#act 2 will always be poo from the ass but i find there are moments to love in it

[givingblood]

I will say that although Arcane had a lot of missed opportunities and I feel like their priorities were in the aesthetics first, I have to hand it to em for what they gave me in season 1 and act 1 of season 2, that was the most comprehensive cohesive power house of story telling I've ever watched.

I think something got lost in translation, they saw people loving the music from ekko & jinx on the bridge and the hype online from the fight scenes and decided this was their strength and while they are perfect at it, their strength was always in their character writing and story telling.

I don't blame the excitement of trying to blast your audience with the best animation and sound design ever but it really made me miss the subtle moments, the ones that made me fall in love with Arcane.

I liked how grounded season 1 was, it had magic ofc, it had different species and otherworldly elements but I could follow it, I could interpret how the story may go, predict steps or theorise on possible outcomes given how the characters interacted with the world around them, in season 2 I felt completely blindsighted, there was no point trying to anticipate what would happen with Mel, why Ambessa was scared, Who Viktor is or will become because it never set up the environment in a way to be able to do so.

It was like putting you inside a whole new reality (literally sometimes) and you just had to hold on for dear life while it showed you shit you never expected to see. There were no base line rules, no nothing. This is where I started to disconnect from Arcane and associate it with League of Legends, it felt less like a battle of two cities and more like 40 League shorts stitched together.

But what they gave me with Caitlyn and Vi is a feeling I've never had before, I'm a bit older and I've been cynical all my life about the importance of representation and how I could never really connect with media in these sort of ways, and I think it took one good lesbian couple, who are complicated and interesting characters for me to go "wow, this is what everyone meant by representation"

I'd never connected as much in my life to a character as I did Vi, someone who just cant let go, a big sister, angry, hot headed, masculine in her appearance and a ball of guilt and self sabotage, like just being able to see a person like that in media taken seriously and not thrown to the corners of the internet under "woke garbage" was so heart warming for me.

Anyway I did not intend to rant like this at all.

I love Arcane and I will for a very long time and I'm so happy I got to experience it. Nothing is perfect and I'm just grateful.

[neighborhood-merc]

It is I, and I am back with more a new list of fanfics for this wonderful ship called SpideyPool. 

Listen, I don’t know why I’m doing this as well (maybe because I fuckin love these boys and want to share my fave fanfics of their ship to everyone...or whatever) but here we are. [ Here are Part 1, 3 btw! ]  

Same shit applies:

The themes of the stories on this list varies, I’m either into something heart-warming, fluffy, domestic that sort of stuff or into some really really heavy and dark messed up ones. It always depends on the mood am I right? *wink wink*

It’s always gonna be smutty though lol

As long as it’s tastefully written, whatever kinky shit, I can be into it, I don’t judge the writer. With that being said if I add something straight up messed up here now/or in the future, don’t judge too, just mind the tags of the fic, for your own discretion if anything.

this list should be Wade Wilson/Peter Parker - Spiderman/Deadpool pairing only. I kinda like my babies greedy/possessive for/of each other.

I don’t care who tops or bottoms.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summaries are taken directly from the fanfic’s summary.

Read the tags first!

Wolves [ Update: Sadly, the fic has been deleted :( ] (This is WIP, but I swear it’s so fucking good you should read it. It’s a Prison AU, and the writing is sublime)  Peter is falsely accused and sent to jail, where he meets the violent ex-mercenary, Wade.

Don't Forget To Check Your Calendar! Peter REALLY should remember to check his calendar or Peter forgets that he has a heat coming up, and in doing so causes several sticky situations to occur (thank god for Tony's NDA's).

Communication Error “Have you seriously been doing this bit for a year now?” “Bit… what bit?” Wade looked at him, confused. “This,” Peter waved his hand, “the 'we’re dating' bit.” There was a pause, and then suddenly, it was like Wade’s whole body imploded. His shoulders sunk and his head dropped and suddenly Peter knew he’d made a huge mistake. “Hahaha, yeah, the dating bit.” He held up the wine. “One year of one really bad, horrible joke.”

Night Off Wade is taking the night off when a certain Spider calls for help.

The Great Florist, Wade Wilson (this ones got a Sequel) Deadpool has found the apartment belonging to Spiderman. Or Peter Parker, if the name on the door is anything to go by. Now some people might use this information of said secret identity wrongly. Normally Wade would have been one of them. But this is different. This is Spider-Parker, I-mean, Peter-man, I-mean, fuck. Now Deadpool just have to figure out exactly what he is gonna do with this information. Which is quite simple really. He's going to leave Spidey flowers and win his heart this way or the one, where Deadpool spams Spiderman with flowers, and Spiderman has no idea what's going on

Tale As Old As Time, Song As Old As Rhyme (This belongs to the series  “A Spider in the Pool”) It is absolutely fucking good, I recommend you read them. Do read the warnings though yeah?) Peter Parker gradually falls for Wade's dubious charms. They have a lot of hang ups and kinks to negotiate, but with sex this hot, Peter can't help wanting more. Erotica with significant plot and relationship development.

Help Me, Peter Parker, You’re My Only Hope! “I need your help,” Wade admitted. “And why would I help you?” Peter asked with an amused chuckle. “Because, um, I asked you? Isn’t it what you do? Help people who ask for it?”

Damage Peter Parker finds himself in a sticky situation and who should show up to rescue him but the infamous Deadpool? Now Peter feels indebted to the mercenary... And maybe weirdly charmed by him.

I'm Serious Wade wants Peter to top. But he really, really doesn't know how to ask.

Shake it out (this series is a good boi)

Sick Days  "Wade." "Mr. Rogers." They stared at each other, one calm and silent in his fury while the other looked like a deer about to be pummeled by an eighteen-wheeler. "I'm sure you have a reason for being in my son's bed without a shirt on?"

Love Me Dead Peter tries to tell Wade his feelings. It's kind of a train-wreck.

Disgusting -Spideypool (5+1) This is a Wade Centric fic containing topics of mental health struggles and self image. Nothing too graphic but still.

Flip the Safety They both get a little carried away when they fight, but this time Wade grins over his gun and the worst part is that Peter knows he doesn’t plan on shooting him.

Do It Yourself “I bet you’re flexible enough to suck your own dick.” Wade plants that thought in Peter's head and he can't help where curiosity leads him.

Looking for a savior in these dirty streets  (WADE YOU LITTLE SHIT LOL) what's your opinion on eating ass? just looking for a yes or noThat's the text Peter gets when he's in a meeting with Anna Maria, trying his hardest to get back to running a company a few months after an unexpected trip to the underworld.

Act your age (not your shoe size) “Wanna go grab some grub? I have it on good authority there's some qual-a-tee Mexican around here.”Peter’s mouth drops open. “Uh, you always invite guys you just met out for lunch?” Deadpool laughs and leans forward. The words are muffled when he says, “Only the ones I meet in movie theaters.”

That's the power of love (cute af fic) “Yeah, so, about that. Nice to meet ya, I’m Wade Wilson but def not your Wade Wilson although I gotta say, I’m jealous of the asshole.”

Baby, i’d victoria your secret anytime (another good boy) Peter’s known Wade for a while now, so he can maybe see how this makes sense -- like, maybe Wade has a thing about going commando and just happened to have an old girlfriend’s panties lying around, one thing led to another…but…“And the bra?” Peter croaks.

It's The Alcohol Talking It wasn't every day that Wade came across a drunk-off-his-ass Spider-man.

Marco (this is fuckin’ hurt ok???) Spidey was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Took no time with the fall (Part One of “wasn’t looking for this” series) When the Avengers had briefed him on Deadpool, they played up the Kills People for Money and Has No Real Morals angle and left out the Is Pretty Damn Funny and Charming in a Weird, Terrifying Sort of Way part.Or, five times they meet on rooftops plus one time they take it to the streets*

Now you're in my way (Part Two of “wasn’t looking for this” series) Wade's been with the Avengers for four months. The two of them have been together for five.Their relationship consists of taco-based dates, a ton of sex, and, well, Avenging.

The Stalking of Wade Wilson "It’s around this point that a niggling thread of thought worms its way into his head when he’s not paying attention, one that gently suggests that Wade might be slightly less of a bad guy than Peter previously thought."

Seeing the real you (it's not what I imagined) "The fuck,“ Deadpool said slowly. He was staring at him in a way that made Peter feel decidedly uncomfortable, and this was saying something, considering Deadpool had a habit of leering at him at the most inappropriate times. "Are you kidding me?" he eventually gasped. "How OLD are you? Twelve?“

I'll Always Protect You Anonymous said: If anyone is up for it I have a rescue prompt idea where Peter (he is not in his spiderman suit) is taken as a hostage with a gun to the head along with a few other civilians. Peter is warning the criminals to let everyone go otherwise his fiance,Wade, will kill them all. They mock him and beat him up. Then a furious Deadpool saves Peter by the most badass way possible. Also I would love if someone write how unnervingly skilled Wade is as a mercenary. Please? Anyone?

Your ass is mine  Spidey takes a toilet break while on patrol. He wasn't expecting Wade to join him.

When I'm Inside You Spiders are hard to catch. When Deadpool manages to pin one down on an NYC rooftop, he thinks he deserves a prize.

Daddy It had started as a joke, which was conveniently how most of these things always happened.

