#I have to also give myself a breather as well lmao

[varpusvaras]

It takes them all a little adjusting. 

That first night, when they put Leia to bed, Bail looks at her a little hesitantly.

“Could you ask your Buir something?” He asks her, to which Leia rolls her eyes at him.

“Buir can hear you just fine”, she says, “it’s you who can’t hear him.” 

Bail blinks. Fox gives Leia a look. 

“That was not nice, Leia.” 

Leia turns to him, sheepish. 

“I’m sorry, Buir.” 

“Thank you. Now apologise to your Papa.” 

“I’m sorry, Papa.” 

“Thank you”, Bail says. He both sounds and looks somewhere between slightly confused and very amused. “Well, then. Fox, would you like to sit down with us later tonight?” 

Fox can’t help but smile.

“Of course”, he says. 

— — — 

Fox hums Leia to sleep. 

Then, when Bail and Breha walk out the bedroom, he follows them. 

They sit down on the couch in the living room, a little apart from each other, and Breha gestures at the space between them. 

Fox sits. 

There is a moment of hesitant silence. Bail and Breha look at the space between them where Fox is, and then at each other. There is something different in the way they now search for him with their eyes. It looks less like they’re trying to find him, and more like they are trying to draw the outlines of him in their minds, to make him properly fit into the space they have given him. 

Then, they talk. 

The Guard had given them his body after his death. His brothers had still held love high enough for him, even with the chips in their heads stripping them of the rest of their choices, that they had thought giving Fox away to be buried and remembered by the people who had welcomed him into their family was the kindest thing to do for him.

“We buried you in your armor”, Breha tells him. “You had told us before that there weren’t any strict customs for burials among your brothers, with how many of you died in so many different ways, but we thought that it was the closest thing we could do, to honor all of them as well.” 

She takes a moment before speaking again. 

“We buried you covered with the thickest blanket we had in the entire Palace”, she says, her eyes misting over. “It’s not really a custom for us, but we..I just couldn’t bear the thought of you being cold.” 

He is not. Fox has not been cold in a very, very long time now, and he thinks the him in the grave hasn’t been either. 

Bail continues after her. 

“We know we didn’t have the chance to get married before we lost you”, he says. “But that is still who you are to us, what place you hold here, even if it didn’t have the chance to come true while you were alive. You will always be part of this family. You will always be an Organa.” 

Fox should have not ever even doubted it, doubted his place with them, even when he is not there. 

He feels like a fool for ever doing so. 

They talk some more, about things that have happened between Fox’s death and this moment. It’s still not a proper conversation, and at some points, Fox feels a bit frustrated by his inability to say things back to them, but they are talking to him now. It’s the best thing he can get, he knows that. 

Then, there is another moment of hesitation, where Bail and Breha look at each other again.

Fox knows they are about to say something important. 

He just had no way to prepare himself for what they were about to tell him. 

“Leia is the daughter of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala”, Bail says, and Fox’s mind is thrown spiraling into a vortex. 

“She has a brother”, Breha continues, not giving Fox enough time to take it all in. “Obi-Wan is looking after him. They needed to be separated, so the Emperor wouldn’t find them.” 

That is the thing that makes Fox refocus quickly. 

He thinks of Sidious, his cruel eyes and sharp, cold smiles and laughs, of the cold, ravaging darkness of his mere presence. He thinks of his blade-like fingers wrapping around Leia’s small body and twisting her until there is nothing left to be recognised, and even in death, he feels fear seizing his heart like he is being shot through it. 

Then he thinks of the hulking, black mass of machine and man, the crushing pain long gone shooting through Fox’s body once again, and at that point, the realisation of what they had told him truly sets in. 

“Please”, Breha says, looking at Fox, looking at him so earnestly that once again, Fox almost thinks that she can truly see him there, even if it’s only inside her own mind. “Please, look after her.” 

She shouldn’t have to have even asked. 

For the longest time, Fox had thought that he was being punished, by having him walk amongst the living as an invisible shadow, being forced to see what his mistakes had brought upon the Galaxy. 

Not anymore. 

Fox now knows he is here because he has a duty to fulfill. 

He knows they can’t hear him. 

“I will”, he promises to them, still. 

He thinks they know, though, even without being able to hear him say it. Breha extends her hand to him and holds it steady, letting Fox hold on to it. Bail tilts his shoulder down a little, and Fox rests his head against it. 

They stay there like that for a long time.

— — — 

“Leia”, Fox calls to her the next morning. 

She looks up at him questioningly. 

There are a lot of things Fox could say to her, but she is still so young and so small, so he decides to just say one very simple thing. 

“I will always be here for you”, he tells her. “Remember that, alright?” 

She smiles at him. 

“I will”, she says, and then grabs his hand. “I love you, Buir.” 

Fox holds onto her hand. 

“I love you too”, he tells her.

— — — 

It takes them all a little adjusting. 

Sometimes Leia forgets that Bail and Breha cannot hear or see Fox, and she forgets to say the things Fox asks her to. Sometimes Bail and Breha will start to speak and then stop, and look at Leia for confirmation that Fox is still there and can hear what they are saying. 

Sometimes they still search for him where Fox is not, and there is an old grief etched into their eyes. 

Fox doesn’t think it will ever truly leave them.

Still, every now and then, they will hold out their hands and keep them steady, and Fox will hold onto them and run his thumb across their knuckles. Still, every now and then, after Fox has taken it upon himself to always stand at a particular spot at their side, they will lean towards him and whisper something that is meant only for him. 

Still, every night, after Fox has hummed Leia to sleep, they will make room for him on their bed, and Fox will lay down next to them, and he will press his head against their chests and listen to their heartbeats drumming on beneath their skin.

Still, Fox is there, and he is loved, even when he is gone. 

— — — 

Bail is looking at Leia. 

Leia is looking right back at him. 

Bail breaks first. 

“Leia”, he starts, gently, “I know that your lessons are not always the most…exciting, but you still cannot just leave them and go to the forest all by yourself.” 

Leia sticks her chin up defiantly. 

“I wasn’t all by myself”, she says. “Buir was there too.” 

Bail looks away from her to his left, where Fox is standing. 

Fox doesn’t even have to say anything, and Bail doesn’t even have to see him. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t really ask your Buir, and that he had no choice but to follow you?” Bail asks. 

Leia drops her chin. 

“He was still there, though”, she says, and Bail, with his soft heart for her, cannot help himself. 

He laughs.

“Of course he was”, he says. “He is always here. Now, come on. I’m afraid you still have to attend the rest of your lessons, young Lady.” 

He holds out his hand, and even though Leia pouts a little, she still grabs it. 

Bail doesn’t hold out his hand for Fox, because he and Breha both know by now that Fox has difficulties in holding onto them when they move. Instead, he bends his elbow, and Fox holds onto his arm, anchoring himself to him more securely so he doesn’t slip. 

It takes them all a little adjusting, but Fox knows they will get there, together. 

— — — 

Fox knows about the Rebellion. 

Of course he knows. He has been all over the Galaxy. It didn’t take long for the resistance against the Empire to rise. In fact, Fox thinks it had been there even before the Empire. 

He isn’t surprised when he hears about the clones leaving the Empire, either. He had known that it was always going to happen, one way or another. He had just thought that it would’ve been solely by the Empire tossing them out, after they had run their course with them. 

He is surprised, when one night Bail asks him to come sit with them, and in hushed tones, tells him that the chips have stopped working, that Fox’s brothers are themselves again, that they are ready to fight, once again. 

Fox goes to bed with them, and when they are both asleep, he leaves. 

He finds Cody alone, sitting in the hull of an old wreck of a ship, his armor painted grey and his head hanging low. 

Fox looks him in the eyes and sees nothing but regret. 

He reminds Fox of himself, and Fox hates that. 

“Cody”, he calls, and for the first time in a while, Fox grows angry about his voice not reaching him. “Cody!” 

Cody doesn’t hear him. Of course he doesn’t. 

Still, Fox grabs him by his shoulders and he shakes him, even though he doesn’t have the power to actually move him. 

“Get up!” Fox screams at him. “Get up! You are alive! You are alive and you can still fight! Get up! Get up and go fight!” 

Cody doesn’t move. Fox puts his hands into his hands and just screams some more. 

It helps a little, at least enough that when Fox lifts his head, he doesn’t feel like yelling anymore. 

It’s pointless, anyway. 

So is him taking Cody’s hands into his.

Fox still does it. 

“Cody”, he calls, again. “Cody, your General is alive. Kenobi is alive. You didn’t kill him. He is out there. If you won’t fight, at least go to him.” 

Fox knows that Cody cannot hear him. He tells him anyway.

That is all he can do, after all, and Fox has to do it, no matter what. 

Even though Cody cannot see him, even though he cannot hear Fox or feel him, Fox still presses his forehead against his and holds him.

— — — 

The Empire grows crueler. 

The Rebellion grows stronger. 

Leia grows up every single day. 

Every day, Fox fears for her more and more. 

He says it before he can even really think about it, and Leia does not let the idea go, once she has heard it. 

“Buir wants to teach me how to shoot”, she tells Bail and Breha over dinner. 

They both go still, and look at Leia for a moment, before they turn to look towards Fox, who is sitting next to Leia, on his regular spot, where before Leia, and now all of them, always pull out a chair for him. 

Fox sits there, silently. 

They both look like they want to argue, but end up not saying anything. 

After a while, Bail sighs. 

“We’ll talk about it later”, he says. “Fox, if you would please stay for a moment, when Leia goes to her practice?” 

Bail and Breha talk about it for a long time after Leia is gone, with Fox sitting between them as he always does. 

In the end, they say yes. 

Neither of them look happy about it.

Breha still holds out her hand, and Bail still tilts his shoulder down, like always.

— — — 

“Now, remember, it is not a toy”, Fox says. “I am teaching you how to use one so you can protect yourself, and that means that it can and will hurt others.” 

Leia is a smart kid. She is a little impulsive at times, and a little temperamental at others, but she is still smart and understands when something is serious. 

She is now listening to him with her complete attention, as Breha hands her a blaster. 

It’s a small blaster, a model that the army never used, most likely due to its size. Fox would’ve been able to lift it with two fingers.

“It’s heavy”, Leia still says. Her hands are just big enough to hold it securely. 

“You’re small”, Fox says. “Because of that, we need to work on your stance first, after we have gone through the safety protocols. What did I tell you about holding it?” 

“To always point it away from myself and others when I’m not aiming at anything”, Leia tells him obediently. “And to always keep the safety on, or have it set at stun at the very least.” 

She is currently pointing the barrel strictly towards the ground, even with the security on. 

She is a smart kid, and a fast learner. Fox also knows that she knows that if she doesn’t listen to him, it’s over instantly. 

Fox nods. 

“Good”, he says, and ruffles her hair. He doesn’t actually manage to truly mess it up, but some strands stick up slightly, like they have static to them. “Now, let’s see about that stance.” 

Leia doesn’t actually get to pull the trigger until at the very end of the hour Bail and Breha have given them for training. 

Still, she takes her stance, raises her blaster, and concentrates hard, her nose scrunching up at the effort, and even though she stumbles a little when the bolt leaves the muzzle, she still hits just a little to the side of the target.

Fox pats her on the shoulder. 

“Good job, Leili’ika”, he says.

Leia had been eyeing the target and the mark her bolt had made to the side of it with critical eyes, but at Fox’s words, she turns towards him. 

“Can I try again?” She asks. 

Fox looks at Breha, who holds up one finger. 

“One more”, Fox tells her. 

Leia shoots again. 

This time, she hits the left side of the target. 

When she turns back towards Fox again, she grins at him.

— — — 

“Buir”, Leia asks her that night, when she is just finishing her homework. “Can you tell me about the time when you were a kid?” 

“It’s not a happy story”, Fox warns her. 

“But it’s yours”, Leia says. “Please?” 

She looks at him pleadingly, making her eyes bigger on purpose, and Fox relents. 

Leia listens quietly the whole time as Fox speaks. 

“Where are your brothers now?” She asks at the end of it. 

“Many of them are gone”, Fox says. “Just like me.” 

Leia is quiet for a moment. 

“Do you miss them?” She asks then. 

“I do”, Fox answers. “Every day. They were my brothers.”

He thinks then of her brother, who is not there with her either, for the same reason Fox isn’t with his. 

Leia doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, she carefully puts her hand on top of Fox’s, and Fox laces their fingers together. 

— — — 

Leia takes her shooting practice very seriously. 

It is what Fox wants, of course, for her own safety, but there is something else in it now, as well. 

There is fire and determination etched into her now, and they burn brighter with every shot she takes that end up hitting closer and closer to the center of the target with every pull of the trigger. 

It makes Fox think of both Bail and Breha so much that every now and then, he thinks he is looking just a smaller version of them in front of him.

Bail is not home that night. He is still a Senator in the now Imperial Senate, and he is running a mission for the Rebellion at the same time, and both of those take him away from home more and more as of late. 

It’s just Fox and Breha sitting on the couch, with Breha holding out her hand for Fox, and Fox holding onto it. 

“Every single day”, Breha says, “she reminds me more and more of you. She is a soldier, just like you.” 

“No”, Fox says. “She is a fighter, just like you.” 

— — — 

Every day, Leia grows. 

Every day, Fox sees more and more of her birth parents in her as well. 

It is no secret to anyone on Alderaan that Leia is adopted. It has been a known fact that Breha is not capable of carrying children for decades, now. For as long as she has been alive, Leia has been the Princess of Alderaan, and that is all that matters. 

Still, the older she gets, the more pronounced their differences are. Leia has the same dark hair and eyes as Bail and Breha, and she is of similar stature as her mother, but otherwise, the outside differences are getting greater every single day. The shape of her eyes, the way her nose turns, the slope of her cheeks and chin are a mixture of people entirely different from the ones standing right next to her. 

Still, to Fox, everything else about her is entirely Bail and Breha, and that is all that should matter. 

Fox has never thought himself getting truly angry at a child, before, but when Leia’s cousin turns to look at her and tells her that she doesn’t look like an Organa, Fox momentarily wishes that he could smack the little brat at the back of his head. 

“You are not even an Organa yourself”, he mutters, just as Leia says that he doesn’t look like an Organa, either. 

Her cousin scoffs. 

“At least I look like my parents”, he says, before he runs off, like he is too scared to actually face the consequences of his actions. 

He is just a child, and children are many times stupid and don’t think about what they are saying. Fox knows this rationally.

Knowing it rationally doesn’t change the fact that he is pissed. 

He grabs Leia by her shoulders. 

“C’mon, Leili’ika”, he says. “He doesn’t know what he is talking about.” 

Leia follows him, but from the way her head keeps slightly turned down, Fox knows he didn’t get through to her. 

— — — 

Fox thinks that Leia is already asleep, when she cracks her eyes open. 

“Buir?” She whispers. 

“Yes?” Fox whispers right back. 

“Did you know my real parents?” 

Fox stops. 

He thinks of Padmé Amidala, her hair and eyes that are the exact shade that Leia’s are, the way she always strived for a better future, even when so many things kept pulling her to so many different directions. 

He thinks of the man clad in black and metal, the man with the power of killing people with only a twist of his hand. 

He thinks of Padmé Amidala again, who had the misfortune of loving someone who didn’t love her back just as much just for herself, and how that was what ended up killing her.

He looks at Leia, who looks back at him with her eyes still full of innocence, and he thinks of the hand that had killed him just the way it had killed her mother. 

“I think I knew of them”, Fox ends up saying. “I can’t be too sure.” 

It’s not actually a lie. In the end, Fox had not known either of them well enough to say that he truly knows what they were like. 

“Oh”, Leia says. She is clearly disappointed. 

“Leia”, Fox says. He softly runs his thumb over her cheek. “Listen to me when I tell you this. It doesn’t matter who they were. What matters is that they made you, and you are kind, brilliant, brave and beautiful. Things that you are, are the things that tell other people who you really are. And who you are, is an Organa, just like me.” 

Leia smiles, at last. It’s a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s still there. 

“Buir?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can you sing to me?” 

Fox smiles back at her. 

“Of course”, he says.

— — — 

Leia runs off to the forest. 

Fox can only follow her. 

“Leia”, he says, grabbing her at her shoulder. It slows her down, but only a little. “Leia, go back, now.” 

She doesn’t answer him, only continues to stomp forward on the path. 

“Leia.” Fox can still make himself sound like a Commander, if he wants to. Usually, he doesn’t. 

Leia stops, but she doesn’t turn around. She hangs her head, and Fox hears her sniffle. 

Fox immediately softens his voice again. 

“Leia”, he calls. “Leili’ika. My little heart.” 

“I’m trying”, Leia sniffs. “I’m trying, Buir. I’m trying so hard to be just like you.” 

“You are”, Fox says. He drops on his knee to wrap his arm around her better. “You are. Leia-” 

He hears the crack of a branch. Even though Fox served the entirety of the war on Coruscant, where trees were a thing of novelty, he still knows exactly how it sounds like when something breaks underneath a foot. 

Fox springs back to his feet and pushes Leia forwards. 

“Run!” He commands her, and then steers here to the side just as a figure rushes at her. The hands aiming for her miss her because of the sudden move, and then Leia is already running as fast as she can. 

