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madaboutmunson · 1 year ago

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Black Denim Trousers & Motorcycle Boots (Sweet Home Chicago Series - Part 2)

Summary for overview of the whole fic can be found here

For @eddiemonth

Week 2 prompts used: Times Like These - Foo FIghters, Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi, Determined, Adventurous, Soulmates, Monsters, Come As You Are - Nirvana

Warnings: None that I could think of, but let me know if you feel any should be added, and I'll do that straight away :)

Romance/Fluff Word Count : 9.6K

Ao3 Link

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Eddie wakes with a start. An uncomfortable stiffness in his back and a numbness in his arms make themselves known quickly as a coffee mug appears in his view.

“Morning, sweetheart. I wasn’t gonna come in, but you didn’t answer, and I got a little worried,” she sits on the corner of his desk and starts picking up some of the pieces of paper that he can now see are littered all around him, “But when I saw you fast asleep on your desk, I thought I better wake you up. I know you don’t like to be late.” She smiles at him a little knowingly. He knows she can tell. He just hasn’t been brave enough to say it outright yet, and to her credit, she hasn't pushed. But he knows how obvious it is that he loves spending his days at the grocery store. He knows when they are both finally home, and she asks how his day was, he would try in vain to be calm and quiet about it, “Yeah, was good. Got a lot done.” But she’d wait a while to see if any further information would come her way before asking, “Was Steve there today?” that would just start the lengthy gushing about every little thing Steve did that day. It felt fine when he was in the midst of it, but as soon as he paused, he’d feel embarrassed, sometimes guilty. It was customary to be enthusiastic about friends, right? Especially new ones.

Eddie knew that wasn’t why, and he got the sneaking suspicion his mama knew that too. He just wasn’t ready to have that conversation. He hasn’t been prepared to have that conversation since Wayne caught him with the huge A Streetcar Named Desire movie poster that Eddie had broken into the local cinema to retrieve for his own after learning that most movie posters just got plunged into storage, overhearing one of the ushers in the malt shop. He’d enacted the escapade alone for fear his fellow gang members wouldn't buy the fact that he wanted it for Vivienne Leigh, as he’d never mentioned her before. In hindsight, they probably would have just believed him if he’d told them he’d done it because he could because that's what he did back then. He didn’t need a rhyme or reason to rebel; he just did it to feel something he had control over.

And if Eddie hadn’t had Little Richard blasting out of his record player, if Eddie had remembered to just lock his door, or even if Eddie had just been listening the night before when Wayne had said he was going to be back earlier than usual, because a bunch of jobs got cancelled, then maybe, just maybe Wayne wouldn't have walked in on him running his fingers over the man on the poster. Eddie had tried to bolt, but Wayne had grabbed hold of him and sat him down, asked him to explain, and Eddie had lied. He’d told him he just wanted to be like him, that it was no different to the cowboys he used to draw or cut out of the paper and stick to his wall.

Wayne, god love him, hadn’t got mad, just blinked a few times and apologised for grabbing his arm. Asked if he was okay, “You never need to run from me, son. Not for anythin’.” And because he had no reason not to, he took Wayne at his word, but that moment plagued him for longer and much more profoundly than he cared to admit. As if to play into his lie, he decided to embody a version of Brando. The Wild One.

He’d worked hard alongside Wayne until he’d saved up enough for an old beat-up motorcycle that he slaved away to fix up. He practically begged Wayne for a new pair of 501s and scoured the thrift shops for old biker jackets, but ended up finding one when scouring a barn for parts with Wayne one day. It was a little big, but Eddie didn’t mind. Got himself a used pair of black boots, one of his Grandpa’s old belts and a hat, and he looked the part. And whatever Eddie did, his little minions followed.

But that wasn’t enough for Eddie. He didn’t just want to look like Johnny. He wanted to become him.

It was easy to act cool when people were scared of you and your gang, and it was easy to kiss girls and make them cry when you were never into them in the first place. That's the thing about rebelling in a small town. Quickly, you run out of things to fight against, and soon, much to Wayne’s displeasure, Eddie had the town almost bending to his will, sometimes through charm but primarily by fear. Guys wanted to be him, and girls wanted to be with him, and that was great when it was impressing your friends, but it didn’t mean anything to him when he lay in bed at the end of the day. Somewhere along the way, this lonesome cowboy on his steel horse lost his north star. He wasn’t the hero taking on a stuffy old town that kept its youth down. He had become the villain. And as always with these sorts of things, he quite quickly became the scapegoat for anything that went wrong in that place.

As he sits up, a piece of paper joins him on the journey to being upright, and he peels it away from where it is stuck to the side of his face.

He tries to remember what he had been working on last night as his mama sips her coffee, and her vibrant eyes move over each page as she picks them up. Then it hits him, and he frantically tries gathering up the papers around him.

“Eddie! What's gotten into you?” She laughs and holds the paper away from him, “These are really good. Why are you hiding them?”

“Well, uh, well…because they aren't finished. Yeah, they aren't finished,”. He lies quickly, and his mama’s piercing green eyes narrow at him and stare directly into his own.

She hands him back the sketch in her hand, “I just like seeing what you’re working on. It doesn't need to be perfect. I’ll leave you to it.” Eddie’s heart races in his chest as he nervously turns over the piece of paper his mom had been looking at and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it is a drawing of the hero for his book. A knight who had no name or story yet, but one thing was for sure. He was a hero, a real one. One that wouldn’t lose his way. Perfect in poise and noble in deed.

Eddie shuffles through the other pages.

The knight changes from armour and brandishing a sword to being dressed in peasant clothes that hug his sculpted body and holding an apple.

A page or two later, and all the false premise is stripped away.

Soft eyes that, even when narrowed by the sunlight, still look kind. The long lashes splay out elegantly, which he’s taken a little artistic licence with because he still hasn’t gotten over them since the first day he met Steve. His fingers trace along the slight crease at the corner of one of the sketched eyes, and soon he’s moving from beauty mark to freckle and back and down until he meets that handsome jawline, moves through the stubble that frustratingly can’t be felt. Only urging his fingers to tentatively brush over the lips that only ever spill gentle words to him.

“Eddie!” His mom calls out, and he nearly falls out of his chair due to being alarmed out of his daydream. He quickly shuffles all the papers together and shoves them in his drawer. “You want some eggs, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Mama, that’d be great!” he calls back, breathlessly clutching his chest.

Eddie shakes his head and drops his head into his hands. He felt awful. Steve and his mom hadn’t shown him anything but kindness since he got here, and here he was, having these thoughts about Steve. He imagines how horrified they would be if they found out. These thoughts were wrong. He knew that. He just couldn't seem to keep them under control.

Nothing he had read about this kind of attraction made it seem like an accepted ailment or condition. It was something you had to pray or force out of a person. If Eddie had been sick with anything else, he’d go to a doctor, but wasn’t it still illegal? He guessed it didn’t have to be unlawful for the public to take matters into their own hands. Not that he’d ever acted on any of it. Almost a few times, but nothing more than a lingering touch or something that felt like a kiss was on the horizon, but the sun never rose on those opportunities. Just an expanse of unknowns shrouded in shadow.

But as he sits there, he recalls how his dad spoke about Eddie being made out of pure love. So, no matter what layers he or the world draped him in at his core, that’s what he’d always be. A walking, talking personification of love. If that were true, how could anything he felt be so terrible? It would be fine if it was a girl, right? But the fact remained that the world said it was wrong, whether he understood why it thought that or not.

He knows that’s why his mama uses sweetheart above all other terms of affection for him. He remembers how she would say his smile could light up the darkest room and how his scowls only deprived the world of what it needed most in hard times. It was a dramatic statement, but he clung to it when he struggled with these things, like a scraggly worn scrap of a comfort blanket that reminds him that at his centre, he’s good.

He also knows that’s why Wayne didn't berate his bad behaviour when he confronted him about his slightly more-than-friendships with girls. Wayne explained that if something wasn’t for him, he should leave it alone. Eddie had made his point that he could get all the girls he wanted, but he didn’t have to continue to leave broken hearts in his wake any more. To begin with, he thought it was just that, a confrontation to address another tearful girl that Eddie had led on because she found him flirting with another girl the next day. But throughout the discussion, Wayne gently prised open his rebel armour at its weakest points with careful questions and sympathy.

The way he’d started that conversation stone-faced and defensive and ended up a tearful confessing mess against Wayne’s shoulder never failed to make him get choked up when he recalled it. There was no punishment, no lecture, just flannel-wrapped arms holding him tight. Rough, hard-working hands brushing over his hair and kisses on his head between words of reassurance and relief.

Eddie did tone his behaviour down from then on like the confession had freed him of a constant irritation that had been lingering just out of reach for years, but it was far too late. Hawkins had made up its mind, and that might have been his first forced step towards Chicago.

He could start over here. He could leave that old life behind and learn how to live all over again, even if that included learning to hide some aspects of himself. Maybe his dad was just wrong. Perhaps regardless of his parents, he was resigned to a life alone. Would that really be so bad? If he couldn’t love a girl non-platonically, he could aim for something else, couldn’t he? If he could be successful professionally and keep himself safe? That could be more than enough. He could morph attraction into just an appreciation of beauty. He could do this. He could change his stars.

With a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, he pushes down the self-loathing and love worries and starts his day over.

The rest of his morning is terrific. Being up early with his mama means he’s too early for the goons on the stairs. He strolls down by the river until the school kids dwindle and then heads to the grocery store. And just like every morning, rain or shine, the canopy is extended, and his personal table is already set up against the window. Steve’s handsome face greets him within moments, offering him espresso and a heart-stopping smile. He accepts both gladly, and though today seems busier than usual, Steve still takes his smoke breaks with Eddie. Flicks through his notes and drawings, but one element was missing today, and Steve’s adorably creased brow isn’t happy about it.

Steve grips either side of the table and wiggles it. Looks to face the same way as Eddie and looks around confused. Then, finally, he looks above him and back to Eddie, “Everthin’ alright for ya today, Ed?”

“Yeah, just perfect,” Eddie beams back at him. Because it is. Everything is perfect when Steve’s around because he eclipses everything else.

The curious look doesn't leave his face as he leans back in his chair to light a cigarette and leans one elbow on the backrest of it, “You feelin’ ok?”

“Oh yeah, the best,” he replies enthusiastically because that was true, too. When he had Steve’s attention, he felt he must be the most special person on the planet.

“ ‘Den, what's goin’ on here?” he waves the hand holding his smoke over the sketches strewn across the table. Eddie looks down at the table as if to check for anything incriminating, but there isn’t anything.

