#this movie is so good at hiding in plain sight by making plain sight bigger and weirder and more overwhelming

[creature-once-removed]

.

[eggedbellies]

imagine theres a slime monster living in your walls, you only noticed it bcuz sometimes it stays in one spot too long and you need to repaint ceiling due to water damage. you dont really mind, it doesnt leave the wall wet so there's no mold, and you dont have ppl come over often, the ones that do dont question why you have new stains on the ceiling every month.

obviously it likes warm places so its easy to placate during the winter you moved in since you're also cold, so turning the heat up keeps it happy and hiding.

but then the summer comes and it gets too cold from the ac, it finds the bathroom is much warmer when you're taking a shower. slowly with every shower you take it gets more comfortable being in plain sight, moving from in the wall, to the cabinet, to laying the floor, pressed against the outside of the tub. you never notice bcuz of your opaque shower curtain and it always hides when you get out, lingering nearby until the heat and steam finally fade. going back to the attic or the side of the house the sun hits thats only barely warm enough.

then one day you decide to have a self care day and take a bath, you have your laptop set up to watch movies and maybe a little wine to sip on. your slimey house mate coming to hang out but staying hidden since the curtain isn't pulled.

the lights are dim tho so it decides to test how close it can get to the tub without being seen. apparently pretty damn close bcuz you don't notice him until hes perched on the edge of the tub. you're shocked for a moment but don't really care, maybe he's dried out you do keep it kind of cold, you'll turn the ac down a bit when you get out and maybe leave him somewhere to stay warm.

after a couple more movies you decide to get out, not noticing that the slime moved hours ago, and start to drain the tub. you feel something frantically grip your thighs and try to get up but slip a little further in the tub causing it to press again your hole to start away from the drain.

you realize it's probably the slime afraid to go down the drain and reach forward to plug it back up, but having found an escape and being forced even closer it presses into you. you let out a startled moan and try to scramble out, but once you've got your legs out of the water and try to grab the slime, it slips thru your fingers.

and now its found a much warmer place to hide from the cold air, it slithers into you further, you collapse to your knees, and further, your sure itll never come out, and still goes further.

you finish out the summer with your housemate living in you, its normal to you now, it doesnt bother you at all just like living in the house it mostly keeps to itself. your tummy is a little bloated which is fine by you. you always enjoyed having a little fat on you so you arent going to complain about looking a little bigger.

winter comes and the heat is on and you're hiding under a heated blanket and a heating pad for good measure, your so damn cold blooded but all the ways to get comfy in the winter make it better. soft bkankets and warm fires. and one day you notice theres a bit of shifting in you. you dont pay attention to it until it starts moving downward and think about your housemate that moved into you all those months ago. it moves further down until its just barely sticking out of you and hangs out there.

outside you may be warmer now but its enjoying how wet the inside of your body is. but fuck you wish it would move. you feel so full with him just. casually hanging out in you.

i've been hoarding this post for so long and now everyone gets to see it

[hernando-valdez]

Don't Call My Name || A Chase & Nando Production

ft. @chasemmccoy

tldr: Alejandra ded trigger warnings: death, blood, depictions of violence including guns

Although Hernando and Chase had been planning this for months, Hernando still felt the weight of it all as they sat on the boat, zooming through open waters into Amsterdam canals. He was grateful that the boat was at least bigger than the plane they had been crammed into for hours. It wasn’t like they could exactly fly coach so their best option had been a sympathetic bombardeo who was willing to fly them for a price. If shit wasn’t about to get so serious he might have actually laughed about it. Like the two of them were in some buddy movie, encountering as many obstacles as possible along the way. That’s what the recent months had felt like. He had left town so quickly, there was a foolish part of his brain that thought he could solve this all quickly. But the reality was that he couldn’t get revenge in 24 hours. It just didn’t work that way. 

Especially when the person he was looking for was so damn good at not being found. She had made a true art of it and Hernando had spent countless days trying to figure it out. He and Chase had followed up on so many leads that at one point it just felt like they were moving in circles. At least Chase was still in town but Nando had been staying for so long at his safehouse, he was starting to believe that he’d never get home again. He still hadn’t fully figured out how the fuck he was going to casually blend back into Tonopah Valley society. It wasn’t like he could exactly just fix the shop up and keep on going. 

But all of these thoughts started to fall from his mind as he looked at his phone and saw they were getting closer to their destination. He took a deep breath and looked through his bag a few more times to make sure he had everything with him. “You know, if we do this shit, we might actually be able to get a drink in this fucking city before cutting out. I think Lyla would be pissed if I didn’t come back with a souvenir,” he said with a laugh but it felt like the truth. As the boat slowed to a stop, Hernando glanced at Chase. 

They were under a tunnel now, entering the building from underneath tunnels. Something that seemed almost too convenient but he was sure this was the same way Alejandra came through whenever she really didn’t want to be seen. Which was probably always. “You ready for this, hermano?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be considerin’ all the unknown variables.” Chase replied as he ensured he had all of his weapons strapped to his person. He finally met Hernando’s gaze, lips quirking into a smirk. “Been waitin’ for this a long time. Catch.”

He tossed a pair of tactical goggles over towards him before securing the balaclava around the bottom half of his face. One of the only advantages of his new work with The Enterprise was the access to more advanced tech, and he’d made sure to grab a few pieces before they’d left. The goggles could toggle between night vision and thermal, and assuming Alejandra did everything in her power to put as many obstacles between her and them, they could come in handy to minimize casualties.

Chase hadn’t been surprised when they realized she’d holed herself up on the top level of the night club. One of the best ways to hide was in plain sight, and how were these revelers to know that they were providing safe harbor to a heartless harpy?

“No shit, damn, Jack Reacher ain’t got shit on us,” Nando joked as he hung the goggles around his neck before getting out of the boat and sliding the driver their payment. He waited until the guy drove out before moving with Chase to the door. He looked around out of precaution, especially for cameras as he accessed the lock on the door. It had been a long time since Nando had done something so undercover and though there was a little rust, he was remembering just how much experience he had. And how prepared he was for this exact moment. 

“Bingo, bango, baby,” he muttered as the door beeped and opened. “No going back,” he said more to himself as they stepped inside of the ground floor, clearly a storage of all things forgotten. Hernando figured it was a way to make this place seem like there wasn’t much going on. He moved slowly, one of his guns already drawn as they moved along. Everything was still too quiet for his liking but as they ascended the stairs, the loud music from the club could be heard through the walls. Hernando was about to turn the corner up the next set of steps when he heard a voice and paused, motioning at Chase to stop. 

He glanced upwards and saw two of Alejandra’s men making their way down the stairs, both of them taking out a pack of cigarettes to smoke. “Terrible time for a smoke break,” he muttered before signaling to Chase that he would take the one on the right. As they stepped down, he stepped up, smiling behind his face covering. “You know, they say those things will kill you,” he told him, flicking the pack up into his guy’s face before burying the muzzle of his gun into the guy’s stomach and firing off four times before letting him fall down the stairs. He waited for Chase to take care of the second guy before they started up the next set of stairs and finally made it to the club level. It would be elevators from there on out and according to the floor plan, the only way up was through. 

“Let’s get this party started,” Hernando said before inching the door of the club open. “After you,” he told Chase and waited for him to lead them through. “Try not to get too distracted, I know how much you love to dance.”

“Wanna tie a rope to each other so we don’t get lost?” he joked back over the music, chuckling as he stepped out onto the floor. The heavy bass rattled the floor beneath their feet and he made sure to keep the safety on his gun as they maneuvered through the crowd. The last thing they needed was for someone to grind into one of them and be met with a bullet in the leg.

The place was packed and he half wondered if they’d manage to make it to the elevators undetected, but it didn’t take long before people took notice of their tactical gear, giving them a wide berth and drawing the attention of the security guards posted up around the perimeter.

“Got company. Your four and six,” Chase spoke into their comms, flicking the safety off his pistol. He aimed, pointing the end of the silencer in the direction of the guards approaching on the left and shot two rounds into each, one after the other. Out of the corner of his vision through the goggles he noticed the other guards go down as Nando’s shots hit true, and suddenly the sound of screams from those around the fallen bodies rose above the music.

Chaos erupted on the dance floor, club-goers shoving one another in an attempt to reach the exits first. More guards filtered out of the elevator coming from the upper levels, guns at the ready, and the pair switched into autodrive. Bodies littered the floor by the time they’d reached the waiting elevator. Alejandra was no doubt aware of their arrival by now.

The doors closed and the elevator rose up towards the top floor. Chase inspected the wound on his shoulder, a knife having found purchase before he’d had a chance to slit the ambushing guard’s throat. “This is it.” He looked over to Nando meaningfully. “Whatever happens, it’s been an honor kickin’ ass with you.”

There had been a version of this plan where they were going to go in quietly but they had collectively decided that wouldn’t last very long. Which was evident to how quickly all hell broke loose. But it was the exact reason why Chase was the only person Hernando would do this with. It was clear in the in sync way they moved, that even with the cuts and eventual bruises, they had one goal and that was to survive long enough to accomplish what they had come here for. 

“You know, these people should be grateful, that DJ was shit,” Hernando joked, catching his breath as he wiped some blood from his cheek. He reloaded his gun, glancing over at Chase with a grin. “That makes two of us, man. Let’s do what we came here to do.” He met his eyes for a moment longer and nodded. No matter what happened on the other side of the door, they weren’t going to go down without Alejandra going down with them. 

The floor numbers went up and up and Nando gripped his gun tightly, ignoring the bits of blood on him or the way his knee ached from someone trying to kick his knees out from under him. He definitely wasn’t some young kid anymore but he had enough. It had to be enough. 

The elevator doors opened and Nando was the first one out, shooting the first guy he saw in the head, another army of bodyguards charging towards them. Hernando opened fire without hesitation before ducking behind a pillar for cover. He told Chase to hold up and grabbed one of the smoke grenades from his belt, sliding his goggles back on before he threw it out in front of them. On his count, they both charged forward. Hernando tackled one guy before shooting him, fighting another in hand to hand combat before he won the battle. Not without a cut to his side but it didn’t stop him from moving forward. There was no stopping until he and Chase stood at the final door, dripping sweat and blood. 

And then, there she was. As they entered the last room and she sat calmly behind her desk, her hands already on her gun as she looked at both of them. It hit Hernando then, just how long it had been since he had seen her in person. How much time stretched between them now. He saw no semblance of the woman he had once loved deeply. Once believed in. Once had followed blindly. 

“Qué sorpresa. Te tomó bastante tiempo.” She spoke first and Hernando almost faltered as he held his gun up and started to inch forward. 

“Yo podría decir lo mismo.” He responded. He had been sure that she was going to find him first and take him out. It had felt so certain and yet he had come to realize that maybe she had underestimated him. Or maybe she thought she could still convince him to stay loyal. 

The rest of it happened so fast, Hernando wasn’t sure he could even parse out the details yet. She reached for her gun and shot at both of them, catching Chase in the shoulder and causing him to stumble backward. In the next moment, Hernando caught her right on her hand. Quite literally shooting the gun out of her hand as he descended on her.

“You okay?!” He called back to Chase as he put one hand around Alejandra’s neck and put the tip of his gun to her forehead.

“Fuck!” Chase cursed, hand shooting to his shoulder to staunch the flow of blood spilling down his arm. “Yeah, I’m good. Her aim’s as shitty as the people she sent to off me.” 

Hernando locked his gaze with Alejandra’s, grip tight on her throat. His adrenaline was rushing as he looked her in the eyes, he was actually surprised at how he felt nothing. At how her actions had broken him so deeply. 

She didn’t plead with him, only told him how much of a coward his father had been, how much of a coward he was. How all the men who had come before him were cowards. How without her things would crumble. Ho-

Hernando didn’t wait to hear much more before he pulled the trigger and put a bullet between her eyes. There was no time for delaying, not time for eulogies or apologies, especially as they heard the ding of the elevator and a whole new group of people spilled out in hopes of catching them.

Chase wished he’d had a little longer to revel in this moment, to relish in the knowledge that Alejandra Eguia would never again terrorize their lives. Unfortunately, the bullet zipping past his already injured shoulder and embedding in the wall behind him was a clear sign that wasn’t an option.

“Time to fly,” he called to Nando, shooting out the glass from the window before running and swan diving through it into the canal below. Chase heard the muffled sound of Nando splashing into the water beside him followed by shots shot from above. He slipped the mini tank of oxygen from his gear and slipped the breathing apparatus into his mouth, motioning for Nando to do the same. Though the tanks were small enough to be portable, they provided enough oxygen to keep them under for a few minutes until they reached their getaway.

The boat’s driver helped haul them both over the edge and Chase sprawled out on the floor as it took off and put as much distance between them and the club as possible, his chest rising and falling as he gulped down air. He looked to Nando, a smirk taking over his face. “Ding dong, the witch is dead.”

[brightonpages]

Ashes (Index) Chapter 2 Part 8

He started dating Grace.

For a couple of weeks after the tea and cookies, he managed to avoid being alone with her. He wasn't proud of it, especially since it meant he was spending nearly every moment of every day with the group. He would wake up early, find an abandoned place, and train on his own. He stretched breakfast until the last possible minute and then headed to class. Then he stayed with the group through every class, every meal and while studying. When they went back to the dorms, they went as a group. It was infuriating, never being alone, but he followed this pattern unless Grace had other plans. Then he would climb the book tower at the library until he found an empty floor, and stay there, buried in other people's words.

He knew she was gathering courage. She had made a decision on who would make the first move, since it clearly wasn't going to be Garrett. If they found themselves even just a couple of steps away from the core of the group, she would start to say something, but then turn it into smalltalk.

He made a mistake one night, when everyone else went back to the dorms, but he stayed behind, because he had an assignment left to finish. He counted on Grace to prioritize sleep, perhaps, while he pulled an all-nighter, but she didn't move from her seat.

They sat in silence, while she hesitated and he worked. She was afraid of rejection, or maybe she was afraid that he had already rejected her. When he left her room that day, it was because he was afraid he had said too much, but it might have looked like he was running away. He had only needed space to reset his persona, but had never meant to reset himself into a coward.

"You've been avoiding me."

Garrett looked up from his computer, and into her dark eyes.

"I haven't—"

"Hiding in plain sight is still hiding, Garrett."

"I—" he struggled to find words that would ring true, when the truth wasn't an option.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not sure what I did, but I never intended to push you away."

"You didn't. You haven't." She couldn't. Not when he still needed her. "I guess I wasn't ready for that much honesty."

"That's okay," she said. Then, "are we friends?"

That, at least, was an easy lie. "Yes."

"Good." She smiled, and reached for his arm. He didn't pull away, but let her touch linger there. "Can I help at all?"

Garrett looked to his computer. He had barely started, but he wasn't sure he wanted help. Being better than everyone else meant doing things on his own, didn't it?

He nodded anyway. He was tired, and this was an important grade. Once they finished, and Garrett was as satisfied as he was ever going to be, they walked back to the dorms together. They stopped in front of her entrance. Garrett stood there awkwardly, feeling Grace's anticipation.

She lifted a hand to his face. "You're so hard to read. I don't know if I should make a move or not."

Garrett closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. He didn't know if she should, either. He felt trapped. He didn't know of their friendship could survive rejection, but he didn't know if it could survive romance either.

"You should."

It was a gamble, and the one he was the least comfortable with. It would make or break their entire relationship, and if it failed, he would have to start over. He just couldn't reject her. It felt like the bigger risk. He was used to adapting. He could adapt to this.

He still didn't know how he was supposed to feel. He expected some revelation when she kissed him, but it never came. He wondered if this was all love was, but then he didn't understand its pursuit. Maybe it was meant to get better, but that wasn't what books and movies had taught him. In stories it was instant. It was butterflies and fireworks. In reality? It was pressing your lips against an other person's lips and feeling awkward. It was an invasion of personal space, of smelling a perfume that was suddenly overwhelming, because he was too close to her neck. He mirrored her to his best ability, hoping that his inexperience wasn't too obvious. She deepened the kiss, if only slightly, her hand sliding into his hair. He let it happen, waiting until she pulled back. Her cheeks were just a little pink and she smiled.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he echoed. Left in the dark alone, he wondered if there was more to the ritual of this. Was there something he would need to do now? He didn't know the protocol, but he should probably make a point to text her in the morning.

He sighed into the cold night air, and headed back to his dorm.

[beyscape]

Secrets

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: “Ransom Drysdale is the father of a child but he doesn’t know it” requested by @evansrogersmarvelcomic​

Word Count: 2010

Warnings: a swear word or two

A/N: No spoilers from the movie! The daughter’s name is Mary, just a lil’ reference to Gifted :’) Also, this has been one of my favourite prompts for a veeery long time, so thanks a lot for the request!

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

  Ransom Drysdale was a selfish asshole. Everyone who had spent as little as five minutes around him could easily see this. His history with women, the way he felt a trail made of broken hearts and tears wherever he passed through and how he only cared about his own interests were all facts well known to you. Yet still, he wasn’t all bad, you had told your friends when they tried to stop you from a mistake. A mistake, they had called it, going out with Ransom never ended well. You assured them you would be fine, just having some fun with a hot, charismatic guy.

  It was strange, how the conversation with your friends when you told them you were dating Ransom kept playing in your head as you sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. The handle of the cabinet dug into your back uncomfortably, but you barely noticed the pain.

Deep down, you had always known that it wouldn’t last. So, the year and a half you spent with Ransom was a surprise to you, as well as those around you. It was an endless repeat of a cycle, dating Ransom. It would start exhilarating, from the breathtaking dates and the way he made you feel, like the only woman on earth. Next phase would be you inevitably being mad him, the fights were passionate and tiring. He was unable to admit that he was wrong, that he was being a complete jerk and paired with your stubborn nature it would take days to end the screaming match. Then would come the angry make up sex, whatever you were fighting about melting away. This cycle repeated for a little less than a year and a half, until you couldn’t take it anymore and broke things up for good.

 That was a month ago.

 Even though it was your decision to end things and knew that it was the best thing to do for the long run, you couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken over the whole thing. Yes, you had known who Ransom was, but that didn’t change the fact that you still secretly hoped things would work out. That he would change. Just as a month passed and you started to feel better, to see clearly why you had to make that decision, it all came crashing down.

  Positive.

  You stared at the small stick between your shaking, cold hands. It was only supposed to soothe your worries as there was no way you were pregnant, just being paranoid, you had comforted yourself at the pharmacy. You were, however, very wrong, you realized with a startling halt as you turned over the three other sticks. All showed the result you dreaded.

  Positive.

  You dropped the stick next to the other ones on the floor, pulling your knees up to rest your head on them. You weren’t ready for this, a child was a huge responsibility, and the father wasn’t even in the picture- you cursed. Not only were you pregnant, you were pregnant with the baby of the one person who was absolutely not supposed to be more than some causal fun. After some hours of sitting in the same position, thinking through every possible outcome, you rose on your feet with determination.