It has been ten years since Fox died. He has had time to get used to all the limitations his current state has, and he has adapted to most of them. 

Still, he feels nothing but resentment for the fact that he cannot simply fight off the people coming after Leia, that he cannot simply pick her up and run away with her in his arms. 

He tries his best. He tells her where to run, what to look out for, and keeps steering her out of the way, to go through places that are small enough only for her. 

It’s not enough. Leia is still so small, and she can only run so fast for so long. 

She gets surrounded. 

She holds onto Fox’s hand so hard her knuckles have turned white. 

“Buir”, she calls for him, her voice small and scared. 

Fox holds her hand just as tight. 

“I’m here”, he tells her. “I’m here, I’m right here-” 

No matter how tightly they hold onto each other, it’s not enough. 

Her hand is ripped from his as one of the men grabs her and yanks her away. 

“Buir!” She cries. “Buir!”

Fox follows her as she is dragged away. 

“I’m here”, he tells her, because there is nothing else he can do. “I’m here.” 

— — — 

The men stuff Leia into the small cargo hold of their ship. 

She crawls into the furthest corner and sobs. 

Fox crawls in next to her and pulls her against him. 

“Shhh”, he shushes her. “It’s alright. It’s going to be alright. We both know that your Mama and Papa are going to be sending people for you the moment they know you’ve been taken.” 

“But how will they know?” Leia sobs quietly. “How will they know where they’re taking me?” 

Fox thinks for a moment.

It had not worked the last time, but…he has to try. 

He has to. 

“Listen to me”, he tells her. “I’m going to be gone for a moment. I’m going to try and tell someone your parents know and trust that you’ve been taken, and where you are. Then I’ll be right back.” 

She grabs onto him. 

“No, no, please”, she cries. “Please don’t leave me.” 

Somehow, even though Fox’s heart doesn’t even beat anymore, it still manages to somehow break. 

“I have to try”, he tells her. “I have to. I’ll be gone for just a moment. Don’t worry, I’ll always know where to find you. Now, sit tight, and list all the parts of your gun in your head. Once you are done, list all the parts of my armor. I’ll try to be back by then.” 

Leia sniffs. Then she nods. 

“Okay.” Fox presses a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.” 

He knows he has to try.

It still feels like he is ripping himself when he leaves. 

— — — 

Kenobi is still there where Fox left him, all those years ago. 

He looks even more weary, like the suns and the sand have been shaving him down, layer by layer. 

“General!” Fox calls. “General Kenobi!” 

He doesn’t turn to look. 

Fox doesn’t give up. 

“General Kenobi!” He marches right up to him, and grabs his arm. “I need your help. Please, General, it’s important. You need to help me.” 

Kenobi doesn’t hear him. 

Fox can’t give up. 

“General-” 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” 

Fox turns around. 

There is another man standing there, looking at them. He is tall, as tall as Bail is, if not even slightly taller, but he is built very different. He is lean and long, and reminds Fox of a long, thin-bladed sword. 

He might as well be one, if his robes, that look very much like the robes all the Jedi used to wear, are saying anything.

Fox doesn’t think he ever saw him, during the war. He thinks he would recognise him if he did, with the man’s height and the way he holds himself, with his stance relaxed but dangerous, and his long hair pulled back, betraying whatever image of a softer core he wants to portray. 

Fox glares at the man. 

“What?” He asks. 

The man doesn’t seem at all phased by the look Fox is giving him. 

“You’re not supposed to be here”, he repeats, calmly, and tilts his head, as if he is trying to get a better look at Fox. “I don’t sense anything particular in you.” 

He sounds mildly curious as he speaks, like Fox is a somewhat interesting puzzle he is contemplating of solving. 

Fox doesn’t have the time for any of it. 

“I don’t care”, he snarls. “I need to make him listen to me.”

“He will not”, the man says, still just as calmly. “He won’t even listen to me, and I’m his Master.” 

There are a million thoughts crossing each other inside Fox’s mind. Voices of his brothers, telling him whatever bits of information they had learned about their Jedi while on the field. 

Cody had talked a lot about Kenobi. 

He had mentioned Kenobi’s Master as well, once.

“You’re dead”, Fox says. 

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn shrugs. 

“So it seems”, he says, his mouth turning into a slight smile. “And it seems that so are you.” 

“So it seems”, Fox scoffs at him. “I died because the boy you dragged with you to Coruscant snapped my neck.” 

“Ah”, Jinn says. The smile disappears as quickly as it had appeared in the first place. “I see.” 

He doesn’t even have the decency to apologise. Whatever. Fox doesn’t have the time for any apologies, anyway. 

“Make him listen to you”, he tells Jinn. “You’re a Jedi.” 

“I have been trying”, Jinn tells him. “For a very long time, now. It has not worked.” 

“Why not?” Fox demands. “You’re both Jedi. I am not, and neither is my daughter, no matter whatever she has in her blood, and she has been able to see me since she was a baby.”

There’s another smile creeping on Jinn’s face. It’s too sad to be a real smile, though Fox doesn’t care whether it is one or not. 

What he cares about is getting Kenobi to listen so he can go and help Leia, since Fox can not. 

“I’m afraid his connection with the Force has been diminished greatly, as of late”, Jinn tells him. “He is simply not ready.” 

Fox’s blood, long since having stopped flowing, boils. 

“He is a Jedi!” His voice rises the longer he speaks. “His whole thing is having the Force! How can that suddenly be gone?”

Jinn looks Fox straight in the eyes, steady as ever. 

“Have you ever lost everything?” He asks Fox. 

“I am dead”, Fox tells him. “Have I not?” 

“You have your daughter”, Jinn says. “And she needs you, right now. I’m certain that her other father, the Prince Consort, is going to be here sooner than later. Obi-Wan will listen to him. You should go now.” 

If there is someone Fox trusts, it is Bail. 

“Very well then”, he says. Before he leaves, he gives one last look towards Kenobi. “If I have not lost everything, then neither has he.” 

If Jinn has something to say to that, Fox doesn’t stay long enough to hear it. 

— — — 

Fox sits back down next to Leia, who throws herself at him the moment she notices he is back. 

“Hey”, Fox says, and hugs her tightly. “It’s okay, I’m here now.” 

“I listed all the parts six times!” Leia proclaims angrily against Fox’s ribs. 

She sounds so much like Fox remembers himself having sounded like at her age, when he thought his brothers were being unfair, that Fox has to stifle a laugh. 

“I’m sorry”, he says, gently petting her hair. There are loose strands that have escaped from the braid on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, I know. I’m here now. You’ll be fine. I promise.” 

Leia lifts her head a bit to look at him. 

“You promise?” She asks. 

“I promise”, Fox says, because if there is one person in the entire Galaxy who he trusts with everything he has, it is Bail.

— — — 

“Leia.” Fox kneels in front of her, where she is standing at the far end of the cell. “Someone is coming to get you out of here. He is someone your Mama and Papa trust. I knew him during the War. You can trust him too.” 

Leia glances at the door warily. 

“Are you sure?” She asks quietly. 

“Yes”, Fox says. “He was a Jedi, once. He was your ba’vodu Cody’s General. You can trust him.” 

Leia nods, and braces herself, just as the door of the cell slides open, and Obi-Wan Kenobi comes in, with his hand outstretched towards her. 

Fox nudges her towards him, holding onto her other hand, as she grabs Kenobi’s with her other. 

— — — 

The city is on lockdown almost instantly. 

“Just a moment”, Fox tells Leia. “I’m going to have a look around.” 

Even if there are limits to what he can do, in many other cases, there are no limits. 

He is back in a blink of an eye. 

“Take a left there”, he points at an alley. “We should be able to get through there.” 

Leia nods at him, and tugs Kenobi’s hand. 

“Here”, she says, and is already marching off with Fox, forcing Kenobi to follow her. 

They manage to avoid the people looking for them that way, with Fox scouting ahead, and Leia forcing Kenobi to follow her. 

“How do you know where to go?” Kenobi asks, after the fifth right turn to dodge a group of mercenaries on their tail. 

Leia looks at Fox. Even though Fox knows that Kenobi cannot see him, he still feels strange as the man follows Leia’s eyes to him. 

Fox holds up his hand. 

“We don’t have the time for explanations right now”, he says. “C’mon. Right from here.” 

“Okay”, Leia says, which makes Kenobi frown and look harder where Fox is standing. His eyes are not able to focus on him, but they don’t stray too far either. 

“I’ll tell you later”, Leia says, and follows Fox, and Kenobi has no choice but to follow too. 

— — — 

They make it to a transport off of Daiyu. 

Kenobi doesn’t ask again, too shaken from the revelation that has been sprung upon him. 

Fox cannot blame him.

— — — 

Leia keeps looking at Kenobi every time he is not looking. Her nose scrunches up every time as she does so. 

“What is it?” Fox asks her. 

“Is he my real father?” Leia asks. 

“No”, Fox answers.

He wishes that he was. 

He doesn’t say that to Leia. 

— — — 

After they manage to avoid the outpost and the Stormtroopers there, Kenobi remembers his question again. 

“How do you know where to go?” He asks again, as their new transport flies them away. “How did you know that there would be Stormtroopers stationed there?” 

Leia looks up at Fox. Fox nods. 

“My Buir told me”, she says. 

Fox knows that Kenobi recognises the word. He has been on Mandalore enough for that. 

Kenobi frowns. 

“Your Buir?” He repeats. 

“He is always with me”, Leia says. “Only I can see him, though. It’s a little sad, sometimes, because Mama and Papa would like to see him as well.” 

“I’m not sure I follow”, Kenobi says. “Is your Buir…here, now?” 

“Of course he is”, Leia says. “He’s right here. He said that you knew him during the War.”

Kenobi blinks. 

“I knew him?” He asks. “...how is he here, now?” 

He sounds a little less confused than just a moment ago. Fox thinks that he knows something about how Fox is here. 

“He’s dead”, Leia says, and Kenobi doesn’t look at all surprised by that answer. 

“I’m sorry”, he still says. “How did I know your Buir?” 

“He said you were his brother’s General”, Leia says. 

Fox can see Kenobi think. He can also see when he realises who is there with them.

“I see”, he says. His eyes move up from Leia, to where Fox is sitting next to her. 

His eyes still can’t find Fox, but they are straying even less than before. 

“Hello, Commander Fox”, he says. 

There is a slight smile on his face, almost a wondrous one. 

“Hello, General Kenobi”, Fox says. “It’s nice to see you. Now, please get my daughter home, and then go to talk to your Master. He has been trying to talk to you for a while now.” 

Fox grins at the expression on Kenobi’s face when Leia repeats his words back to him.

— — —

Leia sleeps between Bail and Breha the first night back on Alderaan. 

Fox watches them for a while, after they have all fallen asleep, and then he leaves. 

Jinn doesn’t look at all surprised to see Fox again. 

“I suppose I need to thank you”, he says, when Fox comes to stand next to him. 

Fox looks at Kenobi, who is currently walking in and out of his house, with various tools in his hands Fox has no idea what they are used for. 

“I take that he can see you, now?” Fox asks. 

“Very much so”, Jinn says. “I have missed him.” 

Fox knows exactly what he means when he says that. 

“He still didn’t see me”, Fox says. 

“No, I didn’t think he would”, Jinn hums. “It seems that your situation is somewhat more unique than mine.” 

“I have gathered that much myself”, Fox says. 

He watches as Kenobi disappears inside his house and closes the door. 

“Can you give him a message for me?” He asks. 

“I don’t see why not”, Jinn says. 

“My brother is currently on Arvala-7”, Fox tells him. “Neither of them are suited to be living alone. Tell Kenobi to go get him.” 

Jinn smiles. 

“I shall relay the message”, he promises. “Thank you.”

“Thank you”, Fox says back to him, and returns to Alderaan. 

He lays down next to Bail, leans his forehead against his back, and closes his eyes. 

— — — 

Fox visits Tatooine again two weeks later. 

He watches as the door to Kenobi’s house opens, and Kenobi steps out, with Cody following him. 

They are both smiling as they talk, and Fox thinks Kenobi looks years younger than he did when Fox saw him the last time. 

Jinn is there, too, like he always is. He nods at Fox, and Fox nods back at him. 

Then Fox goes back home.

Fox is being punished. 

That has to be it. He had been a bad Commander, a bad soldier, a bad brother. All he had ever done had been mistakes, one after the other, leading up to his miserable end. 

But even after that, even after his body had been broken, even after he had had to lay there, in pain and numb, slowly choking out because no matter how much he had wanted to, his lungs would not draw in another breath. The only mercy he had been granted there had been the fact that he had lost consciousness before the end had actually arrived, so he had not had to actually see it. 

Fox had known when the end had come, though. There had been a flash of something, a landscape of rivers and lights he had fallen through, all the way back towards the hard ground beneath him. 

Then, he had stood there, watching himself laying on that hard ground, unmoving and cold. 

Fox had watched as his men had gathered around him, how they tried to find a pulse, even though Fox himself could tell it had been too late just by looking at himself. He had looked like a doll that had been played too harshly with, and then left behind, once his owner had grown bored with him. 

Fox had watched as his men had gathered his body and covered it, despite the fact that he had still had his entire armor on. He had watched them carry it away. 

Fox had not followed them. 

He knows what happens to all the bodies already. 

He did…he did not want to see himself go through it. 

It is selfish of him, he knows. He should’ve followed them, should’ve watched himself burn, like all of his brothers before him, who had been fortunate enough to make it back. It shouldn’t have mattered. 

He is already dead, after all. 

Still, he had not followed them. Instead, he just continues to stand there, at the foot of the Temple, where he had taken his last breath. 

He had thought he would see his brothers again. 

He had thought that he would finally get to apologise to Thorn. He had thought that Thorn would throw his arm around his shoulders and call him stupid for thinking that he had something to apologise for. 

He had thought that he would get to run to Ponds’s arms again. He had thought he would get to be held, and his older brother, always forgiving, would tell him that he still loved him, no matter what. 

Fox stares at the ground, where his body had fallen. 

It seems that once again, he had thought he deserved more than he was ever meant to. 

— — — 

Fox is being punished. 

That has to be it. He is being punished for all his failures, by having him witness the same things happen over and over again, but this time, he is even more helpless than ever before. 

He watches as his brothers continue to die. He watches as bolts that he could’ve warned them about hit them over and over again, because his voice doesn’t carry anymore.

He watches as his brothers continue to lose themselves, pulling the triggers of their blasters over and over again, because his hands are as much nothing as the air around them is. 

He watches as the Galaxy continues to fall deeper and deeper into the darkness. 

He watches it all, and he knows it is his fault. 

— — — 

Fox thinks about visiting Alderaan, sometimes. 

He misses it. It’s weird. He misses a place that he has never been to. He misses a place that was never his home, and never would be. 

He misses- 

Fox pushes the thought away from his mind, frightened of the possibility of what will happen if he thinks about it, thinks about them too much. He is not tied to the laws of regular travelling of the Universe anymore, and he is afraid that if he thinks too much, the next thing he knows, he will be standing there, looking right at them. 

He can’t do that. 

— — — 

Fox watches Bly die. 

His screams don’t reach him before he is gone, and they don’t reach him after. 

— — — 

Fox watches Stone die. 

He screams, again, even though he knows it’s pointless. He screams at him, orders him to get up, orders him not to leave Thire alone to this place. 

Stone doesn’t hear him. He dies, bleeding out in front of Fox, his blood flowing through Fox’s hands, no matter how hard Fox tries to hold it all in. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

He still tries, for some reason. Tries to hold them, tries to keep them from falling apart, tries to tell them they aren’t alone as they fade. 

He tries, because he has to. Because he didn’t try hard enough when he still had the chance. 

— — — 

He thinks of Rex a lot, whenever he sits by one of his brothers during their last moments. 

He thinks of Rex and the ARC Trooper in Rex’s arms and with a hole in his chest, and he sees himself holding the weapon. 

Fox is being punished. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

He stays with them until the end. 

All of them leave Fox after. 

— — — 

Fox surrounds himself with his brothers. 

He sits there, among them, the living and the dead. He listens to their voices, he watches their faces, he searches their eyes for recognition as they look towards him. 

It never comes. They can only look towards Fox, but not at him. 

Fox doesn’t know if he even wants them to see him. 

He doesn’t want them to leave him. 

He closes his eyes and listens to his brothers’ voices.

— — — 

Fox watches Wolffe. 

He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and closes his eyes whenever he pulls the trigger. 

Fox watches Cody. 

He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and holds his hand whenever he pulls the trigger. 

Fox watches them destroy themselves, and all he can do is cry silent, invisible tears. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

As he sits there, in a pool of blood that cannot stain him any further, he knows that he is being punished. 

He can’t take it anymore. 

Fox is being punished, and there is no place left for him that won’t hurt him further. 

He still goes, wishing for the reprieve of a different kind of pain. 

— — — 

The sun is setting when Fox arrives to Alderaan. 

He stands there, at the gates to the Palace, and watches the sun disappear behind the mountains and paint the sky with the colors of the warmth he can not feel anymore. 

He only has enough courage to enter through the gates once the sky has begun to turn dark. 