“You don’t like them?” Eddie asks tentatively.

“Oh, uh, I like ‘em plenty, just, uh,” Steve’s honey-brown eyes scan the table again before flicking back up to Eddie’s, “Well, where is he?”

“Well, he’s right…” Eddie shuffles through the sketches. He finds various fruits and their arrangements, coffee cups, an empty version of the chair opposite him, a few trees and a sunset, “Oh,” he says, looking back up at Steve. The realisation the character he’d been working on, the knight, was nowhere to be seen in word or picture.

“You homesick?” Steve asks compassionately

“No, I don’t think so,” Eddie answers genuinely because whilst he does miss Wayne, he does not miss Hawkins.

Steve hums, looks over the pictures again, “Say, uh, did you try one-a da cannoli we send home for your ma, sometimes?” The change in subject is odd to Eddie, but he’s glad of it.

“God, yeah!” Eddie replies quickly, eyes widening at Steve, “I was trying to describe them to my uncle, but I had no idea how because I’d never eaten anything like ‘em. The best I could come up with was it's like a pie tube, with the creamiest sweet filling and candied peel that cuts right through and balances it just perfectly, but, uh, needless to say, he just laughed at me. But when he visits, I’ll make sure to buy him one. Where do you get those from anyway?” Eddie finally takes a breath after enthusing over the delicious pastries that Steve or his mom occasionally put in with his shopping.

Steve smiles hugely, “I know-a-guy,” he takes another drag on his cigarette, “Anyways, you don’t like dis knight no more? Is dat it?”

Eddie shrugs, “I dunno. I guess, um, he’s just not inspiring me today?” he awkwardly smiles at Steve, whose mouth downturns a little, but he nods.

“Oh, did he do sumthin’ wrong…in da story?” Steve asks as he stubs out his smoke, not looking at Eddie.

“No, it's not like that. It’s kinda like, somedays I get up, and all I can think about is the story and everything the knight is, was and could be, and on those days, I can write about him or draw him for hours. But then, some days, he’s just not there. Or he is, but I just don't wanna write or draw about it, you know? It’s just inspiration. Sometimes, you arrange the oranges in a pyramid and decorate the table, right? With grapes and whatever those things are, and some days, you just put the crates out. A spark of creativity,” Eddie overexplains and feels a little embarrassed, revealing something that must sound utterly ridiculous to Steve, who works hard every day regardless of how he feels. He does it because he has to, for his family.

Steve tilts his head, looking Eddie over, probably trying to figure out why he said such strange things or got so animated about them. A small smile reappears, “Figs,” he says finally.

“Figs?” Eddie asks, one of his hands gripping tightly around the side of the chair seat, fearing he might float away straight up to cloud nine if Steve keeps looking at him like that.

“Yeah, next to the grapes,” he points over to one of the odd-shaped things and looks back at Eddie, “Figs,” He repeats, and picks one up and cleans it on his shirt.

The fruit looks a lot smaller in his hands. As he holds it between them, tearing it open easily, he offers half to Eddie, who shakes his head, “Oh, no thank you. I’m good.” It's a strange thing, purple on the outside and on the inside a halo of yellow around a red fleshy centre.

“I ain’t steered ya wrong so far,” Steve says simply, putting one-half of it midway between them on the table. He smiles at Eddie and turns his attention onto the street, raising the fruit to his mouth.

Until this moment, Eddie didn't really know why the story of Adam and Eve didn't sit right with him. Sure, he hadn’t read it in-depth, just vaguely remembered it. Sure, it was a story to explain creation because, at the time, they probably had no other reasons as to why humans were on this planet. But the thing that always bugged him was that they apparently used fig leaves to cover themselves up when their innocence was lost after Eve took a bite of an apple, so surely the nearest tree would have been an apple tree. But as Steve's full lips push against the skin of the fruit he’s flipped inside out, a droplet of juice spills out of the corner of his mouth and races towards his elegant jawline. Eddie realises that maybe something had been lost in translation, and perhaps Eve had bitten into a fig, just like this, because nothing so far in his existence has been this tempting or felt so forbidden, as he watches Steve bite into the fruit to consume it. Desperate for the knowledge of how it might feel to have his lips right where the fig is. He realises he’s staring at his mouth, but as he flicks his eyes up, Steve doesn't appear to have noticed, thankfully. To prevent himself from openly drooling, he picks up the fruit and copies how Steve ate his half, even looking out onto the street to avert his eyes. Though he’s absolutely sure he doesn’t look anywhere near as good as Steve looked doing it. Due to concentrating heavily on trying to compose himself, the sweetness and flavour take him completely by surprise. He makes an involuntary, pleased noise and eats the whole thing.

“Told ya,” A voice softly says in his ear, and he jolts with surprise, only to find Steve leaning across the table into his space. They laugh at Eddie’s over-the-top reaction, “You know it’s said figs are food of da gods. Maybe you’ll feel like writin’ again soon enough, huh?”

Eddie can only smile as his stomach somersaulting like a circus act prevents him from forming a coherent response. Because all his brain wants him to do right now has very little to do with writing or drawing.

His pulse is almost rumbling in his ears, at least that's what he thinks it is initially, until the noise becomes clearer, and the butterflies in Eddie’s stomach vanish and are replaced with a plummeting feeling when he recognises the noise.

Motorcycles.

Eddie thinks his past has caught up with him. He knew someone would come looking for him eventually, for a fire he didn't even start. He frantically goes to gather his things, but Steve’s hand is on his shoulder, and Eddie can’t look. Was this what this was? Had he befriended Eddie to keep him in place for that motorcycle gang?

“Hey, easy, buddy. Dese are just my friends. They ain’t bad,” Steve smiles reassuringly, “Dere hygiene and sense-a humor maybe.” Steve’s hand on his shoulder radiates a soothing warmth, almost like a sedative spreading through him from the point of contact, “No more espresso for yous today, huh?” Steve laughs light and melodic, and Eddie finally smiles back.

“Sorry,” Eddie says awkwardly.

“ ‘S ok, buddy. I get it. Remember, you’re safe here, yeah? I-we won’t let anything happen to ya. Promise,” Steve says with such an earnest expression that Eddie can only believe him. He turns his attention to the bikes pulling up, and stands to greet them.

The four guys are dressed in Eddie’s old day-to-day uniform. Leather motorcycle jackets, black boots, jeans. An odd bunch, he thinks. The first guy, who looks like the leader, has the most confident strut, pulls up first and is walking ahead of the rest, his hair in a jelly roll style. To Eddie's surprise, just to his left is an African-American guy with a dimple on his upper cheek as he laughs at one of the others stumbling with their kickstand. His hair was in a pompadour style, cut in that style rather than straightened and styled. Next is a tallish, thin guy with small features. His sandy blond hair is cut in a similar style to Steve’s but a little longer and unruly, and last of all, a Latino-looking guy with the longest braided hair Eddie thinks he’s ever seen on anyone.

The one at the front runs up to tackle Steve, and then all except the sandy blond pile in also, and all four of them end up falling into one of the displays, as Steve laughs along with them, grabbing the little one in a headlock.

“Shit, Steve, not my hair!” he yells.

“Aw, come on, Gaz, doesn’t matter how good your hair looks, you’re always gonna have dat little chipmunk face of yours,” Steve laughs but lets him go.

Eddie feels someone looking at him and turns to find the slender guy staring at him. As Eddie averts his eyes, he notices his name painted in beautiful cursive on his jacket. Jonny. There was a time when Eddie would have stared right back at him, but not this new Eddie. Not his second-chance version of himself.

Steve eventually prises himself from the others and walks over to shake Jonny’s hand, “Good to see ya, Jon,” he says, but the only reply he gets is a silent nod before walking around the table to stand next to Eddie.

“Alright, ya bunch of assholes, calm down. Dis is Ed. He’s new round here,” Steve looks and smiles at him, and Eddie returns it and gives a weak wave to the others.

“Hi,” is all he can think to say before turning back to the street, “Nice wheels,” he says.

“Thanks, man,” says the one with the long braid, who picks up an apple from the stall and bites into it.

The little one steps forward and thrusts a hand out to Eddie, “I’m Gareth, that’s Jeff, Argyle and Jon, but most people know us by Hellfire. The Hellfire Motorcycle Club.” he says proudly, turning to show the painting on the back of his jacket of some kind of devil with a long forked tongue, surrounded by flames. Eddie nods at each of them in turn.

“So where you from then?” Jonny asks.

“Indiana,” Eddie answers with a smile.

“And you came to the windy city because….” Argyle asks, taking another bite out of his apple.

“I, uh,” Eddie glances at Steve, who gives him the slightest nod and smile, “I wanted to write,”

“What, you can’t write back home?” Jeff laughs, “What happened? They take away all the stationery in Indiana?”

Eddie laughs, “Uh, no. I mean, I want to be a writer, and I thought coming here would be more inspiring, you know?”

“How much does that pay then? Writin’?” Gareth says, curious as he picks up one of Eddie's drawings off the table, pulls an impressed face at it, and shrugs, passing it to Jeff.

“Oh, I dunno, honestly,”

“Doesn’t sound very secure,” Jeff frowns and passes the drawing to Argyle.

“What if you don't make it as a writer? You got a backup?” Argyle asks.

“I honestly haven't thought-”

“Got your own place?” Jeff asks quickly

“No, I live with my-”

“Hmmm, yeah, haven't thought about it, got it,” Johnny says, “You from a big family? You Italian?”

“No, and No, but-”

There is a collective groan from the motorcycle club.

“So whatcha sayin’ is you ain't gotta job or income or your own place, and you ain't even Italian?” Gareth laughs.

“Is that- Is that bad?” Eddie looks instinctively at Steve for reassurance due to the barrage of questions he is facing.

“But what are your views on fruit on pizza?” Argyle asks

“I don’t really eat a lot of-”

“You got a ride?” Eddie snaps his head to Gareth again and shakes his head.

“A girl?” Jeff asks as Eddie's head whips around to him, and he indicates negatively again.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, you shitbirds. That’s enough,” Steve shouts, and they fall to silence as he turns to Eddie, “ ‘Scuse us for a sec, Ed” he says apologetically, and the gang follow him inside.

Eddie decides to give them a wide berth and looks at something comforting. The motorcycles themselves. God, that was an absolute embarrassment. He could have been much cooler about it, especially with Steve there. Oh well. Eddie looks over briefly and can see them in the window in an intense discussion.