  Many seasons passed since then, and in a blur you were the proud mother of a baby girl who now sat in front of you, playing with blocks of Lego. You watched as the five-year-old grabbed piece after piece to build a rocket, her mop of blonde hair too familiar. One last cruel joke from the man you tried so hard to forget, his daughter looked like a carbon copy of his, so you had to see the little face every day that reminded you of him. Never allowing you to completely forget the time you had spent together all those years ago now.

 You had moved out of the small apartment to a slightly bigger one, needing more space for all the things a baby brings into one’s life. You were still in the same area though, and a part of you was surprised at how well you kept your little secret. Some of your friends expressed their worries about your location, but after some thought you decided it would be too expensive to move over states. And after all, best hiding spots were always in plain sight anyways.

Those close to you knew who your daughter’s father was, but all of them made sure to never utter a word about it. Ransom Drysdale wasn’t really cut out for being a dad, it was just a simple fact. You knew too, and that was exactly why you had decided to keep him in the dark. Nonetheless, there was a part of you who wished one day, long into the future, he would get to meet his daughter.

You didn’t know how soon your wish would come true.

 It was a warm Sunday morning when you noticed you were out of milk and a trip to the grocery store was much needed. Your daughter, Mary, was thrilled at the idea and spent extra time making sure her dress had just the right amount of sparkles on it.

Maybe you had gotten too comfortable over the years, but you no longer felt the fear of running into Ransom every single time you left your house. But, you didn’t exactly hang out in the same circles even before you started dating him and become a mom. And there was also the fact that he most likely would be too busy to visit your local grocery store, instead he would be sleeping in after a night of drinking and maybe even bringing someone back to the whatever hotel he favoured at the moment. You pressed your lips together at that last thought. You had heard of him dating casually, seen pictures of him with different girls at different clubs, it was hard not to hear of Ransom Drysdale even when you did your best to avoid him. You shushed the part of you that was bothered with how fast he had gotten over you.

 “Don’t wander off.” You warned your excited daughter as you rolled the cart around. She gave you a smile, not straying from your side, watching you make progress with the list in your hands. As expected from a five-year-old though, she soon got bored.

 “Mommy,” Mary whined, tugging your hand, “Can I go and get cookies?” you noted the empty isle and the general quietness of the store before giving her a nod. You watched for another second as your daughter moved to the aisle across from you, skipping with the thought of cookies. You returned back to the long list.

–

  Ransom Drysdale took off his sunglasses as he entered the small store, wanting to grab something to snack on before he continued the drive for his grandfather’s house. He grimaced, not looking forward to seeing his family of hot messes, the hangover headache he was nursing not helping the matter at all. He sighed softly, making his way to find some cookies or something, to give him the energy he would need very much so in the coming hours.

  There he noticed a small blonde girl, trying to climb on the lower shelves with one hand reaching up, her tongue was out as she concentrated on her prize. Ransom snorted slightly before grabbing two packages of the chocolate chip cookies the small girl was so focused on getting. She looked up at him, Ransom stopped for a second as two very familiar eyes stared at him. He shook his head, many people had blue eyes.

“You’re gonna fall if you climb shelves.” He stretched out one of the packages. The girl just looked up at him, clearly hesitant. “Take it.” Ransom nodded.

“My mommy says not to talk to strangers, or get candy from them.” She retorted, still eyeing the cookies.

 “Your mommy sounds smart. So, should I put these back, or?” His lips curled a little at the corners as the girl grabbed them out of his hand. She muttered a thank you before running off. Ransom watched as she ran to the woman at the end of the other aisle, he had just turned around to leave when his head snapped back in recognition.

You were just about to cross of the last item when Mary came running with her favourite cookies clutched safely in her arms.

 “Mommy, I couldn’t reach so the nice man helped me.” She said, pointing before placing her precious cookies carefully in the cart. You raised your stare from your daughter’s figure to the man to thank him, and your eyes met with the one person you had been avoiding for the last six years. The can you were just about to place in the cart fell out of your hand, rolling away, sending Mary to catch it.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out, your heart thumping in your chest loudly. Your eyes drifted to Mary who was so unaware of her mother’s panic, and then back to Ransom, standing only a few feet away. He eyed Mary too, the initial surprise in his eyes leaving its place for a stormy look.

 “So how old is she?” He asked, finally looking at you with squinted eyes as he put two and two together.

 “Ransom.” You breathed out and took a step towards him.

 “Answer me, Y/N.”

 “She’ll be six in a couple of months.” You gripped the metal cart, steadying yourself as you didn’t trust your feet.

  “Why the-” he exhaled sharply, his eyes drifting between you and Mary who know looked at him with big eyes that were too damn familiar, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Mommy?” Mary turned to you; her little face twisted with confusion.

“Ransom, please, not now. I,” you sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this one, “I promise I’ll tell you everything. But not now. Give me your phone, I’ll text you.” You babbled, words slipping out of your mouth as your hands shook ever so slightly, you held one out towards him.

“I have your number, if you didn’t change it.” He mumbled, crouching, his eyes never left Mary. You stared at him for a second, dumbfounded, you would think a man like Ransom would delete your number the second you slammed the door as you left, never to return again.

“What’s your name?” Mary’s eyes turned to you, searching your face. Upon seeing your small nod, she took a step towards the man.

“Mary.”

 “Nice to meet you, Mary.”

 You watched the whole thing unfold in front of you, your mouth slightly open. You had imagined this moment for so many times, over and over, yet the gentle expression on Ransom’s face was so… Foreign. Unexpected.

 “Come on, honey.” You scooped Mary up in your arms, unable to watch any more. Your gaze turned to Ransom. “I’ll text you.” You turned, feeling all sorts of emotions dance in your chest as you pushed the cart away with Mary, who turned her head back to where the man was still standing.

 Ransom stood there, watching the woman he had once loved, walk away with his daughter. His daughter. Family dinner would have to wait, as Ransom found it hard to walk away. He was still standing there, watching you place Mary into her car seat, when he felt something new in his heart. He gulped.

 Ransom Drysdale was a selfish asshole, but in that moment, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his daughter.

--------------------------

My GOD I suck at titles. Might write a part 2 if anyone’s interested! Also, my inbox is open for requests!

[catboymingi]

pretty boy

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: fluff with some slightly angsty short moments; best friends to lovers

word count: 3.7k

warnings: slight language warning, a teeny tiny bit suggestive once if you squint, but it never gets hot or steamy

if you’d known that calling mingi ‘pretty boy’ would finally make him make a move you’d done it much earlier

cuddling mingi was one of your favourite pastimes, had been ever since you got over the weird awkwardness that had been around when you first became close enough to hug each other but not yet comfortable enough to not wonder if it was weird that sixteen-year-old platonic friends were hugging each other. you’d met him when you transferred to his school at age sixteen and he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you didn’t feel excluded, forcibly making you befriend him - you’d really had no choice, he would come up to you daily, tell you about his day and try to make you feel welcome - and once you had befriended him forcibly making you befriend his friends, too. it had been awkward at first because you didn’t have any “best friends since kindergarten” stories, so you were hyperaware of the impression you would leave if you were to be more touchy than a hello and a goodbye hug.

that awkwardness had first subsided during a movie night with the boys, where mingi, stupid as he was, had suggested a horror movie so he could protect you, but in the end he’d begged you to not go home yet because he was scared the killer that was without a doubt waiting for his next victim outside was going to kill you if you stepped foot out of his apartment, because unlike his friends you’d refused to get a taxi, had insisted that you lived close enough to just walk, and you’d agreed to stay for a little longer so he’d feel better, thinking that it was only the post-movie anxiety that would subside in at most an hour. you’d ended up staying the entire night, though, because your friend had refused to let you go home even after that hour, and it was then you realised that he was actually scared. so you’d agreed to stay the night, thinking you’d be sleeping on the couch - which you did -, by yourself - which you didn’t, because a certain peach-haired giant had crawled into your arms after maybe twelve minutes (he’d counted, and decided that upwards of ten minutes was enough time to try to fall asleep by yourself) and you’d ended up having to protect him rather than vice versa.

you were kind of grateful for this, because it had gotten rid of the awkwardness of it all, and after that first time of cuddling you’d been much less shy about physical affection, and it was due to this that mingi got upgraded from friend to best friend.

that had been three years now, the house where you’d cuddled with him for the first time only still being a cuddle location if his parents invited both of you over from the dorms you now lived in to stay a night because they missed you, instead both of your dorm rooms had become the preferred locations.

this was where you were now, too, being spooned by your big best friend as he was slowly waking up. you’d been awake a little longer already, usually an incredibly early riser so your body made you wake up at six in the morning by yourself, but you hadn’t wanted to bother mingi so you’d just dozed on and off until he’d be waking up, too. to your dismay, though, he was shuffling behind you, and you felt a small issue against your backside. technically, you knew morning wood was a thing, and you knew mingi was definitely way too sleepy right now to be feeling anything other than the innocent desire to cuddle and sleep some more, so you didn’t think too much about any potential hidden meaning behind it. he’d never tried to make a move, and because you’d first gotten to know each other after both of you had already halfway been through puberty you were pretty certain that if he did want to make a move he would, simply because there was no decade-long friendship to ruin. it wouldn’t be awkward if he’d see you as a potential partner rather than the kid he grew up with, because he hadn’t grown up with you. so you were convinced it didn’t actually mean anything to him. you knew for a fact that this didn’t mean anything suggestive. but untechnically it certainly didn’t help the embarrassing crush you had on him, nor did the proximity to his warm, bare chest, because it was summer and summer meant shirtless mingi and shorts and a tank top for you rather than the soft fleece pyjamas you opted for when the weather started getting worse.

“sorry”, he mumbled against you as he, too, realised his problem, calmly and completely free of embarrassment after that first time he’d woken up like this and had near pushed you off the bed in an attempt to hide the fact that a part of him was just a horny teen, unaware of the fact that you’d realised that about five minutes before he did because you’d been awake for ages. in order to avoid being actually kicked off the bed in the future you’d told him that you didn’t care, and he’d slowly become less embarrassed because this was just how his body worked, not something he could control. 

“don’t worry”, you mumbled back, shifting around in his hold now that you knew he was awake so you could face him.

“how’d you sleep?”

“not long enough”, he groaned, his deep voice a little whiny as he told you about how it had taken him what felt like years to fall asleep.

“sleep some more”, you suggested, turning around again so you were now on your back and looking at him as you patted your shoulder, “come here.”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his messy bedhead hair tickling your chin a little as he adjusted himself on the spot between your shoulder and your chest, his favourite cuddle position even though he’d never admit it.

“wake me up latest when it’s lunch time”, he ordered before he closed his eyes, nuzzling into your side some more for ultimate comfort as he let himself drift back to sleep, as confirmed by the fact that he’d apparently neglected to fully close his mouth, so you felt a teeny tiny wet spot on your shirt after a few minutes of him drooling on you. not that you minded, though, you thought it was endearing how the big, scary mingi was such a baby sometimes. it only made your embarrassing crush grow bigger, the comfortableness of it all, how natural it felt. he looked really pretty like this, too, pretty and absolutely adorable, as you saw when you wanted to play on your phone to pass the time, catching sight of his reflection in the black screen before you unlocked it, and because you were an idiot and couldn’t stop yourself you took a picture of him, where he was laying on your chest with his mouth slightly agape and sleeping peacefully.

sleeping peacefully until your phone made an uncharacteristically loud ‘click!’ sound, making you realise that you must have turned up the system sounds rather than your media in your sleepy haze the night before, but it was too late to change anything as mingi first grumbled, then shifted around, and then he lifted his head with the intention to look at you, but your phone screen was a more interesting sight, he decided, his embarrassing drooling face on full display.

“delete that!”, he whined while he tried to grab your phone, but sadly you had the advantage of being on your back so you could hold it out of reach, and he was still too sleepy to fight you for the phone. he would definitely do that later, though.

“no”, you refused, turning off your phone with the one hand you had available so he wouldn’t be able to delete it for you even if he did manage to steal your phone, because he’d need the pin code first.

“why should i delete that? i have lots of pictures of you.”

“yeah, but you just took that one so you can forever blackmail me about how stupid i look.”

mingi was genuinely convinced that was why. never in a thousand years had it occurred to him that you’d think he was cute, that you’d think he looked good even when his hair wasn’t slicked back but messily standing in all directions, even when his face was puffy and his tired eyes even smaller than usual. he was convinced he looked stupid, and he was convinced you’d use that picture to get him to buy you mcdonald’s at three in the night when it was freezing outside so obviously you couldn’t go yourself but would have no issue sending him out into the merciless cold.

“you don’t look stupid though!”, you insisted, having to stop yourself before you burst out an embarrassing compliment that might make things really awkward.

“i do! just look at my idiot expression, i look like a total imbecile.”

“you look pretty, shut up.”

there it was. the compliment you’d tried to keep yourself from cooing at him ever since you first caught sight of his adorably pouty sleeping face. and of course he wouldn’t just let it slip, either, his own embarrassing crush raising its hopeful head.

“pretty?”, though he masked the giddiness he felt with a teasing tone as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at you with a forced mischievous expression, one he wore to keep himself from smiling like an idiot.

“pretty.”

you’d have to just play along, act like it was a plain fact rather than you being way more in love with him than a best friend should be, so you continued: “now shut up about looking stupid, pretty boy.”

and if you hadn’t been so embarrassed yourself you would most definitely have noticed how much this affected him before he started stammering, because he blushed all the way up to the tips of his ears, leaving him looking a little more tan than he already was, skin a mix of a warm brown and a slight sunburn-adjacent red from the blood rushing to his face.

“pre- pretty boy?”

while you’d intended to play it cool that was impossible now he was staring at you in shock, seemingly entirely taken aback by the nickname.

“sorry”, you apologised, thinking he was upset rather than incredibly flustered and hopeful and happy, thinking now you’d most definitely made things weird.

“why are you apologising?”

“that was weird. kind of out of place”, avoiding his eyes as you spoke because you didn’t want to see him make fun of you for being weird and apparently incredibly whipped for him, as you expected he’d do. not even out of malice, he just sometimes didn’t immediately realise when a situation was serious for you, or rather how serious it was so he’d crack a joke or tease you - though he’d always apologise profusely once he realised his joking or teasing had hurt you.

“it wasn’t. just didn’t expect you to think i’m pretty when i was looking like a doofus. or like, at all.”

because he was insecure about his looks, genuinely, especially when you’d seen him so many times where he’d looked like an absolute mess, crying his eyes out over tangled, or ketchup or whipped cream all over his face because he’d wanted to convince you he could fit some random food into his mouth in its entirety, lots of situations he’d found himself overthinking later and that he found himself wanting to kick himself in the ass about for probably having made you think that he just knew how to sell himself in public but was actually average-looking at best.

“who says you can’t be a doofus and pretty at once though?”, something you were only able to say because your need to make him stop self deprecating was stronger than your embarrassment about complimenting him the way you were doing now.

“i say”, he informed you, still not able to believe that you genuinely thought he was pretty even when he wasn’t trying to be.

“and i say you’re pretty. if i have to pick just one then you’re a pretty boy and not a doofus.”

by now it was impossible for him to act cool when he was embarrassed like this, so his head landed face first in the pillow next to you, hiding himself from you because he didn’t want to have you see that he was a lovestruck idiot getting way more affected by what he assumed to be a silly nickname than he should be. though forcefully slamming his face into the bed wasn’t exactly a cool, unbothered guy’s behaviour either.

and “sorry” you apologised again, scared with every new sentence you said that that one would be the one to overdo it.

mingi just groaned into the pillow, annoyed with himself that even now he couldn’t get himself to say anything at all to in the very least hint at that he liked you, but you interpreted the groan as a reaction aimed towards what you’d said, insecurity and regret taking over as you realised that you were a fucking idiot and that you’d have to leave right now if you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. so you shuffled in the bed, sat up and were about to leave the bed when your best friend’s hand shot out to grab your wrist and keep you there with him, surprising both you and him.

and he surprised both of you even more when, once he’d seen the insecure, no, scared expression on your face, he pulled you back into the bed by the wrist, making you fall more than you were voluntarily laying down, and then he propped himself up from where he was on his side and now facing you who’d landed on your side too, shifting to turn you to your back so he could keep himself up on his elbows with his upper body hovering over you, caged by one of his arms on either side of your torso.

the surprise became unmatched when he finally made the move he’d been wanting to make for at least two years now, crashing his lips onto yours not exactly carefully because he was scared his bravery would leave him if he didn’t act immediately and fast, but his whole demeanour softened after a few seconds when you still hadn’t made any attempt to push him away, hoping that keeping himself up on one arm would work, that the strength in this one arm would be enough to keep his upper body from crushing you as the other moved to your head with the intention to cup your face, but got distracted by how soft the hair was that was spread out on the pillow, so instead he was twirling it around his finger.

if he could he wouldn’t ever have moved away, simply because the situation was one he’d wanted for so long, but his arm - the one that was carrying his entire weight - started hurting and threatened to give in, so he had to roll himself off of you, laying on his back so he wouldn’t have to see whatever expression of rejection or, even worse, disgust might be on your face.

“sorry”, it was his turn to apologise, closing his eyes just in case, really not wanting to see the exact moment you’d tell him he’d just fucked up your friendship.

“sorry”, you said, too, though you weren’t even sure why you were apologising, and your apology confused him as well, so he asked: “why are you apologising?”

“i don’t know. why are you?”

“i feel like i just messed up really bad”, he admitted, his face still turned towards the ceiling, heart beating rapidly and he didn’t know whether it was adrenaline or anxiety.

“we can pretend that didn’t happen if you regret it”, you offered, though your heart hurt at the suggestion. you didn’t want to pretend that hadn’t happened. you wanted to do it again.

“do you regret it?”, mingi asked after he’d rolled to his side because now he wanted to see your face, even if it would hurt. he wanted to see if you were lying.

“no”, you told him quietly, “i’m just scared that maybe i should. i kind of regret not regretting it because i’m scared now things will be weird because i don’t regret it but you do. i don’t know.”

you knew that maybe you should have lied to him, pretend to regret it, but you didn’t want to. part of you was glad it was finally out, even if it would mean that now your friendship was ruined. you were glad you didn’t have to keep pretending that all the nights you spent cuddled up to him, all the times he’d hold your hands and blow on them to warm them up in winter, all those cute things didn’t mean anything more to you than just that he was your best friend. in a way, you were glad the slight emotional torture you found yourself in whenever he was acting particularly sweet was finally over. even if only because he wouldn’t be acting sweet with you anymore.

“i don’t regret it”, voice quiet and serious, his eyes looking straight into yours to let you know that he was serious.

“so you’d…”

you weren’t able to finish the sentence immediately, trying to gather the courage to ask what your heart longed to ask.