He remembers the stories Bail and Breha had told him. He remembers the terraces Bail had told him about, the ones where he would sit with Breha whenever he was back home. He remembers the halls Bail had described to him, the ones where he and Breha would dance in when they had the time, when they had a moment just for themselves to enjoy. 

He remembers the corridors and hallways Breha had told him about, the ones she had grown up running through, her shoes forgotten in the haste of seeing the ships leave in the morning. 

With the stories playing in his mind, he wanders through the Palace, all the way to the living rooms of the Queen and her Consort. 

Fox can hear them, through the door. He recognises the low, gentle sway of Bail’s voice, and he knows the melody of Breha’s voice as she speaks. 

He stands there, outside their door, and listens to them speak words he cannot make out. 

Bail says something. Breha laughs. 

Fox smiles. His tears don’t burn his eyes anymore. 

He sits on the floor and leans against their door, and he listens. 

— — — 

When the morning comes, Fox hides. 

He’s not hiding because he fears they will see him. He knows painfully well by now that he is invisible to the Galaxy as it is now. 

No, he hides, so that he can’t see them. 

So it goes. Fox hides in the halls and rooms of the Palace, living as a shadow in the house that was never his home, and he listens to the voices of the people he had once hoped would be his home. 

He knows the sound of Bail’s footsteps already, and he quickly learns Breha’s as well. Sometimes, he catches a glimpse of them, and he averts his eyes, no matter how much he wants to do nothing else than just look at them. 

There’s pain waiting for him in their faces, and there is pain here, where he doesn’t see them. 

Fox is being punished, after all. 

When the night falls, he sits by their door and listens to them talk. 

Bail says something. Breha laughs. 

There is silence. 

Breha cries. 

It’s an awful sound. 

Fox thinks that it’s his fault.

— — — 

Breha is not back to the Palace yet. 

Fox still sits in front of their door, even though there is no conversation going on on the other side. 

It’s silent, for a long while, but then there is noise. 

Bail is crying. 

It’s an awful sound. 

Fox thinks it’s his fault, too. 

After all, had he not ruined everything that Bail had worked so long for?

— — — 

They have a child, now. 

It’s impossible for Fox to not know that. Everyone around him is talking about her. 

The little Princess of Alderaan. 

Fox knows that they always wanted children. They talked about it often. So often, that sometimes, when Fox had been foolish enough for a moment, he had imagined a little girl himself, a little girl with dark eyes and dark hair, with a toothy smile and bright laugh. 

A little girl, just for them. 

He’s happy for them. He really is. He knows how much they wanted to have a child. A little girl, just for them. 

Fox had always known that he had been nothing more than a pawn on the board of war. 

Somehow, there is still a new pain to be found, from the realisation that the Galaxy and the lives in it would continue to move forward even without him. 

They have a child, now. A little girl, just for them, like it had been before Fox, and how it is now without him. 

— — — 

The little Princess has not been sleeping properly, lately. 

Fox doesn’t know a lot about babies, but he has heard some say that it is quite normal for them to sometimes go through periods where they seem to be doing nothing more than cry, day and night. 

The little Princess has certainly been doing that for the past week. 

Her cries always start the same. First as a few hiccups, that will eventually grow to sobs, and then to loud, demanding and shrill screams, that will go and and on, before she grows tired, and her little voice becomes hoarse, until she has the energy to just whimper. 

Fox hates the sound. He hates every second of every part of it. 

There is a need inside of him. A need that tells him that he must stand up, that he must walk through the door, that he must take the child and soothe her until she stops crying, that he must do so until she is happy again. 

He wonders if this was what the Prime felt like when he had been given his son. 

The little Princess cries. Fox listens to it, his teeth drawing blood that will not flow from his lip as he bites down on it, in order to keep himself composed. Breha and Bail sound both exhausted, as far as Fox can hear through the door, but still, they carry on, trying their best to soothe their daughter, as she continues to cry. 

Eventually, a silence falls. 

It draws on, far longer than it has in many days. 

Fox listens to it for a while, until it becomes simply too much. For a week, he has been holding himself together, and now, during a moment of peace, he has run out of any patience he had still had left.

He stands, and moves into the rooms on the other side of the door. 

He moves slowly and quietly through the dark living room. It feels appropriate, still, even though he makes no sound anymore for anyone to hear. He glances at the marks of a long life together, a life that he was just a small, brief moment in, and makes his way to the bedroom. 

Fox does hesitate for a long moment before he actually steps in. It feels like he is intruding, no matter how many times there had been promises, promises of this place, promises for his place exactly here. After all, those promises had never been able to come through, all because of Fox himself. There is no place for him here, anymore. 

Bail and Breha are both asleep. Fox can see them lay on the bed, turned towards each other in their slumber. Breha is curled against Bail, and Bail is curled around her, his back to Fox, like he is protecting her. 

Fox finally looks at them properly, now that they have their eyes closed. 

He feels like a stranger, stumbling upon a picture of a perfect life. It has been a while since he has wished for anything else than the final mercy of true death be granted upon him, but now, there is a longing for a life inside of him, burning him cold. 

He stands there and he longs, longs for two things he cannot have at the same time. 

Fox is being punished. 

There is a small, dim light on at the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and next to it, is a small cot. 

Fox tiptoes around the bed, and he slowly, so slowly and carefully, makes his way to the cot and looks in. 

She is sleeping there, the little Princess of Alderaan. She has a round face and small body, and tiny arms and legs with even tinier hands and feet. 

There is a tuft of brown hair on top of her head. 

Fox has a feeling that if her eyes were open, he would see that they were also dark. 

A little girl, with dark eyes and brown hair. 

A little girl, just for them. 

There she is, just like Fox had imagined her. 

There she is, now that Fox is not. 

She makes little sounds when she sleeps. Tiny gasps and soft sniffles, and even tinier whines every now and then as she shifts around a bit, her eyelids fluttering for a second before she settles back down. 

Fox cannot look away. 

He stands there, looking at her, at her round cheeks and tiny nose, at the tiny shadows her little eyelashes are casting on her skin, at the way her hair is longer at her forehead and curls ever so slightly towards the left side of her head. 

She whines a little, then again, a little louder. Breha shifts a little on the bed behind Fox. 

She needs her rest. 

Fox knows it doesn’t matter, but he hums. 

There hadn’t been any songs for them when Fox had been little. No lullabies or nursery rhymes. The only songs that had been sung to them had been the endless melodies of the ocean and its waves, and the songs of war, of bravery and brotherhood. 

None of them are suitable to be sung to a little Princess in the dead of the night, to lull her back to sleep. 

It’s a good thing, then, that she cannot hear him. 

Still, despite all of this, Fox hums the song to her, the song of his brothers and their hearts. He hums the song over and over again, with his voice that cannot tire anymore, as it is as soundless as it was eternal. 

The whines stop. She squirms around a bit, before she settles again, and stays there for the rest of the night. 

Fox flees when the morning comes and he hears Bail awaken. 

— — — 

Now that Fox has given a part of himself, he cannot take it back anymore. 

He goes in the next night, stands there next to the cot and looks at the little Princess, and he hums the song for her. She sleeps through night after night. 

Fox knows he is only deluding himself in thinking he is actually helping in any way. 

He still leaves every morning. 

— — — 

Babies grow fast. 

Fox notices it all by himself without anyone having to tell him. She seems to get bigger after every week. 

Leia. The little Princess. A little girl, just for them. 

She is five months now, Fox had heard Breha mention it the day before. 

Fox realises that she must’ve been born right after the Rise of the Empire. 

It feels like it has been a lot longer than that. 

— — — 

Fox hums. Leia had fallen asleep an hour ago, so it was still early into the night. Bail and Breha were also in the bed already, trying to catch as much sleep as they could. 

Fox had really thought they were asleep. 

Until he hears a quiet, choked sob. 

Bail pushes himself up instantly at the sound. Even though Fox could disappear instantly from where he stood, his mind had stopped working for a moment right then, and it’s already too late when the thought to do so finally crosses him.

“Breha?” Bail murmurs. 

Breha doesn’t answer instantly. Fox hears her draw in a deep breath that comes out accompanied by another sob. 

“I-” She says, and tries to breathe in deep again, but her voice just wavers more when she speaks after it. “I miss him. I miss him so much. He was supposed to be here.”

“I know”, Bail says. “I know. I miss him too.” 

Breha buries her face into Bail’s chest and cries.

“He was supposed to be here”, she sobs, digging a hot, burning blade of pain deeper into Fox’s chest with every noise. “He was supposed to be here, with us.” 

It takes Fox a moment to realise that they are talking about him.

He looks Bail in the eyes properly for the first time since before his death. 

They are full of tears, already making their way down his face, steadily and quietly as he holds Breha through her cries, steadfast and strong as always. 

Fox remembers how much he loves them again. 

He wants so badly to reach for them in that moment, he wants so badly for them to see him, to hear him, like he is still there. 

But he is not there.

He continues humming, through his own, quiet and weightless tears, and Leia sleeps through the night. 

— — — 

Fox stays when the morning comes. 

He cannot look away from them anymore, either. So he watches as they dress themselves and then dress Leia, and he follows them when they walk out of the Palace and through the gardens, down the hill and to a smaller garden, away from the main one at the central courtyard. 

Fox didn’t remember either of them ever mentioning it to him. They had both talked so much about all the plants and flowers of the Palace in detail when Fox had asked, in wonder of having living things in such abundance all around, even indoors. 

The little garden looks new, as Fox takes a better look at it. The stones around the flowerbeds have no weather to them yet, and the ground on which the flowers themselves stand is dark and loose and looks like it has just been placed there. 

There are young trees at the center of the garden, their blooming branches arching over white stones in the middle. 

It takes a Fox a moment to realise that it’s a grave. 

There are some petals that have fallen on the stone in the middle. Bail sweeps them away, before resting his hand on top of the stone. 

“Good morning, our love”, he says, and with air that he doesn’t need to breathe stuck inside his throat, Fox reads the writing on the stone. 

Where he lives now is in our hearts

Eternal, everlasting

Like love

Fox Organa

Remembered and lived by his wife, husband and daughter

Oh. 

Fox had thought- he had thought- 

Breha takes Leia’s little hand to hers, and she presses both it and her own hand on top of the stone as well. 

“Good morning, love”, she says. “Say good morning, Buir.”

Leia is five months old. Fox knows that she is too young to know how to speak yet. 

Still, she babbles happily, her little fingers curling against the stone, and Fox-

Fox stands beside his own grave and cries. 

— — — 

He looks at Leia that night as she sleeps. He looks at her round cheeks and tiny nose, her dark hair and tiny hands and feet, the way her chin is shaped and the way her mouth curves. 

He looks at her, and hums a song for her, to their little Princess. To their little girl, a little girl who is just for them. 

Fox sits on the edge of the bed once Bail and Breha are both asleep, and he feels like he somehow belongs, even though he is not there. 

— — — 

Leia is six months old. 

She is still rather small, as far as Fox has understood, but Bail and Breha are not worried by that. Fox trusts that they have a good reason. 

He is sitting on his spot on the edge of the bed, humming the song, as Leia suddenly scrunches her face, looking very much like she is about to cry. 

Fox stands up in a hurry and leans over the cot. 

“Shhh”, he hushes. “Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” 

He only realises that he is trying for nothing, like all the times before, after he has already said the words. 

Indeed, Leia does open her eyes, her face still scrunched up and her mouth drawn tightly, and she blinks rapidly, and- 

She looks up, her dark eyes locking in on Fox’s. 

Fox freezes. 

No. No, she is not looking at him, he reminds himself. She cannot see him, since he is not actually there-

Leia’s face relaxes as she continues staring at him. Her mouth goes lax for a moment, and then it curls into a toothy smile, and she reaches her hands towards him. 

Fox cannot help it. Readying himself for inevitable disappointment, he reaches his hand into the cot. 

Leia’s hands reach for his. First they don’t seem to be able to grasp on anything, but then, all of a sudden, they curl around Fox’s thumb. It feels like there is static between them, as a layer on Fox’s skin, but he can still feel the pressure and a hint of warmth through it. 

Leia looks at him, and smiles. 

Fox smiles back, wavering and on the edge of tears yet again, but he smiles back at her. 

“That’s right”, he says. “It’s alright. Buir is here.” 

Leia falls back asleep that night holding onto Fox’s hand. 

— — — 

There are limits to what Fox can do. 

He cannot lift Leia up properly. He can put his hands under her and lift her maybe half an inch for a second or maybe two, at max. The static feeling is always there whenever she touches him, but Fox can let her hold onto him, and he can lightly brush her head to soothe her. Leia giggles every time Fox runs his finger down the bridge of her nose. 

Fox has no other option than to exist with the fact that there is one person in the whole Galaxy who can see him. 

He cannot touch her as much when she is being held by someone else. He cannot pry her away from Breha or Bail, not that Fox even wants to. 

Breha is holding her on her shoulder as she mixes her a bottle. Leia is a little fussy, hunger making her impatient. 

Fox calls to her, and when Leia looks up at him, he sticks his tongue out at her. 

The fussiness and the hunger are completely forgotten. Leia laughs and clumsily claps her hands together. She shrieks out a louder laugh as Fox does it again. 

Breha turns, and looks around the room. There is still a bang of loss in Fox’s chest as her eyes pass right by him. 

“Something caught your eye?” Breha asks. She is smiling as she looks at Leia, and Fox loves her immensely. 

— — —

Bail stands next to Fox at Leia’s cot. 

Fox had always leaned against him whenever they had stood this close to each other. It had been a habit, born from the fact that Fox had always run cold while Bail had always run warm. 

Fox misses that warmth. 

Bail looks at Leia, who stares right back at him. 

“The last time I checked”, Bail says slowly. “It was way past the bedtime for little Princesses.” 

Leia only grins at Bail, who looks extremely dejected. Fox cannot help but laugh a little. 

Leia’s eyes move to Fox, and she laughs back at him. 

Bail frowns, and turns to look. For a moment, it feels like he is looking straight at Fox, but his eyes never stop searching. 

Fox wants to just lean forward and fall against him. 

He stays put, until Bail’s eyes turn away. 

— — — 

Leia stands up against the couch. 

Carefully, she lets go of it. She looks at Breha, who is sitting just a few meters away from them, and then she looks at Fox, who is sitting on the couch. 

Fox smiles at her. 

“Go on”, he says. “Go on, Leili’ika, you can do it.” 

“Come on”, Breha says, extending her arms towards Leia. “Come on, you can do it!” 

Leia takes one, hesitant step away from the couch. Then another, and another, until she has made it to Breha, who catches her in a hug. 

��There you go!” Breha laughs, and kisses Leia’s cheeks. “There you go, I knew you could do it!” 

Leia giggles, and then looks over at Fox. 

Fox claps his hands. 

“Good job!” He says. Breha puts Leia back down, and Leia turns around, and makes her way towards him with small, wavering steps. She grabs at the couch right in front of Fox, and looks up at him, with a wide, toothy smile. 

Fox glances at Breha.

Breha is looking at Leia, but slowly, her eyes move up, following Leia’s gaze. 

She doesn’t see him, but she keeps looking, almost like she is expecting to see something there. 

She is not smiling anymore. Fox swallows, and turns to look back at Leia. 

Leia is still smiling, and Fox quickly smiles back at her. 

“Good job”, he says again, and runs his thumb over her cheek. “Good job, Leia.” 

Leia giggles again. Breha is still looking when Fox looks back at her. 

— — — 

“Sometimes, it just…” Breha trails off. “....it just seems like she’s really seeing something we’re not.” 

“I know”, Bail says. “But…she always looks happy, correct?” 

Breha nods. 

“Yes”, she answers, and then pauses. “...do you think it’s because of…” 

Bail takes her hand into his. 

“Maybe”, he says, almost whispering. “Maybe. Though I…I cannot imagine what she is seeing. I’ve never heard of anything like this. Obi-Wan or Master Yoda could know, perhaps, but…” 

He cuts himself off, and shakes his head. 

“It’s too dangerous”, he says. 

Fox stares at his hands as he listens to them speak, his mind trying to catch up with what had just been said. 

They aren't all gone. The Jedi are not all gone. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive.

— — — 

Fox goes to see Kenobi that night, after Leia has fallen asleep. 

It’s the middle of the day there, with two suns blaring down on the desert. Fox finds Kenobi easily enough. 

He looks like he has aged several years in just a span of one.

Fox cannot blame him. 

He watches Kenobi for a while, looking for any sign that he can see Fox. 

When none come, Fox steps closer. 

“General?” He calls. “General Kenobi?” 

Nothing. 

Fox tries not to feel disappointed. 

There’s a strange feeling then, like he is being watched. Fox turns around. 

No one around him is looking at him. 

— — — 

Fox goes to visit Cody after. 

He watches as Cody cleans his blaster, just like he always does. He looks like he usually does as well, with his helmet off, and his brows creased in a gentle, concentrated frown. 

Fox wonders what Cody would do, if Fox could tell him that Kenobi is alive. 

Perhaps it’s for the best that he can’t.

Fox returns to Alderaan, and sits on the edge of the bed. Leia makes a sound, and he hums her song to her to settle her back to sleep.

— — — 

Kids are fast. 

Much faster than they have any right to be. Leia especially, because she is still tiny.