Any Means Necessary Anonymous said: Abo au where Peter is a young mutant who both displayed his heat early before his adolscent stage and spidey powers that went out of haywire the moment his heat started, leaving him to thrash around the city, running away from his family. Wade Wilson, an alpha, who happens to be a professional mercenary for hire, is now paid to catch this mutant, and try and calm him down by “any means necessary” because Peter, even as an omega is swrecking havoc amongst the city. [ 1/2 ] Of course, Wade takes those words seriously, and decides to just do that solution by first, capturing and drugging the young omega, and then, placing him in what could be described as a special and adjustable breeding stand in Wade’s attempts to calm Peter down. [ 2/2 ]

One Fear (Two Fear), Red Rear (Pink Rear) (Note: Now this is where “read the tags first” is applicable af. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you dude) Anonymous said: Hello, another one for you: Deadpool adopts MCU Spidey and treats him like his actual child. That is until Peter starts growing up more and Wade can't help but feel attracted to him. At around age 15, Peter starts actively trying to seduce Wade. Wade resists, but in the end gives in. My kingdom for hardcore daddy kink, Sub!Peter, Wade calling him a good boy/baby boy. 

Wo Rauch Ist (this fic is fucking gold) "Someone needs to write a ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’ AU" 

[tales-from-the-can]

New Year's Dump

As the new year approaches, this would be the perfect time to share a story of a New Year's Eve when I was out celebrating at a local dive that is no longer in existence. But served as the perfect setting for me and the massive shit that I had to take. I had been holding it in directly for this purpose, for over a day and a half. The wait of it was really growing on me when I showed up in the early hours of the evening before the late night crowd arrived to bring in the new year. The venue was a little out of the way bar with a small dance floor, pool table, and back patio. This particular little saloon was known for being the type of place where guys not only hooked up, but often was where the action actually happened. There where blow jobs, hand jobs, and indecent exposure every weekend and Tuesdays because that was the night of their 2 for 1 specials. Until I arrived, there hadn't been any public poopers. The restrooms where just like little stalls with toilet and sink. There was a men's room, and a unisex room. No urinals at the time. The little men's room was at the back wall with a divider in front of it creating this little hallway with the bathroom door to the right. The door would open to a little room the size of a broom closet, with a toilet on the left and sink on the right. The door had it's own lock on the knob. The entire place was decked out for New Year's, complete with streamers, party poppers, little party horns, and hats that spelled Happy New Year of course. I grabbed me a hat and ordered the first round. As the evening wore on into night, more men started to show up (many in their leather fetish outfits ready for a night of dancing and decadence) . As is always the case my body was opening up for what I anticipated I would be doing as soon as the time was right. I clenched my butt, to remember it was not time yet. I was wanting it to get busy and crowded, which I new it would be as we started getting closer to midnight. I did make an early trip to the men's room not only to pee, but to make sure the toilet seat was up so it didn't get pissed on before it was time for me to sit on it. Around 10:30 or so I made an appoint to get a good buzz going to seem like in my drunk state easy to forget little things like locking the door to the bathroom. (Heh,heh,heh.) The men's room was in constant use. There wasn't a line or anything that big, but someone was always opening the door to walk in frequently, and locking the door behind them. When someone else went to use it, they would turn the knob without knocking, and if it was locked they'd use the unisex bathroom instead. I knew it was going to be perfect when I saw that no body knocked on the door. I knew what would happen if the door wasn't locked when someone was in there. I was sweating with anticipation. Soon midnight rolled around and we counted down, then cheered when it hit. There was Champagne served to everyone there including me, and that's when I decided it was time. I had a bottle of beer, had just finished off my Champagne, and as soon as I knew the men's room was vacant, I made my way through the crowd, (who where already getting frisky with each other, as well as checking me out.) to that door as quickly as possible, wearing my party hat, holding my party blower in one hand, my bottle of Corona in the other. I went into the phone booth sized bathroom, and locked the door behind me, but only temporarily, so I could put the seat back down into place, get my pants and underwear down, and sat my sexy butt on to the old fashoned, perfectly rounded, nicely clean seat pulling up my shirt to better expose my thighs and hips. I could hear the massive crowd that flooded the outside of the door throughout the saloon. As I could feel the pressure building, I relaxed then clenched my cheeks to hold my log in place. Then I reached out to the lock on the doorknob, and with a smile of anticipation turned the lock to unlock the door. I grabbed my beer from the base of the sink, held my party blower in my other hand, and waited holding my loaf until I knew for sure that coming to use the bathroom. In about a minute or two, I heard some one approach. As soon as I knew they where about to open the door, I relaxed my sphincter and tried to conceal my anticipation and took a swing of my beer. Just then the knob turned and the door opened. I immediately lowered the beer, then blew on the party blower, and drunkenly blurted out "Happy New Year!" as my poop pushed it's head out my bare bottom, now feeling like a cork in my ass. The man standing there had a thick mustache, and was wearing his finest leather ware. His eyes got really big and his mouth made an o shape. "Oh, I am so sorry. " he said. "That's Okay ", I said "I'm to drunk to care." He then shut the door. It was such a rush, that I continued to clench and relax my hold on that poo, and this time pushed the door open just a little bit. This way I knew that anyone else on the other side of the would think that it wasn't occupied because they would see the door slightly ajar, implying vacancy. A few minutes later, another man opened the door. Much older this time, wearing glasses, with a grayish white beard. I repeated the same steps as before wishing him a happy New Year. He raised his eyebrows at me, then shut the door. As I continued to concentrate on this massive shit I was taking, the evening moved on with men opening the door on me to use the bathroom, and find me sitting on the toilet, in my New Year's party hat, blowing my party blower wishing them a happy new year. Some of the guys would shut the door immediately apologetically, while others would close the door slowly while locking their eyes on me as the door was being shut. One guy said oops, when he opened the door and saw me and closed the door, only to open it up to look in again the moment he closed it, and then did it again and again until he had done it five times. After I finished, I locked the door so I could wipe. I had finished my beer and threw the bottle into the little waist basket. I stood up, pulled my pants up, washed my hands, flushed, and walked out into the party. I felt multiple eyes on me as I walked up to the bar to order another drink. The bar tender told me I didn't need to pay for it because someone already paid for it for me. As I drank my last beer of the night, one of the guys who opened the door on me, smiled and winked at me. For a moment I thought maybe he bought me the drink, only to find two other guys who opened the door smiling at me, so I wasn't sure anymore. The hour of 1AM rolled around, there was a circle jerk going on in the back room where the pool table was, and I was ready to head home. I told the bartender to thank the guy who bought me the drink wishing him a happy new year, then headed out. I haven't had an experience as incredible since, even though I tried. Busy nights like tonight, especially after midnight is the best time, if you want to be caught in the act. Fetish clubs and bars are the best places to do it as long as you try to make it look accidental. Using the hat and party blower, offered an extra gimmick making it more outstanding, and for future reference, would make an excellent photo opp.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Pt.3 poly!Marauder (back because of popular demand)

Co-written with @80s-addict! Love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu friend!!! :’) Here’s to our late night chats, Marauders spam and utter devotion and adoration of @asktheboywholived, without whom our Marauder!feels would go untreated.

TW FOR NSFW AHEAD

Me = normal

80s = bold

Part 1 | Part 2

- And sleepovers because Remus: "We all literally share the same bed every single night?" 

- Sirius: "This is different, Moons! It's a sleepover!" 

- Remus: "I'm still confused?" 

- James: "And I'm not really into it--IS THAT POPCORN??! I'M IN. C'MON MOONS." 

- Remus: *is dragged into the master suite where you and Sirius have set up a literal blanket/pillow nest and set snacks everywhere* "...This could work." 

- You: "Wait 'til we get the movies going! I can't wait to cuddle!" 

- James: "I'm here for that but also POPCORN and...pillow fights!" 

- Sirius: "Yeah and games!" 

- Remus: "What games?" 

- You: "No, Padfoot. Don't you DARE!" 

- Sirius: *smirking and looking at you while talking to Moony* "Oh, you know. Just...Truth or Dare...and...Spin the Bottle." 

- You: "Sirius Orion Black that was not the point of this sleepover!" *James and Sirius are sharing shit-eating grins and laughing at your exasperated expression and laugh even harder at Remus' confusion* 

- James: "We'll explain it to you later!" *sees your death glare* "Uh...a-after movies, of course! C'mon Moony let's get you into pj's!" *James rushes a confused Remus to the bathroom to get changed leaving a rather uneasy Sirius along with a rather angry you* 

- Sirius: "Wait! Prongs! Don't leave me al---HELLO Sweetie, how are you?" *he smiles sweetly but is wary of your temper* "Uh...I love you?" *You are still upset* "What's that Prongs? Uh, Y/N, Jamsie-poo needs me, Moony got stuck...BYE!" *Sirius Orion Black defintiely does not run away from his girlfriend and absolutely walks calmly to his boyfriends. Absolutely. Definitely.*

- Remus is the chef of your little family 

- He cooks literally every meal 

- Without fail (except for full moons, but even then, he's got food ready in the fridge)

-  Remus wears an apron Sirius made him

-  It's a night scene in the forest with a beautiful gray wolf howling at the full moon 

- Remus definitely was not a fan at first but now it's rare he doesn't wear it 

- James definitely does not cook 

- He has trouble cracking eggs It's hopeless really 

- But he's an absolute grill master

-  Like give him steaks, burgers, whatever, and you get a masterpiece 

- James gets smoke on his glasses and you have to help clean them and guide him around 

- James definitely has the "Kiss the Cook" apron 

- You three definitely obey the apron 

- You make family recipes and cook dinner sometimes Deviled eggs, brownies, and cookies can always readily be found 

- You have a lace-trimmed 1950s-style white apron and another that has a hen standing in front of a rooster that reads  "The rooster may crow, but the hen delivers the goods"

- When you wear the 50s apron Sirius kisses you and calls you his "Beautiful wife" (because "Little woman" is not cool) 

- When you wear the rooster/hen apron James and Sirius make a big show of walking carefully around you and barking "YES MA'AM" with grand salutes and rushing to  whatever you've asked them 

- You and Remus just laughing at these dorks

- Okay but like 

- Sometimes Sirius wears this more than you

- Like even if he's not cooking

- You can catch him waltzing around the flat in it

- He just loves it so much

- Almost more than you do

-  Which is surprising because it's a family heirloom

- Just Sirius in black skinny jeans and a black button down, top buttons undone and sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair thrown up into a messy bun, and wearing this apron

- You in dark skinny jeans, an oversized Def Leppard t-shirt, your hair also thrown into a messy bun, wearing this apron

- And the marauders just groan because

- James: "How are you //that// attractive just baking? HOW?"