“you’d do it again?”

it seemed impossible that the cocky girl that had just called him pretty boy earlier as if it was the most natural thing was the same girl that was now shyly asking him if he’d kiss her again, but she was. you were shy because now you couldn’t play it off as joking anymore, and that made it harder. he could break your heart right here if he wanted to.

but he didn’t want to. he didn’t want to answer, either, opting to pull you closer with a soft hand on the back of your head so he could reach your lips again, kissing you once more to show that yes, he would.

“do you regret it now?”, mingi asked you insecurely when he pulled away the second time, scared that now he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have crossed, but you shook your head, and finally you admitted your feelings.

“i’ve kind of been in love with you for a while anyway. i don’t know how long, but i realised that one time during summer break when you tried to shove an entire ball of ice cream into your mouth that i probably fell for you along the way. so it’s kind of something i’ve wanted since then.”

your best friend was surprised by this, because that meant you’d realised just shortly after he’d had to stop himself from kissing you that one time you jokingly puckered your lips at him to tease him, something that only got harder to resist the more time went on.

“me too”, he admitted, and then he started rambling out of… not embarrassment, but a strong feeling of being vulnerable and the resulting desire to shift the focus away from being on his emotions only.

“with you, i mean. and not since then, kind of a little longer, but you’ve always just acted friendly so i didn’t want to ruin it. being your friend is better than not even being anything, so i didn’t want to risk anything. it was fine, i was happy to be your friend, i would’ve just maybe been happier to be your boyfriend, or-”

then he covered his mouth with his hand as realisation of what he’d just said hit him, embarrassment taking over once more, along with the fear of rejection.

“would you still be happier now?”, with a mixture of insecurity and curiosity in your voice as your beautiful, shining eyes looked straight into his wide open ones.

“uh, i mean, yeah, i would, but it’s fine”, he stuttered, unsure of what to say. was it really that easy? though maybe making you almost leave, kissing you without even asking if you wanted him to, both of you fearing that the friendship was irreparably ruined before you two struggled out a confession that might maybe lead to you dating wasn’t exactly the easiest, if you really thought about it.

“i’d be happier if you were, too.”

“i can be. should i be?”

and when you hummed “mhm”, as much of a yes as you could get yourself to voice right now because you were still a little scared all of this was one long, sick joke, he felt like he might explode with happiness.

“but then i want to set that picture as my phone background”, you added. “please. i’ll delete it if you really want me to, though”, although the thought of that made you sad because you thought it was so cute and domestic, and it would forever remind you of this moment and how you’d finally started dating mingi after years of what turned out to be mutual pining.

and he saw the frown, the small pout on your face as you told him you’d delete it, noticed the way your voice got that watery tone it always got when you were really sad but pretending not to be, and he knew that even if he did really, really want you to delete it he’d never be able to make himself tell you that. not when your lip was quivering slightly, a sure sign that you would burst out crying any moment if he didn’t tell you it was okay immediately.

“keep it. but not your lock screen, please, let me keep some of my dignity.”

the trembling of your lip stopped, the little lines on your forehead smoothed out as you stopped frowning, and mingi let out an inaudible relieved sigh. emergency avoided.

then, because he was still thinking about what you’d said earlier, the thing that had made him get his hopes up enough to finally make that damned first move, he asked you: “you really think i’m pretty?”

“probably the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen. and now you’re my boyfriend”, in awe as if you still couldn’t believe it. neither could he, to be honest.

and now he was your boyfriend.

[dudeandduchess]

Sanemi x F!S/O: Cravings (Modern AU, Fluff, SFW Scenario):

Summary: Wherein Sanemi’s wife gets hit by pregnancy cravings at 2 AM. Just wholesome, domestic Sanemi fluff. Note: As promised, here’s domestic Sanemi. It’s soft Sanemi hours, y’all. 😂 Also, I HC that he would be so soft with his wife— bc chapter 200 just gave me a better look at his character when he’s with his loved ones. He would be so doting and caring with his wife, I’m sure of it. 💜✨ Word Count: 1,843

***

“Sanemi, Sanemi!” The frantic whispering was already enough to rouse Sanemi from his sleep but, partnered with the agitated shaking that his wife was putting him under, it was more than enough to have his eyes snapping open as he immediately sat upright.

There wasn’t even any trace of sleep in his eyes, as he took in his wife’s pained expression as best as he could with the dim glow of the nightlight beside her. “What is it? Is it time? Is the baby coming?”

He had always prided himself with being a calm and collected man— especially when it came to stressful situations. Sure, he was quick to jump the gun on decisions, but he always managed to retain a clear head while making them. Unlike how he was feeling at that moment.

His thoughts were all jumbled up, as one hand moved to reach the phone— especially when (Y/n) curled in on herself while letting out a pained moan.

Her hands— which had never let go of his right arm— tightened around the poor appendage, to the point where her nails dug into his skin. “Cramp! My right foot’s cramping up.”

At that, the young man practically flew out of the bed; throwing the blanket off of him and crouching down at the foot of the bed, so that he could grab her right foot and squeeze her toes together— all in an effort to make her cramp go away.

“Oh, oh god. Just like that, baby!” (Y/n) cried out shamelessly, throwing her head back against the pillows and even slinging an arm across her eyes as she breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Keep your voice down, it’s…” Sanemi checked the digital clock on his side table, then continued, “Two in the morning, woman.”

(Y/n) pulled her leg out of her husband’s hands at that, and pushed herself to sit up against the headboard— all while looking at him with narrowed eyes. “What if it’s two in the morning? This is my home; I can be as loud as I want.”

Normally, she wasn’t so moody, but her pregnancy hormones had been wreaking havoc on her emotions— especially as of late. So, Sanemi had learned to just smile things off instead of fighting her irritation with his own; not that he ever could get cross with her.

No matter how badly she tried to tease him, he simply didn’t feel mad at her. While, with everyone else, he had the shortest fuse; even with his own co-teachers and students.

“You know,” The young man began again, as he scooted closer to his wife’s feet and picked the right one up in his hands once more. Slowly, he began to knead the soles of her foot with his knuckles— slowly working his way down to the heel of it, before using his thumb to press down on her arch. “You’re really cute when you look like you want to kick me in the face.”

That move had her practically melting against the pillows propping her up, as her hands moved to cradle her baby bump. “Oh, god, that feels so good.”

“It’s still me… your husband; not god,” He uttered with a small grin, which he immediately hid by pursing his lips together in a tight line. Because the glare that (Y/n) instantly shot him, partnered with an irate click of her tongue, was scary enough to make his hairs rise on end.

He took that as her not being in a playful mood, so he set her foot back down on the bed and moved to crawl back under the covers, beside her.

“Do you feel fine now? Let’s go back to sleep.”

(Y/n) remained silent at that, merely staring back at her husband as he awkwardly stayed on all fours on top of the blanket— on his side of the bed— while he waited for her answer. “(Y/n)?”

“Ssh, I’m trying to think.” The young woman sputtered out indignantly, in an attempt to save face— because she had been thinking of eating again, even after she just had another snack two hours before.

Sanemi quirked an eyebrow at that, before moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, with his feet already on the floor. “If you want something to eat, just tell me.”

“But I just ate…”

“Just tell me.”

Sheepishly, (Y/n) smiled up at her husband— all trace of faux indignation gone from her voice— as she said, “A McFlurry… and fries from McDonald’s. Oh, and a cheeseburger, and nuggets too. And an apple pie.”

The silver-haired man remained quiet, merely sitting there and waiting for what else his wife wanted, as well as preparing his stomach for the food that was going to be pushed aside to him; because he knew her, and he knew her well… she would just take a bite out of all of those— except for the fries and ice cream, then make him eat everything else.

“And can you also get melon pan, and chocolates from the convenience store?”

Sanemi could only nod and smile at his wife, as she batted her eyelashes at him in an attempt to look contrite for sending him out so early in the morning.

“Put a movie on so that you don’t fall asleep. I don’t want to wake you up just to eat,” He uttered softly, as he leaned forward— cupping (Y/n)’s cheek in his right hand, before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

With that, he got up from the bed and quickly threw on a pair of sweats, as well as a plain black shirt— pocketing his wallet on his way out the door, and turning back to look at his wife whom was looking all cozy beneath their blanket. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay, I love you, Sanemi!” (Y/n) answered happily, before making hearts with her fingers, pressing a kiss to them, and holding them out to her husband.

“I love you, too. Crazy woman.”

***

It took almost half an hour to get everything that (Y/n) wanted, since the convenience store that was close to their apartment was closed for the night— so Sanemi had to walk to the second nearest store which was, admittedly, quite a few ways away from them.

But it was either walk there, or see his wife be sad over chocolates. He didn’t want a repeat of that whole fiasco— where she had cried because he couldn’t find dorayaki anywhere. If anything, he was weak against her tears, so he tried to make her as happy as possible; always.

Thankfully, when he got back to their home, he heard the sounds of a movie playing from their room. So, that indicated that his wife had heeded his words and did her best to stay awake.

So, he immediately made a beeline towards their room to drop off the food to keep the ice cream from melting any further, before he could take a quick shower to wash off the sweat he’d managed to work up while outside.

“You’re here!” (Y/n) piped up, clearly excited as she eyed the bags in Sanemi’s hands. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was happier at seeing the food, than she was at seeing him; but Sanemi didn’t really mind. In fact, he found it sort of… cute and endearing.

“The ice cream is in the small bag. I’m just going to take a quick shower,” He answered softly, as he set the bags on his side of the bed— which (Y/n) immediately dug through to get to her food.

“Okay. I’ll be here.” As he had thought, she immediately pulled out the ice cream as well as the fries, and started snacking happily on those— even going as far as to dip the fries in the cookie-laden ice cream. Before he could observe her further, she looked up at him and shot him the warmest grin that made his heart practically skip a beat. “Thank you, baby!”

“Of course. Anytime, kitten.” At that, Sanemi exited the room for his shower; coming back five minutes later to the sight of his wife with opened food containers surrounding her— with all of the food having just one or two bites on them.

Quietly, he heaved a sigh while he looked down at his defined abs. He had worked so hard to maintain those but, for (Y/n), he would willingly take the chance of losing them. Because it was the third time that week that she had sent him out to get her a ton of food, only to make him eat most of everything.

“Nemi,” (Y/n) called in a sing-song voice, right before she took another spoonful of her ice cream and popped it in her mouth. “Hurry, I want to cuddle.”

Sanemi could only smile at that; grabbing a pair of boxers from their dresser and slipping it on beneath the towel wrapped around his waist. And when he was sure that he was decently covered, he removed the towel and tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper next to him.

Then, he padded over to his side of the bed and carefully lifted the blanket— sliding in beside (Y/n) and instinctively wrapping an arm around her shoulders, as she used his shoulder as a makeshift pillow.

“So, while I was outside I was thinking…” He was cut off there, as his wife grabbed a half-eaten chicken nugget and put it up to his lips, which he gratefully accepted. And, after swallowing the greasy treat, he continued, “We should move in to a bigger house. One where our kids will have space to play.”

“What brought that on?” (Y/n) asked softly, all while tilting her head up so that she could look at her husband’s profile— right before offering him a spoonful of her ice cream, which he accepted once more.

Sanemi licked his lips before answering, “I just… I don’t think the city is the best place to raise kids. So maybe we can move to the suburbs and, if we don’t like it, we can move back here.”

“That’ll be expensive, though.”

“I’ll try asking Rengoku about a house near his, or if he knows a good one that we can afford… or maybe Uzui, but I doubt that those two would know anything about houses.” He chuckled at his own answer, then moved to press a kiss to the top of (Y/n)’s head. “But that’s just a thought for now.”

“It’s not a bad thought, but I’ll have to look into it...” (Y/n) laid her head back down on her husband’s shoulder, before adding, “Though, I may have to call Rengoku-san’s wife for some tips.”

“No rush on that, kitten.” Sanemi squeezed her shoulder, before letting his hand run up and down her right arm. “We do have the rest of our lives to plan things out.”

“That was extremely cheesy, you know.”

“I’m painfully aware of that fact.”

[padme-amitabha]

Prequel And George Lucas Appreciation Post

This is an ongoing list of everything I appreciate about the Star Wars Prequels (and by extension the Original Trilogy) and appreciation of George Lucas’ vision and a tribute to Star Wars when it was still about morals and depth because Disney is intent on ruining the franchise and George’s creation. I am only referring to the six original films here and the list is in no particular order.

1. Villains - One thing that Lucas does well is creating great antagonists. Now Darth Vader being a great villain and character is pretty self-explanatory but I love the way his character is handled in the movies. He is presented in three different ways in each film, or that’s how I interpret it anyway.

We see him being an imperial in ANH and a bereaucratic one at that. He is defending the battle station and basically doing his job i.e trying to locate the stolen plans. In ESB, he is suddenly a much bigger threat. He is the epitome of evil which is further enhanced by the stunning visuals. He is the ultimate bad guy who Luke has to defeat to become a Jedi. What we did not expect is the “I am your father” reveal and that Luke is defeated and manages to escape in the end. The Darth Vader in ROTJ is much more subservient and loyal to the Emperor. He obeys the emperor and waits for Luke to show up and is not much of a threat. He is also shown to be very conflicted and tries to convince Luke to join him rather than making Luke join him against his will. The reason I think he’s portrayed differently is because the story is from Luke’s perspective. Yoda and Obi-Wan led Luke to believe Vader is evil and the narrative stays faithful to that. However, when Luke realizes the word of the Jedi cannot fully be trusted, he decides to come to his own conclusion and sees the conflict and good in his father after a brief conversation. Even with the black and white symbolism in the OT, we are introduced to the gray area in ROTJ when it’s revealed Darth Vader is not as evil as he appears to be and the “good” Jedi can just be as manipulative and biased (as acknowledged by Obi-Wan clinging to his own point of view and encouraging a boy to kill/fight his father without even sharing the information with him) - and Lucas continues to explore this in the Prequels.

The Prequels are about the fall of a centuries old noble religious order and how a single man managed to bring an end to democracy. History shows to bring down an established government it must have some structural flaws and as such the Jedi are shown to be just as bureaucratic as the imperials in ANH; the Jedi are portrayed in a negative light. The Jedi had grown arrogant in their abilities and had grown personal loyalties (such as Mace Windu to the Republic) and they were too blind to acknowledge the flaws in their perception. Qui-Gon was an exception to this and he was more compassionate and better Jedi like the knights in the Old Republic and his death in TPM foreshadows the fall of the Jedi order and of the golden era of the Jedi. At the end of the trilogy, Yoda and Obi-Wan are the sole survivors. It proves even the wise and experienced Yoda could be wrong as he confessed to Qui-Gon in ROTS. Obi-Wan was a Jedi who was very loyal to the order and the council and wished to follow the code by the book and still over the years he had grown attached to Anakin and had a strong emotional bond with him which was why he was still alive although deeply affected by the events. Hence, both Yoda and Obi-Wan were forced to acknowledge the weaknesses in their order and as a result grew as characters.

The prequels also demonstrate how the strict and flawed ways of the Jedi drastically changed Anakin’s life and how he struggled to fit in the order but at the same time making a point that the code didn’t change the lives of all the Jedi such as Obi-Wan who was quite content as a Jedi. The contrast shows how the lifestyle affected people like Anakin who were ruled by their emotions, and how it ended up pushing him to the dark side.

Palpatine is another great villain in contrast to Vader because he is anything but conflicted. He is the true epitome of evil and unapologetically so. I have seen very few stories actually pulling this off because a character who’s purely evil tends to be one dimensional or run the risk of coming across as incompetent even though the creator tries to tell us that they are very capable, such as Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter. However, this can be done well if the main focus of the story isn’t on the main villain by minimising their screentime so they still appear a looming threat till the main character(s) defeat them in the end and accomplish something, as done with Fire Lord Ozai from ATLA and Palpatine in OT. Palpatine is a looming, sort of foreign threat in the background who is shown to be purely evil and chaotic and he only appears in the last film. He isn’t defeated by the hero but by his own apprentice who served him for years. Vader is the main villain in OT and of course a great one at that. But the PT establishes that Palpatine is very much an accomplished villain as well. He’s a treacherous Sith Lord who has managed to evade the Jedi at the height of their power by hiding in plain sight. He orchestrates a galactic war by playing both sides and emerges victorious. He turns the clones against their allies and comes to power by latching onto emergency powers, much like Hitler. Even without Anakin/Vader’s help, he’s fairly successful in eradicating an entire order by studying and utilizing their weaknesses.

One of his greatest accomplishments is manipulating Anakin for years and slowly grooming him to be the perfect Sith apprentice. He takes his time to get in his head and establishing trust and knows exactly what to say to win him over, and while he is doing this he isn’t sitting idle. He has other apprentices whom he discards after they serve a purpose. He is ambitious and always scheming and I would say he’s a pretty successful politician too as he had quite a few supporters in the Senate to be elected Supreme Chancellor. He was the ultimate mastermind pulling the strings and manipulating everyone around him even Padmé in TPM.

As others have noted before me, the titles of the prequels have multiple meanings. While Darth Maul is shown to be the Phantom Menace in regards to being a mysterious figure who looks like the devil himself and stalking the main characters, so is Sheev Palpatine and Queen Amidala in the sense neither are who they pretend to be. Padmé’s two identities are obvious in the film while Palpatine’s double identity remains hidden. The Attack of the Clones can also be interpreted as Palpatine vs Sidious as they are the leaders of the both sides and they are referred to as clones as they are identical i.e. the same person. I also love how they incorporated the emperor’s theme from ROTJ into the ending theme in TPM and it’s a subtle reminder that it’s as just as much Palpatine’s victory in being elected chancellor.

I personally don’t mind that Maul was killed off in TPM because even though he lost to Obi-Wan it wasn’t before he killed an accomplished Jedi Knight. He was just as skilled as them and we see the Jedi struggle to keep up even with their strength in numbers. I love the fact that he more like a silent assassin because a lot of villains have a habit of chattering which is often utilised by the heroes to win, and Maul still retained the sense of mystery around him by the end of the film.

It’s pretty well-known that Maul, Dooku and Grievous all foreshadow the rise of Darth Vader, the franchise’s most iconic villain. Maul is a Sith Lord who unquestioningly obeys Sidious, Dooku is a former Jedi who left the order due to ideological differences and also personal ambition and Grievous is part cyborg with a preistent cough (similar to Vader’s wheezing) to make a point that technology is not without limitations and also a reminder of his humanity.

All in all I think Lucas is a genius who has managed to give us pretty amazing and actually proficient villains who could give the heroes a run for their money.

[riotfuckery]

Love takes some work

A/N: Hello it’s me, your neighborhood big tiddy goth gf and lowkey weeb. Uhhh I just want to thank all of you for reading this and I hope you enjoy my trash writing! Anyways, enjoy my Shinso fluff . Also shoutout to some but not limited to my fav writers to help me get inspired to write again after many years. Sending lots of love and good vibes to all of you @ikinabi @kiriwhore-sama @shinsouzone @adoringwords @birds-have-teeth @kingtamakimurder @meganshinsou-tm @trafalgar-temptress @queensynderella @lady-bakuhoe

Shinso Hitoshi was in love. Madly and irrecoverably in love. From your shiny (h/c) hair to the ugly cackle you have when you laugh at your friends antics. He loved everything about you with every fiber of his being. But life isn’t so kind as to give us what we want, we have to work for it.