“Leia!” Bail calls after her, as she speeds off. “Leia, slow down!” 

Fox can move a lot faster than anyone else. In less than a blink of an eye, he is in front of her, and she hastily slows herself down to a stop. 

“You heard your papa”, Fox says. “Slow down.” 

Leia has the gall to pout at him. 

Bail has now caught up to her as well, and he scoops her up. 

“What are you pouting at?” He asks her, tickling her stomach lightly. 

Leia laughs.

“Buir!” She giggles, which makes Bail stop immediately. 

He looks at Leia, looking a bit confused for a moment, and then glances towards the small garden. 

“Do you want to go see Buir?” He asks her. 

Leia turns to look back at Fox. 

“Buir”, she says. 

Bail doesn’t notice her looking, because he just nods, and starts to make his way towards the garden. Fox decides it’s for the best if he follows them. 

Bail puts her back down on the ground in front of the grave. 

“There we go”, he murmurs. “Say hello to Buir.” 

Leia frowns at the stone, and then looks at Fox. 

“Buir”, she says. She sounds rather confused now. 

Bail looks at her, and then up, straight at Fox but straight past him.

Fox makes himself smile at Leia. 

“It’s okay”, he says. He brushes his hand across the top of her head. “It’s okay, Leili’ika. Buir is right here.” 

Leia looks at him, and then reaches her hand.

“Buir”, she says. 

Fox lets her grab onto his hand. He watches as Bail looks at him, still straight past him, with a lost look full of grief in his eyes. 

Once again, Fox wishes nothing more than to be able to speak to him, make him see, make him hear him, so Fox could tell him that he is right there. 

But he cannot. 

Because even when Fox has found his place, even when Fox has found happiness, even when Fox has found a home, even when he has been granted a reason to be here. 

Even then, Fox is being punished.

[starshifter]

this it it...all the notes for the main fic... wow....

-

This chapter is titled "It Never Ends" in Scrivener….if that tells you anything about how much this fic spun out of my control 😅 whoops. I had zero of this except the very last scene in my plans for this fic. I told my friend he should take me out sniper style if I tried to add even more because I’d already spent two months on writing this and had all my editing to go back and do still. He did not stop me from adding more. Betrayal.

But yeah, there wasn’t originally any Belobog, much less any getting into Blade’s stalking and brief appearance as Smiling Black Dragon. I couldn’t resist the opportunity though, especially since I don’t think that event is very well known? Maybe it was just me who didn’t know though, cause I joined the fandom late.

Did Serval canonically ever visit the Express? I know we had that quest about her planning to join up, but she didn’t go through with it. I don’t know if she ever got around to a casual visit, so I’m saying it still hasn’t happened. Also that Himeko and Welt still haven’t visited Belobog. All for the sake of one dumb joke about people mistaking Blade for Welt cause they’ve never met Welt. I’m not funny -_-

The entirety of belobog: is it rude to ask a hero why they suddenly have horns and pointy ears? Maybe this is normal for people from beyond the sky? I think it should be shared somewhere that one of my edit notes on this fic was: "Make Shard Sword his emotional support sword." Because I am still laughing to myself about that They are both losers. DH had to go to the girls for date ideas because he is a nerd with nerd hobbies. Blade, meanwhile, has no hobbies other than stalking because depression and PTSD. And they want to date??? Tragic.

Dan Heng can be impulsive and emotional (still laughing about Taoran, though there was definite forethought put into that one. Get fucked, shit-breather), but at the end of the day, he’s a very rational and level-headed person. I think I struck a decent balance between these things in that last argument… But I do worry that I’ve made Dan Heng too much of a doormat at times 😭He’s not being a doormat, I promise. He’s just trying to think things through and be understanding. He doesn't like to act before having a decent idea of the full picture.

Also, for all that Blade very much doesn’t worship Bibi, he really puts him up on a pedestal sometimes. Like, damn, son. You know he’s just some guy, and you still think the whole world of him. That’s gay.

And talk about finding the most creepy, stalker-ish way to say “I love you.” Guess that fits Blade tho lmao Also wtf you mean you got nothing else left? Smh, you got all of the Stellaron Hunters at your back and you know it!! Ugh, talk about self-centered and idiotic

I know in my heart that DH’s briefcase is filled with books rather than anything sensible. I know it. The writers of the game came to me in a prophetic dream and told me directly.

Not me pushing my ‘preceptor conspiracy’ theories (…theyre basically confirmed at this point, right? Maybe not the bloomborn scion thing (yet) but the sedition being a set up, yeah?)

Blade has the opportunity to do the FUNNIEST (read: most fucked up) thing on their anniversary (the literal heart presenting thing made me laugh more than it should. Just imagine dh’s traumatized expression and blade not understanding the problem. Kafka said this was what you’re supposed to do… Ah, fuck, wait)

Why is the Astral Express playing the Farming Game? Because it was the first thing that came to mind when I needed a random game to give them. I considered Catan as well, but I didn’t feel like looking up the rules and it’s been a while since I last played. I don’t know how you would cheat at the farming game. I honestly do not. The Nameless are just that powerful.

Kafka’s relationship with Blade strikes me as more distant than the other two Hunters just because Kafka is like that. She holds everyone at a distance. She’s Blade’s friend, for sure, but she’s the person he goes to when he wants a distraction from his thoughts. She’s not someone he calls just to chat with or hang out. They're working on it tho

No smut for y’all. Like, two thirds of the tag is smut, so I feel no guilt over this. My ace ass does not need to find out if I can write convincing porn yet. (Because I refuse to serve anything except the finest quality smut, but I’ve never tried writing it before, ok? Maybe someday in the future I’ll give it a shot, but this fic has already become far too long)

I fully and truly believe that Blade would not have been ready to accept anything except murder-suicide with Dan Heng if he hadn’t had the Stellaron Hunters to support him moving back towards being human. You know the drill: found family, cold dead hands, etc, etc

I don’t think Blade’s suicidal ideation can be solved so easily. He’s spent too long suffering and wishing for death. That kind of thing lingers. He’s going to continue wishing for death, but now he’s willing to live as well, and I think that’s real progress plus a good place to leave him.

[youredreamingofroo]

both posts have been scheduled for tmmrw morning (for me), I should be awake before then, but I'm excited to finally get this posted. I might take a day to give myself a bit of a breather and just to make sure I don't burn out lmao, but I might not, we'll see.

Also consider that post a celebration(??) for 50 followers!!! I'm SO SO grateful for all of you, I started this simblr with very low expectations (mainly because I've never been on a platform as welcoming as tumblr/simblr 😭) and those expectations have been thrown out the window, I can't wait to make more friends here and post more of my stories, and while I continue to post stuff I enjoy, I hope to develop an audience (of friends and followers) who enjoys my variety (since I don't wanna strictly be a story blog or a CAS blog, I plan on posting both, as well as some builds maybe? I don't know if I'll ever upload them, and also posting blender renders, and whatever else I decide to post since its my blog lmao)

And just another HUGE thank you for 50 followers, I'm so grateful, I don't really know what to do for 50, maybe I'll do some sim requests or a sim dump, idk!! idk how to do that stuff, i'm kinda dumb LMAO I just don't quite know how to express my sheer gratitude.

[miraiq]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

repost, do not reblog this

NAME: Prince/Jehr/PJ. PJ is just a combo of the two alias' first letters. Jehr was my original when I first started out using aliases ever, which was created for me by my best friend at the time. I slowly tried to make a new alias for other muses I wanted to write without having them be associated with me-- for some reason? Wanted to hide or start fresh or something I guess? Same friend also made me take a HomeStuck quiz to get my... uh... vibe? I don't recall what it was, but the answer was Prince of the Light and I used that as my personal url for years, so I actually took the newer alias from that.

PRONOUNS: He/Him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord is the fastest way to get responses from me, simply because the app is always logged in on my phone and pc, while tumblr is only logged in to my personal tumblr via my phone. Any mutuals that would like to add me on Discord: princem0n

NAME OF MUSE(s): For my sanity, google doc for full list. Otherwise, main/actively in use muses: Severa/Selena(FE), Caelus(HSR), Serval(HSR), Kyo(Fruits Basket)

BEST EXPERIENCE: To be perfectly honest shit-posting/memes are always a welcome relief and the best way to destress. I recall previously that myself and group of fellow hooligans would constantly make photoshop edits of stupid things that would go around on the dash. Example(s) of something(s) I made during that time:

But I also really enjoyed being able to deep dive into characters relations and how they worked against or with each other. Especially when it came to characters who didn't have their entire story brought to the forefront, like most videogame characters. You don't get to see the behind the scenes stuff with them, most the time, so it's fun to see how they could have gone about or reacted to different situations/after the fact/how it affected them.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS: Lack of communication. Sometimes I forget things, so I'll typically come ask for an answer or reconfirming that I didn't miss something or misinterpret anything. If there is an issue, I am begging, please just approach me. I often will do this if I have a problem, all I ask is the same in return. I can't stand constantly being left on read, especially when trying to discuss stuff plot related. We can't be on the same page if we don't have conversations going BOTH WAYS.

Other than that I'm pretty relaxed. I, as a slow writer, won't hound people practically ever for responses. We're adults, life happens, things come up, muses hide or aren't as strong as others. As long as you aren't actively ignoring me/our threads, there's no problem. If I don't see you posting at all then I know you just need a breather and that is A-OKAY. This is a hobby for fun. Why be fussy and cause problems due to impatience? I guess that is another pet peeve- impatience- lmao.

MUSE PREFERENCES: Bottoms. I notice myself writing of lot of "tsundere" types? Or redheads. I just love them. Misunderstood but fight against the world because they don't want anyone to know that they're broken.

PLOTS OR MEMES: Both. Both is good. Everything in balance. I used to meme a lot, and I've definitely toned it down. But I don't know, sometimes getting too serious or having too many think-hard-about threads can be tiring, and lil shitposting is a good breather to be able to let you get back on with it.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Both are nice. I tend to overwrite, simply because my style will typically go into my muse's thought process(es), or if the thread is still being established, I try to set the scene or give background information. But, short replies are nice. Gives you a small thing to work on and take a rest between lengthier threads. That's also why I like random inbox prompts. Not all of them have to go anywhere- just gives you a space to do something else aside from your drafts.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I am absolutely not a morning person. Night owl to the max. You will see me up still at 3am more often than not. I typically wake up around 10am-1pm, so I'm usually writing right around dinner.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): In some aspects, sure. Not entirely like one-for-one with any muse, but there's always at least a piece of myself in each muses. Helps write them better, in my opinion. Only exceptions typically being any "self-insert" like characters. (ie. Robin/Avatar from Fire Emblem: Awakening). Most of those characters still have a base personality to them though, so unless you completely customize them, they're still pretty "how do YOU respond" choices change how they are.

Tagged by: Stealing dis from Rath Tagging: Yo who wants to let me know their lore?

[maximotts]

I held off on using scrivener for a long time because of the price tag. But has a 30 day trial and when they say 30 days they mean 30. It’s not from the 1st to the 30th of the month it’s you using it thirty different days. I went through a writing slump and had the trial for like six months lmao. So that is definitely worth a try if you’re still not sure about committing. (PC & Mac - not sure about the others)

I like that you can cloud back up with drop box. If you also buy the ios/android app (less than pc but still a lot. $40 AUD for me) you can switch between them easily. I don’t personally write on my phone but I feel safer with a physical version and a cloud back up.

I find writing on scrivener much easier. Especially long form. The cork board feature is super useful and hard to find somewhere else. There’s a notes feature for each separate scene which is useful when you want to write an idea down without interrupting your flow. I found it hard to plan fics because it’d just be a big block of text (and maybe a diagram) that I’d scroll through which not only sucked up time but I wouldn’t use it a lot and then have to rewrite stuff when I saw an idea I love but forgot.

I also love the scene feature because it stops me from accidentally rereading what I’ve already written instead of writing lmao. I’m writing stuff so much faster because I don’t see a big chunk of text and go “well I should reread to remember where I’m at” like I didn’t write 12 hours ago.

I was also hesitant to buy it because “it’s just another program google docs works just as well” buuuut it’s not. I was just barely writing lol. I would give the trial a go because it really gives you a chance to get familiar with everything without forcing yourself to write a much in a month. If you don’t end up liking the program you can export what you’ve written in there on the last day pretty easily so no harm no foul. The program has an simple setting to consolidate everything.

I also use scrivener for study! I’m getting a diploma to become a library technician and find the organisation of scrivener so helpful for taking notes. It also makes printing them for exam season so much easier.

So yeah :) I think you should get it but take advantage of the trial first just in case. Sorry for so much text but I hope this helps!

Ooo no apologies needed, I really appreciate the detailed review! I didn't know the 30 day trial meant thirty days of active use but that's actually so amazing, I love that!! I find sometimes when I'm trying to like, force myself to learn too much new stuff at once I get too stressed to like, take a breather with the program and then I end up not liking it as much so that's a really good feature!!

And YES to the rereading what you've already written because I fall into that trap way too much and then I'm like "welp now I have to get up and do something else now!" and nothing new gets done!!

Anything that's good for notetaking is a must try in my book tbh, I've been toying with doing a second degree for a bit, but also I just love to take notes on anything and everything I read and research so 👀👀

[saintobio]

Ok, I finally gathered the courage to come here and give you my two cents about Sincerely Not, so pardon me for writing this long ask.

First of all, what a well written story. The way you outdo yourself in every chapter? I'm envious. Also, the way you convey emotions and write the characters? It's amazing, you know. I always prided myself for having a great heavy-angst tolerance and yet, you still manage to give me a heartbreak in every paragraph.

Y/N is an amazing woman and, being this sweetest of a main character, she is actually a breather. I don't get why people tend to forget that both burdens of prestige and legacy rest heavy on her shoulders and want her to be more badass. In a sea of pretentious and fake people, she is the only genuine person — and Gojo is missing out on it. Not even Sera, under the pretense of having a background of "real" struggles (let's put like this, because her struggles don't make Gojo's and Y/N's any less hurtful), seems that much of a genuine lover.

Being calm, patient and composed doesn't make Y/N weak because, being in the position she is, it actually makes her access the situations she is in seen in a better light. And I love her for being so emotionally intelligent.

I wrote this before the dreadful chapter 8 and I was waiting for your askbox to be open, so I'm yet to read it. But I sincerely think chapter 8 ll be important for Y/N's growth. She's her own person but she's also a woman of duty, so she'll keep doing things for the sake of her family and the people around her. Hopefully, this mindset is going to change after the chapter and she's going to start valuing her own dreams and goals.

As for Gojo, I hope he fails miserably with the merge with CFG and his downfall starts, lmao.

I have so many theories and thoughts, but I'll leave them for another time. Just... thank you so much for sharing this story with us. I'm enamored by it.

Sorry for the long ask.

omg babe reading as how you wrote this before getting to read chapter eight ?? shsndjsdbdn i hope u were prepared plz. and thanks sm for ur kind words :’) they’re always appreciated !!

yn’s growth will be satisfying to see (unless gojo holds her back, again 😣) i’ve actually unintentionally answered a spoiler on discord on what would happen to gojo in his company soon and my dumbass just realized 😭 i hope no one brings it up for the surprise factor

[dethbug]

are you willing to share any backstory you have with your s/I and beej... I'm very invested!!!! :DD

ANON HELLO-- you are so kind my heart lept when i read this omg. THANK YOU SM im so flattered :,D its honestly a hodgepodge of the musicals canon, as well as my own elements -- SO BASICALLY i play by my own rules but also just kinda use the musical as 95% of the ground work HAHASDJHAS

THIS IS GOING TO BE A LOT OF INFO but it ties back to your original question im so sorry HASHDAHSDF

SO delia is my s/i's biological mom - still working out the details on everything but im thinking here and there i would help her with her life coaching escapades -- which leads to us meeting the deetz, and me being more involved in the "life coaching" process to hopefully try and help lydia through her mourning!! though ofc she wasnt too thrilled about me or delia at first, i ended up connecting with her because i was able to understand her in a way that delia/charles couldnt quite yet and ONCE AGAIN working out many many details here and im trying to spare you an entire novel of info HAHDHAS --- BUT-- im thinking lydia and i connecting/bonding in a sisterly way is very slow ,, essentially over the course of the whole experience of the main plot events -- hesitant and keeping me at a distance at first, but slowly growing closer as i refuse to give up on her etc etc 🥺 THAT BEING SAID this is where i start twisting the musicals canon outside the realm of "i was there too" LMAO-- so i actually meet beej before lydia does, and to mirror that, she meets the maitlands before i do!! so instead of lydia encountering beej on the roof, i do! ^_^ i go up there after an argument with lydia (comparing it to the musical, i believe this would be after No Reason,, because it makes me sad how lydia shoots delia down, so i think it would just escalate after i sternly stood up for my mom.....if that makes sense....?) meaning this bleeds into Invisible (Reprise) / On The Roof -- where i go out on the roof for fresh air to calm myself down, getting startled by Beej's unexpected presence, and accidentally falling over the railing in which he instinctively saves me, quickly poofing to catch me mid air -- theres a moment where he's just tensely holding onto me as we're levitating, and each of us are able to get a prolonged "first look" at each other (BUGJUICE LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT TENSION YOU COULD SAY) but yes he poofs us back onto the roof, stumbling apart -- queue all the questions and utter confusion you would expect from me. beej is still processing someone can see him, he's all over the place with excitement and bombastic energy eventually that bleeds into Say My Name -- and so on so forth !!! THAT IS THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG IM SO SORRY THAT WAS A LOT. theres so much more but outside of the "structured" plot,, i believe he actually stays in the house, taking residence in the basement (since the maitlands took the attic :D) it just becomes strange found family + breather/demon slow burn ASDDFHJDSJH

THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH to you anon and anyone who is mental enough to read and process my ramblings -- seriously it really means a lot to me :,)))

[solarwonux]

Valentine’s Day Drabbles #4 - Facetime 

Ceo!Jun x f!reader

w.c 1.9k

warnings: smut, dirty talking, masterbation, mutual masterbation, phone sex, face time sex ya kno the usual lol

note: I’m having so much fun writing these lmao, I think I will do one for each of the 13 members, So I am gifting you Jun for today. I hope you’ll enjoy, let me know your thoughts. Thank you.xx

drabble game || masterlist

Jun’s business trip had been extended for another week, and he was pissed but the merge between his company and Seungcheol’s company was important. His stress of being away from his home and you getting to him as he felt his exhaustion rise when he bounced from meetings to meetings. A few times he had been able to sneak away for a breather and contact you, giving you updates on his day and telling you how much he was missing you in more ways than one.

