISTEN TO THEIR GL PLAYLIST AND LIKE THE THIRD SONG IS CRUCIFIED. IM SOBBING.
in another universe hosea walked abigail down the aisle when she married john
Thinking about Dorian again and the way he always asks for clarification ( "Tell us." "If you tell me exactly what to do." "Say it again but slower. What do I tell them?"), looks for direction ("I don't know why I keep looking at Orym." "I look to Orym like I always have for direction") and is so critical of every (actually very smart and helpful) move on the battlefield. Always sells himself short. Never dares to praise himself. Only when directly challenged in the heat of the moment. How he is so desperate for his father's trust and so so scared to mess up. Now more than ever. He had his whole life planned out for himself and now he is the only one left. A leader who has to be powerful and sure of himself. No other choice.
I.... I just
the pain of knowing the difference between attractive and desirable
I hate him
I hate him for this so much
I have a strong feeling that before Hob found Andhera in the library, he was just ripping up the goblin tent trying to find a letter, the letter from Rue. My man has been stressed and pressed trying to figure out what the hell he missed for a while before just going head first into his problem... like a king of uncertainty
Ps is it just me who thought he would wear a traditional billowing white undershirt with like a thot slit to show his chest after the forsaking of the Goblin court, not full nakey
When Butterfly reign gets an update