His love for you started one late night in the common area of the dorms. He was up with his usual bout of insomnia and took a break from looking at memes on his phone to make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. That’s where he found you waiting in the kitchen for the water to boil to make your own tea. You heard his footsteps and turned to face him.

“Hey Shinso, what are you doing up so late?” you asked softly, as to try not to wake anyone up but still loud enough for him to hear across the kitchen. You were dressed in a fluffy pair of cat pj pants and a oversized black plain shirt.

“I should be asking you the same question” he asked, his tone more gravelly than normal but not missing the sass.

“That’s fair, well I’m making a cup of tea since I can’t sleep, how about you?” You answer especially interested in hearing his response.

“I was actually about to do the same thing so I guess I’ll wait till you’re done so I can make mine” he said

“Well I put in enough water for two cups so come on over and pick your tea” you smiled at him while you turned to get your own choice of tea and mug.

He gave a you a shy smile and put a hand to the back of his neck before he walked till he was next to you. He chose a simple green tea with a cat mug and set it down on the counter next to yours.

“So what’s got you up so late?” You asked. Your lidded sleepy eyes and slightly messy hair from rolling around in bed made his heart beat a little faster than normal.

‘What the fuck? Why is she so cute? Also not hesitating to answer as well’. His mind was racing a million miles an hour but just pushed it off as being sleep deprived.

“Oh, ya know the usual bought of insomnia” he replied with a slight grin. You on the other hand were looking at him in the same way, little to his knowledge. The amethyst eyes that were excentuated by his seemingly permanent dark circles and even messier bedhead put you in a daze where you could only focus on him.

You snapped out of it quickly, much to your dismay when you realize you had to reply to him. “I feel that” you giggled quietly. “It’s actually nice having someone to talk to late at night instead of questioning my own sanity at 3am” you looked up at him with a gentle smile. Just then the electric tea kettle clicked off, signaling it’s done it’s job.

You gracefully grabbed the tea kettle with a hum, pouring Shinso and yourself water into the mugs. He said a small thanks and went to stir his own tea while you did the same. You were humming “everything stays” from adventure time while you put in your add ons.

Shinso was silent, quietly listening to your humming with a small genuine smile on his face. You stopped humming and turned to look at him shyly “hey uhm, if you don’t plan on going to bed immediately, do you wanna hang out for a bit?” You asked him, suddenly being painfully aware of how attractive he really is under the low lighting of the kitchen. You cursed yourself for being nervous and cursed the small blush you can feel on your cheeks while taking a sip from your tea to hopefully hide it.

Saying he was caught off guard was the best way to put it. He was hit with the tidal wave of realization that you, the cutest and kindest girl in class 1-A who didn’t hesitate to speak to him despite his quirk or his class wide announcement that he wasn’t here to make friends, just asked him to hang out?????

He hesitated for a moment, thinking it was some kind of prank or get at him to do a favor for you but when he looked at your shiny doe-like e/c eyes that held no bit of maliciousness or hate toward him, the walls that he put up to protect himself from getting getting hurt started to crumble.

Crack

“Sure if that’s alright with you” he responded in his signature deep and lazy tone. Your eyes twinkled for a moment and he swears he could hear the cracks the cracks in his walls getting bigger.

Crack crack

“Of course it is Shinso, I always thought you were really cool and you seem like a great person so I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to” you smiled up at him. His heart rate that had seemingly just calmed down came back with a vengeance. He was wondering if you could hear it from where you were.

He blushed at the comment and shyly put his hand on his neck once again. He was thankful you hadn’t called him out on it. You started to walk over to the common room couches and he followed. You plopped down then patted the space next to you on the couch with a playful smile.

It was from then on, your late night couch talks with tea and whatever dumb show on the lowest volume setting possible became special to him and you. You were always waiting in the kitchen with the kettle going when Shinso showed up. The more you talked the closer you became. He could practically hear and feel his walls crumbling down whenever you were around him.

Crack

Crack

Crack

It was soon that you exchanged numbers and even sooner that you considered each other best friends. Talking about everything to horror movies and tv shows to the meaning of life. But no matter how much you were together, the late night couch talks were always your guys’ favorite. You both even indulged in platonic cuddle sessions while hoping the other couldn’t hear the racing hearts and see the small blushes that were happening.

Soon enough he couldn’t go to sleep without some sort of physical contact from you. So when one night you were MIA from your late night couch talk and cuddle session, he sent you a text asking if you were okay and when he got no response he panicked. He sneakily rushed his way to your room and knocked on your door softly. When he got no reply but only heard the sounds of sniffles is when he hesitantly tried the door to see it was unlocked.

He stepped in quickly and shut the door behind him quietly. That’s where he saw you curled up on the floor trying to hide your sobbing from the world and himself. He quickly rushed over and sat in front of you. You gasped and looked at him with dull eyes for a moment before looking to the side away from him. His heart was aching at the sight of your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He himself wanted to cry but he held it in for you.

Your quirk, ghoul (shoutout to Tokyo Ghoul) was considered very powerful but very volatile. It would go haywire whenever you were angry. Your eyes turning black with a red pupil and red veins around it. You would also sprout bright blue wings made of what looked like water tended to spread and shot arrow like darts to take down opponents. Your nails would sharpen to claws and teeth would sharpen into fangs along with a boost in your strength, speed, and reflexes. After years of training and you have great control of your wings but not your eyes and nails.

He knew what people said about your quirk as people said the same thing about his. He knew that it would get you down sometimes but you would always brush it off with a smile while always defending him in return. They called you a demon and a monster. One look from your black and red eyes had most people snap their mouths shut. He’s never seen you like this though, so when he saw you looking so broken his heart shattered for you.

“H-hey kitty, what’s wrong?” He cursed himself for stuttering and panicking in front of his crush. The tears were still freely falling while you were trying to hold in your sobs. He moved his hands to your face while wiping away the tears with his thumbs. You still refused to look at him. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

He tried again “Kitty, you can tell me what’s wrong, I’m here for you okay?” You took a deep breath and held his hands on your face, nuzzling into them for a second before you looked at him. Your eyes were in ghoul mode and your nails were sharp as the tears were still streaming but you were no longer sobbing. He lovingly stroked circles on your cheeks and looked at you patiently with a small smile on his face. He didn’t flinch or widen his eyes at your change.

You took another deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. “Some kids called me a monster and that no one would every willingly love me without being simultaneously being terrified of me, they said I would be alone for the rest of my life. And I know they say that all the time but today it was just too much. I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life and I especially don’t want to scare you away because you’re my best friend and I can’t imagine my life without you Toshi” the fear in your voice was breaking through and by the end the tears started again.

You could see him getting angrier but not at you, at those dumbass punks. He never stopped wiping your tears and he waited patiently for you to finish.

He was angry, so incredibly angry by the way his muscles tensed and his eyebrows furrowed. But the soft and loving look in his eyes never waived from yours. “Kitty, you’re my best friend and I plan to stay in your life forever. So you’re stuck with me till you kick the bucket okay?” He relaxed when he saw you smile shyly and nod your head a little. He was never great with words so he did what he did best and used his actions to say what he needed to say.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead which caused both of you to blush. Thankfully it was dark so both of you couldn’t see pink tinting each others cheeks. He moved his hands from your face and held one of your hand with his, interlacing your fingers together. “Cmon kitty lets go to bed, I’m sure you could use some rest.” He spoke gently. He guided you to your bed and pulled you down with him.

He released his hand and you moved so your head was on his chest. He put his arm around you and held you closer while playing with your soft hair, gently combing through it and petting it. He laid his head back on your pillow and reveled in the feeling of you so close to him, your hair smelled like f/s and felt so silky in his rough and calloused hand. You intertwined your legs with his on instinct and wrapped your free arm around his waist sleepily. The gentle (but fast) steady beating of his heart lulling you to sleep almost immediately. What you said said next make his pink cheeks red and the tips of his ears burn.

“Thank you so much for everything Toshi, for being you being you and for pulling me out of my meltdown. I love you so much.” Your voice was heavy with sleep and it sounded like music to his ears. He didn’t have the time to say it back as he heard your soft even breaths and your light snores. His chest was about to burst from the joy and relief he felt. Tiny happy tears stung the corners of his lavender eyes and he took another deep breath of steady himself as a wide grin overtook his face.

SHATTER

The walls had broke fully now, all his love for you came pouring out like a broken dam. His dreams of being with you now having a chance to become real. He kissed your forehead for the second time that night, the grin still on his face now down to a sweet smile. “I love you too kitty, I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up. I’ll always be here for you” and with that he kept petting your hair until he too fell asleep. And it was some of the best sleep he’s ever gotten.

[365days365movies]

January 4, 2021: First Blood (1982) (Part II)

Quick Recap before we go on. Oh, and SPOILERS right up top!

John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) is a Vietnam vet wandering through Washington State, until coming upon the town of Hope, run by the Sheriff Will Teasle (Brian Dennehy).

Sheriff Will Teasle is an absolute dick who arrests Rambo for no real reason; just for being a “drifter.” His police force, which includes the sadistic Galt (Jack Starrett) and sympathetic Mitch (David Caruso, AKA Horatio Caine from CSI: Miami), beats John Rambo, and post-2020 me is UNCOMFORTABLE!!!!!!!

Rambo has Vietnam flashbacks (like you do) and escapes the prison, pursued by the obsessive and dickish Sheriff and his equally dickish men (except for Horatio, maybe).

Galt tries to shoot Rambo, and karma bitch-slaps him RIGHT in the face, holy shit. He dies, and Rambo is blamed and shot at, escaping into the forest.

OK?

OK. On with the recap!

At this point, all of Rambo’s actions are in self-defense. In truth, it’s been self-defense since the beginning. However, he does kill two dogs, so...yeah, can’t really justify that. That sucks. The dog’s handler gets shot by Rambo, who now has a gun, and we also see that Galt’s certified sociopathy has leaked into everybody else but Horatio upon his death, including the dog guy, who tells his dogs to straight up kill Rambo. But, as previously stated...that’s not what happens.

At this point, I should introduce the amemedala.

The amemedala is a portion of the mesencephalon (or midbrain) discovered in the brains of millennials and younger individuals, recently discovered, named, and made up by yours truly. This area, attached to the thalamus, acts as a relay center between the cerebrum and the various sensory receptors of the body, similar to the function of the thalamus. However, while the thalamus governs the broad relay of senses to the appropriate areas of the brain for analysis, the amemedala relays appropriate sensory signals to the frontal lobes, where catalogs of shared sociological trends, or memes, are housed. This relay and association generates connections between extrenal stimuli, and entries in the meme catalog of the frontal lobes. While this is technically an autonomic process, it can be suppressed with enough willpower.

Why am I ringing this up in the middle of First Blood? Because EVERY. SINGLE. CELL of my brain is working to suppress the amemedala right now. Why? BECAUSE OF THE LORAX, AND FOR WHOM HE SPEAKS.

Is it an outdated meme? Very much so. BUT I CANNOT GET IT OUT OF MY GODDAMN HEAD AS I WATCH THIS MOVIE.

OK. That is now out of my system. Anyway, Rambo continues to speak for the trees, which is understandably starting to spook the smalltown cops. This leads to the VERY surprising moment where a camouflaged Rambo appears OUT OF NOWHERE and stabs Horatio in the goddamn leg! Like, wow, he was invisible! I had to rewind the film to see where he was. This is tense...and awesome, not gonna lie. This is awesome.

And then, he gets another cop by JUMPING FROM A TREE. Well, a tree stump, BUT STILL. After he takes him out, he stands in plain sight in front of an approaching cop. That cop, subscribing once again to the shoot-first-ask-questions-later policy, fires. And I SWEAR, Rambo is FASTER THAN THOSE SPEEDING BULLETS, as he dodges out of the way, and the bullets HIT THE COP HE JUST TOOK OUT!

And then, when I didn’t think this could get any more intense, that cop triggers a booby trap, and A STICK WITH WOODEN SPIKES GOES THROUGH THIS MAN’S LEGS, AND HE’S SPEARED LIKE A KEBAB OH MY GOD

The asshole sheriff runs to the NEW set of panicked screams, and his compatriot is just Batman-ed away by Rambo. It’s just the sheriff, now. The storm is building, and the forest is getting darker. The sheriff frees leg-spike cop, and goes to find the other cop, who’s been PINNED TO A TREE LIKE A BUTTERFLY IN A DISPLAY CASE. See, look!

HOLY SHIT IT’S RAMBO WITH A KNIFE IN THE FOREST. He pins the sheriff up to a tree, then with some legitimately badass lines, threatens with the sheriff with “a war [he] wouldn’t believe,” and telling him to make like Elsa and…

I love this sequence. It is the most intense, crazy, holy shit sequence I’ve seen so far this month. Wow. I understand why people talk about this movie. Man, that was a hell of a ride! Good movie, though. All right, so, time for the final sco-

Oh. Oh, my God. I’m only HALFWAY INTO THE MOVIE?

...Wow. OK, then.

We now meet Colonel Sam Trautman, Rambo’s commander in the Green Berets. He’s come to “get his boy.” He says that he came to rescue the Sheriff’s dumb ass from Rambo, rather than the other way around. And the Sheriff is...an idiot. He’s an ass, he’s a maniac, and he’s a stubborn idiot. Even after learning that Rambo is the best, he’s unwilling to back down, the dummkopf.

Rambo kills a wild boar in the woods, which makes no sense for Washington State, but whatever, sure. Anyway, they try to get the colonel to lure Rambo out, even though that’s obviously gonna make his PTSD, just...SO much worse. Especially as he starts using Vietnam parlance in contacting him. Not gonna end well, guys. But it’s then that we learn that Rambo is now the last surviving member of his unit, contributing to his trauma. Rambo’s also been trying to get in contact with the Colonel, winding up here because he has no place to go. He says that there are no friendly civilians, and the trouble’s been caused by that “king-shit” cop. I will be using this term from now on.

Wow. Damn. Hell of a reason for that title. And I think I love this movie. Seriously, I’m having a good time.

King-Shit Cop keeps going ahead with his absolute idiocy, despite all warnings to the contrary. So, a bunch of troops now converge upon Rambo’s place, but he naturally opens fire on them, without killing a single person. In fact, he hasn’t killed anyone this whole movie, and they make a point of saying that he’s been holding back the whole time. So, they decide to use the next, most logical course of action. They FIRE A ROCKET AT HIM.

Afterwards, the Colonel and King Shit Cop catch up at a bar, where the latter exposes his full sociopathy, commenting that he just wanted to kill Rambo. This is opposed to the Colonel, who doesn’t really know what he’d do if Rambo survived.

Which, of course, he did. C’mon, you think a little military-grade propelled explosive is gonna kill John Rambo? Nah. He’s the best there ever was, and he’s gonna prove it now. He jumps into a military vehicle holding an M-60, and hijacks it. Doesn’t take long for the news to break that Rambo’s still kicking, and he’s quickly intercepted by King Shit Cop, who JUST. DOESN’T. KNOW. WHEN. TO QUIT. And I’d admire his tenacity if he wasn’t SUCH AN ASSHOLE.

The cops try to run Rambo and the truck of the road, and he plays the UNO Reverse Card on them instead. And I’m pretty sure at this point…

...that old Johnny boy’s just killed some cops. So, yeah, now there’s a bigger problem. He powers through the State Police blockade like it was a banner blocking a football team, stops at a gas station, grabs the gun from the car, and LIGHTS ALL OF THAT SHIT ON FIRE! Destroying the livelihood of an individual who had nothing to do with this.

Yeah, Rambo’s starting to turn from innocent acting in self-defense to public menace REAL quick. And yeah, it’s King Shit Cop’s fault entirely...but, yeah, Johnny needs some help, because he’s losing the train at this point. But, not to be outdone, King Shit Cop is also beginning to lose it, and it’s definitely beginning to seem like only one of them is going to come out of this alive. And the Colonel tries to give him an out, but King Shit Cop’s prepared to go down with the ship that he blew a hole in in the first place. Like an asshole.

But here we go, the finale. John Rambo vs. King Shit Cop (whose name, by the way, is Will Teasle. I just like Rambo’s name for him better). KSC’s on the roof, Rambo’s on the street. Rambo causes more property damage, possibly because banks also give him PTSD (I joke, but PTSD is no laughing matter, John clearly needs help), and then finds his way to a store that has just all of the ammo a psychologically-damaged Vietnam War veteran on a revenge quest could ever need.

And then he BLOWS. THAT. SHIT. UP.

And he does this...ALL of this...just to lure KSC out of hiding. This man DESTROYS A TOWN because this idiot, sociopathic, unhinged, King Shit Cop, won’t just STAND. THE FUCK. DOWN ALREADY.

Rambo enters the police station, where KSC is on the roof. And, like the Colonel and the rest of us guessed, KSC gets shot in the process. And as Rambo stands over KSC, the Colonel finally shows up and does what literally everybody else should have done.

Talk. He just...talks to Rambo. He talks to this mentally ill man, and that mentally ill man responds, espousing his pure anger at the war, the public, protesters, work, the country, the town, himself...everyone. And goddamn, is that shit palpable.

This man can no longer fit in the world that he was forced to leave, and forced to return to. This poor, poor, poor man. It hurts. And it sucks. And he pours his heart out to the Colonel, and to us, and...you feel it. You feel his trauma, you feel his pain. You feel the aftermath of war. And it’s been seven years at this point for the Colonel, but no time for John. Not Rambo. John. And it’s just...never over.

Damn. Goddamn.

This...this is one hell of a good movie. And not just a good action movie, either. A damn good movie.

And that’s it. That’s First Blood.

[let-fans-be-fans]

STAR WARS Episode 8 - The Last Jedi

Only read after watching The Mandalorian s2 e8

Imagine a Lucasfilm Story Group that has actually worked as a group since 2015.  Chuck Wendig’s draft of the first Aftermath novel has been roundly mocked and pulped before ever being committed to print.  This isn’t about that, though.  This is the germination of the story seed that is planted in The Mandalorian, so join me as we explore one of the possibilities that could have happened within the Star Wars universe: What If Grogu (the Child/Baby Yoda) first appeared in TLJ?