“You don’t have to come out with us tonight.” Chan said as he finished tying his shoe and standing up, admiring his appearance in the mirror. Jun nodded tugging on his shirt, running a hand through his wet hair.

“This is important, we’re so close to finalizing the merge Chan I can’t back out now.” Jun sighed, sitting down on the bed grabbing one of his shoes.

“Wonwoo and I got this, we’ll just say you had an emergency to tend to, I’m sure they’ll understand.” Chan smiled, placing a comforting hand on Jun’s shoulder. “We’ll get this.” He nodded reassuringly, patting his shoulder and made his way towards the door. “Pick up your phone, it has been ringing nonstop.” He laughed and walked out.

Jun sighed, throwing his shoe to the side and stood up walking over to where his phone was charging. A sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he saw your facetime call light up his screen and without a second thought, he picked it up. His smile grew when he saw you appear on his screen. His heart beating rapidly as he took in your relaxed appearance, his body itching to be with you.

“Hey baby, you going out?” You smiled pushing up your glasses, leaning your elbows against your desk, getting close to the camera as you took in his attire. “I can call later if you are?”

“Hi love, was going to but I think Chan will beat my ass if I step out to meet him and Woo, they already scolded me for overworking myself too much earlier today.” He grinned, throwing himself on the bed, placing an arm behind his head holding it up grinning at you through his phone.

“Good maybe you’ll listen to them.” You smiled leaning back in your chair. “I miss you.” You pouted playfully crossing your arms in front of you.

“Believe me I miss you so much, if all goes well tonight and tomorrow, I should get back home tomorrow night or the following morning.” He said sitting up resting his back against the headboard.

“Jun, I’m confident everything will go well, stop selling yourself short.” You affirmed wishing you were with him to hold him and reassure him that all his hard work was going to pay off.

“Okay, okay if you say everything’s going to be fine then everything will be fine.” He smiled pushing his drying hair back, before slamming his hand down on the bed. “Now let’s stop talking about this…how was your day?”

“Fine, there was a tech problem at the office, so everyone got sent home early…I went to the mall and then came home took a bath, cooked and now I’m talking to you while waiting for my cookies to finish baking.” You gushed watching as Jun’s smile grew wider. His stomach was spiraling with butterflies as the excitement of seeing you again grew.

“Did you buy anything?”

“Ahh, I did but you’re going to have to come home in order to see what I bought.” You smirked playing with the strings of his forest green hoodie, his eyes widening realizing what you meant. He let out a playful groan running a frustrated hand across his face making you laugh loudly.

“Baby please show me…I’m in need right now.” He whined laying down on the bed again as you shook your head.

“Nope, that will ruin the surprise Jun…you can wait a few more days, or hours.”

“Please just a preview, I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day today.” He pouted, bringing his phone closer to his face magnifying his pouting lips.

“Fine but pay attention.” You giggled standing up from your chair, and pushing it in. Pushing your computer screen back, watching as Jun bit his bottom lip in anticipation. You walked back a little carefully, slowly hitching up his sweatshirt, revealing a baby blue see through bra with hearts covering your nipples and matching see through mesh shorts. Jun groaned, throwing his head back hitting his pillows repeatedly as he felt himself grow harder. You scoffed playfully at his reaction before bringing down his sweatshirt and covering yourself again as he whined.

“Did you like it?” You asked leaning against your chair watching as Jun rolled his eyes at your question.

“I’m so happy you showed me that today because when I get home its coming right off darling.” He mumbled unbuttoning the first few buttons of his dress shirt, feeling the heat start to take over his body. “But also I’m so hard right now and Chan could come back any minute now.”

“Better go take a cold shower then.” You suggested taking a seat again, fixing your computer screen so you were back in frame. “No, help me.” He pouted, fixing his pillows before sitting up against them, his free hand threatening to start touching himself as the image of you kept replaying in his mind. “Touch yourself for me.” He breathed out finally letting his hand rest against himself, palming himself slowly.

“Jun! You exclaimed your eyes growing in size, feeling your body heat up, the thought of pleasuring yourself for him making you aroused. “Please baby, look at what you did to me.” He smirked turning his camera around his hand gripping his cock through his slacks, a moan escaping your lips as you felt yourself start to crave him. You pushed your chair back standing up and taking off your bottoms throwing them aside, hiking up his sweatshirt and sitting back down. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You spoke, opening your legs for him, your hand slowly caressing the inside of your thighs, making him moan out in satisfaction.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures my love.” He spoke rapidly standing up from the bed, setting his phone down on the nightstand making sure you’re able to see him. Once he was sure he stood up straight, taking off his shirt in a desperate haze. Moving his arms around as he tried pushing it off making your giggle at his clumsiness. “Not funny.” He mumbled once he succeeded throwing his shirt on the bed. His golden chest glistening underneath the dimmed light of the hotel room, your hand getting closer and closer to where you needed it most.

“Take off your pants you’re taking too long.” You joked as you teasingly ran your index finger through your arousal. Jun scoffed, rolling his eyes, “And you call me the impatient one.” He shook his head, unfastening his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers, kicking them aside. His hardened length resting against his stomach, begging to be touched. “You are.” You breathed sinking into the chair, moaning as you started circling your clit slowly.

He sighed as he took his cock in his hand circling his thumb over his reddened head, spreading around the bead of precum that hard started to form. “Aren’t you wearing to much clothes for me baby, let me see you.” He spoke letting go of his length spitting in his hand before moving his hand against him again.

“Deal with it.” You smirked before pushing against your clit gently. “You’re such a tease baby.” As he slowly started teasing himself. “Put a finger inside of you.” You moaned obliging, throwing your head back as you slid in one of your fingers moving it slowly against your wet, velvety walls wishing it was his finger instead. “Jun, I need you so badly.” You whined out searching for your g-spot, moaning when you finally found it.

“God, you have no idea how delicious you look right now.” He groaned, tightening his grip on his length. “Can you put another one in?” He sighed, running his thumb over his head once again, the pleasure feeling out of this world. You nodded as you started to slowly scissor your fingers as your other hand rubbed your clit teasingly. The sight was so sinful and beautiful at the same time. A masterpiece he wished he could frame for his own pleasure.

“I wish you were here.” You breathed out throwing your head back, pushing your hips against your hand as you slowly felt the wave of pleasure build up. Jun moaned loudly as his hand started moving faster, his hips moving along with it. “I wish I was there. inside you…Are you close?” He sighed, feeling himself start to reach his high, you nodded increasing your pace, your back arching against the chair, as your breaths started to get louder. Your chest rising rapidly as you worked yourself up, moaning his name like a sinful mantra when you felt yourself come undone underneath your heated touch. Jun following in suit, whispering your name through gritted teeth. Ropes of his cum shooting out against his toned stomach, the sight exciting you.

The two of you stayed silent for a while, taking in what had happened before you let out a laugh. Jun chuckled as he grabbed his phone with his clean hand, walking into the bathroom and grabbing the towel he had used earlier after his shower. “Why are you laughing?” He smirked, setting his phone down, resting it against the bathroom counter.

“I just can’t believe we did that.” You blushed crossing your legs in front of you. “Was that a good enough preview for you?” You added feeling your cheeks get hotter.

“More than enough baby girl.” He grinned, running the towel underneath the faucet before cleaning himself off. He then set the towel aside once he was done, looking around making a satisfied sound when he found the sweatpants, he had thrown on the floor that morning and putting them on.

“Good, now I have to go check on my cookies, the oven beeped around two minutes ago, but I was a bit busy obviously.” You stated standing up.

“Wait don’t leave me.” He whined grabbing his phone and walking out of the bathroom, his ears perking up as he heard the door of his hotel room click open, Chan walking in, his jacket over his shoulders and a satisfied smirk etched on his face. “Chan just walked in, say hi.” He smirked turning his camera around to face his best friend and coworker, your palms feeling sweaty as you set down your laptop on top of the kitchen counter. The fragments of what had happened not even five minutes ago playing through your head.

“H-Hi Channie. Did it go well?” You waved shyly, looking down at your attire and making sure you were all covered.

“Hi, yes, we’re signing the merger deal tomorrow, you’re welcome Jun.” He smirked patting his friend on the shoulder before walking past him unbuttoning his shirt. Jun turned his camera around, his face glowing as he heard the news.

“See, Jun I told you it was going to go perfectly fine.” You said excitedly, turning off the oven, silently hoping you hadn’t burned the cookies, as you had been craving some for days.

“Your manifestation skills are out of this world baby.” He joked making you laugh as you slowly took out your cookies, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips, your perfect cookies staring back at you. You set them down, spinning around and turning on the faucet and running your hands underneath them “That was all you baby, I just offered words of encouragement.”

“And more.” He winked, giving you a knowing look, as you turned the faucet off giving him a warning look. His laugh erupting from his chest at your reaction.

“I’m hanging up now, goodnight baby, I love you, I’m proud of you and the guys.” You said drying your hands then leaning against the kitchen counter. “Night Channie.” You yelled to the younger boy.

“Goodnight, did you make cookies?” He questioned appearing next to Jun raising a brow at you.

“Yes, I’ll save you guys some.”

“You’re amazing, thank you.”

“Alright, stop flirting with my girlfriend.” Jun mumbled pushing Chan out of the frame before turning to face you. “I love you, sweet dreams my love and save me more cookies than Chan.” He chuckled, throwing you a kiss before ending the facetime call. He sighed happily, throwing himself on the bed, pulling the covers up to his neck.

“Hope the two of you didn’t do gross stuff while I was gone.” Chan mumbled laying down on his bed, staring at him suspiciously.

“Of course we didn’t,” Jun nodded reassuringly trying his best to keep a poker face. “Go to sleep, I’m waking you up early tomorrow so you can tell me everything that happened tonight.”

“Whatever.” Chan mumbled, turning his back to him. Jun smiled, turning off the light of the room, his body finally relaxing for the first time in two weeks.

[ceoofuwu]

𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 ;; 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you may be Bakugo’s sister but, no one in U.A. had ever known about your existence, until you decided to pay a visit... little did you know that Bakugo wasn’t the only familiar person there...

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing (there’s Bakugo here, you shouldn’t expect any less lmao)

«What?! Bakugo has a sister?!» Mina exclaimed as she entered the living room, hardly having heard the rest of the discussion.

She sat herself cheerfully next to Kirishima, who had actually made space for her, quite eager to keep up with the gossip.

Not that she didn’t have every reason to. Bakugo was mysterious, kept things simple and to himself, always maintaining a distant and goal-oriented attitude, which didn’t allow for much personal investment. Therefore, wasn’t it reasonable for any given “friend” of his to be bound by curiosity?

«Oh shut up! As if you should care, raccoon eyes» he retorted coldly, with a casual murderous glare following shortly.

However, with her happy-go-lucky mindset and the habit of ignorantly listening to the merciless insults of the young hero, the pinkette didn’t mind him at all.

«I should, because when I become a pro hero, she might use some rescuing from me!» she announced, pointing to her gleeful self.

«Thanks, but I believe I can manage on my own».

A smooth, velvet voice cut through the room as the tapping of graceful steps reverberated.  A pair of delicate legs strolling confidently, accompanying a perfectly-shaped body giving off waves of tremendous fortitude.

During the time Mina had spent in the Academy, she had never witnessed, not once Bakugo, the Bakugo, expressing his fear. Now, in the face of his sister, he was wearing a mask of exactly that feeling; terror.

«Is that… are you…» she attempted, feeling solely gaps of air leaving her mouth in stupefaction.

You ceased your pacing, offering everyone a friendly smile, escorted with a gentle wave of your hand.

«Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/n».

«…you can also call her dumbass» Bakugo mumbled between clenched teeth, intending to make an impression of dominance but also wishing to hide from the tyrant of a woman opposite of him.

«Shut your hole boom-boom idiot!»

An array of giggles filled the air, lighting up the ambiance and therefore breaking the ice, before you noticed a black-haired boy observing you in what seemed to be… dread?

«So she’s also taken after your terribly unhealthy anger issues, huh?» his eyes shifted to your smirking brother while he spoke in a modest and careful voice, as if he had selected his words with extreme cautiousness, one by one.

Another polite smile tugged at your lips, despite feeling quite displeased by your first impression. «I’m nothing like this walking temper tantrum», your gaze travelled around the room, inspecting it and gradually getting used to the surroundings, «…so you are his class… mates…»  your voice slowly faded away as you met with one specific, too familiar person in the room.

It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be here… or, could he? As far as you’re concerned you’re completely sane, which only means that you weren’t hallucinating. A lump had suddenly emerged in your throat and you’d swear your heart had skipped several beats upon realizing what was happening.

«Why the hell are you staring at dunce face?!» Bakugo yelled, fury steeping his features as the urge to protect you took over.

«Dunce… what?»

Denki slightly rolled his eyes, although he seemed to have gotten accustomed to his nickname, and sighed as he struggled to appear collected and unbothered.  «Me».

You scoffed and immediately covered your mouth with your hand, to prevent an inappropriate laughter from coming out. You didn’t really enjoy making fun of others, especially people like him who stood so close to you, but… this just sounded too fitting.

Denki blushed and immediately looked away, in his miserable attempt to be “discreet”.

«Do you guys know each other?» a familiar-looking redhead boy enquired, pointing between you and Denki. Your acquaintance had his mouth half-hanging open, as if he was about to say something, until he met with the frightful message in your look.

No.

You were quick to turn and face the redhead, with calmness written in your features and say: «Not at all, I mean… I hardly know any of you… um… Kirishima, isn’t it?»

The boy’s crimson eyes widened in surprise by the mention of his name.

Seems like I got it right.

«My brother tends to mention you a lot at home…» yet another wave of surprise washing over him, «…mostly how shitty your hair is…» you paused and pondered a little on your words, «…although I beg to differ» you beamed.

Kirishima’s face resembled a mixture of contentedness and dejection. You supposed and hoped that the former was on you.

Even so, for some odd reason, Bakugo was still keeping an eye on Denki. Not that the latter was acting with any prudence whatsoever, what with his nervously avoiding everyone’s eyes in the room.

«So… um… is there a bathroom… somewhere around here..?» you asked timidly, feeling the need to freshen yourself up and relieve some of the tension of this fairly messed up situation.

Soon after, thanks to your brother’s interference, you arrested yourself in that longed-for bathroom, taking a breather in silence and clearing your mind.

Before arriving at U.A. you weren’t really sure how to feel. On the one hand, you genuinely anticipated finally meeting all those amazing, gifted teens that had got themselves involved into so many scandalous episodes. On the other hand, you were doubting your social capabilities of interaction and trembled at the mere thought of stumbling over your words, or making a mess of something as simple a task as that, in general. In fact, an array of worst case scenarios was bombarding your head, even until the second you stepped your foot in that room.

However, discovering that Denki, your Denki, was actually one of the renowned class 1-A students?

That seemed nearly inconceivable to you.

Indeed, you had been dating with the guy for several months now, yet, without neither of you realizing, the hero studies topic had never been brought up; at least not in terms of specification.

So… Denki was a basically a hero… someone capable of coming to your rescue at any given moment… a hero…

«I hope you’re lost in your thoughts about me» an all too familiar voice was heard from the door.

Speak of the devil and the devil will come.

«Denki, what the hell?! How-- why did you come here?!» you called frantically, all the while taking alarming looks around to make sure your privacy was guaranteed.

«Don’t panic. We’re alone. Besides, my dorm is nearby~» he chimed, taking small steps closer to you simultaneously.

«So you used your dorm as an excuse to…?»

«Don’t play dumb, Y/n… you know better than anyone why I’m here…» your boyfriend whispered while slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his slim body.

You felt the temperature rising in your cheeks and your mind suddenly going blank, as though a fuzzy mist had been blurring everything. You had decided to come here merely to relax before proceeding to make new acquaintances. You couldn’t figure out whether this was happening due to Denki being one hell of a horny pervert or his being a complete and utter idiot. Come to think of it, both statements were suitable at the moment.