- Remus: "James, is that really necessary? I--"

- Sirius: *Holding James, the both of them rocking back and forth and sobbing dramatically* "I KNOW, PRONGS. I KNOW. WE'LL MAKE IT THROUGH THIS //TOGETHER// HONEY."

- You and Remus: FFS we're married to a couple of drama queens

-  You: "You okay there, buddy?"

- James: "SO PRETTY."

- Remus: "Are you quite finished?"

- Sirius: *James and Padfoot share a knowing look and a pair of matching grins* "One more, Moony. Ahem. WHY?!"

- James: "Now we're done. You do look really hot though, Y/N."

- Remus: "Finally!"

- You: *are most definitely very upset with your overly dramatic boyfriends and are defintiely not amused nor are you blushing - nope, not you* "T-Thanks, James, Padfoot." *You give them a half grin because you can't help yourself but you also want to remain neural for Remus' sake*

- James: "Anytime, Love." *He kisses your cheek*

- Sirius: "We really do love you, Sweetheart." *He kisses your temple*

- You: *Very much blushing now* "I love you, too. All of you."

- Remus: *sighs* "I'm married to a bunch of saps." *He scrunches his nose as all three of you move to kiss his face at the same time* *James goes for the left cheek, you go for the right, and Sirius kisses his left temple* *Somehow you all manage not to crash and leave a very bright red Remus standing in the kitchen while you head out to the living room to binge on freshly baked snacks and Netflix*

- "H-hey! W-Wait for me, guys!" *Remus rushes into the room and crawls between you and James*

- *Sirius is on the floor but decides it's absolutely necessary to take a running jump and lay on the three of you*

-  Remus: "SIRIUS! NO!"

- You: "OOF! WHY?"

- James: "OW! FUCK! MY BOOB!" *Laughter erupts at that*

- Sirius: "Prongs, you dork."

-  Sirius is an exceptionally skilled baker

-  Like holy, shit, where did he learn that? 

- He never tells you while you're at Hogwarts but instead chooses to march into the kitchen one day, don your rooster/hen apron, and shoo the rest of you out.

-  You, Remus, and James all looking worriedly at each other because: 

- Remus: "There's gonna to be such a mess!"

-  You: "I hope this doesn't go down like the time he tried to build that birdhouse. I'm still finding pieces in the garden. It's been 2 years!" 

- James: *Face is paled, he's swallowing a lot and visibly sweating* "A-are we...going to have to...eat...it?" 

- Remus and you: "SHUT UP PRONGS! HE CAN HEAR YOU." 

- Sirius: *Suanters out of the kitchen sometime later, his hair in a bun, flour on his face and still in your apron* "All finished. You coming?" 

- Sirius watches amused as you and Remus try to hide the fact that James needs to be dragged into the kitchen. 

- You all three decide to be as supportive as possible and eat a cookie at the same time. 

- James acting like he's about to take a shot 

- You and Remus rolling your eyes (but are also kind of concerned because it's Sirius and since when does he do anything domestic?)

-  All three of you take a bite of the best damn chocolate chip cookies you've ever had 

- Not being able to hide the fact that you all most definitely moaned rather loudly over said cookies 

- Sirius smirking in the corner because "If I'd have known you'd like them so much I would have provided a change of pants." 

- Remus rolls his eyes at Pads but continues to eat his cookie (that surely isn't his third...or was it fourth?) 

- James doesn't register Sirius' comment because he's too busy leaning over the plate and stuffing his face with cookies 

- You all laughing at James

-  You enjoying your (definitely not fourth or fifth) cookie and you're trying to tell Sirius how good they are but you can't get the words together (especially around a mouthful of cookie) so you finish eating and walk up to him 

- He doesn't see you immediately because he's looking at James who at that point has eaten most of the cookies and Remus is exasperatedly trying to save some for the rest of you

-  You taking advantage of that and pulling Pads to you by the apron strings and kissing him feverently 

- He's caught off guard but quickly pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around your waist while you wind yours around his neck

-  Sirius: *pulls away to catch his breath* "So...you liked the cookies then?" He smirks as you playfully hit him on the chest

-  You: "Yes, you little shit. How come you never told us?" *Remus and Prongs look up from their cookie battle, interest peaked*

- Sirius: *shrugs and rubs the back of his neck* "It, uh, just never came up, I guess. You really like it?" 

- You: "Yes, of course we do! They're so good! Thank you, Pads!" *You give a chastise kiss to an absolutely calm Sirius. He is defintiely not blushing* 

- Remus: "They really are delicious, Sirius. If only *someone* would share!" *Pointed look at James* 

- James: "So, so good, Padfoot!" *Sees Remus' glare* "What? You had some! They're SO good!" 

- You and Sirius watch your husbands bicker over the cookies; he's got an arm slung around our shoulder 

- Sirius: "I suppose I should make more, huh?" 

- You: "In a minute. Let me kiss you first. Besides, this is getting good." You and Pads can't help but laugh as you hear a loud *THWACK* and look over to see a very upset James rubbing his hand and a very stern Moony moving the plate of remaining cookies away from James' reach 

- James: "But Moony!"

- Remus: "No! Save some for the rest of us! Besides, you'll spoil your dinner! I'm making pasta!" 

- James: "But I--Pasta? Hmm well okay then Moony. Suppose it's for the best. What time did you say dinner was?" Remus rolls his eyes and you and Pads laugh even harder. 

- He presses a kiss to your temple as you're still laughing and starts to clean up the kitchen with a very hungry James pestering a very annoyed Remus at the island and you next to Sirius at the sink, doubled over an laughing your ass off

- Never feeling alone, even for a moment. Not ever.

- If one of the Marauders is busy, you have two more who have your back.

- Or, if you’re busy, they have each other.

- Always laughing.

- You joke that you’ll develop crow’s feet earlier than your peers from all the laughter you share.

- The floor is the new wardrobe when you all move in together.

- Until James bustles in, tuts and begins to clean up, ignoring the horrified faces of you, Sirius and Remus.

- Until he picks up one of Remus’ jumpers, pauses and seems to pale.

“Oh. Oh. I’ve turned into my bloody mother!”

- Sirius’ bark like laugh at James’ indignant tone sets everyone else off.

- James doesn’t tidy for months after that.

- So you and Remus take over.

- The boys always reward you, though! ;)

- It gets kinda crowded, but no one really cares or ever mentions it.

- It’s family.

- There’s an entire cupboard filled with chocolate.

- When one of you offend or hurt Remus in anyway, the most obvious apology is to put chocolate in his cupboard without him knowing.

- Once, you put chocolate in his cupboard late at night, dressed in one of Remus’s shrts.

- You were teary because you’d really messed up - you’d spilt tea on one of his favourite books.

- When you turned to leave the kitchen, Remus was leant against the doorframe, arms crossed and watching you with a stony face.

- You tried to slink passed him without saying anything and he’d caught your wrist and spun you to look at him.

- He’d pushed you against the wall and had held you there with hisbody, every plane of him pressed against you.

- “Hush, love. I forgive you.”

- His lips caught yours hungrily and he pressed you back into the wall.

- “Starting without us, I see.” 

- Sirius was suddenly in the room, a wolfish smirk on his face.

- James came investigating five minutes later to see where everyone was and, well...

- It was tongues, teeth, sweat, skin, muttered curses, messy, chaotic... 

- No one knew who’s teeth were whose, whose limbs were whose...

- It was raw, unbridled passion.

- It was perfect.

- And the most important thing?

- No one died. Ever.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

HP Tags: @bingewatchingmylifegoby @sky-the-llama @chloeolivialuce @ll-kirra-ll @miyakokurono @cardboard-box-of-stuff

[moonprincess92]

A family can be 2 traumatised soldiers and their 30 kids (3)

1, 2 

Read on AO3 

Part 3 

It seemed that most of Echo One was in awe of Sergeant Jyn Erso.

The youth class had gone from something soldiers were practically scared of, a place you were banished to, or something almost akin to punishment … to the most requested group of recruits to work with out of the entire base. It was hard not to feel proud after having watched them grow and learn over the past several months. 

She tried to get the class out of their room as much as possible. Once, she sent them on a scavenger hunt throughout the entire base, just for a lack of something to do. Sometimes, they piled on jackets and went out into the freezing snow and acted out mock battles. The pilots seemed to love it when she would take them to look at the x- and y-wings, so she often took them through the hangar.

“Right, kids! Who can remember all the different parts?” Luke Skywalker would ask enthusiastically every single time.

It … it wasn’t the life Jyn had ever thought she would have. But she felt like it was still good. Her pages of notes were endless now, the walls almost unable to be seen, and she felt proud even at her kids’ tiniest achievements. Like when Vance had finally managed to win a sparring match, or when Lyle was thoughtful enough to comfort Dan when he had sprained his ankle, or Warrin when he had read an entire sentence without getting side-tracked once.

She felt for these children almost like they were her own. She was kind of ok with that.