Ahch-To, the steps.  Luke Skywalker regards his guest Rey with a quizzical expression, telling her simply but firmly “I can’t take that, but there is a place for it somewhere...” and the two move inside Luke’s little hut.  Passing by a large levitating pod, Rey (and the audience) experiences mental flashes of meeting Finn.  Smash-cut to Finn himself waking up in the recovery suit in the med-bay.  Finn/Rose/whatever sub-plot (this post isn’t about fixing THAT car-crash, let it marinate) ensues, does what it does.  This timeline’s Rian Johnson, however, is co-existing with LFL’s Story Group and especially Dave Filoni.  They’ve cooked up one hell of an A-plot, and it continues thusly:

Rey never sees what is in the pod, and begins to wonder if Luke is messing with her or starting to go a little peculiar from isolation, on account of how he talks to it.  In fact, something is starting to make her feel slightly more at ease.  Maybe even a little guilty when Luke’s mood turns sombre and he says, “I know.  About Han, and Ben...”  We maybe even get a little nostalgia-boost by Luke opting to use the training remote and blast-shield helmet to start training Rey.  It’s like poetry, it rhymes.

All through this time, Luke has not withdrawn himself from the Force out of shame.  He has always kept himself open to it, learning from the spirits of his teachers.  The night that Rey decides to leave and try to aid the Resistance (or to confront Kylo Ren for her own reasons) is the night that Luke receives a visitation from two very unexpected spirits.

That’s right, y’all.  The first Force ghost appearance of a non-Force-sensitive character in the Saga.  Padmé and Anakin show up to give Luke the news that some strange, dark figure has attempted to kill Leia by shooting at her private chamber on the Resistance flagship, only for Luke to not understand why they don’t know the attacker’s name.   “You don’t need to hide it, to protect him.  You know, as well as I do, that it was Ben!”  Anakin shares a concerned look with the spirit of his wife, and the next thing he says would absolutely blow the cinema audience out of every single seat in the house.  “Luke?  Son, listen to me.  Who is this Ben?”

That’s right.  Anakin Skywalker, the former Sith Lord Darth Vader, has absolutely no idea that our sequel trilogy’s Vader-like antagonist (his own grandson) even exists.  Even as the Force ghosts watching over Luke and Leia and their families for all this time, both Padmé and Anakin explain that from their perspective, something is bending the Force itself around Ben Solo, pulling him away from not only the Light side, but also from its Dark side.  “The boy, Ben Solo, is living his entire life surrounded by a wound in the Force.  This wound, it’s very subtly, slowly eating him!”

Luke is still in shock from hearing the ghosts of his parents telling him what is happening to Kylo Ren.  Rey is trying to keep him out but the villain is urged by his twisted Master, the Supreme Leader of the First Order.  Their telepathic communication is picked up on by Luke, who all at once sees what has truly become of his nephew.  Ben Solo appears to his uncle, surrounded by tendrils that look like animated cracks in a pane of window glass.  This is the wound in the Force, and its presence is felt most strongly by the eldest living Force-sensitive on the island of Ahch-To.  A short cry splits the cracked and bleeding image of Kylo Ren and Rey wakes with a sudden start.  Luke is frowning as he looks toward the floating cradle, then he makes his decision.  We (and Rey) are about to meet the 100 % physical in-camera puppet.  Cast and crew are made to sign an infinite supply of Non-Disclosure Agreements, Rian Johnson is talked into only letting Mark Hamill, Daisy Ridley and the puppeteers onto the sets while everybody else is shooting their things.

The cradle pod swings back its protective lid slowly, and there he is making his debut before an audience that paid full movie theater (remember those?) ticket prices.  Exuding full fucking “Gizmo in the box on the coffee table” energy, the Child glances sleepily between Rey and Luke.  This is why the legendary Jedi Master left the civilized New Republic, he tells Rey.  The massacre of his first generation of Jedi students, the betrayal by his nephew, all of it would have been for nothing if he couldn’t save one very important life.  Rey is sworn to protect the Child, who is old enough now to speak his own name.   “Grogu?  Is that what he said?”  “One of his protectors told me it’s his name, right before telling me how I looked just like my father.  We had a pretty good laugh about that...”

Leia/Poe/Holdo subplot, and [THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPH WILL ONLY INCITE SHOUTY BEARDO YOUTUBERS TO SCISSOR THE HEADS OFF ACTION FIGURES THEY BUY WITH THEIR OWN MONEY, THEREFORE IT IS CENSORED TO SHIELD THE AUTHOR FROM PROSECUTION]

Before the Holdo manoeuvre, the Hyperspace Karen or whatever you want to call it, Rey acts out the plan that she and Luke have concocted in secret so that Chewbacca in the Millennium Falcon can safely evacuate both Luke and Grogu.  Rey hasn’t been told about the wound in the Force that swirls around Kylo Ren, but for some reason she can now see the same churning mass of tiny cracks in reality, and they spread out behind the Supreme Leader Snoke in much the same manner that Palpatine’s throne sat before the spiderweb-looking window of his tower on the Death Star.   This is it, we think.  Snoke is the wound in the Force drawing Ben away from his true self.  Even as the lightsabre that Rey brought with her ignites and strikes Snoke dead, the audience is thinking along with Rey that the wound is going to close up.

IT GETS BIGGER.  AND IT FUCKING CONSUMES SNOKE’S BISECTED CORPSE LIKE A SHADOW VERSION OF THE THING FROM THE 1982 MOVIE

So no.  Rey sees it happen, but Kylo remains completely oblivious as he takes up leadership of the First Order.  Something about the way he accuses Rey of the murder makes us think he really believes it too.  As Rey narrowly escapes, haunted by the sight of the living animalistic wrongness that ate Supreme Leader Snoke, General Hux is rather confused.  “Forgive me, ah, Supreme Leader.  But you are the first Supreme Leader of the First Order.  There was never a previous holder of that position, my Lord.”  I know!  Right!?

The Resistance’s last ships have limped along the supply line to the long-abandoned old Rebel holdout on the silicate world of Crait.  The wreckage of Snoke’s flagship the Supremacy, hangs in space, permanently suspended in the wake of the Holdo manoeuvre.  From the epicentre, a single pinprick of darkness begins to expand hungrily to devour the light from the hyperspace explosion.  The great wound left in the Force crawls across the destroyed vessel, the thinnest tendril of its immense darker-than-space form now separated from Kylo Ren.  Or, so it would seem, anyway...  Reunited with Rey, Luke gives her an understanding nod when she informs him of how the lightsabre of his father was literally ripped in half by the destruction of Snoke’s flagship.  Some of the elder members of the Resistance don’t have the slightest clue what Rey’s mysterious words mean.  As far as they know, Kylo Ren has been the brutal enforcer of the First Order, only recently declaring himself the first Supreme Leader of the faction.  Finn and Rose both speak up in defense of Rey, both of them surprised to hear that Leia also knew of Snoke’s death and the destruction of the flagship by her erstwhile friend, Amilyn Holdo.

Nobody can agree what happened, because a large subset of Resistance personnel share vague, half-formed memories of things as Luke, Rey or Leia tells them.  No droids, or Chewbacca, share their recollections, and uneasy looks pass between members of the post-war generation and the Skywalker twins.   It’s a quirk of the Force!  Every sentient born after the death of Emperor Palpatine, the unfortunately waylaid Maz Kanata informs them via hologram, possesses a significantly higher potential for Force abilities than the generation who grew up on the fringes of the rise of the Empire, the clamp-down on Jedi and suspected Jedi.

It would seem that this Force baby boom did not extend to First Order space (being mostly disaffected ex-Imperials, their families would be more careful to weed out any aberrations in the bloodline and try not to be of interest to the Emperor) as only Kylo Ren, their rightful Supreme Leader and master of the Knights of Ren demonstrates any ability to touch the Force.  That voice that only he can hear in the presence of Darth Vader’s ruined helmet tells him, its tone and pitch and cadence shifting (starting as the booming bass rumble of Vader’s synthesized voice before being joined by the harsh rasp of Snoke.  The low, menacing tone of Maul and the cackling, wheezing Palpatine.)  Power is the only thing worth holding onto.  Let the past die, kill it if you have to.   Cut out the weakness that keeps you bound to things like family...

“This is not going to go the way you think.”

Driven on by the maddening chorus of voices, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has now managed to track his hated Resistance opposition to the deserted world of Crait.  Ships entering the vicinity of the mysterious hyperspace blackout are slowly consumed, vanishing into the great wound and becoming officially non-existent.  Alone against his crazed nephew, the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker steps out onto the crystalline plain before the bulkhead doors of the former Rebel base.  He cannot be hit by the guns of the lumbering walkers that his errant nephew orders to fire on him.  Kylo’s attempts to telekinetically barrage Luke with the salted earth of Crait simply do not phase the man.  As he calmly reminds Kylo: “The Rebellion is reborn today. The war is just beginning. And I will not be the last Jedi.” Kylo Ren’s dangerously unstable lightsabre blade harmlessly passes over Luke as he ducks out of its reach.  Finally, the angry young man seizes his moment and lashes out at Luke’s midsection.  Nothing?

The Jedi Master nods his head slowly, the camera pulling back to reveal him sat in a meditative posture atop a flat-headed rock just off the shore of his home island on Ahch-To.  Focusing his will through the Force, Luke appears not only in front of Kylo Ren, but also between Leia and Rey inside the base.  The two of them in turn are surrounded by a loose semi-circle of the younger, more Force-sensitive recruits of the Resistance including Finn and Rose Tico.  All of them, opening their conscious selves to the Force, are helping to shoulder the burden that Luke has taken on.  Proudly, Luke slowly rises from his seat and sends a mocking salute to Kylo.  “See ya ‘round, kid...”

The last supplies are loaded onto what few Resistance carriers and short-range fighters they have left, as well as the famous Millennium Falcon. Rey and Grogu both agree that their first priority is to properly re-establish contact with Luke Skywalker.  Furious, Kylo retreats to his ship-board meditation chamber, pounding his gloved fists into the ashes surrounding the remnants of Vader’s helmet.  Cursing the scavenger girl seems to spark some interest in the bizarre otherworldly whispers, the flash-image of Rey in the dark young man’s thoughts prompting the inner voice to remark, “We shall be re-united soon enough.  Yes, you will see what new powers I possess in time, sister...”

SMASH TO END CREDITS!

[qupshalfempty]

Bumblebee X Reader - Flirty Saving and Confession

Requested by: @ozzy-bozzy

Words: 2,211

Reader POV

I was heading out of my berthroom, making my way down the hall when I spot yellow in my peripheral vision. Already knowing it was my favorite scout, I stood with a hand on my hip waiting for him to catch up. He buzzed and beeped once he caught up, thanking me for waiting and asking what I was up to.

“Just waiting for you honeybee, you wanna head out?”

He buzzed excitedly at me, the smile behind his mask made his optics slightly squint.

“Well come on.” I spin on the heel of my pedes and head to the main room. ‘Bee’s pedesteps following closely next to me. As we’re on our way, I look over my shoulder plate to see him already looking at me. His face lights up from being caught staring, or from the smirk I give him knowingly. Could be either.

We entered the main hanger of this old building we called a base. Some of the other’s turned at our arrival, giving us uninterested glances before returning back to work or conversations. Seeing none of the humans were here and needing watched, I transformed and was already outside of the base when I heard ‘Bee just start transforming and exiting the hidden tunnel behind me. I slowed down enough for him to catch up, both of us riding side by side into the hot desert with no destination in mind.

We drove pretty far, surrounded by trees in a forest I didn’t recognize. Both of us transformed out of our alt-modes taking in the view around us. The forest was nearly overgrown, the trees stood three to four times our height and cast the entire forest in shadow. It was a nice place for shade, compared to the heat of the desert. Walking farther in with ‘Bee slightly behind, I was looking up at what little sun peeked through the cracks of the treeline when I decided to make conversation with my all time crush.

“First time something on this planet is taller than us, huh?”

He didn’t speak- er… beep back.

“‘Bee-?”

I didn’t have time to turn and look before I was tackled onto my side, both of us landing behind a fallen tree. A shot rang out, I watched as it went past our “shield” and into a tree behind where I once stood. Leaving a black burn into the bark. That would’ve hurt, possibly landing into my shoulder. ‘Bee had already got off from on top of me, me slowly following behind. Hurriedly kneeling out of sight of the intruders, ‘Bee was already up and aiming towards the other bots, using the fallen tree as protection from their returned shots.

‘Decepticons!’

And sure enough, ‘Bees right. There stood 5 purple, ugly ass decepticons in front of us. A couple hiding behind trees as shields and the other three standing in plain view, slowly advancing towards us. I shook my head, grounding myself before joining ‘Bee in the fight. Two of them already down, the third one in plain view offlining shortly after. The only remaining two being those behind the trees. For an ambush there didn’t seem to be many here, maybe they expected us to be easy pickings?

While I continued to shoot, I see more of that ugly ass purple in my peripheral. Glancing to the left, a decepticon was sneaking behind ‘Bee, bringing his gun up behind ‘Bee’s helm. Before he could I tackled the bot, sitting above it and landing a single blow to it’s helm. The metal crushed beneath my servos, offlining him with a single punch in seconds. I stood off the bot’s body, fake dusting my frame off.

“We dealt with them quick, and looked good doing it too-”

Turning back, ‘Bee had dealt with the last remaining two. But he had this far away look in his optics as he stared in the direction of the last remaining bots he’d offlined. Looking closer, his servos were clenched by his sides. I hurriedly commed back to base.

“Ratchet, we’ll need a groundbridge.”

I went by his side and took my servo down from beside my helm and wrapped it around ‘Bee’s shoulder, turning him around to face me. He looked slightly angry, keeping his helm down to avoid my optics. I bent down enough to look into them, our helms inches from each other.

“You alright?”

He slowly nodded, but his expression didn’t change.

“What is it?”

He made a sound similar to a sigh before he buzzed angrily and beeping sadly.

“I should’ve known, I’m a scout! And you were put in danger because of me.. Nearly...”

Cutting himself off, his shoulders slumping. He looked up to me with sorrow filled optics. I sighed and squeezed my servo on his shoulder in comfort.

“You couldn’t have known that’d happen! Scout or not, and we’re fine! I’m okay, you’re okay. And we’re going back to base to watch a movie with the human’s that probably got there a while ago.”

While his saddened look didn’t go away, he looked slightly better. He hugged me with a force that nearly knocked me back onto my aft. I wrapped my arms around him tightly. He usually doesn’t take things like this to heart, but I had an idea to cheer him up. I lightly pushed him away, grabbing his servos with mine and looking into his eyes. His expression changed immediately, from sad to shock. But not hesitating to grab my servos tightly with his bigger ones. We gazed into each other’s optics, our helms pressed together. After so long of us joking back and forth, and even longer realizing my feelings, I spoke softly.

“I like you, you are so caring towards me. More than anyone else-”

“Incoming groundbridge.”

The familiar sound of a portal resounded from my right, and of course the green and blue swirls was there. Sighing I pulled him along, despite his protests for me to continue, and into the portal. Once inside, I let go of his servo and head down the hallway. Before vanishing, I turn back and give him a smile and enter my room for the night. Leaving a blushing ‘Bee behind.

I couldn’t help but blush once in the private of my berth.

Next Day - Bumblebee's POV

I was having a conversation with Bulkhead in the main hangar, asking for advice. Seeing as everything seemed friendly with Y/N up to this point, I was confused. He wore an incredulous look with a raised brow at my buzzing.

“Really?”

“Hey ‘Bee.” I jumped, startled from my lingering thoughts of yesterday. They were behind me, most definitely seeing me startle from the knowing smile they gave me. They smiled as they passed me, optics locked onto mine. Their servos barely grazed mine that hung to my side. Winking, they transformed and sped out of the base. I stared at the tracks they left behind wide eyed, turning around to the others to see if they saw all of that as well. Arcee had a raised brow and the same incredulous expression as Bulk, aimed at the entrance of the base. While Bulk was just as surprised as me, mouth plates hung wide open. Suddenly Ratchet grunts from his place at his console, taking notice of the events as well.

“Are you leaving or not?”

Not needing to be told twice I sped after them.

They left very distinct tracks as well as a dust trail behind them as they drove in the desert, most definitely going to leave dust on their nice frame afterwards. After driving for a while, I see them just ahead of me. I caught up with them and drove by their side. I beeped and buzzed at them. ‘What are we doing?’

“What does it look like we’re doing? Racing!” And they sped off ahead of me. I beeped competitively. It’s on.

Catching up, we went neck to neck. I didn’t know where we were going, so for the most part I stayed behind. I planned on waiting for the last second to jump ahead once I saw what they deemed the finish line. We sped in circles around tall rock figures in the desert, obvious they had no set path but just taking a cruise. A fast cruise. I could hear them giggling ahead of me, before their mirrors moved slightly, attracting the sun and blinding me. I swerved a bit, before gassing it and returning to their side to avoid the sun’s reflection.

‘Hey’! I beeped in mirth. They just giggled harder, not slowing for a second. They made a sharp turn, heading towards a rock with a cave made into the side.

“Catch up, slow poke!” They yelled before entering the cave, slowing just a bit to hit a curve inside before vanishing from my sight. I follow after them, slowing down quite a bit due to not knowing the turns. Luckily there was only one path so I couldn’t get lost. The jagged hall was lit by weird blue crystals, warning me of curves ahead and lighting my way. Before long I cruised into an open room, with a pool of water inside as well as stalactites hung from the ceiling. More of those odd crystals decorated the walls beaming the lights off the crystallized mineral deposits hanging from the ceiling. The blue off the water reflecting seen clearly as white lines, dancing across the jagged rock walls.

Y/N stood on the other side of the room, out of their alt-mode and crouching by the water, more white lines shining on their frame. I followed suit, transforming then standing by their side.  Different shades of blues shone off of their frame, blinding me from their beauty in this moment. Before I could crouch to see what they were looking at something pushed my lower back causing me to fall forward into the water. While I was submerged under water, I heard full out laughing from the surface. Already knowing what happened, I broke through the water with a playful glare. Y/N calmed for a second, seeing my face and only laughed harder. That’s when I snaked a servos around one of their ankles and pulled it towards me, causing Y/N to stumble a bit following me into the water. Seconds later their bright smile breached the surface, the water up to their chest plates still giggling with the cutest look on their face..

We both locked optics gazing at each other. The lines that danced on the walls was now  on their frame. Assorted blues casted against her chassis and reflecting off their optics.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

They smiled at me, walking around me with their one of their servos grazing my hip. I stood still, just moving my head in their direction as they circled around me. Soon they were directly behind me, moving forward with their left servos on my shoulder and their helm resting on my other shoulder. Their chassis lightly pressed against my back, I leaned into the touch with my head leaning back slightly to see their expression. They took their chance and kissed me from behind. Rolling with it, I brought my right servos up to rest on the back of their helm pushing our helms closer if possible. All without moving from our position, them still comfortably behind me. This couldn’t get any better. We both pulled back, lookking into each other’s optics before I see movement in my right peripheral.

‘Splash!’ Water hit the left side of my helm, blinding me. I turned, buzzing, trying to grab at them before they could escape. They got a foot away when I had a grip on their hips and pulled them closer. I heard giggling, they were squirming, trying to get away.