In the meantime, Denki was ranting about his plans, his dorm and many other stuff that you didn’t care too much to pay attention to.

«You are a dunce face» you giggled, trying not to focus too much on his golden gaze, which almost pierced holes through your own eyes.

«What did you say?» his face was beginning to distort into a suggestive expression, his lips gradually stretching into a devilish smile.

«You… are… a dunce face» you repeated teasingly and more confidently this time, despite feeling the embarrassment crawling up on you on the inside.

«A dunce face…» he hummed after you, before pushing you gently against a wall, with you hardly realizing, «I wonder where you picked that up from…» he teased, his fingertips sliding underneath your shirt grazing your back, sending minor waves of electricity down your spine with every brush whilst eliciting slight gasps.

Your lust-blown eyes remained locked the entire time, forming some kind of connection, as your breaths were little by little merging into one and the space between you was getting smaller by every second passing. You couldn’t hold your urgencies back anymore; your arms glided on his shoulders, eventually getting wrapped around his neck, as your head titled to the side allowing to the blonde to lean in and touch his lips on yours.  

The subtle electroshocks being produced on your back combined with the feeling of soft lips dancing with even softer ones, wasn’t aiding you at all to restrain that low, throaty moan that escaped from your vocals.

The kiss was slow and yet, steeped with passion, dripping with all these raw emotions that were generated every time you’d encounter one another. Denki had you melting, desperately hanging on to him, as if he was your life line. As he nibbled on your bottom lip, you broke apart, both panting, your lungs burning for air, prior to your foreheads touching intimately, trying to calm your rapidly beating hearts.

«You should lock that doo—«

«GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER, DUNCE FACE!»

Before you even had the time to process what had just happened, Denki had done a runner, sprinting as fast as he could as he was being chased down by an infuriated Bakugo. It’s a pity you were marooned like this but, oh well, he was the one who had left the door unclosed….

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

[makeste]

I just wanna enable you to talk more about Katsuki so. top 5 (or 10, or however many you feel like) Bakugou romantic ships? not like number 1 will be a surprise but hey ;p

ah, shipping. the perfect topic with which to take a breather from leg puns and the quirkless!Bakugou debate. nothing controversial about ships lmao.

disclaimer: these are literally just my favorite Bakugou ships, as asked. I have few to no NOTPs, and I’m not anti-anything, nor do I have any opinions on whether or not any of these will or should become canon (as it really makes no difference to me, since I ship them all platonically as well). basically I have no skin in the “shipping somehow has winners and losers” game. I’m just here for the emotional energy and the lulz and the character development.

anyways this is a top six because I couldn’t bear to leave either of my two favorite rarepairs out whoops.

BakuDeku - like you said anon, not a surprise lol. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; for me, these two are the core of the series. honestly it sometimes strikes me as ironic that this ship is so often written off as abusive or unhealthy or toxic, because I often find myself thinking that roughly 90% of all of Bakugou and Deku’s problems could be sorted out just by them communicating with each other. and I don’t mean just their own specific relationship problems -- I mean all of their problems. Bakugou is having an emotional crisis about something? have him talk to Deku. Deku’s overwhelmed by a problem and way overthinking it? have him talk to Bakugou! they balance each other out, is the thing. when one of them veers off course, the other is the compass to steer them back on track. that’s the power of rivals!! and aside from that, this relationship is just so complex, and I am weak for absolutely all of it. it’s just this perfect blend of push and pull and friction and trust. it’s the type of ship where the two of them have such a strong connection that it’s like gravity; they can’t help but orbit the other, even when that orbit is sometimes unsteady. it’s just such a powerful bond and just... guh. I have way too many emotions about it so I am just going to STOP NOW and move on to the next ship.

TodoBaku - so by now we have reached a point where pretty much everyone in class 1-A is an expert on handling Bakugou, and ngl, it’s my favorite thing ever. but what makes the TodoBaku relationship so especially appealing is that Shouto is completely unafraid to just step right up and declare his friendship to the entire world. Todoroki “I’m calling it like it is” Shouto, who, after giving the matter careful consideration, correctly judged himself and Bakugou to be the closest of friends, and thus decided that they should intern together and he should introduce him to his family and get his sister to cook his favorite foods. and the entire time, Bakugou is all “please no one listen to this delusional freak, we are not friends at all,” even as he proceeds to get himself involved in all of the Todoroki family drama, and saves Shouto’s brother’s life, and learns all of his sister’s recipes, and presumably cries himself to sleep at night wondering how he could have let this happen.

Kacchako - what I like about Ochako’s relationship with Katsuki is that she’s one of the few people who’s not afraid to call him out on his shit. she’s not just warmly tolerant of him like some of the others; she has expectations of him, and will unabashedly express her sound disappointment if he fails to be the person she knows he’s capable of being. I feel like Ochako has no patience for him taking his sweet time with his character development, and is just “goddammit young man, just sort your shit out with Deku already and go back to being best friends like you both so clearly want, and while you’re at it please try to treat other people less like garbage”, and various other things that are all true but that he of course hates to hear, but TOO BAD lol. anyway so I love that, and I love that she’s just as stubborn as he is. and I also love that there’s genuine, mutual respect between the two of them as well. never forget that Katsuki is the one who first brought out Ochako’s homicidal badass side. anyway so they basically complement each other very well, and I have my fingers crossed that one of these days Horikoshi will decide to actually have them interact with each other again because damn.

KiriBaku - Kirishima, on the other hand, is warmly tolerant of Bakugou, and openly admiring of him even, but it tends to be in a way that brings out Bakugou’s best qualities. Kiri just has this way of bringing out Bakugou’s confidence in himself. like, he’s very good at saying precisely the right words to make Bakugou grin that smirky little grin of his, the one that’s all “oh yeah, that’s right, I’m a badass.” and seeing as Bakugou, for all his pride and bluster, is surprisingly prone to having mini crises of confidence, this is a valued skill that I’m very grateful to Kiri for having! and what’s nice is that Bakugou is very good at returning the favor, since Kiri is prone to crises of confidence as well. the little flashback right before Kiri unveils Unbreakable for the first time is one of my favorite moments in the series. when this ship is firing on all cylinders they really bring out the best in each other. and also they are both dumb bros which is an extremely undervalued dynamic. I love it when Bakugou is all “HEY KIRISHIMA LET ME BLOW YOU UP A BIT” and Kiri is just like “YEAHHHH!” heh.

KamiBaku - and now for the first of the two rarepairs! first of all I would just like to state that I absolutely cannot fathom why KamiBaku is a rarepair to begin with, unless it’s simply because everyone is already too obsessed with the previously mentioned ships. but at any rate it’s a damn shame, because the cuteness of this ship is off the fucking charts, and right now it’s all just going to waste. what I adore more than anything about this ship is the way Bakugou tolerates every single fucking thing Kaminari does and LETS HIM GET AWAY WITH IT. he lets him call him “Kacchan.” he lets Kaminari manhandle him into various getups (the A Band shirt; the Santa outfit) on multiple occasions while putting up absolutely no fight. he basically allows him an almost unprecedented level of closeness, which Kaminari proceeds to BLATANTLY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF at every turn seemingly unchecked! and he is the all time champ at tricking Bakugou into participating in social interactions (tying the ribbon to his foot during the Christmas gift exchange, telling him he won’t get any food at the New Year’s feast if he doesn’t help cook, etc.). he just loves him and wants him to be included. honestly this one of the most adorable relationships in the entire goddamn series and I am tired of it being slept on. the people deserve more KamiBaku dammit.

IidaBaku - last but not least, a relationship between two people who I’m pretty sure have only actually interacted with each other a handful of times, and most of those times involved them shouting at each other! ah, yes. the stick in the mud and the delinquent. god’s natural enemies. except that in this case the “delinquent” is a star student who tutors other kids and goes to bed every night at 8:30, and the stick in the mud once hatched a legitimate plot to kill a man. what I am trying to say is that these two are actually WAY more alike than they would ever care to admit, and I’m kind of obsessed with it?? this is one of those ships where all it would take is one well-applied trope and the possibilities are endless. you could literally just pick one out of a hat. fake dating, roommates, only one bed, undercover as lovers, WHATEVER. and not only does this have the potential to be the most hilarious ship in the history of time, but it also has potential to be disarmingly, shockingly sweet, I shit you not. there are a couple of little moments in the light novels that I absolutely adore, where they’re each taking care of the other with the other having absolutely no idea. Iida makes about four attempts to tuck Bakugou in during the forest training camp arc because his covers have fallen off and he doesn’t want him to catch a chill, and Bakugou unknowingly returns the favor by preventing Iida from stumbling across the preparations for his own surprise birthday party before the others are finished getting ready. by shoving Iida into an elevator and ordering him to go back to his room with absolutely no explanation given lmao. anyway, but the point is the potential is definitely there for cuteness and chemistry and mutual respect while arguing nonstop like an old married couple.

so there you go! honestly Bakugou somehow has chemistry with just about everyone in his class, which is super impressive for someone with the personality of a rabid wolf spider. god bless him.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Something Held | Feeding Habits Update #8

Hi all!

Not me not realizing it’s been 3 months since I posted a Feeding Habits update hahahahahaha. Today let’s chat chapter nine, SOMETHING HELD. This also marks the last chapter in Harrison’s POV so prepare to say goodbye to this icon!  TW: body horror, mental illness, trauma

Just a reminder: This is my original work and plagiarism of any form will not be tolerated.

Scene outline, excerpts & a little reflection on making difficult decisions that my not particularly benefit the book but benefit you as the writer under the cut because this update is GIGANTIC.

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed):

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting​, @aetherwrites​

Scene Breakdown

Scene A:

It has been two weeks since Lonan found Harrison at his shared apartment with Suzanna and things are getting strange. Lonan and Suz are getting closer, Harrison is getting more distant and slowly losing it. One morning, Harrison wakes hearing Lonan and Suz’s laughter, and crawls to the kitchen to investigate. When he reaches them, Suz is evening out Lonan’s hacked haircut and they’re both sobbing.

Scene B:

Shortly after this bizarre encounter, Suzanna steps out of the apartment for a breather because her son is sort of terrifying her! So Lonan and Harrison double-team to clean up Lonan’s hair shavings. Harrison begins eating the hair while Lonan stares and they have a conversation about the state of their friendship.

Scene Ba:

This scene is gross and confusing! More hair is ingested. My god.

Scene Bb:

After the above ordeal, both boys rinse off because they’ve been rolling?? around?? in??? hair?? but also?? things don’t stop being a little gross

Scene C:

An air of calm finally settles over the apartment. Lonan brews earl grey tea for him and Harrison to share and Harrison asks if he abandoned Lonan in the final chapter of Moth Work. Lonan doesn’t really answer this question so Harrison continues on his confused, but finally lucid (one-sided) conversation, admitting he understands he burdens his mother, who still has not returned. They circle back to the question of abandonment and Lonan answers Harrison the way he wants to be answered (yes), and this is a moment of freeing, where he feels some sort of responsibility in this irresponsible new life he’s led in NYC. They sort of agree to be friends again.

Scene D:

The boys head into the city to find Suzanna, heading to a bakery near the Hudson River. Lonan drives in his used car, a strange experience since Harrison has not seen him drive in years. Taking the opportunity, he searches through the car and finds a map in the glove compartment. The map is erratically scribbled over and it takes him to moment to realize this is Lonan’s map and the first indication that Lonan, who he has assumed is this stable, perfect person, is not as unscathed as he seems.

The boys pass the waterfront and Lonan nearly crashes the car into an oncoming truck. Harrison regains control of the vehicle tucking them into a side street. Shaken, Lonan apologizes for the mess he’s created both physically from his nosebleed and between Harrison and his mother, which gets Harrison a little antsy because he doesn’t like the suggestion that he’s going to leave. Lonan clarifies, stating he won’t if that’s what Harrison wants.

Scene E:

Later, everyone is back at home and Harrison wakes up to a Lonan-less bed. He gets up to investigate the strange dripping coming from the bathroom and opens the door to find Lonan precariously teetering over a sink filled with water. Harrison, concerned, moves him away and tries to ask why Lonan is presumably going underwater, but doesn’t push. They both stand on opposite sides of the bathroom until the sun rises.

My process:

Honestly, writing this chapter was a huge up and down. The first half of it came much easier to me, but the rest was a literal hellfire to get through. I think I was incredibly fatigued with writing in Harrison’s POV as I’d been writing it since June (I finished this chapter in either December or January). This book has been a pain in the ass to write despite me liking what it is, and I really think it being the only place I’ve physically “gone” since the pandemic makes it even harder to write. I felt claustrophobic in Harrison’s POV since I’ve been writing it for half a year, and in a lil ~breakdown~ my beautiful sister reminded me of something she’d previously told me, “it's not about what works, it's about what you want”.

Let’s chat about this for a sec! I think I was watching a Harmony Nice video on her “hard-to-swallow” self-care, and she basically outline (I’m paraphrasing here) that it’s critical we care for ourselves in ways that might not necessarily be easy to do. Honestly, leaving Harrison’s POV is one of those hard-to-swallow self-care things I literally had to do because my mental health was not happy with me! Y’all know my boys are very close to me, and I’m not picking favourites but Lonan is 2500 times easier for me to write with at the moment. I think Harrison’s situation and how he deals with it is much too similar to mine but in a way that is difficult to place (Lonan and I are unfortunately similar but in a way that is easier for me to understand about myself!). From the beginning of writing his POV I’ve been in Struggleville, but kept pushing through hoping the next chapter would be “the one”. Not to burst my own bubble but there is no such thing in the state of mind I was in! I was pushing myself to find something that doesn’t exist because my brain was really not equipped to do what I needed it to do. I really, really did not want to quit on Harrison’s POV, but I had to, not because I don’t like him (he’s my baby) but because I needed a moment to myself. I felt way too seen in ways I don’t really know how to address in myself, so writing him was horribly frustrating at all times (my fault, not his).

My characters really do live in my head rent-free lol. They live in there! They take up space! They take up energy! They take up concentration, and resources I need for myself! Empathy is so integral to my process, that I give a little part of myself in everything I write. This is a blessing because I really get to dig my heels into the mind of another person, but a curse because I’m not a machine (and sometimes I forget that). It is a lot of emotional energy and labour to give everything you have to fictional people. I don’t think an artist needs to be tortured to create good art (this is not it!) but I never truly practiced this well? In my attempt to be empathetic, I was torturing myself a little bit, not going to lie!

So to combat this, I decided I needed a change. Hence, this chapter is imperfect and probably needs some stuff added to it, and while I’ve only written little of Lonan’s second POV, I’m feeling a lot better! It’s nice to get “outside” in a different place lmao this is so sad (pandemic writing things).

Excerpts:

I wrote the beginning of this in a livestream I hosted on my YouTube channel! There’s also a shoutout here to my dragon tree Lisa <3 miss u boo

Two weeks go by. Lonan sleeps on the couch. Harrison wakes up at dawn—no earlier, no later. Suzanna buys a plant: a Madagascar dragon tree she names Lisa. June grows into the collar. Lonan plays sudoku in the newspaper. Harrison learns to bake focaccia, gluten-free, whole wheat. Suzanna learns to palm read, tells Lonan he’s experienced great betrayal (they stop the reading immediately; Lonan goes back to the newspapers). Harrison begins burning incense at sunrise—frankincense. The dragon tree nearly dies (Lonan saves it). It rains every weekday that contains the letter T. Lonan shifts stacks of soggy newspapers onto the breakfast table, answers crosswords with the help of Suzanna (four across, nine letters, Something held). Harrison burns a baguette. Suzanna buys a hanging basket of pothos. The power goes out for two days and the icebox floods the kitchen tile (Lonan mops it with old newspapers, the ink running like jellyfish). June barks for the first time. Harrison eats a bundle of dried bay leaves. Suzanna waters the plants with rainwater, icewater, wrung into a coffee tin. Harrison leaves the stove on while sautéing shallots (he eats them whole). Lonan wakes up feverish and fills out four newspaper crosswords, then falls asleep on the coffee table. Suzanna moulds panna cotta in coffee mugs and shares the batch with Lonan when they won’t tip out. Lonan teaches her how to propagate the pothos and soon they have twenty empty cans of cuttings poking from the windowsills. They rearrange the furniture, the couch facing the kitchen instead of the TV, the dining table right outside the bathroom, then put it all back the next day. They birdwatch from the tiny window with binoculars and a magnifying glass. They sort coupons. Whittle soaps. Watch Norwegian films without the subtitles. Discuss cliff diving. Make matching anklets (blue beads, elastic string, the plastic clacking how Harrison knows they’re coming). All of this they do as Harrison lies on his bed for two weeks, counting the corners of his ceiling and trying to determine a way to multiply them telepathically.

This is the very next paragraph!

At first he assumes they’re laughing. The sun nearly rising between other high rises, blotting his room with dawn. This is not a surprise. They are probably making pancakes out of buckwheat and discussing the hilarity of whole grains. They are probably laughing at store-bought cherry preserves. Too sour. Their cheeks puckered. But then the laughs get louder, and the sun rises higher and it’s not laughing at all, but gasping.