“Jyn,” she felt little Arlo tugging on her shirt. “I gotta poo.”

Only the words ‘the Empire has found us’ could induce more immediate action. Jyn quickly crouched down to Arlo’s level, “Ok, then go to the toilet.”

“But I want you to come with meeeeee …”

“Arlo, we’ve been through this,” Jyn sighed, her head dropping. “The refresher’s just down the hall–”

“I’M POOING NOW.”

“ARLO,” Jyn stood hastily, grabbing the boy’s hand. “Ok, ok, fine I’ll come with you!”

Thankfully, they made it to the refresher in time. Arlo sang to himself as he sat in the cubicle, Jyn leaning against the open doorframe to the refresher, attempting to at least keep an ear out for the rest of the kids back in the classroom. She really needed to come up with some kind of buddy system for Arlo so that she wouldn’t have to come with him every goddamn time. Calling out an encouragement to the boy, she checked her commlink as something to do, only to find that there was a missed message. It made her pause.

If she wasn’t mistaken, it was from General Draven.

Why in the hell he would want anything to do with her was utterly beyond Jyn. He quite famously didn’t like her and it would absolutely be in her best interests to just ignore it … however, her curiosity eventually won out. She called back, and he answered gruffly and very impatiently.

“Finally! Sergeant Erso, I’ve been waiting for an answer all damn day.”

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy making sure these kids don’t shit themselves,” Jyn said, dryly.  

“WHAT DOES SHIT MEAN?” Arlo yelled at her.

Jyn chose to ignore that as Draven clearly was unimpressed down his end. Without any kind of preamble, he said furiously, “I’ve been trying to contact Captain Andor all day – is he with you? Because if so, tell him to get his ass back here immediately–”

“Captain Andor sure as hell isn’t with me,” Jyn frowned. “He hasn’t even left the sickbay yet–”

“He was discharged this morning,” Draven cut in with an air of I don’t have kriffing time for this, Erso.  

But she stayed silent. She’d understood that Cassian was due to be discharged today, but they’d already agreed days ago to wait until she’d finished class for the day so that she could be there. Why … why would he leave without her? It didn’t sit right. Jyn stuck her head back into the refresher, ensuring that Arlo was finishing up now, before quickly snapping back at Draven,

“Look, I don’t know where he is, so your time would be better spent harassing someone else. If you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

“Jyn?”

She glanced down to see Arlo watching her curiously. Jyn immediately put on a brighter look and held out her hand for him to take. “You’re all finished?” she asked.

“I did poos!” Arlo grinned.

“Good. Let’s go back to class.”

She shouldn’t worry.

Cassian was stubborn, but not stupid. He had been itching to get out of the sickbay ever since he’d been put there, and honestly his blow to the head really hadn’t been that serious compared to other injuries he’d had in the past. Technically no, Jyn probably didn’t need to be there at all, and she was sure that there had to be a good reason for him to leave without telling her … it still just rankled slightly. Threw her off, made her uneasy. She forced herself to not let it show on her face all day until finally, she was dropping the kids back off at their barracks. She immediately turned around and stormed for their bedroom.

He wasn’t there. He also wasn’t in the mess hall, war room or Intelligence HQ. By the time she did finally find him, hiding somewhere in a corner of the hangar, she was cold, tired, and more than slightly pissed off.

“Cassian! Is this where you’ve been all damn day?” she called out, spotting him half-hidden behind a stack stolen weapons that had been recently smuggled in. He looked up from his datapad, eyes wide as she stormed towards him. “Draven’s pissed as hell looking for you, why did you leave the sickbay without–?”

“I’m sorry Draven got mad at you,” he said.

Jyn watched him in bewilderment. “But not sorry that you left the sickbay?”

He just shrugged, apparently unable to look at her. She knew that his head injury had been a bit of a shock to the system, but his face was unnaturally pale as she watched him sit there, knuckles tense as hell around the datapad. She took a tentative step forward, but he quickly clambered off the crate he was sitting on. “I’m ok, Jyn,” he insisted, before suddenly brushing around her and walking away.

Jyn stared after him, anxiety churning in her stomach.

I didn’t ask if you were ok.

Belatedly, Jyn realised that the sound she had heard was the door opening. 

She was somewhere between awake and asleep and should have felt glad. Cassian was back. He was on base with her and he was coming to bed, but all she could feel was something blocking her throat, closing it over. She struggled to get her heart back under control, facing the wall and ignoring the temptation to move. There was no point in moving, besides.

She listened to the pull of fabric, the movements lethargic, clumsy. Slowly, footsteps made their way to the bunk, his body sinking into the mattress behind her. It wasn’t like they usually slept wrapped around each other. Sometimes it was nice when the nightmares called for it, but most often she would have been content with just blindly stretching a hand back, squeezing his hip or thigh or whatever body part she could reach. Letting him know that she was there, waiting for the responding caress of his hand on hers before retreating.

But she didn’t.

She wanted to roll over. Wrap an arm around his torso, press her face into his shoulder blades, maybe kiss the skin there a little. She wanted to hold him. She needed something to hold onto …

But she didn’t.

This was supposed to be their second chance. The Force had allowed them to live (or so she sometimes believed) and she would never forget that moment on the beach. She wouldn’t forget the regret and the remorse over a lifetime that wasn’t to be theirs, clinging to his body as if that might make it all better. Perhaps in another universe they had died, but somehow in this one here they were and all they could do was the best they could. Healing took time, and they had been getting somewhere together. They’d been getting better. This was supposed to be their time.

But ever since returning from that mission, she had only been able to watch helplessly as he descended into something that he apparently couldn’t escape from.

Something had clearly gone terribly wrong that day. Cassian was retreating into himself, something she’d never seen him do before now. He stopped volunteering to help out with the youth class and made excuses every time Jyn tried. Eventually, she stopped asking. If they happened to come across each other in the corridors, he would somehow find something that required his full attention. He never showed up in the crowded mess hall anymore for dinner. The only times she ever really saw him was at night, always when he was finally slinking in at an hour that she should definitely already be asleep by. She couldn’t even be comforted by those moments when they were side by side again. She was always left waiting in the dark.  

Had she been less aware, Jyn might have thought this behaviour was exclusive to just her. But she knew him. She knew Cassian Andor, his passion for the rebellion and the ability to power through shit like a machine. She had to know Cassian by now and whatever the hell this was … it wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t ok.

“How to help people,” Jyn announced. The children sat in a large circle with her around the edge of the mat as Jyn spread out the large sheet of paper and wrote ‘how to help’ in large block letters across the top. “Sometimes, it’s hard. Sometimes, people don’t want you to help them. We have to think very hard about what to do sometimes, so that’s our lesson for this morning. Has anyone ever helped someone else before?”

Several voices called out at once before Jyn could hastily remind them to put up their hands if they wanted to say anything. She called on Carina, who announced, “I helped Kady with her aim yesterday!”

“Good – Kady’s aim is getting better every day,” Jyn praised, and luckily the other girl could now understand her words. “Anyone else?”

The answers came thick and fast – I helped Ava finish eating her dinner, I helped Lyle put on his coat, I helped a soldier by telling him the best way to get to the gym – but when she posed her next question, the children had to think for several moments. “How do we help?”

Many seemed to want to just name more examples, but Jyn needed to get down to the very basics of what ‘helping’ meant. Luckily it was Aden who said, “We help by listening.”

Jyn smiled and handed over the marker in her hands. “Good start. Write it down. What does Aden mean by ‘we help by listening’? Trina–?” 

“We have to listen to the person we’re helping?” she asked. “Because then we know what they need us to do?”

“Great point – you can write that down once Aden’s finished,” Jyn told her. “Anyone else know how we help people?”

“We need to understand them,” Rivi was the next to answer, surprisingly articulate for the girl who was usually very much all about herself. “’cause like, everyone’s different and some people might want you to help by talking to them and some don’t. I’ll always remember this one time when the Queen of Provi once–”  

“Shut uuuuup, you’ve never even met the Queen of Provi,” Vance rolled his eyes next to her.

“FINE,” Rivi sighed. 

“Vance just demonstrated that really well, guys,” Jyn pointed out. “Rivi sometimes needs help remembering not to lie, and Vance knew to do it by just telling her. He understands her really well.”

The two now 14-year-olds exchanged slightly embarrassed looks.

Throughout the lesson, Jyn noticed that there was one who never spoke. Not speaking up was fairly normal for a number of the children whose first languages were not basic, but Talek she knew understood her perfectly.

She had struggled to get to know the boy who she could still remember first being brought to the rebellion. It was like he’d never quite recovered from whatever it was that had resulted in him being here. Like Ann, he stayed in the background, but the similarities ended there. Ann was quiet, but loved her older siblings very much, and would still smile and chat to Jyn about her day. Talek, on the other hand, Jyn didn’t think she’d ever heard more than five words from.

His eyes were always sullen underneath his wild dark hair and in a way, he reminded her a little of Cassian. Stubborn, and unwilling to let on how much he was actually hurting. Jyn had been silently observing the 12 – hell, maybe 13-year-old by this point, she’d never exactly managed to get much else out of him – ever since she had taken over this class, and only recently had she finally thought that she might know enough to actually help him.

“Hello, Talek,” she said quietly.

She sat down next to him, their backs to the wall. The helping poster was currently in the process of being newly added to the walls, Jessa yelling at Arlo and some of the other little ones for almost ripping it. So far, Jyn had always left Talek alone, in fear of forcing the boy to talk when he didn’t want to, but the tactic was clearly not working. She still didn’t understand him, didn’t know how his mind worked, but if she wanted to help … she needed to know.