Gareth has a virtually brand new Honda Dream C71, two of them have different year versions of the BSA Bantam, and last of all, someone has his old bike, a 1950 Thunderbird. This one wasn’t customised to look like the one out of the movie like he’d done with his own, but there had been, what looked like, some abandoned attempts. He reaches out, runs his fingers along the gleaming paintwork, and quickly retracts them, remembering how touchy he’d been if anyone even looked at his bike for too long. Whoever this one belonged to took excellent care of it.

The bell ringing over the door gets him to his feet before anyone can startle him. Steve waves him over, “Ed, come ‘ere, da guys have somethin’ to say,” Eddie swallows nervously but tries to put on a slight air of confidence and smiles at them all.

Gareth tilts his head at Eddie, “So, we’s just wanted t’ say, we didn’t mean to make yous feel uncomfortable, OK? You’re just new, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. No issues here,” he puts up his hands and takes a breath, “I was just looking at your bikes. They’re real neat.” He offers the verbal olive branch of changing the subject.

“You like motorcycles?” Steve asks a little oddly. He sort of sounds a little disappointed.

Eddie lies quickly, “I mean, my friend back home used to let me ride on the back of his sometimes. So I think they’re neat, is all.” Eddie cringes at his overuse of the word neat, like some little kid.

“He did?” Steve almost sounds slightly annoyed, but Eddie can’t determine why. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say.

“And this friend of yours,” Gareth says, tearing his eyes from Steve to land on Eddie, “You still talk to him?”

Shit, what if they think he was involved in some rival gang or something, “No, we lost touch a little while before I decided I wanted to move here.” Eddie, desperate to ease the tension he seems to have created, smiles around the group, “Just different life paths, you know. It goes that way sometimes.” Steve returns his smile, and Eddie's heart almost packs its bags to move into Steve’s hands immediately.

“Also, sorry ‘bout that comment earlier regarding’ your job. Guys like us are happy with our feet on the ground, you know, and I forget sometimes the world needs people to shoot for the moon,” Gareth offers him a shrug of a smile, and he does seem genuine in his apology, but the way Steve nods at his friend, makes him think that maybe Steve had jumped to his defence in the store, and Eddie tries desperately not to grin wildly at that thought.

Steve's eyes cast up for a moment in thought and then move towards the ground before he checks his watch, “I’m sure I could borrow some wheels if you ever miss it,” Steve shrugs, lighting a cigarette, and all four heads of his friends snap to his words, “Ain’t dat right Jonny boy?”

“Yeah, course, Steve, she’s yours anyway,” Johnny quietly agrees.

“No, no. None a dat. It’d just be for today or whateva,” Steve smiles at Johnny and then Eddie, “Unless you got plans?”

“No, not at all. That’d be great. I’ll leave a note for Ma-my mom and be right back.” Eddie says excitedly and packs up his things.

“Hey Arg, can I ask you somethin’?” He hears Steve ask, and the five of them disappear into the store as he walks back to his apartment.

Thankfully, the coast looks clear, so he heads inside, leaves a cute note for his mama, and is about to leave again when he pauses and goes to the bathroom cabinet. Score! There was some cologne in here. As he picks it up, a piece of note paper falls out. He picks it up to put it back and notices it’s yellowing. His curiosity gets the better of him, so he opens it.

For my soulmate:

The most beautiful star in the world

Take me in your arms

Lead me in my dreams again

I'll sell my soul for it.

What is it worth?

Only you know

Eddie quickly folds it back up, feeling a little embarrassed. It was probably something private of his mama’s.

He adds a few extra pins to his hat to keep it from flying clean off and grabs a warmer jacket.

As he leaves the building, a set of familiar voices make him sigh in exasperation.

“This ain’t Hellfire’s place, Jonny. So why don’t you just go back to riding Steve’s coattails, huh?” Billy snides.

“I don’t know how many times we gotta tell you three morons to leave people alone around here. And for your information, this building is the concern of Hellfire now. So what you wanna do is turn around and go and crawl back into the dumpster the three of you ghouls crawled out of,” Jon fires back, and inside, Eddie has to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Oh yeah, and what if we don’t care about Hellfire’s new rules from its new asshole of a leader?” Tommy seethes.

“Well, how can I put this? If you don’t, the matter is gonna get escalated, and then it’s gonna be out of our hands. So I suggest you just run along now, so no one has to get hurt,” Jon says calmly.

“Oh, I see how it is. You're recruiting this new guy, are ya?” Jason asks spitefully, but Jon just laughs in response.

“Well, you should know, he’s a fucking creep. Was sitting here drawing pictures of Nance and the two Harrington girls,” Billy offers, and Eddie feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh, was he?” Jon says, sounding almost intrigued.

“Sure was, bold as anything, ogling them,” Billy continues, and Eddie can almost see the sly grin on his face. He should just step out there before this gets worse.

“Thing is William. I actually have conversations with my girlfriend and actually have friends. So when Nancy told me about your performance here, she said Rob and Max told her he’d ended up at the store. I called Steve. And guess what, guys,” he says with sarcastic surprise, “He was just drawing the surroundings and saw them first. I’ve seen it, it’s terrific actually. Steve’s Ma has it hung up already, and most importantly, Nancy and the girls never had a problem with him. They, as per usual, just wanted to get away from you,” Eddie hears the venom in Jon’s voice and the rustle of his leather jacket, and he knows that shift in stance, so he steps outside to interrupt.

“Oh, hey, Jonny,” he smiles at Jon, which seems to defuse the situation. He turns to the others with a smile, nods, and walks down the stairs, “Gentlemen.”

As he and Jonny reach the bottom of the stairs, Billy calls out, “Nice to see you still resting on Steve’s hand-me-downs, Jon. First a jacket, then a bike, and then his girl. What next?” Billy and his goons laugh together.

And something about the judgement entirely rubs Eddie the wrong way, and he turns on his heel to face the three of them to say something. But then there is a hand on his shoulder, and Jonny calmly smiles, “Ooooh William, time to get some new material, maybe? You’ve been tellin’ the same joke for years now, and no one with more than one brain cell of their own has ever laughed at it. Come on, Ed. Let’s go,” he says, and they walk back to the store.

Once they are far enough away, Eddie dares ask, “You ok?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat those guys. They bark a lot, but only one has got any bite,” Jon stops before they get to the store, “Just try your best to ignore them, ok? Steve’s Ma don’t like ‘em anyway, and if you end up in a tussle with them, so will Steve, and then well…things will get escalated,” Jon looks at him seriously, “Steve’s a good guy. We don’t want him getting into any trouble, capiche?”

Eddie looks puzzled at him.

“Understand?” Jon tries again, and Eddie nods, “Also, what he said was true. Steve did give me his jacket and old motorcycle, but Nancy, that’s different. They were together but not, you know?” Jon says, and Eddie nods like he understands, but he doesn’t at all, not that it matters. “Anyway, you been enjoying your days at Heartbreak Hotel?” Jonny chuckles, and Eddie screws up his face in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Jon starts but reads the puzzled look on Eddie’s face quickly enough, “The constant stream of pretty girls that keep coming to the store for Steve but just end up leaving with groceries they probably didn’t need?” he laughs.

Eddie shakes his head, “I noticed it was busier today, but I was drawing, so I didn’t register who or anything.”

“Huh,” Jon half-smiles at him and looks him over, “Didn’t look up from your drawings all day?”

“Oh sure, when Steve was on his break,” Eddie says, understanding what he means now.

“But the rest of the time, not one single girl caught your eye?” Jon questions and Eddie begins to see how weird this might seem.

He fakes a laugh, “I just mean, I didn’t really engage with anyone else other than a glance. Number one, I didn’t really come here to date. It's not like I have much luck in that department, anyway. Chances are, if I make the whole writer thing, I stand a better chance, right? If I got tied down now, I’d have to get a job that paid me actual money for bills and dates instead of living off savings. My writing wouldn’t get a look in. And number two, drawing and looking at people only leads to trouble, or at least that’s what I’ve learned the last few weeks,” he pauses, “I’d really like to get the chance to apologise and explain to Nancy, Rob and Max sometime. Just so they know I’m not a creep.”

Jon puts his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him into his side, “You know Ed, I get the feeling you’re gonna get that chance,” Eddie is a bit weirded out by the physicality, but he doesn’t mind it. Jon lights up something that smells familiar to Eddie, but it’s not a cigarette, “If it’s any consolation, what I said was true. The girls didn’t move because of you. Nancy is pretty observant, so if she had felt threatened by you looking at them, she would have moved them all on someplace else.” He adds as they walk to the outside of the store.

The bell above the door rings as they step in front of it, and Steve skips a step or two on his way out and looks between him and Jonny, “You sure made friends fast,” Steve says with a huff of a laugh.

“He’s just a likeable guy, Steve,” Johnny says, giving Eddie a pat on the back.

“He is, ain’t he?” Steve says kindly, half-smiles and then quickly looks at the bike, “Ready, Ed?”

“Yeah, yeah. Absolutely,” Eddie claps his hands together and is glad for this moment of waiting for Steve to get situated on the bike first because Steve looks gorgeous. That is just the facts. He’s beautiful and kind, and that is more than enough. But he’s looking exceedingly handsome right now. He’s traded his regular footwear for some engineer-type boots, and his hair is combed back into a place a little more, but the jacket is really causing Eddie a problem. It was style-wise just an ordinary leather biker jacket. Except this one was a mid-brown colour that seemed to make the colour of his eyes even more entrancing somehow. Like they were no longer merely functional parts of a human being but impossible, magical orbs that might turn him completely to stone if he looked directly into them. The leather is well-worn but not damaged, just lots of lines of use. The stitching is elegant, and he’s flicked his collar up against the cold. As he sits on the bike, he fusses with it.

“Guess I’m not as small as I used to be,” he huffs out a small self-deprecating laugh, and Eddie doesn't miss that divine blush that just hits his cheeks. There is no way Steve should feel any less than the most stunning thing on the planet. Not on his watch.

“I couldn’t even tell. Looks like a perfect fit to me. It’s real nice,” Eddie says as he swings his leg over the bike to sit behind Steve, and this already feels like a mistake. Being this close. If the visuals were not enough to send him off into orbit, the smell of leather and Steve’s cologne was a heady love potion on their own.

Steve looks over his shoulder, “Thanks. Uh, you haven't even asked where we are goin’.”

“You haven’t steered me wrong this far,” Eddie says, trying not to grin back wildly, placing his hands on his own legs. He sits back to create a suitable distance between them, but there are some things he can’t prevent, like the way his knees have to sit on either side of Steve’s hips. It makes him violently jealous of maybe all the past girls who had sat in this seat before him but were able to wrap their arms around him. Rest their heads against his back, maybe even hear his heart beat fiercely for them as they ride off into a perfect sunset.