Here’s Harrison crawling!! is this straight out of the exorcist probably!

Harrison’s instinct is to crawl. As if his smallness against the ground will stop anyone from hearing him, even before he unlocks his door. On hands and knees he shuffles from his bed to his doorframe, edges the door open with his shoulder. On hands and knees he hikes through the hallway, the gasping getting louder, shuffling until he sees them. Lonan sitting on one of the kitchen stools, a grocery bag wound around his throat. Suzanna clacking scissors in two hands so their blades ping in the sun. Her fingers loped around his hair, knuckle-deep, the blades snipping, the gasps growing, them both sobbing, the hair falling, the sun stalking, their bodies rocking. Harrison takes it in from his crawl. Experiences it all on his knees.

So this excerpt seems really you know, normal:

They clean up the hair. Harrison with the dustpan, Lonan with the broom. Harrison still kneels. Lonan still cries. The only thing that has changed since crawling into the kitchen is that Suzanna is taking a walk around the apartment complex. She needs air. Room. If she cries long enough, a cigarette. So Lonan sweeps. Harrison collects. This repeats.

The kitchen smells of nutmeg. Freshly grated from a whole club over espresso, Harrison imagines. He smells this as he tracks Lonan with the dustpan, hovering its open belly for clippings of hair. And Lonan is so compliant, brushes cuttings of himself onto the plastic surface so Harrison can trash it. As Harrison looks on from his knees, Lonan diffuses in sunlight, the window illuminating only his edges. A body so familiar Harrison knows exactly where it flares with light or absorbs it. A body with skin like mulberry silk. A body he could recreate in charcoal with his eyes closed. His archangel translucent and luminescing.

Skip this excerpt if you don’t want to read about Harrison eating hair!! i’m sorry!

Harrison picks a bundle of fallen hair from the dustpan. It’s airy from being recently shampooed, smells faintly of pear, maybe even ginger. This hair, touched by a woman, or a few women, and cut by one, or a few, in different contexts. Eliza’s hands deveining the roots, and then Suzanna’s, trying to fix them. So Harrison eats it. That bundle like a toothpicked cube of cheese. He puts it in his mouth and swallows.

Lonan watches like he’s unconcerned. He watches this feral animal—Harrison must be something feral, starved of something and ravaged by that hunger. Chewing mouthfuls of hair like that will quell of him of what is missing, if there even is anything missing, something unidentifiable in this bland circuit of New York City, this time-loop of sonhood, this fresh start a dousing of flatness. As Harrison eats, he understands he consumes that something like it’s holy communion, reuniting with that something by absorbing it. And still, that hunger moves him, from finishing the dustpan of hair, and closer to Lonan.

“Do you think I’m a bad friend?” Harrison asks, wringing the corner of his lips clean from loose hairs. From this perspective, Harrison on his knees collecting hair, Lonan’s eyes look bluer. Maybe their saturation has nothing to do with the angle, but Harrison feels this is true; his eyes are so crystalline, they are temptingly edible. Like two plump blueberries. Or a matching set of clear glass marbles. Harrison swallows. He repeats, “Do you think I’m a bad friend?”

Lonan swallows, adjusts his grip on the broom. “We’d have to be friends for me to answer that.”

“Aren’t we?”

And here’s the rest of this scene!

“You’re my mother’s friend,” Harrison says. “She trusts you.” He crawls closer to Lonan. “You’ve got secrets. Rituals. Tell me her favourite finger-food and who she wants to marry.”

“I don’t know your mother that well.”

Harrison wraps a handle around Lonan’s ankle. A muscle there jumps like a dolphin breaching the water. He’s memorized this plane of skin, could rebuild it from single grains of sand while blindfolded. He furls his hands across its surface, unfurls.

“You garden with her,” Harrison says. “You share a plate for dessert.”

“She’s kind to me.”

“You cook her breakfast.” Harrison tugs on Lonan’s ankle, knowing it won’t raze him, knowing he’ll come down anyway. “You know the exact temperature she drinks her coffee down to the last digit.”

“I’m trying to be hospitable.”

“You’re trying to be a son.”

Lonan kneels. Crouching so they’re huddled over each other, so it’s nearly impossible to distinguish one body from the other, which one sinks, which one rises.

“My mother’s only got one son to live with,” Harrison says, his voice thin from a clogged throat. He reaches for Lonan’s scalp, scrapes a line down the centre, now an even plane of cropped hair. “And it isn’t me.”

“You’re unstable,” Lonan says, burrowing his face either into a cabinet or Harrison’s shoulder—neither can tell. “You won’t let yourself have friends.”

Farther, toward the tile they go, a pile of hair scattering. “My mother wants me to forgive you by replacing me with you.”

“She’s grieving,” Lonan says.

Harrison loses his hands. He doesn’t know where they disappear to, if he touches skin or tile. “I haven’t died,” he says. Skin or tile. Skin or tile.

Here’s an excerpt from scene C ft. this memoir bit from the time I was shocked that this university I visited had real FANCY teabags:

Lonan brews tea. Earl grey, from a tin. Harrison doesn’t know why he expects it to come from a bag. An individual paper sachet, or if he’s lucky, one of those fancy ones woven from nylon. But it’s from a tin. Two teaspoons into the bottom of a single mug they pass back and forth, wordless at the kitchen table. Strung in the bathroom, Harrison’s t-shirt hang-dries, nearly figure-like, an unfilled phantom. He tugs a throw around his shoulders and stares at his hands. Each crest of cuticle. Each bulb of knuckle. Each maze of fingerprints.

He is material. This is fact. Not just outlines. He’s got skin that goes pinkish when pinched, a pulse that juts from his wrist, two eyes that burn at the scent of lavender, ten fingers. But as he holds his hands up, studying them in the faint moonlight, it is difficult to believe his tangibility. In the city, he has lived as a haze. Fogging over grocery stores, eateries, nondescript. Fresh start has always implied an air of zest, a zing that should have fueled him to plant roots in this restart. But Harrison is rotten, aphid infected, overwatered, underwatered, then not watered at all. He flexes his fingers. He pops the joints. He tries to press his pinkie to the back of his hand. But none of this brings him back to himself. His hands continue feeling like someone else’s. His body invisibly marred in some way he can’t reverse, disconnected in retaliation.

Harrison reflecting on his relationship with his mother:

Suzanna has never left him alone this long, and to her detriment. He imagines her now, living the life she always should’ve lived, the life she lived before he crosscut his way to her most important thing. She’s probably at a salon, having her hair twirled with a round brush, making dinner reservations at some place always too expensive for two (extra points if it has a French name, more if she has to wait a half hour before getting a table). When she talks to her stylist, she doesn’t mention a son, but plans to travel up the west coast, all the way into Canada if she’s feeling adventurous. She’ll buy crime novels she’ll never read at duty-free, reapply a lipstick that cost her a paycheck in the reflection of a hand-dryer. After the salon, she’ll meet a woman at a wine bar, converse about children, and still not mention a son. Suzanna’s singleness will be a celebration.

The boys finally trucing it out <3

When Harrison finally opens his eyes, Lonan is staring at him. His eyes two reels of the Pacific. They cycle in blue. So much of him has changed, and yet he is still the same. Beyond the haircut, Lonan isn’t that much different. He can’t be much different. But as Harrison searches, splaying his palm on the wet table, he knows this is untrue. Lonan is hollower than he was last summer. A little more haunted. They have this in common, then.

“Can we be friends?” Harrison asks. With his pinkie, he finds himself writing against the damp table just as he did Lonan’s scalp not too long ago. Lonan’s gaze follows each loop of each letter, Harrison’s steady left hand.

Lonan is consumed studying what Harrison has written, where each letter connects in near-cursive scrawl. After a moment, he nods, once, twice, and then reverts to staring at the table’s new inscription. On its surface are two words: something held.

The boys in the car like old times <3

Lonan drives. This is strange because Harrison has not seen Lonan drive a car in over a year. Usually, Harrison takes the wheel, but tonight he guides them through the city, in search of Suzanna. His car is clean. This isn’t unexpected. A cherry-coloured hatchback that rattles whenever he makes a left turn. It smells vaguely of cotton air-freshener and the undercurrent of cigarettes.

“You still smoke?” Harrison pokes at the plastic nob for the radio, and it crackles to life. Synth and electric guitar pulse in 4/4 time.

“I bought it used.”

They’ve agreed to get to know one another while they search for Suzanna. Another restart, some attempt at an honest hour. As Lonan changes lanes, Harrison pokes open the car’s glove compartment. A tin of nicotine gum falls on the mat. A hot pink feather pokes from underneath the driver’s manual. Harrison hauls out both, runs the feather along the gum tin, then the back of his hand, and then Lonan’s cheek. When that rouses nothing, he unlocks the tin and removes a slit of gum. Right as he’s about to pop it in his mouth, Lonan says, “I wouldn’t eat that.”

“Why?” Harrison asks. “Did you lace it?”

“Like I said, I bought the car used.”

Harrison puts the gum back, and then the feather. He sticks his hand farther into the glove compartment, feels around until he drags out a map of the state, bilgy and half torn. He unfolds it, careful to avoid the rips, and flattens it against the dashboard. Almost immediately, it wilts against the cold, faded from time in the sun. It’s been marked up. Half with pencil, half with a red ballpoint pen. After a few minutes, Harrison understands the previous owner’s route. Or at least he does at first. Following the red pen arrows, they started at Long Island, then reached Manhattan. Then a much longer arrow takes him from Manhattan to Geneva, and then Buffalo. And then the red pen circles, once, twice, three times, four times, and what is in the centre doesn’t even have a city name. What it does say is HELP, in all-caps, each letter then melting into an illegible scrawl. Harrison sees bits of words: Luke, woe, hands, clay, guard, stray, each wobbly and disappearing into the other, becoming cities of their own, destroying others. He tries to understand the route, but the farther he pours over the map, recircling each line with his finger, the more lost he gets in the ink.

“Is this your map?” Harrison asks. There is no proof that it is. Even the handwriting is all wrong. Ragged. Confused. Desperate. Not like Lonan’s careful, hesitant print.

“Like I said, I bought the car used.”

“But is it your map?” Harrison asks again. Gently, he creases the paper and then slots it back into the glove compartment. Outside, they pass three convenience stores in a row, a flock of couples emerging from a bowling alley, tipsy and cradling leftover deep dish pizzas and mozzarella sticks. They pass two more convenience stores before Lonan finally answers.

“I was confused,” he says.

“This is more than confused,” Harrison says. “It’s disturbed.”

“I’m not disturbed.”

“But something is wrong with you.”

Lonan slows at a crosswalk. A group of teenaged girls whisk by in glitter and lip gloss.

“Yes,” he says.

This is Harrison trying to stop Lonan’s nosebleed after their bizarre swerve which I think is kind of <3 tendy <3

Harrison reaches for him. One hand on the back of his neck, and the other reared toward the red stream. His touch is tactful, so faint his fingerprints wouldn’t even be left behind, but still, the dabbing with his jacket’s hem is enough to redirect the blood’s flow from Lonan’s upper lip to the cuff of leather. The radio is still on, garbled like an unmassing of crepe paper lanterns.

This is the final excerpt for this update that takes us to the very end of the chapter! Harrison has just found Lonan supposedly head-first in the sink and though he asks at first why he is doing that, takes an alternate approach as the chapter closes:

Harrison gets up, his knees popping like gnawed bubble gum. He decides he will handle Lonan at a distance, if he chooses to handle him at all. Like a timid pet owner trying to tame their suddenly-rabid yorkie. Like a friend not trying to tip the full glass. To let its contents film at its surface, but never spill.

Somewhere in the apartment, Suzanna probably listens to them. If Harrison didn’t know her better, he’d imagine her pressed neatly against the door, waiting to hear the shuffle of their bodies or the tang of an argument. Instead, he imagines her at the kitchen table, gripping a glass of water for so long, half of it evaporates.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Harrison says, stepping back until his spine hits the counter’s lip. He curls his fingers under the granite. Looks toward the window, now a faint periwinkle. Lonan heaves. His fingers caging his face, an animal restrained. They stand there until the sun rises.

So that’s it for this gigantic update! I have like four short stories to update you on so I hope to be back soon!

—Rachel

[helliontherapscallion]

omg pls share the story abt the lecture from that girl’s dad (only if u feel like it) but seriously ppl it’s not that hard to put a mask on to help the spread of a virus. just wear it, it keeps u safe. and for the ppl who don’t care then just wait til it affects u, bcs covid isn’t a game. I just wish ppl were more serious abt it

Ok so sit down and buckle up kiddos and grab some snacks bc this is a helluva ride

Little background info: I have been a section leader for both my junior and senior years now. When the new freshmen came in my first year of being section leader I was hyped as hell. And then this new freshman whips out a lighter and lights it WHILE WE’RE INSIDE THE SCHOOL MIGHT I ADD with a straight face looking off into the distance before we ask her to put it away. She also always has a pocket knife on her that we found on the ground during band camp. I’ll call her POS. 

I tried to like POS I really did, but then she turned out to be a bigoted racist asshole (she also drinks deer blood straight from the corpse and simps over jeffery dahmer so even more red flags). It was extremely hard for me to treat her like I did with the other people in my section, but I managed to treat her the same as the other people and avoided her for the most part (thank god she wasn’t in my subsection I would’ve actually gone insane)

Flash forward to this year. Covid was hitting full force and we had to quarantine for the first two months of our season setting us back by a lot. She was wishywashy about rejoining but as the most senior leader of my section my band director was on my ass about getting a straight answer from her and fast. So I kinda had to force her to give me an answer (which she told me she was doing it quickly which leads me to think she already knew she was doing it) so she already was going into the season hating my guts

When we finally had an in person rehearsal for the first time, she wasn’t wearing a mask so when I asked her where it was she looked at me like I was the dumbass and said in a matter-of-fact tone “it’s in my pocket” and pointed to the confederate flag bandana hanging out of her pocket. Those four words told me that this season was going to be a fuckin long one with her. I just deadpanned (she couldn’t see it tho bc mask, sunglasses, and floppy hat blocking my entire face) and said “I’d rather it be on your face. (band director and marching instructor’s names) will have my ass if they see you not wearing one.” She rolls her eyes and puts it on (at least it was over her nose)

A few months go by with me telling her constantly to put on a mask bc I am responsible for my section and I’d be damned if one of them got sick bc of one idiot being stupid that I could prevent. She is getting madder and madder with each passing rehearsal. 

Band camp rolls around and it changed from 5 13 hour days to 15 3 hour ones and I am already done with her bs. We get our dots and I mentally groan bc she’s next to me for the vast majority of the show. She is between me (an asthmatic) and my close friend (vvv immunocompromised and also hates her, I’ll call her S) so now I’m more worried about covid going around the section. It was in this time that I find out that at least 5 other people out of 20 also have pre existing conditions that make them susceptible. So now I make it even more my mission to make her wear a mask. 

It was in the middle of band camp when she is yet again not wearing a mask (we were just marching without instruments) and I turn to her and as kindly as possible (it was the second time that day) asked her to put on her mask. She once again rolls her eyes and says “ya know, (band director) walked past me 3 times and hasn’t said shit, so I think I’m gonna listen to him and not you.” S and another friend of mine looks over in shock cuz she just talked back to me. They were about to say something but I wove them off. POS wants to fuck with me? Fine. I’ll just go full force with this. She wants petty?? I’ll give her petty, I’ve been holding off all season. 

So I’m marching there for the next twenty minutes quietly seething and counting more aggressively. She’s getting annoyed, but I pull the section leader card and tell her that she needs to be counting as loud as I am bc her feet was lowkey off time. After we break off for a gush and go (very short water break), I go straight to my band director and use my limited water break to tell him what she told me. He apologizes and says that he thought she was just taking a breather. He tells her to put on a mask and she does so and glares at me the rest of the rehearsal. 

She blocks me on all social media and I obviously clown on her in private with the other section leader (he’s more of a pacifist and never really told her to wear a mask which kinda pissed me off but I understood) until she makes a passing comment to my other friend about using the knife she kept in her boot. Now he tells me cuz he’s a good friend and I’m shitting myself at that point bc holy shit I might get shanked. 

I think about telling the band director but I realize that there’s no proof of her saying this and she could easily get out of this so it’s kinda pointless to tell anyone. Plus if she did shank me, she’d get into so much trouble and I’d be laughing at her from my grave/hospital bed. 

Many rehearsals go by and she still refuses to wear a mask so after one rehearsal S and I went to the band director and reminded him about our conditions and told him about how we were worried for our safety (I also told him abotu the other vulunerable ppl in the section) and he says he’s gonna do something. Next rehearsal he gives POS a warning and she begrudgingly wears a mask for the rest of the rehearsal. The next rehearsal rolls by and she isn’t wearing a mask (again) and he sends her home. Major victory for S and I.

The next sectional tho was something I wasn’t expecting. I get there like 10 minutes before it starts like I usually do in a good mood. I get out of my car and go to grab my stuff when a massive white truck with a busted muffler pulls up into the parking space next to me with a cloud of black smoke. The window rolls down and reveals POS’s dad and POS herself in the passanger seat. 