“I have a friend,” she kept her voice low. Calm. She kept space between them and kept her eyes on the rest of the children. “You know him, Captain Andor. I think I might need some advice, Talek, because Captain Andor is very upset about something that happened on his latest mission and I don’t know what to do.”

From the corner of her eye, Jyn noticed Talek glance at her a little. It was the most acknowledgement she would usually ever get from the boy. “Captain Andor isn’t very good at talking about what’s bothering him,” she simply carried on. “I’m not either, really. It’s easy to keep things inside, but Captain Andor isn’t getting better. Do you know what I should do to help him?”

No answer, but Jyn expected that. She used the silence as an opportunity to call out to Reno, warn him that his card would change colour unless he stopped pushing the younger children out of his way. Lyle dashed up to her at one point to excitedly ramble about the scribble writing he had added to the helping poster. Talek watched all the interactions with his usual blank face until quite suddenly, he spoke.

“Talk to him.”

It took all of Jyn’s self-control to not cry on the spot.

“Ok. I should … talk to Captain Andor,” she instead struggled to keep her voice calm (Talek is taking to me, Talek is talking to me, the Force must be with us).

“Yes.”

Talek didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. He might not interact with any of the other children, but Jyn knew that the boy was a hell of a listener. He would watch and take things in and she knew that he was still inside there somewhere. It was going to be a long process, but Jyn was certain that he would eventually make it through whatever it was that had happened to him.

That night, when Cassian crawled into bed, Jyn reached out.

She had been treating him like Talek. Aware that he was clearly dealing with something and not wanting to interrupt that internal process, only it wasn’t the kind of help he needed. She rolled over quietly, watching the back of his head next to her. She had attempted this several times only to have him flinch away from her, but she wouldn't let it get brushed aside anymore. Jyn curled her arm around him from behind and squeezed tight. She felt him jump, felt the muscles tense underneath the skin. Though while she half-expected him to yank himself out of bed just to get away from her, he instead stayed stock still.

“Cassian,” she whispered into his hair. “I’m here.”

He stayed frozen for so long that she almost fell asleep. Drifting almost into unconsciousness, she was brought back when suddenly, he rolled over to face her. His arms wrapped around her and Jyn barely held it together when he answered quietly,

“I know.”

“I’m glad we’re both here,” Jyn kept her voice even as they trudged through the snow. Nothing was perfect of course, because how could it possibly be expected that a year after Scarif everything was just magically better again?

The anniversary was today. A full standard year after the death and the trauma, and they were still bearing their own scars.

But Jyn had Cassian at her side, and that was what mattered most to her right that moment. She was coming to think of the youth class as her second bedroom – the kids were growing up, and a few new children had arrived within the last few weeks – but she did admittedly need space away from them every night to recuperate. She had tentatively asked Cassian to walk with her, and he had thankfully said yes.

They huffed up the small hill, not far from the north entrance to Echo One. The ice was softer up here thanks to recent snowfall, which made it nicer to sit down though it was bulky in their water-proof gear. It was that uncomfortable state of being hot from the climb, but freezing in her nose and toes. She watched as Cassian dropped next to her, their backs to the base and facing out into the endless tundra in front of them.

His beard may be unkempt and his hair unwashed, but he was still so beautiful her heart raced.

“Do you ever think about them?” he asked, quietly.

She didn’t have to ask who ‘them’ was. “I do,” she answered.

“How often?”

“It’s getting less and less,” Jyn admitted. “Though when I knew the anniversary was going to hit soon, I didn’t – I didn’t sleep so well – but you know that.”

“I do,” He knew all about how she had woken screaming or sobbing every night the last entire week. None of this had been easy. “I think about … I don’t know. A lot of things.”

“Cassian,” she hesitantly leaned in, pressing her side up against his a little. “What … what happened on that mission?”

He sighed. Scarif was plaguing both their minds, but it was the mission that was still hanging over them both, and Jyn still didn’t understand entirely what had gone wrong. He had finally admitted that he wasn't ok and she had deduced somewhere between the lines that someone had died, but every team member had come back to base, so she was somewhere at a loss. She had just spent the last couple weeks employing the tactic she was using with Talek: stay by their side, let them know she was listening until they were ready to speak.

Apparently, Cassian was ready.

“You … you know that we’d technically already completed the main mission,” he began, bending his knees and resting his arms on them. “But the Head Director at the Imperial warehouse we were watching announced unexpectedly that he was leaving the base to attend an event across town. We were kept on to take advantage of it. There was coding Intel that the Alliance wanted. They’d apparently been about to forget about it because of the logistics of getting at it, but with the director gone, a huge obstacle was out of the way. It was the opportunity we needed.”

Jyn held her breath, waiting for the punchline. Cassian spoke to the snow. “I was on the perimeter. We had timed it all, but half the team were still inside when suddenly, the director came back out of nowhere. It was complete chaos, Jyn. Alarms went off, Imperial workers started pouring out of the building … our instructions, should we fail to get the intel, was to take out the director and his direct subordinates, but that’s when I got hit in the head. I was dizzy, there were hundreds of people running and screaming and … I shot a civilian.”

Jyn let out a breath, leaning so far into him now that her head rested on his shoulder. She gripped his arm tightly. “It was an accident.”

“You don’t understand, I shot him,” Cassian’s voice was shaking. She had never heard him sound quite like it before. “It was a risk already and had the plan gone like it should have, I never would’ve attempted the shot.  There’s no way I would have risked someone’s safety like that, but I did and I missed and I murdered him, Jyn – I had to go after the target – I had to leave him in the street – I don’t even know who he was–”

“It was an accident,” Jyn suddenly cut in. She turned her face into his shoulder, suddenly wishing that they were inside, that there weren’t several bulky jacket layers between them so that he could feel her there with him. “Cassian, you are not a murderer.”

He scoffed, bitterly. “You don’t know how many people I’ve killed for this war–”

“Fine, yes, this is different,” Jyn cut back in. “Yes, you should feel remorse. Yes, you’re allowed to grieve for him, and should carry on fighting for him, but Cassian, you can’t let him consume you. You hold onto guilt too well.”

He pressed his spare hand to his face a moment, roughly swiping at it. “You don’t–”

“Understand? The first time I killed someone, I was twelve,” Jyn retorted. “It was self-defence, I’d gotten into a little more than I could handle and had to fight for my life, but I still blasted his brains out. He would have killed me, but I still cried for weeks after.”

He seemed to sober a little at the sudden delve into Jyn’s past. She hadn’t thought of the memory in a long time, but it was one she still remembered with vivid clarity. Twelve was still so impressionably young, she couldn’t ever imagine Talek or any one of the other kids having to go through such a thing at their age. The fact that she was still here today was incredible.

“That wasn’t the last time, either,” Jyn added. “I’ve killed for a lot of reasons. Mostly to protect myself or others, but I stabbed someone once just because they were an Empire-sympathising bigot and they had annoyed me. Cassian … you aren’t alone.”

She hoped more than anything that he believed that. He would never be alone. He turned his head and suddenly, they were eye-to-eye. She needed to get through to the man, and she told him the same words that he had once told her long ago: 

“Cassian, you are worth something.”

He leaned down and his lips collided with hers.

She was startled by the movement. His hands were on her, his kiss suddenly doing things that she had only let herself imagine until now. He pressed hard, fast, but before she could even wrap her head around it, he was even more abruptly pulling away. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. “I’m so sorry, Jyn – that was – I shouldn’t have–”

“It’s ok,” she said.

But really, it was. 

Every birthday in the youth class was something different. With so many cultures, Jyn had found herself baking cakes, looking up the lyrics to a variety of birthday songs, learning birthday dances and chants and even had to try and figure out how to create a birthday braid once.

“Jyn, I am certain my hair’s not long enough for this–” Cassian had complained as she consulted the datapad.

“Shut up, this is how they do it in Azha’s culture, now let me practice!” She had yanked on his hair once more.

Malia’s 18th birthday was thankfully just a cake with 18 candles, but this was a special birthday. That night, she was officially enlisting in the Rebel Alliance, and though the cake probably had something to do with it, the children were screaming and bouncing off the walls with excitement.

“Malia’s gonna kill Imperials!” Reno cried.

“KILL IMPERIALS!” Caylen shrieked.

Jyn would have tried to contain the chaos, but the kids rarely got this excited about anything. She had downloaded several playlists of whatever music was currently most popular on Coruscant, and it was currently blasting throughout the small classroom. The younger kids jumped up and down, holding hands and shrieking, while the slightly older ones giggled and hung around the edges of the room. Jyn noticed Rivi trying not to look at Vance and Vance similarly pretending that he wasn’t currently edging towards her. Even Talek said thank you quietly when she had handed him his slice of cake. 

Jyn watched Malia as she held now four-year-old Arlo in her arms, spinning him around delightfully to the music. She couldn’t have been prouder of the young woman. Jyn knew that Malia wanted to fight more than anything and that she had taught her well. Malia was more than capable, she was kind yet deadly, and she would make a fine soldier with the rebellion …

But with pride also came a fierce need to protect.

“She’ll be ok.”

Jyn turned and noticed Aden, who was munching on cake next to her. At 17, he and Tavisha were now the eldest of the youth class and Jyn knew he was good friends with Malia. “Girl is wicked!” Aden added, since Jyn was giving him the ‘keep talking’ look (only one of many looks Jyn had perfected over the last year or so). “Honestly, don’t worry, Jyn.”

“I’m not worried,” she said at once.

“Mmmkay. Sure,” Aden grinned. “Oh hey, how’s the Cap’n doin’?”

She narrowed her eyes at the boy. Aden she could count on to be charming and funny, but never stupid. He could lift an entire mood with one well-timed joke, but he was a lot smarter than he came off as. He always knew what was up. The wider he grinned, the more her suspicions suddenly racked up.