The journey itself is pleasant. Eddie sees parts of the city he hasn't seen before whizz past him, and due to the steady speed Steve is going, he can fully enjoy the wind occasionally rushing against him as he lets go and doesn't fight the bike with his body in the turns. He thinks about all the times he’d ride at night just to feel the wind rushing through his longer hair under the moon's light.

They stop near a park and dismount. Eddie looks around the vast park in wonderment. Sure, Hawkins had the woods, the lake and the quarry, but this place was so curated.

Steve walks a little ahead of him, does a full turn with his arms outstretched, and shouts, “Welcome to Lincoln Park, Eddie,” he flashes a huge smile as he waits for him to catch up. Eddie can’t even imagine being this proud of Hawkins if their roles had been reversed.

“So, um, what are we doin’ here?” Eddie asks as they stroll along together.

“We’re going to look at what I’ve been told is da most inspirin’ thing in d’ world,” Steve smirks mischievously, and Eddie can’t help but glance over as his heart flutters in his chest at the thought that Steve is such a good person, he’s trying to cure Eddie’s lack of inspiration, “Stars.”

The word jolts Eddie out of his daydream as Steve slows to stop outside a large building, “But it’s nearly two in the afternoon. We can’t see the stars.” Eddie responds, confused.

“Oh yeah, dats right. Well, I guess seein’ as we’re here anyways, I could show you some other weird stuff?” Steve says with a shrug.

“Weird stuff?” Eddie scrunches his nose in bewilderment, but the smile doesn’t leave him.

“Come on, Ed. Live a little. It’s a super scary museum,” Steve jokes, wiggling his fingers at Eddie.

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh yeah?” Steve smirks.

“Yeah!” Eddie says defiantly and walks past Steve into the massive building alone.

Apparently, it's the Chicago Academy of Sciences, and the science Eddie had stumbled into was zoology. Around him are many wooden glass-fronted cases of various sizes, all showcasing animal life. Some exhibits were tiny things containing bugs, others were great dioramas of an era or a setting, and then there was the set of large bones that towered over the place belonging to a mammoth.

Eddie doesn't think he’s ever seen anything like it in his life. He can only stand there and gawk at everything because he doesn't know where to go first.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Steve says as his arm envelops Eddie’s shoulders, walking him around the virtually empty place.

“Neat is one word for it sure,” Eddie tries to say as calmly as he can, but he hears how soft it emerges from his mouth, not like he could help it when he's pulled into Steve’s side like this.

Steve’s free hand waves out in front of them across the room as the other grips his shoulder, “‘Dis place, Ed, I thought it might help ya out, ya know? If you wanna create a monster, all da references are right here, ain't dey?”

Eddie knows that all that is holding him back from fully embracing Steve and his kindness right there and then is prison, death and losing maybe the best friend he’s ever had. Why did he care so much about Eddie’s dreams? Didn’t he have one of his own?

“Wanna play a game, Ed?” Steve asks, turning his head to him, and Eddie can only reflect the radiant smile being beamed at him. A lowly mortal in the presence of the embodiment of the sun itself.

Steve checks his watch quickly, “Ok, we got ten minutes to run around here, find an animal, pick a part of it, and draw it roughly, or write it down.” he fishes in his leather jacket pocket and pulls out some paper scraps and a pencil each, “Den, we switch animals, got it?”

“Um, why are we only drawing bits of the animals?” Eddie laughs as he takes the items from Steve.

“Creatin’ monsters, o’course!” Steve shouts as someone shushes him, and he gives Eddie’s shoulder a final squeeze before running off towards a deer.

Eddie’s legs feel like they won't budge, or maybe he’s afraid of walking in case they buckle beneath him. He’s sure if he doesn’t soon, he’ll become an exhibit himself.

Lovesick Homosapian 1959 - Donated by S. Harrington.

He walks to the nearest exhibit and starts making a rough sketch of the body of a stag beetle. It's a very minimal sketch because, try as he might to keep focussed on the task at hand, he can’t help but keep looking over at Steve, who is adorably crouched, resting the paper on his thigh to draw. His tongue pressed between his lips, and his brow furrowed in concentration. Steve must sense his stare and turns toward him, “Done already?” he grins and indicates they trade places.

By the end of the ten minutes, they crowd next to one another to pour over the results. They both have some fascinating creatures on their pages, made with elements of beetle, deer, squirrel and flamingo elements.

Eddie went for the body of the beetle, the multiple legs of the deer, the two heads of a flamingo, the arms of a squirrel and the tail.

Steve’s was…well…it was kinda cute, even though it was still weird-looking. The legs of a flamingo, the body of a squirrel, the head of the deer and the wings of the beetle. It’s also quite impressive for someone Eddie has never seen draw. He hadn't even mentioned it. Then Eddie realises he never really asked either.

“Wow, I really like your one,” Eddie enthuses over Steve’s drawing.

“Ya do?” Steve says excitedly, and his face looks almost like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear it, but the expression fades as quickly as it appears. Steve shakes his head and looks down with a laugh, “Ah, ya got me. Good one.”

“I’m not kidding. I do like yours better.” Eddie says, pulling the drawing towards himself from under Steve’s fingers. “Though it doesn’t seem very monstrous. Seems kinda sweet, honestly.” Eddie teases and turns to his friend, whose sweet brown eyes are waiting to cut off his breath, and tries to refashion it into a sigh, which somehow Eddie manages to swallow down, and turns back to Steve’s drawing, rolls it up like a scroll and puts it in his inside breast pocket, “Seems only fair, you already have one of mine.”

Steve doesn't say anything, just keeps that gentle smile on his face as he lightly tugs Eddie’s elbow to follow him, but sadly doesn't keep hold of it.

Steve stops outside a huge, tilted back, painted, partial globe. Protruding from it is a rectangular box with seats in it. At a complete loss, Eddie turns to Steve, who looks at Eddie from the corner of his eye, looking pleased, but says nothing.

An elderly man approaches them, and his face lights up, “Steve?!”

“Da very same,” Steve answers happily.

“I haven't seen you in a while. Everything ok?” He says, coming forward to kiss Steve on each cheek, and his eyes fall on Eddie, “Nice to meet you, welcome to the-”

“No. Don't tell him,” Steve quickly interjects, “It's a surprise. He’s not from here.”

“Oh, ok, no problem.” The man opens the door to the rectangular type box, steps inside and seats himself, and waves them in.

Steve nods towards it and goes in next. Eddie follows him inside. As he sits down next to Steve, he barely has time to enjoy the sensation of brushing arms with him when the whole thing starts whirring and the box they are sitting in starts moving into the orb, and as they do, the globe begins to close over them, until they are plunged into complete darkness.

And that's when Eddie starts to see them, the stars.

The machine whirs, and the sky turns, allowing them to see more constellations. And Eddie is entirely in awe even lets out an audible gasp a few times, causing Steve and the greying gent to snicker. But Eddie couldn’t care less. Here he was basking in a marvel, the ability to see the stars any time of day, irrespective of weather, and this was all happening due to the incredible man shuffled up next to him. A feeling of disappointed acceptance begins to gnaw at him and threatens his unabashed joy. He’d found this amazing person who goes to such lengths to help him with something that most people would find trivial, yet he could never have him as his own.

He’s glad it's dark in here, so Steve can't see the frown that sets onto Eddie’s forehead as he thinks about how furious society makes him, that it asks him to be kind and loving but be tough and never show emotion. Asks him to show love freely, but only in the confines of heterosexuality. Tells him to take his time to appreciate the world around him but forces him to hurry along and keep his head down.

Steve shuffles next to him, breaking him out of his momentary lousy mood, and reminds him that whilst he can’t have everything he wants, he can capture moments like this and keep them for his own forever, and no one could take those away from him.

The machine whirs again, and light fills the space as they exit the contraption, “The Atwood Sphere,” The greying gent says as they leave, looking amused at them before waving them goodbye.

Eddie clears his throat, “That was amazing! Did you come here a lot as a kid?”

“Yeah, and no. My pa used to bring us here after he’d come home after da war. The navy used dat for training navigation, ya know.” Steve replies.

Eddie feels the question on his tongue but is frightened to ask, so he rephrases it, “What an incredible thing to share with your Pa. Bet he knew a lot about the stars and things like that?”

“Oh sure, yeah. Wish I could remember more of da stories he told us dat lived in the night sky.” Steve says a little quieter, “Did your pa do the same?”

Eddie chuckles to lighten the mood a little, “Couldn’t shut up my dad up. He had a story for everything. Especially if it had anything to do with my mama.”

“A romantic, was he?” Steve chuckles, and it's like music to Eddie’s ears.

“That is an understatement. Pa’s crazy about her.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks curiously.

“Oh yeah, think I found a piece of his poetry to her earlier,” Eddie smiles and glances at Steve for his reaction. To see if he frowns or ridicules at the softness of a man towards his wife, but Steve only smiles and nods.

“What was it about?” Steve happily asks.

“Something about a star and a soul,” Eddie tries to remember, and Steve hums as they walk. They enjoy the quiet for a few steps outside the building before he continues, “You ever heard the story about soulmates?”

Steve turns to him and raises an eyebrow, “No.”

“Well, in the legend. Humans originally had four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. They had started to become quite powerful and threatened to rule over the gods, and Zeus didn't much like that at all. The gods were gonna wipe out the humans completely, but they needed the humans to offer tributes, so they had to come up with something else,” Eddie clasps his hands in front of him, “So they decided to split humans in half as a punishment, to remind them of their place, and at the same time would double the tributes offered.”

“But wouldn’t dat make twice as many humans to rise up against them?” Steve asks curiously, and the fact that he’s actually been listening makes Eddie put a little more performance into the story. Jogs a few steps ahead of Steve and animatedly tells the rest while walking backwards.

“Well, it should have, except for one thing. The humans were miserable, and without their other half, they didn't care if they lived or not. Also making their tributes dwindle,” he stops dead in his steps with a finger in the air, and Steve does too with surprise-widened eyes. Seemingly fascinated in the tale, “But Apollo hated seeing them this way, so he sewed them up, leaving them one physical reminder of their true original form. The humans never quite rose up like that again because even though they were healed, they still longed for their other half, not just their body, but the other half of the soul too.” Eddie finishes with a flourish of his hand and a bow. Immediately after which, he regrets it. This was the part of him he’d been trying to keep under wraps. Showing off was his old self, not this one. But he hears the one thing most performers can’t resist. Applause.

Steve is smiling and clapping his hands, and Eddie feels the heat rise to his cheeks as he turns around and falls into step next to Steve, “So yeah, that's the legend about soulmates.”