‘Nope.’ I beeped out, hugging them close before picking them up slightly out of the water by their waist. Their laughs grew louder, causing flutters in my “gut”. I lost my grip, but finally I could see out of my optics and quickly grabbed their wrist before they could get any farther.

“Hahaha, hey!” We wrestled, me trying to trap them in my arms and them struggling to get away. They were laughing too hard to resist, taking my chance, I grabbed both of their wrists and pulled them closer to me. They stopped, knowing they were caught and just kept giggling with their eyes closed. Enjoying our little “fight”. Once I knew they’d stay, I brought both of my servos to their waist. They got the picture and we both swayed side to side in the water. Our hips causing ripples to bounce off the sides of the pool and the lines on the wall to dance with us.

After minutes of silence, they spoke up.

“Ya know, I think we’re past the flirting stage.”

‘I hope so.’

Their laugh is the best sound that’s reached my audio receptors. Even with all of the light around the both of us, they shine much brighter.

After Bee Left…

Ratchet sighed, his gaze remaining locked on the screen as the young scout sped out of the base. “Took them long enough.”

Arcee and Bulk nodded.

[ashfountainfanfics]

“This is ridiculous,” Mike sighs in exasperation, “my friends and I had nothing to do with any of this.”

The detective at the other end of the table doesn’t seem to accept this. She’s a recent transplant from another state. Most of the Derry police department leaves Mike be, summing up his interest in police matters as a side effect of his fascination with Derry history. She doesn’t seem to be interested in giving that same assumption.

“You keep saying that,” she pushes, “but I think it’s strange that you show up to all the crime scenes and that two of your friends harassed one of the victims. Not to mention that Henry Bowers was found dead under your place of residency.”

Mike is growing more and more frustrated. It was surreal when the police showed up at dinner last night. The Losers Club plus the small group of cops nearly overwhelmed the small Italian place they’d been enjoying.

Bev, Ben, and Eddie are sitting in the lobby while Richie and Bill are in cuffs. Mike is somewhere between the two options or so he figures. He’s not sure he likes those odds.

Detective Lopez fixes him with a look that lacks any hint of retreat or gentility. She’s a no nonsense kind of woman. Her curly, dark hair is cropped in a pixie cut and her face is bare and set in a deadpan expression. Her blouse is a gray button up and the lanyard of her badge is tucked under her collar.

“It’s a small town,” Mike responds, “coincidences are everywhere.”

“Nothing is ever just a coincidence. Did you know Mr. Bowers?”

Mike calmly explains how Henry Bowers was the resident bully when they were children. How often that bullying went past simple pranks and low grade violence. To stop at calling Henry a bully was like trying to call Ted Bundy just an unfortunate date.

“You can ask Ben about his scar, that should give you a clue.”

“I understand that Mr Bowers had a history of violence and mental illness-“

“Being an angry white boy is not a mental illness,” Mike points out.

“Agreed,” Detective Lopez says flatly, “but that isn’t my point. My point is that several children and a man named Adrian Melon are dead and the escape of Mr. Bowers does not correlate with those deaths.”

“It doesn’t correlate with the arrival of my friends either. They weren’t here.”

“But you were.”

Mike is taken aback by the remark. All this time he’s been keeping watch, dreading the day that Derry needed saving but looking to save it nonetheless. Not that this town ever gifted him much beyond tolerance. He has no adult friends here, no significant others, only a series of routine faces that note his presence. Derry, Maine isn’t friendly or good. It’s not even scenic but he wanted to save it anyway. His jaw tightens.

“Of course I was here. I live in Derry. I’ve lived here most of my life, where else would I be?”

“You didn’t know these kids. You didn’t know Adrian Melon. Why did you visit the crime scenes? What business did you have being there?”

Detective Lopez is standing over him now with her hands planted on the table. She does this all calmly with very direct body movements. She never lets her frustration get to her. She harnesses it into orderly conduct and in a way it’s terrifying.

But she’s an outsider without all the facts. You can tell she comes from a big city by her demeanor and her thought process. Often a crime is committed by someone close to the victim or someone that makes themselves close. Contrary to the movies, the person most likely to kill you is the one in plain sight and right next to you. Monsters that hide in the dark and stalk you like prey aren’t the norm.

Mike is glad that he and his friends got rid of that norm for Derry.

“Detective Lopez? Have you ever seen someone die-“

“Of course I have. I’m a homicide detective.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Mike insists, “I was asking if you’ve ever seen someone die when you were a child?”

This gives her pause. Her elbows soften the smallest amount and her hesitancy is plain to Mike. She doesn’t sit. There’s no way she’s backing down that quickly but it’s clear she’s listening.

“I can’t say I have, why?”

“If you take the time to look into me a bit more you’ll know that my parents died in a fire and I was in the other room. I was too little to help them. I couldn’t save them.”

Now Detective Lopez sits down. Her posture is unnaturally straight and her gaze is still unwavering. This is either the best she can do to convey being receptive or it’s the most she’s willing to give.

“Can you imagine the sort of impact that has? I couldn’t even put down a sheep on the farm I grew up on. The idea of causing harm to anyone or anything, indirect or necessary or otherwise, still makes me sick. So please, Detective Lopez, don’t insult me with what you’re trying to infer.”

“Be blunt then. What were you doing?”

“Trying to see if there was a way to stop it. If you look at our history, you’ll see there’s a pattern. Every 27 years since the town was formed, a stretch of terrible things happen. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. Longer than my family’s been in Derry.

I thought maybe if I could pay attention for the next phase I could find the connection. I could save them.”

Mike can see that she’s regarding him as an absolute looney but Mike hopes it’s the harmless kind. She can picture him tinfoil hat and all if it means she doesn’t see him as a murderer.

“And what did you find?”

Mike decides that this is as good a time as any to tell one last lie. It’s not like she’d understand the truth of the matter. She’s the type to only accept hard facts and indisputable evidence. There isn’t anything he can show her to back the truth. Nothing but a lot of rubble on Neibolt street.

“I found nothing. Whatever makes this town the way it is, it’s not for me to understand.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Pennywise was just a part of what made Derry the way it is. Its death isn’t going to cure Derry of its bigotry overnight. There will still be small minded people, violent people. Mike will never understand that.

“So you’re giving up? Just like that?”

“I almost died because a literal living relic of my past broke out of an insane asylum and tried to kill me. I think that’s a sufficient wake up call that I’ve wasted too much time on this town and my own baggage.”

Mike can’t tell if she’s buying it or not. Detective Lopez gives away nothing. She’s an absolute professional to the core. Mike respects that. Derry could use someone on the force who can’t be swayed.

“I may need you to call you back in to corroborate a few stories so don’t skip town,” she gives him a curt nod, “You’re free to go.”

Detective Lopez opens the door to Mike’s freedom. Mike has a feeling that the others have been given similar instructions or that they will be given them. He wonders briefly if they should have thought ahead to confirm a set story with each other but he thinks better of it. None of the Losers are crazy enough to tell the truth.

“Hanlon, wait,” the detective stops him as soon as he’s out of the door frame, “tell your comedian friend that making jokes isn’t going to work with me. It’s not endearing and he’s digging a much bigger hole for himself.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, trying to get him to stop is a joke in and of itself.”

—-

“Her first name is Jennifer!” Richie shouts as if wounded, “Last name Lopez! What did you want me to do?”

Richie can tell that his lawyer is not amused. His voice sounds really far away and it is. He’s driving to Derry as fast as he can.

“Richie, this isn’t your usual legal trouble. This isn’t stolen material or a damaged room-“

“That was one time and I was still a baby! How was I supposed to know what ecstasy looks like? You’re about to see the podunk town I grew up in, man.”

“They’re talking homicide!”

“I still cry over Bambi, for fuck’s sake. Do you seriously think I’d kill anyone for fun?”

“Of course not.”

Roger Clemming has been Richie’s lawyer since the start of his career. He’s a cousin of his manager and normally Roger has no qualms about representing Richie. Most of his legal cases aren’t even his; the man doesn’t write his own stand up so he can’t exactly be held responsible if it’s stolen. Richie Tozier is an easy client.

“I didn’t even mean to kill him. He had Mike and it was clear that old Bowers was totally batshit. I reacted. I don’t know.”

“So we have a witness. That’s good. The more witnesses the better. I just wish you hadn’t pissed off the Detective.”

“Yeah yeah I’m an asshole but I didn’t say anything about the case. And I stayed away from ass jokes!”

“I’m sure that’s what will save you.”

The Derry police station is not a big place. The holding cell is visible to the front lobby and there’s only two private rooms; the sheriff’s office and an interrogation room. Richie can see Eddie, his arms crossed and his face looking like he bit into a lemon.

Stressed out, Eddie spaghetti? You’re not on this end of the station.

“Be honest with me, Roger, am I going to jail or not?” Richie clings to a rare moment of seriousness.

“You defended someone from an escaped convict. If you sit back and don’t make an ass out of yourself we may not even go to court.”

Richie sighs and he wishes he could telepathically share this news with Eddie. He stares down Eddie in the hopes that somehow they do share a psychic link. Eddie remains pissed at some very specific wall instead.

“And, uh, my friend? Bill?”

“I’m not sure a trial can be avoided on that, but as long as there’s no physical evidence then the best they’ve got is circumstantial with no real motive. They’ll be grasping at straws if they charge him. Dead kids do make for angry parents though and sometimes they’ll pull a guy to trial because they’ve got no one else to blame.”

“So 50/50 chance?”

“40/60 of an arrest being made and I can’t begin to estimate the odds on him being found guilty. That all comes down to the kind of town your Derry, Maine.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Richie groans and buries his face into his free hand.

“Watch it, Tozier,” the nearby cop warns him.

Richie apologizes and feigns composure.

“Sorry kid,” Roger’s using his turn signal given the soft ticking in the background, “I’ll do my best but I make no promises.”

Richie mutters a sentiment of gratitude before hanging up. It would still be the better part of a day and a half before his representation gets here. Technically he’s not even sure if Bill wants Roger to represent him but Richie figures it couldn’t hurt to arrange it. After all, do either of them really want to trust whatever a Derry lawyer looks like?

---

Bill settles in for the night. To be honest, he’s slept in far more uncomfortable places than a holding cell. He wasn’t always a big famous writer. He remembers when he had to sleep in his shitty, used Toyota back in the early days. Now he’s got two houses, a celebrity wife, and a second movie deal. None of which he’s particularly sure he wants anymore.

It’s startling how unconcerned Bill is about the charge against him. He’s been taken in on suspicion of murder but Bill knows damn well he didn’t kill that kid and Detective Lopez doesn’t have much of anything on him except that he was seen yelling at the child earlier at the day and had been spotted at the carnival. 

Bill didn’t want to seem entirely unhelpful though despite knowing they were never going to catch what killed that boy. He offered an account of what he thought was an animal attack but it was difficult to make out. Richie’s lawyer probably won’t like that he talked without him present but Bill doesn’t really care.

Bill blamed the yelling on a mental breakdown. His hometown memories were complicated and a failing marriage and work pressure wasn’t helping. When he saw a kid about Georgie’s age living in his old house, he lost it. It was easy to sell this because it wasn’t really a lie. Detective Lopez did make a comment to Bill about how childhood trauma seems very convenient in this town but Bill didn’t know how to respond outside of confusion.

“All right, everyone,” a tired cop announces into the lobby, “Y’all should get yourselves to bed. Visiting hours are over.”

The other members of the Loser’s Club are essentially draped across each other in the lobby and half asleep already. Ben is in the middle like some sort of handsome centerpiece. He has an arm over Beverly and Mike is leaning on his free shoulder. Meanwhile, Eddie is sitting on the floor at Ben’s feet looking tense and irritated.

They gather themselves up except for Eddie who continues to sit on the floor.

“Eddie, honey,” Beverly says softy, “it’s time to go.”

“Richie and Bill didn’t do anything wrong. I will leave when they do.”

Bill chuckles a bit at this and looks over to Richie on the other side of the holding cell. The look on his face gives him pause because it’s not what he was expecting. Eddie looks genuinely frightened in here. He’s also watching Eddie as if looking at the last boat on a sinking ship; one that’s just too far out of reach. Bill isn’t sure what to make of that.

“They’ll be okay,” Mike assures the sulking man on the floor, “I know these cops. They’re decent.”

Eddie doesn’t respond.

“Sweetie,” Bev is getting a hint of irritation to her voice, “we can come back in the morning.”

“I refuse to get up. This is a protest.”

Bev sighs and looks to Ben.

“We’re going to have to force him.”

“Force him?” Ben asks back incredulously, “Force him how?”

“Ben, he weighs 90 pounds soaking wet, what do you think?”

“Oh Lord,” Mike immediately understands the implication.

Ben thinks about it for a second and it dawns on him the same exact time it dawns on Eddie. Ben is briefly horrified by the idea.

“You wouldn’t” Eddie challenges him.

Ben looks helplessly at Bev who shrugs as if to say that there’s no other way. Eddie recoils as Ben clearly accepts his orders and approaches Eddie with strong arms ready to lift him. His stance is that of someone attempting to capture a wild animal.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me!” Eddie screams while rapidly kicking his legs to slide away.

Bill again turns to get Richie’s reaction to all this. He’s pleased to see Richie desperately stifling a chuckle. The cop stationed here for the evening seems to be frozen in disbelief as one grown man is trying to catch another and that other fully grown adult man is essentially crab scuttling his way to safety.

On reflex, Eddie sends a hard kick and gets Ben right in the shin. Ben stops his pursuit to cradle it.

“Eddie! What the hell!?” Bev scolds him.

“Now that’s enough!” the cop finally sees fit to reanimate, “I’ve seen some bull shit in my day but I won’t have a brawl in the station! Sort yourself out or I’ll put you in holding! Got it?”

Eddie gets up from the floor.

“Oh no,” Richie says quietly.

Bill’s confused but looks back to the scene playing out before him. Eddie looks apologetic and humbly confronts Ben.

“Sorry, Ben” he says meekly.

“It’s just my shin,” Ben responds, “It’ll bruise but it’s fine.”

“No, I’m sorry about this.”

Eddie uses his whole body to send a punch right into the side of Ben’s scruffy and very shocked face. Eddie’s fist retreats just as quickly as it had departed and he’s shaking out the pain of contact. Ben cups his cheek, obviously not very wounded. The man’s essentially built like a brick house for fuck’s sake. This does get the cop moving though.

Eddie is escorted into the holding cell with Bill and Richie. Richie looks in awe of Eddie either because he was so reckless or stupid Bill can’t figure which. He does have sneaking suspicion however that Eddie’s little stunt has more to do with Richie than with Bill himself.

Eddie is still pouting and sits square on the floor all over again.

“The little guy will be free to go after he cools down, unless you want to press charges,” the cop asks Ben.

“What? No. No… it’s fine.”

Mike quietly exits as quickly as possible. He’s clearly done with the nonsense that just played out. Bev and Ben stay behind a minute as Bev checks his cheek over again. Bill can make out the soft conversation they’re having but just barely. She’s apologizing for her plan, saying she didn’t think Eddie would fight that much.

“No no, it was a good idea,” Ben assures her.

Bill can see the way that comment washes over her. Ben was always full of a certain sincerity and purity that none of the other Losers ever really had. He’s soft and probably the only one of them that didn’t end up with a ridiculous amount of paranoia or cynicism. Bill doubts that Ben is unscathed but it looks like he at least had the good sense not to unleash his unknown trauma on anyone else.

Unlike Bill and his marriage to Audra.

It’s painfully clear to Bill right now just how much Audra looks like Beverly. They’ve got similar frames, similar facial structures and they’re both redheads. Granted, Audra’s red comes from a salon but it suits her as naturally as it does Bev. They could be sister’s.

‘Why can’t you be how I want you to be?’ Bill remembers saying to Audra not long before he took off to Derry. He’s disgusted with the comment now. He’s disgusted with the fact that he kissed Beverly and it meant more to him than his entire marriage. He’s disgusted with himself.

“See you in the morning, boys,” Bev waves to everyone in holding.

She doesn’t give Bill any special treatment. No lingering eye contact or wistful gaze. It’s as if she never had a crush on him at all, as if they’ve never shared anything. Before it always felt as if she was looking to Bill and now she’s looking at Ben.

Despite a sense of heartbreak, Bill takes comfort in that difference.

---

There’s only two beds in the holding cell. One of which is already taken up by Bill who is sound asleep. Eddie is still sitting on the floor and up against the wall. He watches for the cop to doze off. Sure enough, he’s starting to snore in his chair.

Eddie quietly and carefully scootches over to Richie. Richie’s been lying on other cot, entertaining himself with some sort of impromptu, silent puppet show. He breaks from it as he notices Eddie encroaching on his personal bubble.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers.

“Hi…” Richie answers.

Eddie isn’t sure of how to move forward. Originally he had mapped out exactly what to say after the gang’s celebratory dinner. He was going to apologize for kissing Richie, explain again that he had panicked. He would ask that they move forward from this and go back to normal. He wanted to reassure him that he is very alive and not going to die anytime soon too. He wanted to know how much it meant to him that Richie cared so much. He never knew he was that important to anyone.

Eddie did not plan on embracing his inner chaos and landing himself in a cell for the night. He still isn’t entirely sure what came over him in that moment. The idea of leaving just hit so hard and quickly that he couldn’t do it.

“I went to jail for you,” he glares at Richie.

Well that’s not a good start, Eddie mentally notes.

“I see this. I’ll file it under your list of uncharacteristically brave fuckery.”

“I mean that I want to talk. We need to talk.”

“Oh.”

There’s a pause between them. That pause grows into a prolonged period. That period slinks into awkward silence. Eddie is aware since he brought up the conversation that he should actually start it but his head is empty. All he can think about is how the stab wound in his cheek hurts and how flustered Richie looks.

“Look, man,” Richie gives in, “We don’t have to talk. I get it. You panicked. Case closed. Mystery solved. We both deserve a Scooby snack for that epic conclusion.”

Eddie realizes for the first time that Richie is hiding behind his humor. He feels like an idiot for not noticing sooner but his eyes are a dead give away. Richie is making more eye contact now than usual. It’s like he’s forcing himself to present a put together facade. He’s watching Eddie to make sure he believes it.

Eddie wonders if it might be prudent to look at Richie in a different light. In childhood, he was always just that asshole friend. He liked to pick on him but never past annoyance. You’d think trying to steer clear of Henry Bowers would have made Eddie resistant to a friendship built on teasing. In retrospect, Eddie’s not sure what did open him up to it. By all logical accounts, Richie shouldn’t mean much of anything to Eddie and vice versa.

“Why do you do that?” he decides to approach it directly.

“I’m a comedian, Eds. Cracking a bad joke is as natural to me as breaking wind.”

Eddie could easily feed into this but he doesn’t want to. He physically sits up straighter and takes a calm breath in. It’s tempting to write Richie off as immature and continue down the rabbit hole of humor at Eddie’s expense but he refuses. Richie is keeping a secret of some kind which seems painfully obvious to Eddie now. If he’s ever going to move forward from recent events he’ll need to know what it is.