“… what do you know?”

“You wound me! I know nothing.”

“You little – I’ll change your card colour!”

“Over nothing?” Aden smirked. “Seems over the top, even for you.”

She could strangle him. “Your red card is no blaster training for a week.”

His smirk dropped a little. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me. You’re on yellow.”

“FINE,” he shoved the last of the cake in his mouth. “I saw you sucking face with him out in the snow the other day.”

She felt her stomach drop out. Oh, that. Just the kiss that they had swept aside, that they didn’t really talk about? The kiss that Jyn knew had just been a result of his screaming head and tumultuous emotions, that kiss. 

“How … in the kriffing hell?” she said, blankly.

“WHOA, you’re not denying it!” Aden seemed amazed, almost choking on his frosting. “Tavisha totally owes me!”

“I repeat how in the kriffing hell?” 

Clearly, the teenager knew her better than she’d thought. He caught the you're dead if you don't explain yourself right now look and he started talking immediately. “We saw you guys heading out somewhere, I swear it was Tavi’s idea to follow ya!” Aden swore on his heart. “You were a bit too far away for us to really tell, and the marshals at the hangar entrance wouldn’t let us go out without supervision, BUUUT I could’ve sworn I saw him kiss you at one point and I was right! GO ME!”

She was quite literally rendered speechless.

Jyn loved these kids. She did, she really did, but her face was burning and she had always been so determined to retain a poised and professional image around them. They needed to see her as a leader. Someone they could talk to, someone they could love, someone they could look up to and aspire to be. It was a hell of a mammoth task and most days, Jyn was certain Mothma had absolutely no idea how difficult this assignment actually was. After everything she'd had to deal with – being teased, being scratched and bitten, being vomited and shat on – she’d honestly thought that she was beyond embarrassment, but apparently not. She opened her mouth to take it all back at once, deny everything, except …

She glanced at Talek across the room. Since he didn’t talk or voluntarily interact with anyone, she often worried that the other children would exclude him. However, she watched as several of the young teenagers called out to him, asking him if he wanted to join. Slowly, he crossed the room. He silently stood amongst the group, not smiling, but surely listening intently. Jyn could only hope that she’d had some influence in teaching that kind of acceptance to these kids. They deserved to have a role model who wasn’t just calm in the face of disaster, but someone who showed them that it was ok to feel, and it was ok to express it.

Damn it, these kids would be soldiers someday, and to be a soldier meant clear-cut ethics, to be able to put aside feelings and emotions. It meant being forced to look at a Stormtrooper and think ‘it’s not a human being, it’s just another target’. It meant having to leave comrades behind, staying silent under torture, and being able to put aside trauma to just carry on. She refused to let these kids grow up into her and Cassian, certifiably fucked up almost beyond repair, because of the things they’d seen and done.

These kids needed to know how to care. They needed to know that emotions were ok and that having them made you human. That even though this war would try and drive it out of them, under no circumstances were they allowed to forget that they could cry if they needed to.

Sometimes, she really hated being a role model.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I neither confirm nor deny what may or may not have happened out in the snow, but … I like Captain Andor a lot. That’s not a secret.”

“Yeah, but how muuuuch?” Aden warbled.

“Everything you’re imagining and more,” she rolled her eyes. “Now stop harassing me and get back to eating cake with your insane friends, ok?” 

Aden just laughed and hugged her. 

Cassian healed slowly, over time.

Used to him regularly being on and off-base and lately, avoiding her completely, she was slightly thrown at him suddenly always being around. He always tried to make himself look busy, but she knew that he hadn’t taken another mission at all since the last time. Quite honestly, he seemed a little lost. It was almost like he was floundering when all he wanted was just something to hold onto. So when a mission landed with eight more new children – apparently survivors of a school being bombed and having nowhere else to go – Jyn immediately asked Cassian to help her.

“You want me to … help teach your class?”

“I’m getting more kids faster than the older ones are growing out of it,” Jyn nodded. “There’s over thirty of them now, I could use the help.”

So he came. The kids always screamed and cheered whenever he walked in, especially if he let the younger ones hold his blaster, so she knew they’d be receptive to him being there more regularly. Honestly, it was perfect for everyone involved.

However, even though she had suggested it, she would admit that she still felt a little irrationally possessive of the class. They were her kids. She understood them, she knew what they needed, and a part of her wanted to hold onto them and not let in anyone else. But she was being run haggard and she knew it. The young ones needed a lot of attention, and she was constantly worried that the elder would be neglected because of it. With Cassian, the work could be divided, actually be manageable.

And he soon proved himself to be quite remarkable.

One afternoon, after bringing back the older teens from their physical training, it was to find Cassian sat on the floor, surrounded by tiny children. Arlo was no longer the youngest now, a small two-year-old having been brought to them a couple of weeks ago, and she was currently curled up in Cassian’s lap, eyes drooping. Cassian was apparently attempting to read a story to the children, but he kept getting distracted by a few of them rolling around on the floor, or Lyle hanging over his back and talking loudly in Festian. Jyn almost laughed.

“How’s it going?” she called over.

She was imagining a look of blind panic, but to her utter surprise, Cassian seemed content as he glanced up. “It’s good,” he said. “I think Bree is going to need naps, though, she hasn’t been able to keep her eyes open since lunch.”

Her heart lurched a little. 

Jyn didn’t bother coercing Mothma this time. She and Cassian just went ahead and knocked down a part of the classroom wall. The room next to theirs was apparently nothing but storage and was barely being used anyway, so they turned it into more space for the youth class. Jyn watched over the next couple of weeks as Cassian slowly took to the younger children. They all helped re-model the new classroom next door, throwing out broken furniture and playing with the gear that was being stored there, dressing up in the jackets and helmets and running around, pretending to shoot each other. Cassian would catch her look every time.

(“Half of them probably won’t even survive past 18.”

“It’s ok.”

“It’s not, it’s not–”)

With two groups, their day was suddenly much more manageable. Jyn stayed in the original classroom with the older children, while Cassian took the younger next door. At age 12 they decided it would be appropriate to transition them from one room to another. Jyn was able to concentrate on the teens who needed her support and dedication, able to watch them and interact with them more closely and teach them the physical skills that they would need to join the war.

“Because this IS a war,” she said as they all sat in a circle. “I know everything can be nice and safe in here, but out there it’s a battle zone, and I need you to all understand how this is going to play out someday.”

She led daily conversations with the teens and this was the one she usually came back to, but never had she explicitly talked about her own experiences in a battle zone before. Scarif had been so long ago now and she still remembered every detail, but she hadn’t wanted to put the image in their heads. She was unprepared when Lahrin, a fifteen-year-old with a tendency to steal things, asked her snidely,

“Yeah, but like you can talk. Have you ever even fought before?”

Her heart slammed as she looked around the circle of impressionable faces. She couldn’t lie, not today. She turned directly to Lahrin and said,

“Have you heard of Scarif?”

She seemed a little thrown and shook her head. A couple of the kids who’d been with her since the start – Jessa, Dan, Aden – immediately started explaining excitedly over the enthusiasm from the others. She heard phrases like ‘Death Star’ and ‘plans’ and ‘exploded!’ until eventually she cut in.

“Hey! Listening, thank you,” They settled quickly. Jyn was struggling to remain calm, but she carried on, “For those who don’t know, Scarif was a planet in Imperial territory up until about 1 and a bit years ago now. The Death Star was a battle station that the Empire was building. It had the ability to destroy worlds and it was naturally a major threat to the rebellion. The Rebel Alliance learned there were schematic plans of the Death Star that revealed a way to destroy it in the archives on Scarif. They organised a mission to steal the plans.”

It was a simple way of putting it and it painted the rebellion in a nice light (they organised it her ass) but this wasn’t the time and place for that story. This was about her. This was her story.

“Captain Andor and I were the ones who led that mission.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Vance was wide-eyed. “I didn’t know that!”

Lahrin seemed a little chagrined from her earlier comments. She was looking at Jyn in awe. “So you fought to get the plans?”

“Yes,” Jyn had to lock her fingers together, they were shaking so bad. “I need you all to understand … I haven’t spoken about this out loud to anyone other than Captain Andor since it happened. I’m going to tell you what played out with as little censoring as possible, but I need you to understand that if I stop talking at any point, or simply can’t keep doing it, I’m sorry.”

They listened in sobered silence. Jyn told them everything. She explained how she, Cassian and K-2SO had infiltrated the tower to find the plans. She spoke of Bodhi, their pilot who had remained resilient and brave every step of the way, even though she was sure he must have been terrified. She spoke of the annoying, sarcastic droid, who gave its life to buy them more time. She told them of Baze and Chirrut, the guardians who had followed her into battle despite everything. She told them of the hundreds of soldiers who had died that day, about the explosions she had run through, the men she had faced down, the injuries she’d gotten and her fear when she’d thought Cassian was dead as well.

It had to be the first time she had honestly ever let herself think of them. The first anniversary of the battle had come and gone, and Jyn had solely focused on Cassian the entire time. She’d been doing so well as she focused on teaching the youth class that she'd just ignored the sleep troubles, but the truth was that there was always going to be a point where she needed to just get it all out. She had started crying somewhere around explaining how Bodhi had died and the tears remained until she was finally finished. It was only then when she glanced down and realised that the two teens who were the closest to her – Rivi on one side, and a newcomer, Geron, on the other – had apparently taken her hands at some point.

She didn’t say anything else. There was nothing more to be said. 

General Draven didn’t exactly take to the idea of Cassian assigning himself to the youth class.

“You weren’t given permission to discharge yourself, Captain Andor!” he said, hotly.