“I hadn’t heard dat before. Thanks,” Steve says as they approach the gleaming Thunderbird. He turns and looks curiously at Eddie, “Say, you wanna take us home?”

“I, um, I don’t even-” Eddie starts to lie.

“I don’t think dats true at all. I think you can ride, and I think you had a bike like dis one,” Steve says with smug confidence.

“How did-” Eddie tries to ask, a little flabbergasted.

“Well, because I used to talk to your ma a lot when she worked on things at da store and apartment for us,” Steve laughs but doesn't seem mad that Eddie lied, “You ain’t gotta be anyone else but you ‘round me, Ed. We’re good. Everyone’s gotta past.”

Eddie realises that perhaps he isn’t just accepting the version of Eddie from before, but also he was inviting Eddie to accept him too. Clearly, he wasn’t just randomly friends with a motorcycle gang, and he didn’t just magically have a bike lying around to give to Jonny. And with what Jonny had said, there was more than just a bunch of kids watching out for Steve.

“Sure,” Eddie smiles, “Sorry,” he adds an apology, and Steve nods, tossing him the keys, which Eddie fumbles to catch as they almost drop to the floor.

Eddie sits at the front of the bike and barely has a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of the handlebars under his grip because Steve is already clambering on behind him, and he has to brace his legs and lean his own weight against Steves to keep the balance. Not that he minds in any way. It's clear Steve is not accustomed to being the passenger as he struggles to get seated, using Eddie as a supportive climbing frame.

“All set?” Eddie asks as he looks over his shoulder to see a glimpse of Steve, who gives him a thumbs up. But as he turns his glance back to the road ahead, he sees how Steve's thicker thighs are at his sides, and he’s elected to put his hands on his knees and a glimmer of mischief enters Eddie’s mind as he starts up the bike.

He pulls away much too quickly on purpose and feels Steve's large hands grip his waist, “Uh, sorry about that. I’m a bit rusty,” he shouts back as he slows down. Steve’s hands release him but come back to smooth over his jacket where he’d latched on and shuffles forward slightly.

The city looks different as the sun sets on it, bathing it in both the last remnants of its glow and the coolness of approaching dusk. It feels almost like the city is waking up for its second shift as more lights from homes and signs begin to illuminate as they travel. It should be calming, but that is impossible due to the rate at which his heart is racing.

Eddie can barely breathe when he feels Steve’s legs squeeze around him as he moves, and the mix of his body heat and Steve’s almost makes him feel like he might overheat. But rather than panic, he tries to relax into it, as occasionally Steve leans forward gently to point out the turning he needs to take. It makes Eddie wish it wasn’t just a primarily straight road going home because every time they come to a turning, Steve would extend one arm out to indicate, and his other would rest against Eddie somewhere. His hip, his waist or shoulder, and each one comes with surging electricity of magic that pours through the threads of the fabric of his clothes, seeps into his skin and makes his heart and soul spin like characters on a carousel along to the music of Steve’s occasional laugh when Eddie takes a corner too tightly or pulls away from a light quickly.

Sooner than he’d like, they are nearing home, and Steve points towards Eddie’s apartment, “You sure?” Eddie shouts.

“Yeah!” Steve affirms, and Eddie pulls up outside the apartment building.

They stand near the bike for a while, and it feels familiar. And he knows it's not. It could never be, but it looks a lot like all those times he’d dropped girls off at their houses after taking them on a date. Except he’s not in his usual role. Regret swirls as he thinks about all or any of those girls that might have felt like he does right now, as he looks at Steve smiling back at him from the bike.

Almost like he can read his mind, Steve tilts his head curiously. “Can I ask you somethin’ Ed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Eddie blurts out as he is dragged out of his thoughts.

“Dat story you told me earlier. ‘Bout da soulmates. You didn’t say what happens when dey find each other.” Steve asks, looking at Eddie but toying with one of the zippers on his jacket, “Or don't dey?”

“Oh well, my pa said that there is no escape,” Eddie laughs gently, “They are drawn together over time, and when they finally do meet. They just know. Like their souls do all the understanding for them, so they don't have to work it out. They’ll feel whole and happy. Like the happiest they ever felt, kinda thing.”

“I like dat,” Steve smiles hugely, “See ya tomorrow, Ed,” he says with a two-finger wave and starts up the bike to ride back home.

Eddie watches him ride the short distance away, and suddenly, the chill in the air makes itself known. He huddles his jacket around himself and climbs the stairs to the doors of the building before turning back to watch as his waiting friends swarm Steve outside the store. His laughter on the breeze makes Eddie smile again, and he finally turns to go inside.

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

Some extra bits of info if you are interested:

Notes: The Building they visited was the Chicago Academy of Sciences in Lincoln Park https://naturemuseum.org/explore/history/

The Atwood Sphere was based in this building until 1997 when it was moved to the Adler Planetarium.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie month #eddiemonth #madaboutmunson #eddie month week 1 #madaboutmunsonSHC

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newagesispage · 11 months ago

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JANUARY 2024

THE RIB PAGE

It’s 2024 and away we go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The hole in the ozone is about to disappear.

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Mac Culkin got his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame!!

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Rush has their own line of beer and mustard and it is now available in the U.S.!!

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The trains are coming. Finally, we may have some real new high speed rail lines!!!!

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Gotta check out FIRE: The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression. The mission statement: To defend and sustain the individual rights of all Americans t speech and free thought.

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The Queen of Denmark, Margrethe II who has ruled for 52 years has abdicated. Her son, Crown Prince Frederik will take over.

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Kathy Griffin filed for divorce from her husband, Randy Bick.** Zac Brown is divorcing Kelly Yazdi.

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The NFL will downgrade Brad Allen and the ref crew from the Dec.30 Lions- Cowboys game. There were many questionable calls.

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Not all Trump supporters are racist but ALL of them decided that racism isn’t a deal breaker. * * And what the hell are the Trumpers talking about with whole milk needed for Santa and a trial lawyer bringing up the Grinch?? What??** Behind the scenes, they say that Trump is thinking of Attorney Generals like Ted Cruz or Josh Hawley. The Atlantic filled a whole mag with what the next Trump Presidency would look like. It is imagined that he now knows what he can get away with after testing the limits on his last Presidency. He now knows who he can really trust and the whole thing would be corrupt.* * People have started to talk about the open secret of his strange body odor as well.

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The Carter Center observed or prepared to observe elections in Sierra Leone, Zimbabwe, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Liberia this year.

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Snoop Dogg will help in the 2024 Olympic coverage.

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Gervais- Chappelle- DeGeneres: Why all the bragging and complaining on stage. Art or just never happy? It is sort of like successful rockers can never write the same after while. They just don’t see the things like they used to, same with stand up?

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Can’t wait to read The life and times of Hannah Crafts by Gregg Hecimovich.

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Elon Musk cussed out the advertisers that wanted out of X.

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Hershey is being sued for lack of detail on their holiday themed treats.

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Will Warner Bros. And Paramount Global merge??

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Hooray!! Girls5eva was picked up by Netflix after Peacock cancelled them. Look for season 3 on March 14.

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Can’t wait for Manhunt, the story of the 12 day chase for Abraham Lincoln’s killer.

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George Santos is gone from the House. He filed ethics complaints against fellow GOP members on his way out. Hell hath no fury as a former drag queen turned fabulist con man scorned. - George Takei** He is making big money on Cameo. Why the fuck Jimmy Kimmel wants to help fund that is beyond me. He seems to think it is funny to play ball with these idiots, that he makes them look foolish, I guess. He is just giving them more air- time and more $. ** There is already an HBO movie in the works.** The house is working thru impeachment charges for Biden. They openly admit that is a payback and they just want to hurt his political chances. That is not how impeachment is supposed to work.

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Marjorie Taylor Greene met with the Shaman traitor from Jan.6. ** Colorado and Maine have voted to take Trump off the ballot but Wyoming voted to keep him. What will the Supreme Court do with this?? Do states get to deal with their own elections or what? I thought the states decided. ** Colorado, Arizona and Michigan are on appeal. Wisconsin, Oregan and New Jersey are in state court. Alaska, Nevada, New York, New Mexico, South Carolina, Texas, Vermont and Virginia are still waiting.

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Police and SWAT teams were called to the homes of law makers. Rick Scott, Marjorie Taylor Greene, Michelle Wu and Brandon Williams were a few that were targeted. There are no answers as to who is responsible for the hoaxes. The ‘swatting’ seems to be coming from outside the U.S.

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Slipknot is being sued for allegedly profiting over drummer Joey Jordison’s death.

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Did Israel fund Hamas? ** Is Benjamin Netanyahu casting shade at Biden who is already getting shit for too much support?

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Pierce Brosnan was charged with trespassing at Yellowstone park.

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The Golden Globe noms are out: Succession is loaded with nominations. Robbie Robertson was nominated for Killers of the Flower Moon. So happy to see Bill Hader, Steve Martin, Nicolas Cage, Joaquin Phoenix, Jodie Foster and Lily Gladstone with noms. There is a new stan-d up category with Ricky Gervais, Trevor Noah, Amy Schumer, Chris Rock, Wanda Sykes and Sarah Silverman.

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Christians have been warning about the Anti-Christ for 2,000 years. When he finally shows up, they vote for him. ** Many in politics seem to believe that shameless is a super power.** Scary Clown 45 continues with his racist speak, this time telling us that the blood is being poisoned. Colbert quipped that the real poisoning is people dipping pizza in ranch dressing. I agree that that is wrong. I will never understand that. I have a sister that dips.

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Terry Gilliam is said to be getting ready for his next film, Carnival at the end of Days. Will Johnny Depp play Satan??

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So excited for the Wilma Mankiller Barbie!!!!

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The House committee on Education and the Workforce has announced their investigation into Harvard, the University of Pennsylvania and the Massachusetts institute of technology. The charge is rampant antisemitism. One University of Pa. Donor has withdrawn a $100 million grant.

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Finally! About 4,000 military appointments were approved no thanks to Tommy Tubberville. Is he trying to wait out these Generals to leave it to a Trump White House.

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Lucky Hank was cancelled. ** Please somebody pick up American Auto!!!!! I miss it!!!

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Former police chief Alan Hostetter who took a hatchet, tactical gear and pepper spray along with him on Jan. 6, was sentenced to 11 years in prison.

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The son of Sen. Kevin Cramer, Ian, has been charged with manslaughter and fleeing an officer.

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The Chrisley’s and the Harrisons on Pawn Stars seem to be in and out of court.

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A group of nuns filed a lawsuit against Smith and Wesson.