Of course I’m thinking that this is the day I die and start mentally preparing to yell for help to my other section members 100 feet away on the field already.

Mans starts to lecture me saying things like “it’s unhealthy to wear a mask outside bc it’s like a pitri dish under there. 6th grade science!” (I am not joking or overexaggerating with this, he actually said that). I really wanted to say “well, 7th grade science says otherwise, but you wouldn’t know that bc I’m sure you didn’t pass 6th grade, but go off ig” but I didn’t bc I didn’t want to get shanked or disappear randomly. I just tell him that I am only doing what my band director told me to do and that there are tons of people (myself included) that can really get hurt from just being in contact with covid. He says that’s bullshit and tries to tell me that I’m an idiot before I cut him off by telling him once again that I am just trying to protect my section and that the sectional was going to start soon so I didn’t have the time for this. I walk away leaving him trying to keep talking to me and soon enough POS gets out of the car and follows me to the field giving me a smug smile on her unmasked face before she puts it on when she sees the other section leader stroll up. 

Lemme paint the picture for you: this guy (a 6′something burly guy in his 50′s that I know has like two felonies under his belt) pulls up next to me (a 5′2 17 year old ball of anxiety that drives a small yellow car) and starts to borderline yell at me. Traumatizing. I was shaking for the rest of the sectional and I spent the rest of the season looking over my shoulder looking for the glint of a knife swingin at me

Now I’m pretty sure she’s suspended bc she was caught with a knife on school property and she wore a confederate t-shirt to school, but I would be lying if I said I don’t still look over my shoulder or speed up when I drive past her house lmao

[nvcl347]

hey, i really hope this isnt too nosey/invasive of a question but. what exactly is coffee time with g-man? im really curious bc the little things i've seen on your blog & lavolat's are super intriguing 👀👀👀

Oh, it’s no worries at all! Basically, Coffee Time with G-man is an AU narrative being done by my friend Lavolat that was started back in July of last year. It originally was a Q&A sort of thing with the G-man, but it eventually ended up fleshing out into a big story. One of the key aspects about it is that there is more than one G-man involved. As of now, I believe there are canonically 11 distinctive G-men right now, and every one of them has a different name, different personality.

Of course, several other familiar faces from Half Life are also involved in the story itself beyond the G-man, as well as a couple new characters with the codenames NVcL347, KV1, |53N. To quote from Lavolat herself, “they’re actually characters made by my friends. in order to give the story more depth this season, i decided to incorporate them into the story, so we have a bit of a breather from other stuff going on. and limiting a lot of gmen storylines just for the comfort of people. since this season is taking a serious tone already. these characters are to provide some relief.”

There is stuff that goes down with Coffee Time with G-man that also happens outside of Tumblr, so things that I myself or my friends make about it that seem out of context as to what’s happening on Lavolat’s blog, where the canon narrative is happening, is just from stuff we’re doing off to the side or things we’ve come up with on our own. I’d definitely recommend you check out Lavolat’s blog to catch up on it if you’re interested. I’ll admit there’s quite a bit to catch up on, and the most organized way to see what’s been going down from start to present is going into Lavolat’s archives under the #coffee time with gman tag and having the Ask filter on. I would summarize the story itself, but that would be... a lot of other paragraphs, lmao. It’s best to read up on it on your own. Feel free to ask Lavolat or myself more about it if you’d like! We’re very open to talking about it.

[feliciohno]

I'm back but not without a quick psa

Okay ik I do like these little psa bullshits all the time and I am sorry and ik only like maybe 5 people care I'm just the kinda person who feels the need to over explain constantly even though ik I don't have to. Anyways, this is hopefully gonna be a quick thing and done but I just need to talk a little bit about my coming back and some changes to the blog so lets go.

So, I'll be honest, I'm not fully ready to come back. Just being frank but the only reason I'm coming back after about a month is because I wanted to take part in a Chaggie month during may and this is the blog I use for that kinda stuff. But I didn't want to reopen the blog and then just post about Hazbin cause honestly I'd feel bad. I know I say time and time again that this blog isn't JUST Hetalia but I'm not dumb, I know what you guys followed the blog for. And it's not that I blame anyone because where the content isn't only Hetalia it tends to be mostly Hetalia.

If it wasn't for the Chaggie month I probably would have stayed away longer ngl. Don't get me wrong, I do feel much better than I did when I first left. I just still don't feel great. Without getting too much into it, my brain doesn't really do great things sometimes. Whenever something bad happens to me it often will latch those emotions to things in the moment. Sometimes it's stuff like food or a song but a lot of times it's shows and characters and ships. It sucks cause it very often tends to hit special interests the most. There really isn't a special interest I have that I can enjoy without issue except maybe bats. And ik this is typically a trauma response but like? My brain recently has started to do it outside of trauma? Like I'm pretty sure I haven't gone through any trauma recently?? So idk man it's dumb and hates me. Anyways, there's still some characters and ships and stuff for Hetalia that I really can't look at without panicking lmao. But honestly it's okay. I'm kinda use to this kinda stuff by now?

Basically my hiatus was so I could step away from people and just like the show by myself. I blocked tags, I only interacted with the show and drew stuff for it when I felt like I wanted to or could. I only talked about the show with an extremely small select group of friends and even that was on rare occasion. There's a word for what I was trying to do but I can't remember it rn it's like re-something therapy. But whatever so yeah. And honestly? It was working really well. It's still working really well. I feel better than I did before. But like? It's still not great. There's gonna be stuff that still messes me up. This isn't the kinda thing that goes away over night and I knew that going into my hiatus. But! You guys stuck with me (from what I can tell) and I genuinely thank you all for that! So like yeah I am coming back to the blog including Hetalia posting. I'm probably gonna keep the tags blocked though and only look at like certain mutual content and stuff. Just stuff that I know for sure isn't gonna idk set me off (I desperately don't wanna call any of this stuff triggers cause then that's admitting how much they actually emotionally affect me and I'm not even gonna go there lmao).

That's basically it in regards of my hiatus BUT now I gotta talk about some changes to this blog. Nothing huge just two minor things.

The first thing is this blog is now my Problematic Media blog AND my blog to put Gore/N S F W content on. The main reason for this is I got accepted to be an artist on a blog called @/ponydoodles (if you like mlp related content go give it a follow :> ). One of the rules though of being an artist is the main blog you use and that is associated with your mod title can not have any extreme gore or N S F W content on it. Which like, I don't blame them for making that a rule. The mlp fandom has a lot of bad rep cause of older and probably even still modern fans. I have my own opinions on that kinda stuff but that's neither here nor there. So yeah! Any content of mine that is too suggestive or gory will be posted here no matter the source. Please make sure to block any tags of stuff you don't wanna see. And just a quick note, I will not be tagging N S F W content as such because those posts get blocked and it's FUCKING annoying. Instead I will be using the tag NSFT (not safe for tumblr) which from what I've seen is what most people are using these days. As for gore I always do my best to make sure everything is properly tagged with more intense or triggering content.

The last small change to this blog is this- I will no longer be posting about non blog related content on here. Lemme explain a little. I'm sure a lot of you noticed that I tend to make little posts here and there about myself, my life, cartoons just anything on my mind. The problem with this is I ended up almost killing my main blog @hext00ns because I was never fucking using it. And because I never used it for so long I don't get much interaction from people on that blog but I did start to get it here. From there it was a loop. I'd post more on here, causing less attention on my main, causing people to interact more with my side, causing me to want to post more on my side and less on my main. And honestly? It actually made me kinda depressed? In a weird way? It's kinda dumb but Hextoons is like my brand. Being the weird cartoon freak that knows way too much about animation and anything involving it has always and will always be my main and in some cases only personality trait lmao. It's also where I post my original content which is really important to me. So, here's what's gonna happen. I'm only gonna be posting about content that pertains to the sources and content that I use this blog for. Any other content or blogging or whatever will go on my main @hext00ns So like if you liked that kinda stuff or if you like other cartoons, anime, and video game stuff, just god please go follow that account. Genuinely. I promise that blog is full of the same F- bullshit quality all my content tends to be.

And one last thing cause I feel like some people are gonna be curious, yes you can still talk to me about Hetalia and send asks and shit. I still love asks and interactions more than life itself and that hasn't changed. It really is what motivates me to do shit. Comments, tags on reblogs, asks, this kinda stuff puts a fire under my ass to continue and create content that, I assume, you guys like. I'm always open to that kinda stuff on either blog. And where yeah, Hetalia kinda makin' me sad still just a bit, I am better. And honestly? I have the physical ability to just? Not check my notifs for a day or so if I need a short breather or I'm not feeling up to it? Like tech is so amazing how you can exit out of apps and windows like wow guys it's so crazy (/s/j).

So yeah, your fruity little Italian is back from superhell what's up bitches

[choicesreal]

About me.🗣

🗣Well, first of all..I was born on 30th of October. It’s a pretty boring and uneventful day lmao. I’m not going to say the exact birthdate, however it’s in the 2000′s.🤸🏽‍♀️

🗣My pseudonym’s Silsha, and my real name also starts with a “S”, I’m just keeping it secret ‘cause I want to keep that mYsTerIoUs vibe going on, is it working?🥺

🗣I’m from the Philippines, born and raised. I am also full Filipino (or at least I think so? My mom said we have a lil bit of French blood in there, so..🥐oui 🥐 ).. I was actually supposed to be raised in the US, but my mom’s visa got declined. She went to US last year though! (not me getting jealous but ok.)

🗣I’m an ambivert. There are times where I’m shy as fuck, and times where all the nastiest in this world’s dictionary comes outta this big ass mouth. There are times where I grab any opportunity to keep away from other people and just stay in my room with my trusty book and earphones, while there are times that I go out with my friends and go to the mall or chill in their houses. (ofc, before COVID happened.)😷

🗣I’ve played Choices since early 2018, and boy, if my past self would look at how addicted I am to it now, past self would run screeching to the ends of the Earth.  🏃🏽‍♀️ 💨

🗣My favorite books from Choices are Open Heart (this is the one fucking reason why i’m stuck going crazy over one blue-eyed spoiled child diagnostician called Ethan Jonah freaking Ramsey), The Heist Monaco, A Courtesan of Rome (the main reason why I’m OBSESSED with ancient Roman history, and why I want to go there on my birthday.), Platinum, A Royal Masquerade, Perfect Match (though I wasn’t able to finish it..) Blades of Light and Shadow (my bb Tyril 😿) Distant Shores (FUCK YOU PB, FUCK YOU.) Queen B,(yeah, I know it was such a mess, but I kinda liked Ian ;-;) and last but certainly not the least is....Most Wanted!

🗣The other games that I’ve played and stayed for a while was Romance Club (please, please, please support and check this app out! It’s really worth it and won’t disappoint you!) and Chapters (this was the game that I’ve also been obsessed about too! Aside from Choices, when I took a little time off of Choices and went inactive with this account, this was my only safe haven then, with all of those schoolworks pouring in, it was really hard to take a breather.)

🗣What does Choices mean to me? It means the world to me, the absolute world. Hell, because of it, I got to meet so many nice and appreciative people here on this platform itself.(Thanks, Tumblr. I’ll make sure to give you a five star rating if I don’t forget it again😭) I got included in a community that I felt really comfortable to be in, and most importantly, it made me happy. I consider it as my safe haven, from being depressed and anxious. I’ve never really acknowledged myself as one, but it’s noticeable, even to myself. I just don’t show it. Our education system here sucks, just..no words.

🗣My favorite singers are (internationally): Sabrina Carpenter, Camila Cabello, Taylor Swift, Dua Lipa, Adele (queen, please come back🕊),The Weeknd, and many more that I can’t remember. 

🗣My favorite songs now are: (pls try to listen to them if you have the chance!) Skin by Sabrina Carpenter, Earned it by The Weeknd(yeah no actually, every song of his is my favorite, sorry not sorry.), Tango by Abir, This City by Sam Fischer, Safety net by Ariana Grande (all of her songs in her newest album, no actually all of ‘em!), Loves Control by Camila Cabello (another artist who’s powerful enough to make me love all her songs.) and so many more LMAO i’m just lazy to type all of it, it’ll go on for decades.

🗣I almost forgot- I’m a she. It may come of as a shock to others, some not, but yes. LMAO. I think it’s pretty obvious from how I talk online.

🗣I’m a pretty chill not chill student. (not me lying to myself to make me feel better.) But really, I don’t put that much effort when it comes to education, and I didn’t even review when it comes to quizzes and exams back from 1st-6th grade. What changed? Well, the fact that became older and became more self-conscious about it (my grades). But, I still don’t give it my all partly because of my belief that we should enjoy our youth. Studying too hard may hinder that. And so, I did just that. I’m not particularly a naturally intelligent student. I’m just observant and can be pretty hardworking if necessary (groupings for school projects and stuff.) I’m not the type who goes and becomes a leader in one group cause I can’t handle the pressure and I don’t give enough authority vibes to be listened to (I can though, if y’all push my buttons too far.), however I act as an assistant leader, who also helps in anyway I can and handles all the research (’cause I love learning new things online, and I love to research.) And so, I kinda became a With Honors type of student. (sHocKer.) And honestly? I don’t regret putting a bit of effort in school, because I get to see how proud my parents are for me.

And if you’ve made it this far...you’re a complete sTalKerR!! Nah, just kidding you’re cool. LMAOO. Thank you for reading this short-filled information about me, or also known as @choicesreal. It’s been really fun to type this out, because I might come off as kind of a closed book around others in the community. This is a text to let you learn a few bits and tiny details about me! Part 2? Maybe. It really depends KDJHAKDJH. And now it is time for me to end this post as my eyes are stinging.

With that, Paalam muna. (From my native language, it’s translated as “Goodbye, for now” in English.)

[pompadorkery]

(The anon who from that ask)I know that Lucy and Angelo are femboys, but what is the thing that you find about woman you can't relate to, is it because of thier femininity? well that's contradictory. And yes, if lesbians write about m/m smut they're not gay. Why would they be writing smut, for money? I find it bad that the only female characters who are relevant in your OC stories are just there to be hated. I also find it bad that you project onto Lucy who's supposed to be a bad person.

This is @machonachos. Pomp isn’t used to dealing with absolute morons but I’m pretty fluent so it’s my turn to tag in. Based on this message, I can see that you’re just talking out of your ass here and have no idea what you’re even on about. But I’m gonna go point by point, as is my specialty.

For starters, Angelo is not a “femboy”, as you put it. A man having a slender frame does not automatically make them feminine. I suggest doing a quick search on body diversity, since you seem unaware that people come in all shapes and sizes, regardless of gender.

Secondly, and most importantly imo, is the complete headassery that comes next. Like, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen this much ignorance all at once. I cannot believe in the year of our lord 2020 I have to explain to someone that a feminine man and a woman are not the same thing, and genuinely, the fact that you think that is pretty fucking homophobic. As a feminine gay man myself, I’m real tired of having this discussion. Feminine gay men are not women. They are not raised as women, they are not treated like women, they do not want to be women. If you are so close-minded that you can’t understand that a man can care about his appearance/be honest about his emotions/reject traditional gender norms/whatever other shit you deem ‘feminine’, then why are you even here? This is the blog a queer creator making queer content. See your heteronormative ass out.

Lmao I bet you think all women who wear pants want to be men too. But on that note-- saying that lesbian creators that make mlm content aren’t gay? L M F A O. Did you source all of your LGBT+ information from Fox News? Like you clearly have never spoken to queer people in real life. Since you love making broad assumptions, I’m gonna make one of my own and assume that you’re cishet. I’m sorry to break it to you but LGBT people are individuals, not whatever list of stereotypes or rigid caricatures you’ve been led to believe. These takes you’ve got like “feminine men = women” and “lesbians can’t be interested in anything non-lesbian because then they’re not really gay” are so outdated and ignorant that I’m not even gonna bother unpacking that. Either do an ounce of research or shut the fuck up and don’t talk about things you know nothing about.

“Why would they be writing smut, for money?” Uh... yeah? Or because they fucking like it? They want to make content for a ship they enjoy? Who gives a fuck ‘why’ they’re writing it, it’s their business. Mind your own.

If you think all the female characters in the OC stories are there to be hated, you clearly don’t know much these characters. Reed’s mother, Sanka’s mother, Kieru’s mother, Kieru’s sister, Morgan, Lady, Boë, Priscilla-- all of these are Pomp’s female characters and they’re not antagonists in any way, shape or form. They’re all perfectly fine women, be they kind and outgoing, intelligent and serious, confident and strong or what have you. But it’s not like you care about that, right? No, you’re just here to judge. And I know this because of the last bit. The bit about Lucy being a bad person and how it isn’t okay to relate to him because he’s bad.

I can spot anti rhetoric from a mile away. Bro if you think that liking bad characters or villain characters makes you a bad person, go outside. Take a breather. Have some self-reflection time. And realize that the world isn’t black and white. People are not strictly good or strictly bad; they’re complex and have a multitude of complicated and often contradictory thoughts and emotions.

But most importantly, if this horseshit of an ask is what you have rattling around in your head, I suggest you unfollow. We’re not here to please you. Our content ain’t gonna change for the likes of you. If you any questions or concerns, I dropped my @ up there so you know where to find me 😘😘