“What, exactly, have I discharged from?” Cassian argued back. “Have I defected? Have I betrayed the rebellion, do I no longer work for the Rebel Alliance? No. I won’t do field work anymore, and Jyn needs the help, so–”

“You don’t get to decide!”

“The hell I don’t,” Cassian said, furiously. “I’ve given enough of my life to this rebellion, I can do whatever I damn well please, otherwise I may just defect after all.”

“I don’t think Draven liked the threat very much …” Jyn pointed out as she ran after him storming away from Intelligence HQ.

Cassian muttered something in Festian which Jyn was certain wasn’t very positive towards General Draven. She almost laughed, running to catch up.

“You seriously don’t mind permanently taking over the little kids?”

“They need me,” Cassian told her. “Jyn, I was serious when I said nothing more in the field. I can’t … I wouldn’t be able to take much more. I’ve done my part, now it’s time to step back, let others take over.”

The kids would be thrilled. A lot of them she supposed would have already assumed that Cassian was there to stay, and this announcement would be exciting to many. They coordinated together a lot, but Jyn also had plenty of opportunities to just watch Cassian from the adjoining door as he taught the younger kids. It wasn’t easy; like every person in the galaxy, they had baggage. Six-year-old Haley struggled with concentration, four-year-old Charlee kept pushing people see what kind of reaction she’d get, and tiny Bree suffered from the worst separation anxiety she’d ever seen (dropping the kids back off in their shared barracks at the end of every afternoon was a nightmare). But Cassian understood a lot of where these children came from, more than she had realised. He listened when he needed to. He could handle Ava when she was being clingy and wanted hugs every five seconds. He was firm whenever Trina screamed, and he would always dutifully play dress up or draw with anyone who asked.  

He was a natural with them.

“I think …” Jyn shook her head a little, trying to clear the fog that he had caused there. Don’t kiss him, don’t you dare kiss him, you aren’t doing that here in a crowded corridor. “I think we need to run emergency drills again, we’ve had so many new children recently.”

Cassian took her topic change without question. There were a number of drills to practice – fire, earthquake, Imperial attack, base-wide power outage, emergency evacuation, etc. – that in those moments Jyn sometimes forgot that it was children she was trying to teach. She needed them to understand that the drills weren’t a game, that they were serious and could happen any time, so she often got cranky whenever they didn’t go so well (like Arlo crying hysterically the entire fire drill that one time). Maybe Cassian would help remind her that these were children.

They caught everyone unaware with their Imperial attack drill.

“BAM!” Jyn suddenly screamed, cutting herself off in the middle of a group discussion. “I just got the message that the Empire has breached atmo! Siren hasn’t gone off yet, WHAT DO YOU DO?!”

On her side of the classroom at least, her teens leapt into chaotic action. Aden and Tavisha immediately sprinted for the blaster racks along the side of the room, keying in the code (a code because Reno had once stolen one back when she’d been teaching this class all but a week). They started tossing the weapons to the others. Thirteen-year-old Neera was running around like a headless tauntaun, but Vance was yelling at everyone to get in formation. Jyn called to Aden, who immediately threw her a blaster. She ran to the front of the 12 now heavily-armed teens, taking her place as point. She aimed at the main door. If anything came through it, she would shoot in a heartbeat.

“AAAND … TIME!” Tavisha yelled, skidding into place just behind her.

Jyn hit the commlink. “At ease,” she called, turning to face the assembled teenagers. “Well done losers, that was almost two minutes! Empire’s already killed us all, great job.”

“Aw, Jynnnn …” Lahrin complained as the others all laughed.

Jyn just shoved the kid on the shoulder. “Get these back on the racks. You guys did good. We can do better, but … good.”

As the teens worked about resetting the classroom, Jyn went and slammed on the joining door to Cassian’s room. “I’M THE BIG BAD EMPIRE!” she roared through the barricade that the younger kids would have set up. “I shall blast your puny brains to smithereens!”

“Screw you, Vader!” a small tinny voice echoed through the barricade. Jyn grinned at the image of 11-year-old Reno crouched there on the other side, armed with a blaster and ready to kick ass. Now there was her little, slightly psychotic, delinquent.

“Captain Andor!” she called. “How’re you doing?”

“We are all safely hiding under tables!” Cassian yelled back. “Myself and the older kids are ready to fight if need be, but we will hide until the attack is over or an evacuation is called!”

“At ease!” Jyn called back, and she could hear the sudden excited chatter of the kids as they clambered out from under the tables and got to dismantling the barricades.

“It’s weird …” Jyn mentioned quietly, later that night. After the chaos of running emergency drills, the quiet of their room was staggering. She had already climbed into bed while Cassian was in the shower, and she spoke as he dried off and dressed. She let her voice carry through to the partially open door of the refresher and tried not to imagine him in there. “Today … you know, when we were running the Imperial attack drill … I realised I’d die for these kids.”

Cassian apparently thought for a moment.

“I mean, they’re a bunch of feral lunatics, but they’re my feral lunatics.”

He still didn’t say anything. Jyn wondered whether maybe she had scared him a little. She was certainly scaring herself. She hadn’t intended on caring so much about these kids, but it was kind of impossible not to. She knew their strengths and weaknesses, she knew their horror stories and nightmares, she knew their personalities and the things that made them them.

And they were amazing.

Eventually, he stuck his head out the refresher door. His expression was a little shaken, but he smiled at her.

“I’d die for them, too.”

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY An alien serial killer is sent to Earth to live among humans as a punishment for his crimes, and his body is genetically transformed to look like a human. Nevertheless, the transformation is incomplete and every few hours the alien’s body begins to revert to its original form, causing his head to explode. The situation prompts the alien to “borrow” heads from anyone who happens to be nearby. He gets it by squeezing the head off with a crab-like claw and skewering it onto his own neck. At the same time, Detectives Pierce (Chong) and Krieger (Gordon) try to figure out who is causing the killing spree, with only one clue: all the heads of the victims have been removed and are lost. The team slowly comes to the conclusion that they are facing a rather unearthly killer.

DEVELOPMENT The film was originally financed through the Kushner-Locke Company. They hadn’t had much experience in features, but it had inked a deal with Atlantic to make 10 movies with Kushner-Locke retaining ownership. The original script, by Sam Egan, proved to be too ambitious for a small company, McNaughton said. Numerous fight scenes and exploding buildings had to be scaled down to fit a $2 million budget, but Egan was willing to make the necessary changes. “The original script was monstrous in terms of effects,” McNaughton shakes his head. “The Borrower was always blasting things with this laser gun. There would have been hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of opticals. He was blowing up buildings, things were on fire, twice as many people were decapitated, and there was a huge radio telescope facility at the end which would have cost a fortune to build and blow up.  McNaughton convinced the studio to hire fellow Chicagoan Richard Fire. Seven drafts were required; the film was originally going to be produced in Chicago with the same people used in Henry, but that was only one of numerous changes made.

Fire, who spent little time on the Borrower set takes a philosophical view of the whole matter. “The movie business is an interesting sport, and recognizing that is one way not to have a bad time,” he counsels. “If you have unreasonable expectations, you’re far more likely to be frustrated and disappointed. When I was in college. I thought that you wrote whatever you wrote a movie. A poem, a novel, a play-in a burst of romantic inspiration. You wrote feverishly and all the time for a weekend or maybe two, and then you produced the work and all the writing was done.

“Now, I’m not saying that it isn’t possible to have it happen that way. But my life experience is that it doesn’t. You have to keep going back to the drawing board and reconfronting the beast…refining the work. It’s more like sculpture than anything else, where you keep having to take additional whacks at it to get it just right.”

Fire does, however, lay to rest rumors that there was extensive rewriting done while The Borrower was being shot. That’s completely false. The script was not drastically rewritten during production. There were two extra lines put into the first scene that was the extent of the rewrite. As John said to me the first time we saw the movie on cassette. “This was the movie we set out to make it’s up there. The problems on this film were purely business. Period.”

Fire wasn’t the only Henry alumnus to work on The Borrower: Jones was on board again as producer, Elena Maganini came back as editor, and the music is credited to Jones. Robert McNaughton and Ken Hale. all of whom contributed to Henry’s haunting score. Organic Theater members/Henry co-stars Tom Towles and Tracy Arnold are also back. Arnold. who played Henry’s would-be love interest Becky. is seen briefly as a nurse. Towles. Henry’s skin-crawlingly degenerate buddy Otis. plays Bob Laney. the alien’s first and most loathsome victim. “Otis was a big stretch for Tom,” claims Fire. “He’s been one of my best friends for 20 years. and he’s one of the nicest guys you could ever imagine. It sounds like a cliché. but it’s true. Tony Amendola has a small role as a doctor and Mädchen Amick briefly appears as a rock groupie. Pamela Norris cameos as a hooker.

An early effects test shot-of Tom Towles decapitated by the alien’s handcuffs, used as a garrote-proved disastrous when a makeup man had to be found in three days to replace a departing Kevin Yagher. “The test was a disaster!” McNaughton howls. “It was scheduled to be shot in 11 hours. We shot for 23 hours straight, and even that wasn’t enough time. I thought it was horrible, but Atlantic was still interested in the project.”  “The footage was awful and I was ashamed to have been a part of it,” said McNaughton. “Kushner-Locke stopped paying me because they thought Atlantic wouldn’t pick up the film based on the effects footage. Kushner-Locke took the film to Atlantic last December and they didn’t invite me, so they could say, ‘This is McNaughton’s fault!’ But Atlantic kind of thought it was okay, which it wasn’t.”