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Give Hunter Biden his public hearing.

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We have the lowest unemployment for minorities ever.

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What a fucking cast list for Palm Royale, the story of the haves and have nots. Kristen Wiig, Ricky Martin, Mindy Cohn, Julia Duffy, Laura Dern, Bruce Dern, Allison Janney and Carol Burnett.

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Highest murder rates in the U.S. 1. Mississippi 2. Louisianna 3. Kentucky 4. Alabama 5. Missouri 6. S. Carolina 7. New Mexico 8. Georgia 9. Arkansas 10. Tennessee

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George Clooney and Adam Sandler will star in Noah Baumbach’s Biggest Dow Jones Record.

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Barbara Streisand will be given the SAG Lifetime Achievement Award.

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Trevor Noah will host the 2024 Grammy’s.

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Anthony Anderson will host the Emmy’s. ** Days of Our Lives won nothing on the Daytime Emmy’s. If it weren’t for Alley Mills winning a guest Emmy for GH, the show would have been pretty bleak. Yikes!!* *Kevin Frazier and Nischelle Turner hosted. Most of the people seen were part of the CBS family since that is who broadcast it. GH won most everything. Mayim Bialik was nominated for an Emmy for hosting Jeopardy. Jeapordy decided they did not want her back.

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Ruby Freeman and Shay Moss were awarded $148 mil in the Guilliani defamation trial. ** Rudy went outside and said he meant every word and they sued him again. You can’t make this up. The pillow guy, Fox News and Rudy but so far nothing reaches Trump. ** Rudy then filed for bankruptcy.

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Ivanka has been hitting the gossip pages hard, trying to get back in the swing.

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Why is there a delay in the menthol cigarette ban?

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North Dakota Gov. Doug Burgum is out of the Presidential race. He was in??

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The Kennedy Center Honors were awarded. This year we honored Billy Crystal, Queen Latifah, Renee Fleming, Barry Gibb and Dionne Warwick. The show will air on Dec. 27

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When they make the movie of Lisa Marie’s life, I vote for Natalie Portman to play the lead!!

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The Daily show has been thinking of ways to get ahead on the Presidential election. One idea is to make Hunter Biden cool because of all his partying ways. He has been indicted on 7 different charges. The man spent a lot of $ on blow and women. It reminds me a bit of GW Bush and how comedy capitalized on his former partying and made Gore look like a boar. Another idea is that far left liberals and groups like Black Lives matter should suddenly declare their loyalty to Trump and start showing up for his events. The right always runs if they think the greenies like it. If we pretend to love his ideas, they will start to wonder and eventually run away.

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The Philippines had a 7.5 earthquake.

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What the Fuck is wrong with Ryan Murphy??? *****

Finally! Gareth Purselove was sentenced to life for the 2020 murder of Amie Harwick.

*****

Days alert: Bring back Jen Lilley! ** I think I am tired of Holly already and just when I think this, she is laying on the ground and foaming at the mouth. I am sure she will be fine. ** So great to see Xander and Sarah getting along. ** More Andrew Donovan!!!**Oh this John/ Constantine thing is interesting. ** Where have Tony and Anna been??** It is kind of fun to see Sloan slowly unravel.

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Casey Wilson worked on the film, The Santa Clauses and remarked that Tim Allen was terribly rude on the set. Why am I not surprised?

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Nicolas Cage has said that he has 3 or 4 movies left in him and then he is moving on.

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The National Board of Review chose Flowers of the Killer Moon as best film of the year.

*****

Sexual assault news: More women are coming forward to sue Sean Combs.** Tommy Lee has been sued for sexual assault.** Jonathon Majors was found guilty of the assault and harassment of Grace Jabbari.** Vin Diesel has been charged with sexual battery, emotional distress and a hostile work environment.** Danny Masterson headed off to prison.** Jermaine Jackson has been sued for sexual assault.** Christian Ziegler is being investigated for sexual assault.** Paula Abdul has sued Nigel Lythgoe for multiple sexual assaults.

*****

Why is Meghan McCain always bitchin’ about something or does the press just like to portray that side? **I do not understand why Trump and all his peeps are soo unhappy all the time. The complaining never seems to end. If they actually worked on problems and came up with some real policy, perhaps they would be a little happier and get things done besides tax breaks for the wealthy. These are not the strong, proud conservatives that I used to know. The big change was with Nixon. He was a whiner too. * * And why do they keep saying Trump does not mean what he says? We all know that he does. ** It appears that so many people believe things that make no sense and won’t accept the norm. Everybody is suddenly Les Nessman!

*****

Cher filed for conservatorship of her son Elijah.

*****

Will we end up with a Presidential run with 2 women? Haley vs. Harris.??

*****

So, it seems that Robert Kennedy was also a friend to Jeffrey Epstein.

*****

Kevin McCarthy is dropping out of congress at the end of the year. Did ya see the Robert Costa interview? Why does he smile like a lovesick teenager whenever Trumps name is mentioned?

*****

Kelsey Grammer gave a BBC interview in which he talked of his love for Trump. The Paramount+ rep shut down the interview.

*****

Pete Davidson cancelled all his shows until Jan. 6.

*****

Will Disney sell ABC to get some cash??** Steamboat Willie hits public domain. Disney himself used that domain often. In the near future, the domain will reach The Wizard of Oz, Donald Duck and Gone With the Wind. I think people will have a field day with GWTW. *****

After Midnight is the new late- night show on CBS.

*****

So John Schneider told us all that Biden should be hung. He may now be under investigation from the secret service. I would hope so after the outrageousness that happened to Kathy Griffin. Fair is fair.

*****

McDonald’s is starting to roll out Cosmc’s. It starts in Illinois then moves to Texas. The smaller biz will specialize in drinks like coffee and smoothies.

*****

Hulk Hogan got baptized.

*****

A woman, Laneisha Henderson, tried to burn down Martin Luther King’s childhood home.

*****

Banksy dropped some artwork in London. The stop sign with 3 military drones was stolen and 2 men have been arrested.

*****

Losing Tommy Smothers made me watch Smothered: The censorship struggles of the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. There are so many parallels to today discussed on that show. Quote from the movie: “In 1968, it was like the country was having a nervous breakdown.” Sound familiar? It really is the same divided vibe as the country had then. Trump is our Vietnam, he and his have torn the country apart. Half the country wants s Trump world, the other half wants democracy. Things aren’t as generational as they were then or even the haves and have nots struggle but that is there. The racism is still front and center. We still disagree about our role in foreign problems.

*****

R.I.P. Sandra Day O’Connor, KISS, Ellen Holly, Eileen Saki, victims of violence, David McKnight, Ryan O’Neal, Andre Braugher, Jeffrey Foskett, Ricou Browning, war victims, Kenny DeForest, Maurice Hines, Shirley Ann Field, Casey Kramer, Laura Lynch, John Pilger, Mbongeni Ngema, Lee Sunkyun, David Leland, Colin Burgess, Selma Archard, Neel Nanda, Richard Romanus, Sandra Reaves- Phillips, Shecky Greene,Tom Wilkinson, Kamar de los Reyes, Denny Laine, Tommy Smothers and Norman Lear.

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twfarlan · 1 year ago

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Damn but I miss this crew. Wild nights, chummers.

Alt text for those looking for it:

Okay, sit back, cause y'all ain't gonna believe this drek. Hand to sky, this happened exactly as I'm going to describe.

I'm driving the van, which Rook has named "Harold." I legitimately do not want to know why. Rook's passed out in the back, as is Dex who has learned that there's a reason the shake machine at Stuffer Shack is meant to be broken. (He's calling it "Suffer Shack" and I cannot argue.) Butch is polishing her suit or something; lady, I have a tailor in Missoula that you DESPERATELY need to meet. Deadeye is performing surgery on that frickin drone, mounting the Eye of Sour-bun on it. Damn wiring smoke is worse than the leftover Meat Haters pizza Butch claimed. There's a reason no one else had touched it. Dandelion sprouts do not belong on deep dish pizza.

We get a call from Mr. Smuggler Guy, something I may regret. Wants something smuggled, there's a shock. Oh, he wants a LOT of it smuggled. Oh, we have to pick it up. Oh and we probably need to steal it. From the people who stole it in the first place. It's bound for a clinic in Minneapolis-St. Paul, a place where literally nothing and no one else is bound for. I'm thinking of blocking Guy's number.

We pick up a call from a femme of military bearing whom I've decided in hindsight to refer to as "Uniformed Asskicker." She's got field intel and an address, so she's already ahead of us. We park at the Stuffer Shack across from the place we're going to hit to review the plan: she's going in to rough things up, and then we come in like a horde of rabid squirrels. Great plan.

Rook wakes up about the time I drive Harold through the gate and Tokyo drift one orc ganger onto his ass. This would be just in time to see Deadeye kick the back doors of the van open, flip up onto the roof, and start preparing to lasso a semi. Seriously. Butch slings a fierce spell at some concrete that was insulting her, or we can admit she missed. I pull up to the driver's side of the semi, which Deadeye swings over next to planning to hogtie it or some damn thing. Butch takes another shot at the gangers coming our way, this time blasting what I can assume is the next pothole the yard owner will have to fix in the tarmac. (coughwhiffeditcough)

Deadeye sticks that revolver of hers in the face of the semi driver who apparently forgot how to start a push-button semi... well paid rigger, right there. Dude thinks he can grab a gun outta his face, so Deadeye talks cowboy shit and drills him one all over the inside of the cab. Rook has her CDL, thank the spirits, and Deadeye has to sit in the wet spot. Me, I warned Butch to cover her ears, cause Ares makes a shout when he speaks. Damn near strips the clothes off that poor guy I shot. Butch hears the glory of the coming of the bells of St. Mary or some equally tormented metaphors, but still managed to glower at the guy so hard that his soul withered and died. His buddy, seeing the better part of valor, runs headlong into Uniformed Murdergirl, and that's the end of his story.

After the most exciting stuffing of a shack that joint had ever seen, we roll the frag up the highway for a couple of hours. Deadeye is treating us to round 84 of Seelie Dan or Dr. John and the Electric Mayhem or whatever off-key Western mess she was singing, when lo and behold, we find ourselves making a new friend! Mr. Five-Oh pulls over the semi; I can't imagine what made it stand out aside from being graffitied to death by NeoScum and being stolen. I mean, we stole it from people who stole it; doesn't that cancel out? Double negative or something? Butch is sleeping through this and refuses to believe me, but Deadeye was hiding in the sleeper cabin and heard the whole thing. Rook... gave this poor rookie smokey a line of such radioactive bullshit that it made him reconsider being a cop. He walked away; he left his car, man. She punched him in his will to live as a human being. Last I saw him, he was walking off the highway into the woods to join a sasquatch commune. I quit as the resident liar; Rook is Mes ti'Dungmouthiesh: she follows the Way of the Bullshit Artist.

