#it keeps repeating

[ashirahime]

|| OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP PLAYING ‘ WHAT ARE YOU DOING STEP BRO’  BRAIN AHHHHHHHHHh

[melyzard]

Jyn + hair

When Jyn Erso was born, squalling with rage at the indignity of life, the midwife cleaned her quickly to minimize her exposure to the harsh cold winds of the Vallt prison camp. Jyn had screamed through the whole process, wailed as she was wrapped up tight against the chill in torn shirts donated by a few kind-hearted fellow prisoners, bellowed until her little face turned bright red as the midwife held her out to the courier. “Well,” the courier said as he snapped a quick holo as proof of life, “at least she’s healthy, ay?”

“Good lungs,” the midwife agreed with a nervous grin, because the guards at the gate were staunchly ignoring the little cries but one never knew what would set those Separatist bastards off. “Got all her fingers and toes.”

“And hair,” the courier glanced over his shoulder at the guards, and then abruptly reached out and stroked a quick, furtive hand over the baby’s dark, fuzzy little head. The midwife watched him closely, because some of those allowed to pass between the camp and the factory up the hill were as two-faced as that job implied, but she also allowed it, because on Vallt, touching a newborn was not just good luck for the adult, but it was a tiny promise to the baby - I shall not harm you. May the world follow my example. 

Then the courier was off, through the gate and up to the factory, where presumably the babe’s other parent was laboring under the Separatists’ beady little eyes, may the Force curse them all with anal worms. The midwife spit twice and turned to settle the squalling little babe against her exhausted mother’s chest. “It’s done, then,” she said as quietly as she could and still be heard over the high, furious screams.

“He’ll get it,” the mother asked, her face still pale and her voice faint but her arms coming up to wrap around the babe as tight and strong as any new mother. “Galen. He’ll get the holo, he’ll know?”

“You paid the price,” the midwife reassured her, which was as close to saying yes as she was willing to do. After all, one never knew with the couriers, or the Separatists for that matter. “He’ll know his daughter.”

“She really does,” the mother said quietly, looking down at the baby, who was still crying, but fitfully now, as if she wasn’t sure her complaint was worth the effort but she also wasn’t willing to let it go so easily, either. “Her hair,” the mother clarified, or attempted to. The drugs that one of the other prisoners had managed to smuggle in for her yesterday were finally taking effect, pulling her under and giving her body a chance to recover from a birth done in a thin, open-sided tent in the middle of Vallt’s brutal winter. “She gets that from my side of the family,” the mother whispered as the midwife tucked more ragged shirts around them and sat close, lending her body warmth as she could. “We were all born...hair...she’s like me, I was...”

“Aye,” the midwife soothed. “She’s just like you, love, bless her little head. Bright eyes. Dark hair. Strong, particularly in the lungs.” she glanced at the babe, then at the guards. “Strong,” she muttered again, and then sighed. “She’ll have to be.”

[chara7052]

I've never even seen be more chill but that fuckass michael in the bathroom song is stuck in my head and i hate it

[squiddle147]

This is broken broken

[bleteza]

Give me MY BABY back

[sundaysvoid]

You know those songs that transfer flawlessly into the next? For some reason my head has convinced me that ‘The best of both worlds’ transfers straight into ‘Celebration’

[celofanedymond]

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[replikayt]

The devil, and the rest. the only one of my life I can't wait for you to know that you are a lot. the only one of my life I can't wait for you to know that you are a lot. the only one of my life I can't wait for you to know that you are a lot. the only one of my life I