After not being paid by Kushner-Locke for five weeks, McNaughton thought the whole deal was off. He returned to Chicago, he was shocked when he got the news that Atlantic was still interested in completing THE BORROWER.

“Somehow, Atlantic got the picture away from Kushner-Locke,” McNaughton said. “We had to rewrite it and cut back on the effects. I asked Richard Fire, the man who co-wrote HENRY, to help me. But the attitude was, ‘Who the hell is Fire? We’ve got our own guy.’ It was the same old Hollywood thing. We worked on the new script for a month. Tennant hated it. He said, ‘You win, you can use your writer.’ Back in Chicago, Richard and I started working together. We made the film more character-centered. We pushed the cops chasing the alien into the background. The interesting thing is the monster taking over people. By the time we were done, we had completed seven drafts. The seventh was the one that got approved.”

From day one, McNaughton wanted to make THE BORROWER on his home turf in Chicago where he had enjoyed great success with HENRY. But even after scouting Chicago-area locations and assembling his people from HENRY, McNaughton realized the production was destined to be shot in Los Angeles because Atlantic viewed Chicago talent as inferior and less experienced than West Coast talent. They were also frightened by the infamous Chicago unions.

Tennant hired Elliott Rosenblatt as line producer. Rosenblatt poo-poohed Chicago and its locations and eventually got the production shifted back to Los Angeles, McNaughton said. From that point, Rosenblatt took an aggressive role on the set, eventually forcing the replacement of 12 key personnel, including the camera and sound crews.

“It was a disaster for me,” McNaughton said. “Rosenblatt sandbagged my DP and got somebody loyal to him. A guy named Bob New. I had seen his resume reel and originally chose not to hire him. We called the guy ‘Bob No-Can-Do,’because his pet comment was ‘we couldn’t do that. ‘He was into the fast, easy way to do things, not necessarily the right way.”

Then the big ship sank. Atlantic suddenly went belly-up. Tennant disappeared. Rosenblatt reportedly became at odds with the film’s owners. As McNaughton put it, “There were a lot of bad feelings.” Those feelings were so bad that when THE BORROWER was scheduled for postproduction work at Zenith Labs in Chicago, Rosenblatt tried to seize the work print at Atlantic and take it with him, McNaughton said. “One of the guys working with the company, R.P. Sekon, grabbed the film before he (Rosenblatt) could get it,” McNaughton said. “Otherwise, who knows what would have happened to it.”

McNaughton is still waiting to see what happens to THE BORROWER. It’s a project he decided to direct after he had rejected offers to helm New World’s WARLOCK (before that studio went under as well) and TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 3. “I turned that down because I knew that if I made too many more blood pictures, that’s it. That will be my life,”

PRODUCTION McNaughton explains. “Originally, part of the joke was that he’s from a higher civilization, transported to Earth for his heinous crimes. It’s like, ‘If you want to act like a monkey, we’re going to put you in a zoo.’ Here, they said, ‘You want to act like a human being? Fine. We’re going to turn you into one, and drop you in Chicago.’ It’s the ultimate punishment.

“When he comes to Earth, his transformation fails,” the director continues. “His craft comes down in a forest preserve, where some dirt bag and his kid are poaching deer. They see this thing land, and when the transformation fails, he reverts to his alien form, but his head can’t. His head explodes, so he starts grabbing the heads of various human beings. He also gets chased by a couple of cops, who think they’re after a human murderer.”

One of the most appealing things about The Borrower, says McNaughton, is that all of the FX are derived from the story. “I’ve read a lot of scripts where they find some half-assed story and fill it up with gratuitous effects that aren’t organic to the narrative in any way,” he frowns. “They have what is basically a crappy story, and every so often they dump a bunch of gimmicks in there that don’t belong. They just sew them on. In The Borrower, the effects stem from the concept. Here comes this alien creature, his head goes away, and now he’s lost on Earth. He’s like a lion: He’s not really a bad guy, he’s just hungry.”

There are rather grim yet funny moments in the film. “I always go into those meetings where someone’s trying to sell the concept down the line,” he grimaces. “I hear things like, ‘It’s a cross between Terminator and Gone With the Wind!’ We tried to put humor in the script, but we weren’t really concentrating on it. It just happened that the players we got, like Tommy Towles and Antonio Vargas, were always thinking of ways to make it better. There was humor in the situations, and we were just fortunate enough to have players that hooked on to it, which brought us more than we expected.

“I hate gag humor,” the director goes on. “The humor in this story comes from the situations. It’s very humorous, very dark, and it moves very well. All of the gore comes from the fact that this creature has got to have new heads. It’s part of the story. It’s not gratuitous. There’s a metaphor to the script: He’s assuming these other people’s lives and personalities, almost like an actor.”

The story follows the title character’s attempts to fit into modern American life, assisted by such helpers and reluctant head donors as Antonio Vargas and Tom Towles. In addition to the various human victims, the Borrower even attempts (albeit unsuccessfully) an animal’s head. Along with the alien’s story, another plot involves a psychotic killer (Neil Giuntoli) who, at the film’s beginning, is captured by a detective (Rae Dawn Chong).

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“Scully the psycho then escapes and stalks Rae Dawn,” McNaughton details. “Eventually, he breaks into her apartment late at night, where she shoots and kills him. His body is taken to the morgue at the same time they bring in the dog-headed man. The dog-headed man then grabs the female coroner’s head, but the authorities shoot the hell out of him. They figure it’s all over, but the monster now takes Scully’s head! There’s a massive shoot-out, and a big boffo finish.”

Rae Dawn Chong was not used to working on projects like The Borrower, which led to a few uncomfortable moments. “Rae Dawn and I had a few run-ins,” the director reveals. “It was her first starring role, and I believe she was nervous and tense. Also, I don’t think she’s used to working on projects whose budgets are quite so low, where the amenities are quite so thin. She worked big blocks at the beginning and end of the picture, but during the middle three weeks she didn’t work at all. We had a scrape or two during the first three weeks, but I got along with her much better the last weeks, and it all went pretty smoothly.”

SPECIAL EFFECTS Although Kevin Yagher was in charge of the makeup FX, he farmed some of the work out to Robert Kurtzman, Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger of KNB EFX Group. “The work was pretty straightforward: Kevin had the real juicy stuff, and we got the stuff that he didn’t really want to deal with,” laughs Kurtzman, relaxing in the KNB lab. “He mainly told us what he saw, and we just did it here. He didn’t come in and beat into our brains how he wanted it. He basically just said, ‘This is what I’m looking for.’ We did most of the neck appliances, based on some of Kevin’s designs for the necks, and we also did several bladder makeups. Kevin took over the rest of the stuff, a couple of dummies that had their heads severed. There are a lot of dummy head gags, with severed heads. This is a very bloody film. I can’t even guess how they’re going to rate it.”

The filmmakers say that the majority of the FX work involves prosthetic makeup, along with a great deal of squibbing. The spaceship and outer space will be done optically, while armatures will be used for some of the head-splitting. At the beginning of the film, one of the aliens is seen in its natural insectoid form, as it leaves the Borrower on Earth. “The insect head involves mechanics,” McNaughton explains. “We had radio-controlled mandibles. We used fiberglass and foam rubber to build the alien’s body.”

RELEASE/DISTRIBUTION THE BORROWER had been produced with Atlantic Pictures set as the distributor. “Then Atlantic was sold during the production,” McNaughton said. “The boss went away in the middle of the night. New people came in, but they couldn’t get the company into shape. So, everything collapsed. The completion bond people took over the film. It was a fiasco.”

  Atlantic Releasing was in a motel that used to be on Sunset. They had a pretty good-sized parking lot and about 25 or 30 employees. One day towards the end of production I had to go over there to talk about how we were going to shoot nights. I pulled into the parking lot, and it was empty. The building’s doors were swinging on their hinges. I walked in, and there was literally no one there! The computers were all packed up. They literally disappeared in the middle of the night, and took the few hundred thousand dollars that was left in our budget with them. So it was an insane experience making THE BORROWER.  – John McNaughton (Director)

  Rae Dawn Chong, appeared on THE PAT SAJAK SHOW a few months ago where she badmouthed THE BORROWER for having “the worst script” she’d ever performed. It was just an insult added to the stock piling injuries already suffered by McNaughton.

“It was a nightmare working with her,” McNaughton said. “She didn’t belong in a little $2 million movie. I mean, she wants to be Sigourney Weaver. She’s worked in big budget films before, so why did she do this picture? They asked her why she did the movie and she said because she needed the money. Why be so stupid as to go on TV and tell everyone you’re a whore?”

The Borrower (1989) Music Tracks

CAST/CREW Directed by John McNaughton Writing Credits (WGA) Mason Nage … (story)

Mason Nage … (screenplay) and Richard Fire … (screenplay)

Rae Dawn Chong – Diana Pierce Don Gordon – Charles Krieger Tom Towles – Bob Laney Antonio Fargas – Julius Neil Giuntoli – Scully Larry Pennell – Captain Scarcelli Tracy Arnold – Nurse

Makeup Department Everett Burrell … special makeup effects artist Bernd Rantscheff … makeup artist Heidi Williams … assistant makeup artist Chris Yagher … special make-up effects Kevin Yagher … special makeup effects Evan Brainard … mechanical department: Kevin Yagher Productions, Inc. Steve Galich … special effects John Lundberg … mechanical department: Kevin Yagher Productions, Inc. Tony Rupprecht … mechanical department: Kevin Yagher Productions, Inc.

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY Fangoria#84 Fangoria#109 Cinefantastique v20n04

The Borrower (1991) Retrospective SUMMARY An alien serial killer is sent to Earth to live among humans as a punishment for his crimes, and his body is genetically transformed to look like a human.