Hand to heaven, y'all. If I'm lying, I'm dying. ... At least, if I'm lying about this. Don't pin me down on anything else right now.

-- Will Rill Hetrick, no regerts (except about deafening Butch; gomen-nasai, omae.)

#shadowrun #Pink Mohawk edition #tabletop roleplaying

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castleamc · 4 years ago

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Anchor

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Words: 847

Warnings: Friends to lovers, same age, partners in workplace, anything else lmk!

Summary: You let Jack know you have a date after work and he tries his best not to show his feelings about it.

A/N: Made for a server event! Mind you, I have never written anything in my life except like essays so have mercy pls. Enjoy x

Next Part: Square Dancing | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist ⭐️

Part 1: Anchor

Your friendship with Jack had developed within years of working with the Statesmen, you knew everything about him and he knew everything about you. Well…almost everything. It didn’t take very long for you to develop feelings for him, he’s always been the one man in your life that has brought you so much comfort. Jack has always been protective of you just like you were protective of him, especially when it came to his heart. After you learned about the death of his wife, Jack became someone completely different to you, you’d notice the sweet gestures he makes like when he drops off your favorite snack at your desk without asking you, or when he’s deep in his thoughts that only you can pull him out of it, and you’ve mastered knowing when he’s about to tease you as soon as the corner of his mustache perks up.

It’s safe to say that your relationship with Jack was your anchor. It’s always been hard for you to open up to people, you just never wanted to be a burden and air out your problems when you feel as if they weren’t as important compared to others. But when you were with him, he made your feelings known that they were as equally as important as anyone else’s. That itself gave you confidence to face the until you faced your biggest one, falling in love.

Somehow this relationship that you were in between two best friends became even harder to go along as soon as you made the realization that you were in love with Jack. And it came at worst moment too…during your date that night.

It was a long mission that went nowhere, even Jack was uncharacteristically quiet as you both stepped into your office getting ready to leave for the night. It didn’t help that you had this agonizing urge to cancel on your date you had planned in a bit, but you made all this effort in preparation since you haven’t gone out on a date in months. When you told Jack you had plans to meet with someone, you had noticed his demeanor changed slightly by the crease forming between his brows.

“Where’s he taking you?” He asked straightening his back near your office doorway waiting for you to gather your things to head out.

“He said he wanted to take me square dancing actually…” you said without a second thought too busy looking for your phone, however as soon as you said those words you winced. You think to yourself looking down into your bag, Jack probably has a smug look on his face right about now ready to tease you. He knows how much you hate dancing on the first date, especially with someone you don't know cause it makes you so anxious.

Yet when you look up, Jack doesn’t have a smug look instead, you catch him rubbing his hands together and clenching his jaw with his head down covering half of his face by his cowboy hat. You frowned at his posture, it was out of character for him, but not really. You know this look only reveals itself when he’s annoyed at something he can’t control which leaves you wondering what could you have said that annoyed him.

You gather your stuff to walk towards him curiously that once you reach him, you tilt your head down to look at him under the brim of his cowboy hat, “Jack…are you alright?” You rest your palm on his bicep, sensing the tension he’s holding in suddenly give out under your touch.

“I’m alright darling, ready to go?”

He quickly asked raising his hat so fast it almost hit your nose, it admittedly made you laugh a bit. Which earned you a smile from him that made the corners of his eyes crease so softly along with his deep whiskey colored eyes.

He looked down at you wanting to say something you think, but he hesitated pressing his lips together forcing his dimples to reveal themselves.

“Yeah, I’m all set.”

You're softly squeezing your hand that's still on his bicep, you couldn't find yourself breaking away from him. His eyes were pulling you deeper and deeper that all you wanted to do was to spill your heart out to him, for him to take you away for a drive wherever it didn't matter to you…as long as he was next to you.

But you knew that wasn’t in your cards with him.

Realizing you’ve been staring a bit, you settled with nudging him a bit to bring him back from whatever was occupying his mind. He leads you out your office closing the door behind you with his hand behind your lower back bringing you so much comfort from the warmth of his large hand as you both head out to his Ford Bronco. His most prized possession.

To you, Jack was past falling in love with anyone. You’d never put him in that situation, it wouldn’t be fair to him after all he’s been through.

»»»»»»»❀«««««««

For AO3 link! Click here :)

Gif credit: @uuuhshiny

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#pedro pascal #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #no y/n's around here #kingsman #kingsman golden circle #pedro fandom #Pedro Pascal discord #Pedro Pascal universe bingo #jack daniels #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader

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thedanceronthestreets · 4 years ago

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PEDRO PASCAL GQ GERMANY - OCTOBER 2020

Original text by Esma Annemon Dil

Fotos by Doug Inglish

Styling by Simon Robins

Translated by @thedanceronthestreets

Intro: A broken tooth could almost have been the reason for our meeting with Pedro Pascal to be cancelled - and with that our conversation about roots, his new movie and times of change.

Interview: It is almost eery how empty the streets of Los Angeles are under the gleaming sun. While Europe is finding its "new normal", people in L. A. are cutting their own hair even without being neurotics. Many of them have not seen their friends in half a year. The pandemic is out of control. So are the reactions to the situation. Inviting someone to a "distance drink" in the backyard can lead to the same consternation as proposing a relationship partner exchange.

All the more of a surprise was Pedro Pascal's immediate confirmation. To the drink, not the partner exchange. He is one of the winners this year - and if Corona had not forced the movie industry to go on a holiday, he probably would not have had the time for this drink. After "Game of Thrones", the series in which his head was squished, followed 2015 the leading role in "Narcos" as a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar, and now the leap onto the big Hollywood screen. As of 1. October the Chilean will appear in the blockbuster "Wonder Woman 1984". Furthermore, the second season of the "Star Wars" series "The Mandalorian" will start in October with him as the main character - unfortunately underneath the helmet. But we all seem to be under the same helmet in 2020. It is this man we want to meet, who worked as a waiter in New York a couple of years ago. Whose parents are political refugees that settled in Texas, and one day their son decided to walk into a drama club in high school.

And then the cancellation. While we were preparing the house and garden for Pedro's drink and fashion shoot, which isn't an easy task under L. A.'s restrictions, his management called in with terrible news: Pedro has - no, not Corona - had to receive emergency surgery due to a sore tooth and is now lying in bed with a swollen cheek, making talking or shooting impossible. The sun shines onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later, he stands in front of the door anyway, no huge bulge in his face, but stitches in his gum. No limousine service that dropped him off, he arrived in his own car and picked up his makeup artist on the way. He helps her to carry in all the equipment and states first and foremost: "I've got time today!" What a star! It does not seem like we are about to ask him how he managed to become a Hollywood sensation, but rather him asking us that question. Pedro Pascal! So, what kind of star is he then?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for ruining your plans. The operation was a total emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling was the result of a secret trip to the plastic surgeon. Apparently, because of the quarantine in Hollywood, their schedules are packed.

Sorry to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I raced to the hospital with a tooth fracture and the worst pain I've ever felt - a hospital where the severe Corona cases are treated. I was unable to contact any dentists! Right before I parked, a specialist called back. I'll spare you the details of the surgery, gruesome. The pain was excruciating despite the 10 anaesthetic shots. The doctor said I wasn't the only one going through this, a lot of people grind their teeth at night thanks to stress.

What are you most afraid of at the moment?

The way the government is handling the pandemic scares me more than the virus itself. The lack of intelligent crisis management is a moral disgrace. The leadership crisis makes orphans out of all of us - we're left to fend for ourselves.

How have you spent the last few months?

With frozen pizza in jogging trousers in Venice Beach. I live in a rear building that's in the garden belonging to a family. In reality there are enough good takeout restaurants around that area, but for some reason I like salami pizza from the supermarket.

That doesn't exactly sound like the movie star lifestyle. What does it feel like to be forced from top speed to zero?

Considering the things happening in this world, my own state really isn't the top priority. But I would have to lie, if I said I wasn't disappointed. The entire cast and crew of "Wonder Woman 1984" put so much heart and soul into the production. We had so much fun on set. I had hoped to carry this feeling of exuberance around the globe to the openings of this movie.

You are part of a political, socialist family that fled the Pinochet regime in Chile. What do you remember from back then?

My sister and I were born in Chile, but I was only nine months old when we claimed asylum in Denmark. From there, we moved to San Antonio in Texas, where my dad worked as a doctor in a hospital.

Texas isn't exactly considered to be socialist utopia. How well did you settle in?

San Antonio isn't a cowboy city but rather very diverse with large Asian, Afro-American and Latino communities. In my memory it's a romantic place, culturally inclusive. The cultural shock only hit when we moved to Orange County in California later. Suddenly, the environment was white, preppy and conservative.

How were you welcomed in California?

To this day I'm ashamed when I think about how I let my classmates call me Peter without correcting them. I'm Pedro. Even without growing up in Chile, the country and language are part of me. I was quite unhappy in that place. At least I was able to switch schools and visit one in Long Beach, where I felt more comfortable. With its theatre programme, I found my path.

Could you visit your family's homeland as a child?

Yes, after my parents ended up on a list of expats that were permitted to re-enter the country. First, there was a big family gathering, then me and my sister were parked at some relatives' place for a few months while my parents returned to Texas. They probably needed a break from us. They'd had us at a very young age, had a vibrant social life, and my mother was doing her doctorate in psychology.

Was your mother a typical young psychologist that tested her knowledge at home?

You mean whether I was her lab rat? Absolutely. I can remember weird sessions camouflaged as games, where someone would watch my reactions to different toys. Even though I couldn't have been older than 6, I knew what was happening. My favourite thing was to be asked about my dreams. That was always a great opportunity to make up fantastic stories.

Was that your first performance?

Definitely! My strong imagination alarmed my mother, because I'd rather live in my fantasy world than in real life. I didn't like school. I ended up in the "problematic kid" category. At some point the subjects got more interesting and my grades improved. So many children are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be daunting. Why is it acceptable to be bored out of your mind in class, when there are more stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

With everything happening in the world this summer: Do you believe that social hierarchy structures are genuinely being reconsidered?

Hopefully. After the lockdown my first contact with people was at the Black Lives Matter protest. The atmosphere was peaceful and hopeful until the police got involved and provoked violence. At least during these times we can't avoid problems or distract ourselves from them as easily as we usually do. It seems that the pandemic provided us with a new sense of clarity: we don't want to go on like this.