“What are hiding?” he leans in close.

Richie’s face loses all color. He stammers for a moment and Eddie is secretly pleased with himself. He’s so used to Richie getting at him that it is deeply satisfying for the tables to turn. Eddie tries not to stay in that mentality though. He wants answers not revenge.

“Bill’s the one with the stutter,” Eddie points out, “fess up. You’re hiding something from me and you’re using your crap jokes to do it. I won’t go to sleep until you tell me what’s going on.”

It seems a little overkill but Eddie is feeling the dramatics today. They saved each other’s lives earlier. They should be able to talk. Eddie debates their closeness as he waits for an answer. Sometimes it felt like they were the closest two people in the room and other times they were the furthest. Eddie wants to know why.

“I- uh,” Richie is sweating at the forehead, “I want to say first that- shit no. Okay, growing up I- fuck no that’s going to take forever.”

Eddie continues to glare down his friend. It’s not that he wants to force the truth out of him but rather his concern is growing. Showing Richie his soft side doesn’t come naturally though. So here he is trying to be a good friend but acting like a displeased asshole.

“Okay, here goes,” Richie takes in a breath of confidence, “Dinner.”

“...dinner?”

“Yes.”

“What about… dinner?” Eddie says bewildered before getting accusatory, “I swear to God, Rich, if this is a set up to a mom joke I’ll-“

“Dinner!” Richie says again a bit too loud.

The guard stirs. The two men freeze. A few seconds later a loud snore emerges. Eddie sighs in relief. He’s done just enough to end up in here. He doesn’t want to get in enough trouble to stay.

“You and me. Dinner. Us. Dinner. Together. Y’know, dinner?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and relaxes his shoulders. So it’s not a joke about his mom but a joke nonetheless.

“Oh. I get it. Ha ha, very funny. Like a date,” Eddie comments sarcastically.

“Yes.”

Richie isn’t grinning. He not casually avoiding eye contact either as he does with a usual set up. Instead he’s looking directly at Eddie with everything he’s got. It’s the ‘please believe me’ look from before but in an entirely different context. It’s sincere.

Jesus Christ, I think he fucking means it, Eddie panics.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying even as confused internal screaming fills his insides.

“Shit. Really?” Richie is as shocked as Eddie is.

“Yeah.”

“You’re going on a date.”

“Yes.”

“With me.”

“I guess.”

This is all on the premise that Richie is released in time for a date. He may end up in real jail. Then what would they do? A prison dinner date doesn’t have the most enticing ring to it.

Eddie feels like a part of him has detached from his own brain. Whatever his body is doing is past his control now. The surrealism of this unexpected direction broke him.

“Move over,” Eddie demands quietly.

Richie backs up as far as can, looking absolutely befuddled. Eddie climbs into the small space left on the cot. He’s tired. There’s only two cots and one is taken. It makes direct sense to share at least when you’re not entirely in your own body anyway.

Eddie remembers briefly about how the two of them would often share the hammock as kids. Eddie unceremoniously plopped himself in and fought for space so often that it became customary. He never did it to anyone but Richie though. He was the only one.

Richie braves putting an arm around Eddie and at first Eddie’s spine goes rigid. He’s not ready to think about this, not even sure if acting on it is right yet. He still feels far away from all this even as he Richie’s body heat cradles him.

Something about the way Richie’s hand cups the small of his stomach feels...good. Eddie’s body relaxes and he realizes how fucking exhausted he is. It’s been an exceptionally long 48 hours. A little shut eye and a cuddle isn’t so ludicrous. Even if it is with Richie Trashmouth Tozier.

“Just keep it in your pants,” Eddie yawns before falling asleep.

[thisisthepartwhereyou]

BEASTARS MINI-STORY #4: “A Different kind of Charity pt. 4” by JCL

---

We see Juno standing in the shadow of a large pillar in another part of the building. She looks upset and stares down at her still bleeding hand.

JUNO: (This evening is turning out to be a disaster)

She thinks back, and we see Louis saying the same thing which he said just a few moments ago:

FLASHBACK-LOUIS: "My kindness back then was just charity."

This prompts Juno to groan angrily.

JUNO: "(Goddamn idiot...!)

Her ears drop and she leans back at the pillar, now looking depressed as she starts to lick her palm.

JUNO: (But who's the bigger idiot here? I am the one who got so angry that I walked off in a random direction and got lost)

She shakes her head and spits out what appears to be a tiny shard of glass.

JUNO: (Operation Good Moon Rising might've just sunk to the bottom of the abyss...!)

???: "Hey, miss!"

Juno looks at the direction of the voice that addressed her. It is Agata, Louis former shishigumi-associate. He is giving Juno a friendly expression.

AGATA: "I know you don't I?"

Juno on the other hand look confused.

JUNO: "Uh..."

AGATA: "You may not remember me, but we met some time ago in the back alley market."

Juno thinks back, and we see a flashback of when Juno went to talk with Louis while he was still the shishigumi's leader.

JUNO: (It must have been back when I went to see Louis...)

We return to the present, where she looks at Agata with uncertainty.

JUNO: "Yes? What are you doing here?"

Agata scratches the back of his head.

AGATA: "I was paired up with this lioness who goes here every year. Her father is an old associate of the shishigumi, and I'm her age, so basic math really."

Agata then notices the blood on Juno's hand.

AGATA: "Hey... You're hurt."

Juno looks down.

JUNO: "Just a little mishap with my drinking glass. I was looking for the kitchen to find some bandages, but I kind of-"

AGATA: "Got lost in the heat of the moment, I understand."

Agata offers a hand.

AGATA: "Can I have a look? I've sealed quite a few wounds in my day."

Juno looks hesitant, but then extends her hand. Agata leans forward and gives it a close look.

AGATA: "The cuts are not that deep. Just some disinfection and bandages should do the trick."

Agata straightens up and points with his thumb over his shoulder.

AGATA: "I know the way to the kitchen. Come with me and we can have that fixed."

Juno looks a little unsure. She just met this lion, though he does seem friendly and is kinder-looking than the other members of the shishigumi. Plus, he seems to be on good therms with Louis.

JUNO: "I... What about your date?"

AGATA: "She won't notice if I'm gone for minute or two."

Juno stares at him and then shrugs. --- We skip ahead for a bit. We are in the break room of the restaurant staff, where we see that Agata is helping Juno with her wound. He has removed three shards of glass from it and has placed them on a napkin.

AGATA: "Okay, this might sting a bit."

He is now cleaning off the blood from her hand with a wet cloth. Juno twinges at this.

JUNO: "Shouldn't you clean it with alcohol?"

Agata shakes his head.

AGATA: "That's what they do in the movies. Applying it to cuts could harm the tissue and delay healing. Water and soap should be sufficient."

After this, he wraps Juno's hand in bandages.

AGATA: "That ought to do it."

Juno flexes her hand a bit, testing the tightness of the bandage. She looks grateful.

JUNO: "Thank you... I guess I should learn to control my strenght better."

AGATA: "Don't beat yourself up about it. It happens to the best of us."

Juno looks down.

JUNO: "Yeah... And I am sorry for interrupting your date."

Agata shrugs.

AGATA: "I wasn't really enjoying myself anyway. Lionesses are way too bossy."

He then proceeds to take up a pack of Paruboro cigarettes from his frontpocket. He pulls out a cigarette and puts it in is mouth before lighting it. He exhales a bit of smoke and gives Juno a curious look.

AGATA: "So what was the deal with you and Louis-sama? Are you his woman?"

Juno looks surprised at the lion's directness. She then snorts and shakes her head.

JUNO: "He invited me as his friend."

Agata doesn't look overly convinced, taking notice of Juno's dress.

AGATA: (With that outfit?)

JUNO: "Honestly, I'd probably feel sorry for those who tries to date him. He is not the easiest guy to get close to. Being his friend is tough enough."

AGATA: "Sounds like he still acts the same as he did back when he led the shishigumi."

Agata takes another drag from his cigarette and gives off a small chuckle, remembering Louis antisocial behavior from when he was his boss. --- AGATA: "See, a typical crime boss must always maintain a strong front; looking weak will make your subordinates look weak, and if they look weak, the whole organization is in peril, as it will incite other organizations to go after you. Fear, sentimentality, bad habits... Show too much of that when you have several lives dangling from your choices, then you might as well go shopping for funeral flowers."  

We see a flashback of Louis walking through the back alley market with the shishigumi walking right behind him, in what appears to be a homage to Reservoir Dogs (1992). People in the market get out of their way and show signs respect as they pass.   --- We then return to the present, where Agata now looks a little worried.

AGATA: "But that was when he was still our boss. Back then he already kind of overdid it, which was good to us, but not really the best for his health. Several of us had actually hoped that he could act more his age after he stepped down. You know, relax a bit, enjoy himself... Not always be so hands off to fun and emotion, if you know what I mean."

Juno nods at this.

JUNO: "That's Louis all over. I mean, why else would he ask you to make sure I was alright instead of doing it himself?"

Agata inhales too fast and begins to cough violently. He then gives the wolf a stunned look.

AGATA: "HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"

JUNO: "I didn't, you just confirmed it."

Agata's jaw drops at this. Juno leans forward.

JUNO: "It's not like it was that hard to figure out. I mean, you felines aren't very fond of us canines, so going out of your way to make sure I was alright without someone having asked you felt a little far-fetched."

Juno then looks over his shoulder and calls ut to a corner at the end of the room.

JUNO: "Plus, you forget that I have a very good sense of smell, LOUIS-SENPAI."

After a few seconds, Louis comes out from his hiding place and into plain sight. We see that he is still holding Juno's shoal.

LOUIS: "Agata, could we have some time alone?"

Agata looks back and forth between Louis and Juno.

AGATA: "Sure thing boss- I mean, Louis-sama."

He then gets up and starts to leave while scratching the back of his head. Louis walks over and sits down opposite Juno. It gets really quiet and awkward. Louis extends the shoal over to Juno.

LOUIS: "You left your shoal."

Juno takes the shoal and give him a little nod.

JUNO: "Mm. Thank you."

It gets quiet again. Louis sighs, and then proceed to talk.

LOUIS: (This is what I need to do) "Look, I realize that I was a bit obtuse back there... But I was just trying to tell you how I feel. I can't go over there and try to live up to a lie, it wouldn't be fair to them at this point."

Juno doesn't answer and she is looking down at the table. Louis continues.

LOUIS: "Why do you think I picked Bill as my replacement? He cares for every member. He doesn't judge you for your flaws or your past. He is... A true friend. That is what they deserve, someone true." (It doesn't matter what I want, so confessing it or acknowledging it would make no difference) "You deserve that too."

Juno looks up at him critically.

JUNO: "Did you go after a script with that, or was it just improv?"

Louis looks surprised.

LOUIS: "What?"

Juno shakes her head.

JUNO: "Your acting must've gotten rusty since you graduated. I mean, 'you deserve that too?' You're no Humphrey Bogart, so please spare me the Casablanca."

Lois appears to be a little offended at this.

LOUIS: "That was a low blow."

Juno rolls her eyes.

JUNO: "Oh please! You're mean to me all the time, so just shut up and listen to some criticism for once."

LOUIS: "Look I-"

Juno suddenly stands up and points at Lois with a threatening finger.

JUNO: "I SAID SHUT UP AND LISTEN!"

Louis gets startled at the suddenness of this and shuts up.

JUNO: "Strap yourself in senpai, cause this is the part about you that pisses me off the most: You're an unselfish prick!"

Louis stares at her for the longest time.

LOUIS: "... I am sorry, I think I may have misheard you. Did you call me an 'unselfish prick'?"

JUNO: "Yes."

LOUIS: "Not a selfish prick?"

Juno sits down again.

JUNO: "No, cause if you actually were selfish, you'd do something for yourself every once in a while. Back in the club you did so many good things: being an inspiration, an example and a leader. And yet you always seem to want to distance yourself from the people who look up to you because you think you don't deserve gratitude."

Louis looks bothered by this.

LOUIS: "I am not father who owes responsibility to a bunch of children. They need to be able to figure things out for themselves."

Juno twinges at this. She crosses her arms and sits down.

JUNO: "Take it from me: nobody gets happier when those decisions are made for you, without you. And to be perfectly clear, I am not talking about responsibility here. I am talking about you and your irrational fear of being liked."

LOUIS: "I am not afraid of being liked or disliked, that is not the issue!"

JUNO: "Then what is it? Why do you insist on finding excuses to push people away? Why do you hate us? Why are you so scared of us?"

Louis is starting to look angry now.

LOUIS: "I am not scared...!"

JUNO: "Yes you are! You were willing to throw all of your good deeds under the bus just now so that you wouldn't have to see them again, even shine a light on what a jerk you are. Is that why you don't want to go? Because you wouldn't seem like such a bad guy? That you care about them? That you actually need them-"

Louis pounds his fist on the table and interrupts Juno. The force of his fist knocks over a glass with some bread sticks in in it.

LOUIS: "IF I ADMITTED THAT I NEED THEM THEY WOULD THINK LESS OF ME!"

Juno stares at him with a shocked expression. Louis breathes heavily. Then he looks down, apparently regretful of yelling just now.

LOUIS: ".. You can't call me unselfish, not after what I did., I was selfish when I used the drama club to further my own goals... I thought it was justified because when I became a Beastar, I would do something right for this world and make a difference. But the closer I got to it, the more I realized that the only way to get there was to be even more selfish."

He pulls his hand back and covers it with his other hand. --- LOUIS: "I was asked to look the other way  for the greater good, even as horrible things would happen. I was going to do it too, if I hadn't had some sense knocked into me."  

We see two quick flashbacks: The first is of the corrupt mayor talking to Louis back when Haru was kidnapped, the second is of Legosi punching Louis. --- LOUIS: "If I had continued down that path, I would have probably continued to compromise on my morality more and more until there'd be nothing left... I wouldn't have been able to make any difference if I had become a Beastar that way, I would have just become and errand boy for people whose job is to keep the world as it is, when it could be so much better. That's when I realized that my selfishness too was a weakness."

On the the table, we can see that he is squeezing his hand with his other hand.

LOUIS: "Even if I did want to go over and be a friend, it would just feel like I was just using them to feel better. You know what kind of a person does that? Someone who needs help... A weakling. And I can't be weak. Not to them... Not to you, not to my father, not to anyone."

Louis face gets increasingly hollowed out, as it is haunted by the words he's saying. He squeezes his hand harder as it begins to shake.

LOUIS: "Not even to myself. That's how I've lived for most of my life. Showing it or giving into it would feel like admitting defeat. Even if it was to feel better."

It gets quiet for a few moments. Then, Juno extends her bandaged hand across the table and grabs Louis hand. She removes it from his other, and we now see that he was hiding a bruise on it. Apparently, he hit the table a little too hard just now.

JUNO: "Being selfish isn't always a bad thing. I mean, wasn't it you who said that if it helps those in need, who cares if it's for selfish reasons?"  

Juno caresses Louis hurt hand with her bandaged one. She then grabs it with both her hands.

JUNO: "It's not a weakness. It's give and take situation, and if your needs doesn't get fulfilled, you will run out of things to give."

Louis looks up. Juno looks at him lovingly.

JUNO: "And if you never voice your wants... How will people ever know who you really are?"

Louis eyes widens at this. He looks down, the questions echoing in his mind. He caresses Juno's hurt hand without realizing it.

LOUIS: (Who I really am?)

Louis looks up at Juno again.

LOUIS: "Juno... Who am I to you?"

This question seems to catch Juno a bit off her guard. She straightens up a bit and gives Louis a strict look.

JUNO: "You want my honest opinion?"

Louis gives of an annoyed sigh.

LOUIS: "... Yes, goddammit, I need it."

Letting go of Louis hands, Juno breathes in and then proceeds count up several of Louis flaws using her fingers.

JUNO: "You're a rude snob and a total stick in the mud. You can't relax to save your life, you're condescending and you always think you know what is best. Not to mention being almost completely, emotionally constipated."

Louis looks cartoonishly unamused at these comments.

LOUIS: "..." (Is this a talk-to-talk or just a roast?)

Then Juno pauses, and her facial expression becomes more tender one as she begins to count up Louis greater qualities.

JUNO: "And yet... You are a good person. You're honest, driven and hard-working. You want people to be at their best, to be all that they can be. And for all the misplaced sense of right and all the insults you throw around, not to mention a lack of self-worth, you still care about others."

She quits the counting and looks straight at Louis.

JUNO: "And that is why I love you, warts and all."

Louis looks really touched by this, and avoids looking her straight in the eye.

LOUIS: "I... I don't know what to say."

JUNO: "How about this?"

Juno proceeds to pick up two bread sticks from the table, holding them behind her head and doing a poor impression of Louis.

JUNO: 'I love you too Juno, and to prove that I will come with you to Shima, give you an aroma therapy massage with incense, and put on a tight speedo for your viewing pleasure!'"

Louis at first looks surprised by this. And then he bursts out laughing. Juno puts the bread sticks down, looking a little surprised herself at being able to get a laugh out of Louis.

LOUIS: "You are something else, you know that?"

JUNO: "Something else good, right?"

Louis wipes away a little tear at the corner of his eye.

LOUIS: "Yeah. You're great. And I think I might follow your advice."

Juno looks happy at this, her tail wagging intensely.

JUNO: "Really?"

LOUIS: "Yes... As long as you don't think anyone would mind."

JUNO: "Now why would they do that? They'll be thrilled!"

Juno takes up her shoal and wraps it over her shoulders again.

LOUIS: "I am not wearing a speedo though."

Juno looks comically dissapointed by this.

JUNO: "Awww...!"

Louis then pulls up a cellphone from his breast pocket.

LOUIS: "I suppose we could leave tomorrow. My fathers driver could pick us up right now, and then we could ask him if he could drive us there."

Juno blinks at this.

JUNO: "Who said anything about leaving right now?"

Louis looks up.

LOUIS: "I just assumed..."

Juno stands up, hands on her hips and with a cheeky expression.

JUNO: "What, you think I got all dressed up for nothing? If you think I'm leaving without catching a dance with you, you got to be crazy."

Louis smiles at this and puts his phone back in his pocket.

LOUIS: "Of course. What was I thinking?"

Louis gets up as well. The two proceed to walk away from the table and out of the break room.

LOUIS: "Though you should know, eyes will be on us. Especially after that scene at the dinner table."

JUNO: "I don't mind people staring. But I do feel bad about breaking that glass though. The waiters here seem overworked enough as it is without them having to clean up my mess."

She takes a look at Louis bruised hand.

JUNO: "How is your hand by the way?"

LOUIS: "It's alright. Really, it is."

Juno takes his hand in hers and gives him a flirty look.

JUNO: "So you don't want me to kiss the boo-boo?"

Louis blushes at this.

LOUIS: "No."

Juno laughs at his shy expression.

JUNO: "Well at least we match, damaged hands and all. I guess we're both really bad at keeping our emotions in check when we're together."

Louis mutters in response.

LOUIS: "It's only a natural reaction when you're in such close proximity to what you want the most."

Juno's eyes widen, and she turns to look at Louis. Louis looks mortified as he realizes that he might have thought WAY too loud just now.

JUNO: "What did you say?"

Louis at first looks uncertain. Then he gets a convicted look and grabs Juno by shoulders. He plants a kiss on her lips, surprising her a great deal. At first it looks really romantic, with Juno's surprised eyes melting into one of pleasure. But then all of a sudden, they pop open again in increased size.

JUNO: "ULP!"

Louis is surprised by this reaction, breaks the kiss and backs off. Juno begins to lean on the nearby wall while holding her mouth. She looks like she is about to vomit.

JUNO: "Uuugh...!"

LOUIS: "What? What's the matter?!"

JUNO: "It's not your fault... You had some garlic bread earlier, didn't you? I could taste it..!

Juno, who still looks ill, turns to look at Louis.

JUNO: "I can't stand garlic or onions...! Most canines can't."

Louis sweat drops at this.

LOUIS: (I have bad breath....?)

Looking at this from around the corner is Agata, who has an expression that seems to be a mix between pride and amusement. Next to him is the wolfhound waiter from before, who looks a little uncomfortable. Both are eating from a plate of hor d'oeuvres like it was a bag of potato chips on movie night.  

LOUIS: "Are you going to be alright?"

JUNO: "Don't worry, I just need a glass of water to wash the taste away."

The waiter shakes his head at the scene that just took place.

DOG WAITER: "Rookie mistake."

Meanwhile, we see that there's another one watching from farther away, hiding in the shadows: Georgette. Her beak is open wide and her eyes are nearly popping out of her skull. She can't believe what she just saw.

GEORGETTE: "...!"

TO BE CONTINUED...! ---

[397bartonstreet]

Hey @johnny-and-dora this is for you for the fall fic exchange!! This prompt I wrote for was “autumnal walk in the park” I’m really sorry a pre-series, pre-relationship undercover case is probably not what you asked for but it’s what came to me. Hope you like it!

Also thank you @b99fandomevents for organizing this. These types of things always strike excitement and activity in the fandom during the hiatuses. You guys are awesome!!

About a month ago, Detectives Peralta and Santiago made a huge bust of one of Brooklyn’s most prolific drug rings they’d been investigating since the early summer months. And it was awesome. They smashed into the doors of an abandoned warehouse straight out of an 80’s cop movie. All the men and women inside scattered and refused to go down without a fight, but they were no match for the Nine Nine. There were gunshots, screaming, kicking, punches, all the shebang that make these kinds of events extra epic. They got every single one of those sick, surprisingly attractive bastards. And Jake walked out of that place holding two handcuffed men in slow motion, with an ambient orchestra, an explosion behind him, and wearing sunglasses at night. He looked so cool.

Except they missed one dude. The leader of the drug ring. A fearsome man having hundreds of thousands of dollars to his name, elusive in records, and several deaths on his hands. His name… is Frank Smith.

Jake is still bitter about that.

The day before, Jake got a tip that this Anatole Kuragin (he refuses to call him Frank Smith) would be exchanging information with another dealer in plain sight at Prospect Park in the middle of the day. Jake guesses he understands the logic, no one would expect such a wanted criminal prancing around in daylight. But if he were truly smart, he wouldn’t risk it. And you can never tell if strangers walking through the park are also hiding in plain sight, waiting to catch you in the act and arrest you.

Captain Holt gave the orders for Jake and Amy to disguise as a married couple simply taking their child on a stroll through the park. Which is where they were now. Casually walking through Prospect Park pushing a clunky stroller they found in the precinct and wearing probably the dorkiest outfits Jake has ever worn on a case. He’s dressed like a father in suburbia, not a dope ass detective about to make a dope ass arrest.

“This is the worst. How am I supposed to look cool when I’m wearing a sweater vest and khaki pants?” he grunts toward his partner.

“Jake, this is not about looking cool, it’s about making the arrest and making the community a better place,” Amy says haughtily.

“This is like, the 20th case I’ve done with you and every single time you say something lamer and lamer,” he responds.

“I’m not the one keeping count.” Jake ignores her and instead makes his first survey of the park. They were told that the perp would be wearing a golden chain around his wrist to be easily recognized, but so far he sees no intimidating assholes wearing the friendship bracelet. Everyone here seems to be teenagers totally not smoking pot and families that look just like they do right now. They blend right in.

“The tip said that the exchange would be near the bridge. Let’s casually walk over there and take a ‘break’ on the bench and we’ll wait there,” Jake whispers to her.

“Ooh, it’ll give us time to enjoy the view. New York parks in Fall are the best. Everything is all colorful and beautiful, it’s like one of the only good things about this state,” Amy says. Jake switches his view from the people to the trees. It is beautiful, if he took casual strolls - which, who would want to be alone with their thoughts for that long- this would be the perfect time to do it. It’s picture perfect, with the way the leaves steadily drizzle down like rain, and the cloudy sky seems to bring out their vibrant colors. And the slight chill causing a want for warm drinks and comfy sweaters. It’s romantic, and he almost wants to pretend he’s not here for a case, and instead just take in the view. With his earphones in of course, he meant what he said about being alone with his thoughts.

“It’s a shame we’re working, I’d totally challenge on you who can make a bigger leaf pile,” she says with a smirk and he’s pulled out of his thoughts to cast her something impish.

“Oh, you’re on. We’ll come back tomorrow, I’ll even bring a pumpkin pie because I’m going to cream you,” he smirks. They reach the agreed bench to wait out the perp, and Amy struggles a bit to align the stupid stroller when she sits.

“What? That made literally no sense,” she says as he sits down beside her.

“Of course it does. What do you top pie with? Whipped cream and I’m going to whip you into cream, title of my sex tape.” Amy cringes and he can tell she’s resisting the urge to punch him in the arm.

“That’s disgusting, and if you have to explain the comeback then it wasn’t a good one.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Alright, back to business. You watch this way and I’ll watch that way,” he says and points in the opposite directions. All playfulness immediately leaves Amy’s demeanor and she’s back to being completely professional. It’s one thing Jake can admire about her, she’s incredibly dedicated at her job. She can flip the switch from casual to focused in a second, he can’t even do that.

Jake blinks away his thoughts, turning his attention back to his side. A comfortable silence falls between them, the only noise being Amy rocking the stroller back and forth and her shushing at the doll inside.

He’s trying not to show that he’s definitely staring intently at the man sitting alone on a bench, when he feels a sudden weight on his thigh. He looks down to see Amy’s hand opened expectantly. When he turns to her, she’s still just scouring the scene.

“What?” Jake asks. Amy turns back to him and flexes her hand in gesture.

“Hold my hand,” she says impatiently, as if this is just another everyday bit of police work.

“Hold your hand? For what?” he’s incredulous when he asks this, but he still places his hand on top of hers and Amy grips back.

“Because we’re supposed to be married,” she says.

“Isn’t the giant stroller in front of us indication enough that we’re straight smashing it?” Amy flashes him a glare.

“A stroller only goes so far, we won’t be very convincing if we’re stiff as boards.” She has a point, but of course he’s not going to say that out loud. Instead, he tightens her hand around his and pulls it closer to his lap. Out of instinct, of course, because that’s what couples do.

He can’t help but note that it feels kind of nice, her hand a cold contrast to his warm one. He tends to overheat, even in the Fall weather, and her hand provides some nice relief. He doesn’t dwell on that though, he has a case to solve, and it’s the last time he’ll ever hold Amy Santiago’s hand anyway.

Jake tries squinting as discreetly as possible at the wrists of those in his line of sight, trying to spot the golden chain. There aren’t many men lurking around the park, and none of them seem to be wearing any bracelets. Except for one guy, who has his hands behind his back. Jake keeps an eye on him.

“Are you cold, Patricia? You need mommy to give you another blanket?” Amy says loudly so anyone around them can hear.

“Patricia?” Jake asks.

“What about it, Jake” she groans, bracing herself for a round of teasing.

“That’s what you would name your daughter? Patricia?”

“It’s just the first one that popped into my head okay,” she hisses. “What would you name her?”

“Me? I’d probably name her something badass. Like Rogue, or Rebel,” he says, nodding his head.

“Rogue sounds like the antagonist of an awful racing movie,” she laughs. “If I had a daughter, I would probably want to name her something that’s kind of meaningful and touching. I’ve always thought about naming my daughter Carmen, after my grandmother,” she says.

“Aw, that’s actually really nice. Then I’d call her Caramel. Caramel Carmen. Giving your daughter nicknames is Peak dad.”

“Your daughter? Are we having this baby together,” Amy snorts, a mischievous glint in her eye. She absolutely knows that pointing this out will make him squirm, and Jake hates that she’s right.

“What? No! It’s just… the undercover situation that’s all… stop looking at me like that” he says and doesn’t wait for her reply, just puts his attention back to the mission. Thankfully she doesn’t press, just lets him continue the surveillance. What he sees is lots of people that look like them, but then again not really. There’s at least one parent with a kid around them or pushing a stroller as awkward as theirs. And in the park, with the autumn leaves falling around them, and the kids making piles and kicking at them. They’re real, natural, unlike they are.

He remembers having that with his own mom. Whenever his mom found time and wasn’t working, she would take him to the park. And in the autumn months, he’d do exactly what that little kid with the chocolate curls and Ninja Turtles beanie over there is doing. Shoving pine cones into his pocket and then chucking them into the arm to see how far he can throw them. Looking back to his mother for praise.

If he was a dad, he’d be throwing pine cones with him.

And for a moment, he doesn’t know why, he lets himself imagine what it would be like if this was real. If he was sitting in a New York park during its peak season, with a stroller in front of him holding a baby, a real baby that would be his, that would grow up to be like that little boy over there. The hand he’s holding in his lap would be his wife’s, a woman he actually loved. If it were his wife, he thinks, he wouldn’t just hold her hand, he’d lace their fingers together. He does just that, changing positions to demonstrate how he’d do it. He would also stroke her thumb softly, and he gives the hand he’s holding an experimental caress. He looks up at Amy, who is still rocking the stroller and her eyes still focused on what’s in front of her. If Amy were his wife, he’d playfully tug on that strand of hair that’s gotten loose from her ponytail- he stops. If Amy were his wife?

He blinks several times, pulling himself back to earth and away from whatever just happened. He even shakes his head a little for good measure, to rid of whatever the hell kind of intrusive thought that was. Amy would be the last person in the entire world he’d marry. He’s known her for a year now and the only non work related thing he’s ever heard her talk about was a seminar for perfecting the art of nonverbal communication. Which is like the nerdiest thing he’s heard anyone ever say. If anyone were to be his wife, it would be the hot, flirty, movie ticket seller that’s always giving him eyes.

He looks down at their hands to see that they’re still joined. Not only joined, but laced together. Not only laced together, but his thumb is still slightly caressing hers, and he quickly lets go like he’s burned himself. Amy doesn’t even seem to notice his internal struggle, or acknowledge the way he let go suddenly. She just puts the hand on the handlebar to aid the other.

Well… he guesses Amy is pretty in that pre-makeover nerdy type before the transformation that makes her popular kind of way. Not that he watches those movies.

But not for him, no way. Not Amy. He doesn’t even know why he’s still thinking about this.

“You want to yell at me for being stiff? You look like an animatronic,” he teases, hiding his awkward cough through a laugh.

“Shut up Peralta. I’m just trying to do my job here,” she says. A shiver suddenly wracks her body. “God, I need this guy to hurry up, I’m freezing.”

“Seriously? You’re wearing a scarf and gloves.”

“I get cold easily, leave me alone,” she says, and another shiver chatters her teeth a bit. It makes him feel kind of bad, the only reason they’re out here anyway is because he didn’t go for the ring leader first like he normally would before getting away. The boss is always the biggest collar, and in the excitement he didn’t think. So, before he can think about it too much, he’s shrugging off his leather jacket.

“Here, take this,” he holds it out for her.

“Oh, no, I’m fine man, I’ll just-“

“It’s fine, you wearing my jacket will add to our undercover look and make us less suspicious,” he says with a lowered voice. Amy purses her lips in contemplation for a moment more before taking the jacket and sliding into it, shuffling a little to make sure her badge, gun, and handcuffs are still easily accessible.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice betraying some shyness and embarrassment, she’s about to say something more when something catches her attention, her brows furrowing and lips pursing. “I found the guy. Gold chain on his wrist in plain sight.”

And just like that they’re back in the zone. Two detectives lurking about twenty feet away from the bastard they’ve got their eye on.

“Alright you get left, I’ll get right. Rosa is waiting for us in a black van over there so we have to grab him and take him to the car. Remember, be as quiet about this as possible, we don’t want to scare anyone.” Amy says. Of course with cases like these they can never be too quiet, but the quieter it is, the less panic there will be.

They both stand and walk the stroller towards the perp, Amy going left and him going right like instructed. Away from the bench they were sitting on, and away from the happy children and parents enjoying the daylight. Away from the little boy with the Ninja Turtles beanie that reminds him a little too much of himself. Away from the fathers he’ll probably never be.

And sure, maybe he won’t ever be a father, or have a wife to have autumnal strolls with. But right now he’s got what he does best. And he gets to do it right now, take down a badass crime boss in… maybe not the most badass outfit. You win some you lose some.

Being a detective is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s totally good with that.

He really is.

He swears.

[ginnyzero]

Main Character or Group of Characters

Single protagonist vs. ensemble writing

When trying to sell a story or summarize a book, a question I get asked a lot is “who is the main character?” For me, when trying to sell the Lone Prospect this is more difficult to answer than you think. The titular main character would be Gideon, the Lone Prospect. But, he’s not really the main character, he’s an important character. He's one character in the pack that is hiding in plain sight as a motorcycle club. There are other important characters too. Brand, the President, is an important character. Savannah, the Vice President, is an important character. So, they could be classified as main characters too. Because there is more than one way to write as story. There are single person stories and then there are ensemble stories.

Single person stories are the stories that most book readers are familiar with. Anne of Green Gables, The Hobbit, The Dresden Files, The Hollows, Harry Potter. Those stories are stories about one particular person. In movies, spy movies tend to be single person narratives, James Bond, Jason Bourne, the Taken films. The story is focused on their life and their adventure. The pitfall of single person narratives is that the main character has to become everything. They are the hero, the savior, the pinnacle, they are the driving force behind either saving the world or destroying it. Unless you’re writing say a romance series where your main character changes every book, in speculative fiction the main character of the story often becomes larger than life with a very drama filled life. They have to be special in some way in the minds of most authors in order to keep the reader interested. (There is a point to this, if the character wasn’t special in some way why would we read them but so many authors go over the top with this. The female is chased by four different men, her blood is special, she has special powers, she’s descended from some deity and so on and so forth ad nauseam.)

Ensemble stories in some cases are just as well-known but not really praised for what they are. Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, X-Wing Novels, Anne Bishop’s The Black Jewels. Ensembles are stories about groups of people. A lot of ensemble writing has gone to television where having a large group of people can be shown better. Seinfeld, Buffy, Firefly, Sons of Anarchy, almost all forensic style crime shows, Blue Bloods, Gilligan’s Island, MASH, Star Trek. Movies also get into ensemble writing, The Avengers, X-Men, Lord of the Rings again. (Which revived the ever popular argument about who is the main character of Lord of the Rings. I argue having a main character is not the point.) Heist movies tend to be ensemble movies, The Italian Job, Ocean’s Eleven, St. Trinian’s, Sugar & Spice. In ensemble writing, there are important characters and at different times during different parts of the story, some characters are more important than others. The pitfall of ensemble writing is that there can be too many characters and the reader/watcher can’t focus on any of them or can’t tell them apart. (Always bad.)

There are also buddy stories, Rizzoli and Isles, Rush Hour and any other buddy cop movie, Thelma and Louise, These stories are focused on a pair of characters and their interactions.

Writing an ensemble story and writing a single protagonist story are extremely different. They require different modes of thought at times. When I write a story and it doesn’t feel to be working as a single protagonist story, I have to ask myself some questions. What story am I really trying to tell? What am I trying to convey to the reader? Who are the important people to this story? What is my theme? Can that story, can that theme be told with a single character? Or do I need to broaden my scope and embrace the stories of the other characters? At some point, I sit there and go “Well, I can’t be everything. So, let’s focus on this story for now and work on adding more to it later.” Or else I’m going to be overwhelmed and the reader is going to be overwhelmed. But by answering these questions, I can get a feel for if I need to stick with one character or if I need to make a group. Or even write the group I have without worry about trying to stick to third person limited omniscient point of view.

It can and does start with the point of view. A lot of single protagonist stories in modern speculative fiction (urban fantasy) are in first person. Thus narrowing the viewpoint of the reader even further with unreliable narrators. Writing an ensemble story in first person requires having character chapters or even character scenes. Sometimes this happens even if the story is written in third person. George R. R. Martin and Anne Bishop do this. Ensemble stories tend to be written more in third person especially if they are not using individual character chapters. Ensemble stories will have different character arcs against an overall plot arc and the scenes of these character arcs are put juxtaposition to each other to further the overall story. So, while there are two characters doing one thing, another set of characters are doing another thing possibly at the same time and all of it pushes forward the overall plot. The Star Wars Classic EU X-Wing novels are really good at this. I recommend the Wraith Squadron arc over the "this is actually a story about Corran Horn" Rogue Squadron arc.

In an ensemble story, if the author wants to show another part or facet of their universe, they can spread it across to a different character, create another character arc that may or may not effect one of the other important characters. And in an ensemble story, that’s okay, you can get away with it. But in a single person story, if it doesn’t affect the main character, then it probably won’t be shown unless the author ties the story into knots to show it. Anne Bishop's Stories of The Others is this way, it started out as a single protagonist story about Meg, and by the fourth book had to twist itself into knots as an 'ensemble' story to show what was going on in the war of humans versus the others. It didn't work well because these characters hadn't been set up back in book one and so, as a reader, I didn't care about them enough.

A lot of times it comes down to a preference or even what the author is trying to convey. What is the story? What is the theme? Look no further than the Hobbit versus Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit was a tale focused on Bilbo and an adventure he took to the Lonely Mountain and how he found the ring. Sure, there were dwarves and a wizard with him, but the story didn’t focus on them very much. It was Bilbo’s journey. But in the Lord of the Rings, it wasn’t just Frodo’s journey. It was Aragorn’s journey. It was Gimli’s journey. It was Legolas’ journey. It was even Gollum’s journey. The journey, the story, was bigger than just one person. The fate of the world rested with a group and Frodo could never do it alone. The tones of the two stories were different. The themes were different. The purposes were different. The audiences were different.

I’m not saying one is better than the other. They are both very valid methods of storytelling. They are tools in a writer’s tool kit. And the choice of to use a single main character or a group comes down to what serves your story better. Choose wisely.

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