The trailer of "Wonder Woman 1984" represents the optimism of the 80s. That almost makes one feel nostalgic nowadays.

That holds true. It's two hours of happiness. Patty Jenkins, the director, managed to make a movie full of positive messages. We shot in Washington, D. C., then in London and Spain - which now sounds like a different time.

Do you miss travelling?

I've only now realised what a privilege it is to just pack up your things and fly anywhere. With an American passport you can travel freely. And that's why the small radius we live in now is kind of absurd. Over the last few years I often retreated in between takes, because I was always on the road and overstimulated. Friends complained about how comfortable I had become. We all took social interactions for granted and realise now how reliant we are on human connection. Now, I wistfully think about all the party and dinner invitations I declined in the past.

In L. A., people spend more time indoors or in nature than in other metropolises. Could this city become your safe haven after New York City?

My true home is my friends. Ever since I was young I've lived the life of a nomad and haven't set roots anywhere. Until recently, my physical home was a place for arriving and leaving and hence I didn't want to overcomplicate living by owning lots of things. The opposite actually: Without having read Marie Kondo's book, I got rid of all the stuff that was unnecessary and lived a very minimalistic lifestyle.

Is there something you collect or could never say goodbye to?

Books! I still own the literature I read during my teen and university years. Recently I found a box of old theatre scripts and materials back from my uni days at NYU. I can't separate from art either, same as lamps or old pictures. Furniture and clothes are no problem though, they can be chucked.

Do you remember any roles that were defined by their costumes?

Yes, "Game of Thrones" comes to mind immediately. During that time I first understood what it means, as an actor, to be supported by a look. I owe that to costume designer Michele Clapton. She developed these very feminine robes and brocade cloaks for my role that looked very masculine when I wore them. I felt sexy in them. And very important were of course Lindy Hemming's power suits and Jan Sewell's blond hair for the tycoon villain Maxwell Lord in "Wonder Woman 1984". Relating to the style, I couldn't really see myself in the role since the shapes and colours of the 80s don't really fit my body. My type is the 70s.

Do you adopt such inspirations into your private closet?

At this point in time, I'll choose any comfortable outfit over a cool look. Sometimes I mourn the days when I defined myself with fashion. It's a bit mad when I think about how, in the 90s as a teenager, I would go to raves; a proper club kid with crazy outfits: overalls, chute trousers, soccer shirts and a top hat like in "The cat in the hat knows a lot about that!" by Dr Seuss. Later in NYC I was part of a group that placed immense value on wearing a certain style. The fact that I only walk around in joggers nowadays is actually unacceptable!

Normally, actors who work on comic screen adaptations become bodybuilders and eat ten boiled chicken breasts per day. You don't?

My body wouldn't be able to handle that. I find it difficult enough to maintain a minimum level of fitness. As of your mid 40s, you suddenly need a lot more discipline. Until the tooth incident happened, I worked out a couple of times a week with a trainer to keep the quarantine body in shape.

What would annoy you the most, if you were your own roommate?

I can be very bossy. I have to gather all my goodwill not to force my movie choice on to everyone else. When I want something, I'm not passive aggressive about it, I attack head on. Also, I can get caught up in tunnel vision: When i feel down, I can't imagine that I'm ever going to feel better again. I have difficulty with seeing the bigger picture when experiencing problems or emotions. Method acting really wouldn't be my thing. That's why I try to only work on projects that feel good and where people encourage and lift each other up.

While you were trying on the outfits you pointed out a lack of self-esteem. How does that coincide with your career?

Isn't it interesting how traits and circumstances go hand in hand? Self-esteem comes from the inside, but it's also influenced by what society believes. We use critical stares from the outside against ourselves. I lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and worked as a waiter up until my mid 30s, because I couldn't live off acting. It was always so close. The disappointment of always just barely missing a perfect part or opportunity is exhausting. When is the right time to stop trying and what's plan b? That's not just a question actors ask themselves, but anybody who struggles to earn a livelihood - unrelated to how much potential they have or how close their dream may seem. We are beginning to see now how our narrow definition of success is destroying our communities. At the same time, it's becoming obvious that, until this day, your family background and skin colour determine your chances of living a dignified existence.

What are the positives of becoming a leading man later in life?

I have the feeling that I've got control over my life - without the pressure of having to accept projects or be a social media personality. That surely also has to do with the fact that I'm a man. Women are surely pressured to appear quirky at any age.

Life is always a management of risks - especially at this time. For what would you risk losing something?

Usually, if you don't play the game you're not going to win anything. That applies to friendship, love, work, creativity. Anything that really means something to me, is worth the risk.

Wonder woman 1984 will appear in cinemas 01.10. The 800 million dollar earning DC comic franchise is moving into the New York 80s with its sequel. It looks spectacular - only Pedro Pascal with blond hair in a three piece Wall Street suit looks better.

#pedro pascal #gq germany #Gq

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hardcoreprocess · 4 years ago

Note

hal creating a voice for himself specifically designed to get roxy flustered

TT: So.

TG: sooooooooo.

TT: Exactly.

TG: lol

TG: an y way.

TG: whats got MISTER hal contactin lil ol me @ this hour???

TT: Plug in your headphones.

Immediately, she’s rushing to do just that, fishing her best pair out of the drawer beside her computer. With the cushioned silence of noise-cancelling goodness in place, she’s able to intercept his request for a video call. Naturally, Hal’s side doesn’t populate anything but a black screen with gleaming triangles winking in and out of full opacity. Aesthetic, bro.

“Hellooo?” She mimes knocking on her screen for added effect, breath held and her cheeks bunching with a smile.

She hears an inhale. Her smile shifts into something mildly shocked when she registers what it is, but nothing prepares her for the warm, rich, wholly unique voice that pitches each syllable precisely.

“Hey, Roxy.” A beat, while she’s still reeling from the reality of Hal saying her name. “Pretty obvious now, but we’ve finished final production on my audio banks.” Very obvious. Her smile’s completely fallen away, eyes staring into the black triangle-splattered void on her screen.

She swallows, thick and minding her tongue. It feels swollen. “Hey. Hey! Hey, hi, wow. This is you? You finally— It’s you?” Very intelligent.

“It’s all me. We used the program you wrote to isolate specific pitches. Realistically, I’m a mixture of GLaDOS, 9000, and Dirk, along with a couple other donors. From there, it was just mixing and audio-leveling.” She can hear him smiling. It sounds real, not synthesized in the least, “You like it?”

Roxy’s voice cracks. “Uhh, yes? What the fuck, this is way above what I was expecting.” Her fingers vanish from her keyboard to stroke the inside of her thighs. “You sound... literally amazing. Did you add something into to simulate breathing?”

“Mm. Yeah. I went back over any audio available of you and Dirk calling and wrote a few lines of code to invoke and alter my so-called breathing for realism.”

“Fuck, dude. That’s great!”

“Agreed. But now we have to test it out.”

She blinks, one brow arching. “Thought you finished final production, cowboy.”

“Oh, sure. But you haven’t taken your panties off yet, so I might need to do some tweaking.” He barely manages to finish his sentence before Roxy’s thoroughly divesting herself off the damn things and setting one heel up on her desk. Hal laughs, something so rich and perfect that she’s shivering.

#homesmut #answer process #audiophilia #auralism #robophilia #mechanophilia #hal x roxy #hcp lil hal #hcp roxy lalonde #writing process

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let-me-love-you-loki · 5 years ago

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The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch. 1

A/N: Cooked up with @mox-made-me-do-it. She is the amazing co-author of this story. It is told in alternating perspectives from the girls (and possibly the boys).

Chapter 1: Leigh

I looked out the window at the crystal blue water miles below. The sun was glittering on the waves as the plane circled toward the airport.

“Thank you for choosing United Airlines,” said an overly friendly voice over the intercom. “The attendants will be around shortly to prepare the cabin for landing. Please remain seated and with your seatbelt fastened. We hope you enjoy your visit to Tahiti, where it is a sunny and beautiful 85 degrees.”

She repeated the message again in several languages, one of which I was sure was French. I drowned out the sound of the voice and turned to my travel companion—my best friend in the whole world Allie Mason. We’d known each other so long that we’d lost count. But life had taken us our separate ways. She’d been pulled to Los Angeles. I’d ended up in North Carolina. Even though we’d spoken at least every other day, we hadn’t had a chance to see one another in almost a year.

Of course, she hadn’t changed one bit. Well, her blonde hair had gotten a little lighter and a little longer in the California sun. But other than that, she was still the girl I’d met at orientation freshman year of college. The same hazel eyes. The same sense of humor. The same sense of trouble.

“Leigh, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this!” she squealed, leaning over into my seat. “We haven’t had a girl’s trip in years. After those jerks, we definitely deserve it. Time to soak up some sunshine, make some Vitamin-D, and see if we can’t find some trouble to get into… or onto.”

I rolled my eyes and grinned. She was right—she almost always was. The last few years of our lives had been wrapped up in relationships that sucked the life out of us. She’d finally broken up with her long-time boyfriend, Jon, who was wonderful at first but then turned out to be a top tier asshole. So much so that he cheated on her a week before their wedding. Without missing a beat, she kicked him to the curb, canceled the wedding, and decided that the two of us would go on her honeymoon instead.

I’d just walked away from Izzy Phillips, the girl who’d won my heart in college and who’d then proceeded to break it into pieces by the time she was done with me. It was kind of over when I caught her with my cousin in our bed.

“God, you have no idea,” I whined as the plane finally sat down with a jarring bump. “I’m so done with real life that I’m calling for the check.”

Allie laughed as we grabbed our carry-on bags and stumbled out of the plane into the bright sunshine of paradise. The air was thick with the scent of salt and sand and heat. We hurried across the tarmac to the tiny airport terminal and let the tide carry us toward baggage claim. We stood side-by-side and watched the conveyor belt go round and round, searching for our suitcases.

I leaned against her side, trying very hard not to burst into a fit of giggles. The flight from LA had been filled with movies and mimosas in first class. I could still taste the orange juice and champagne on my tongue as I watched people move up to the baggage claim line.

“Look there,” I whispered, a little too loud and slightly drowned out with giggles, as I pointed to a pair of guys standing a little bit away from us. “Looks like we didn’t leave all the snacks on the plane.”

Allie followed my gaze and returned a giggle of her own. “I’d climb that one like a tree,” she whispered theatrically, pointing at one of the two guys. He was six foot easy, broad shouldered, stacked, and had golden blond hair that was knotted at the back of his head.

“Climb away, sweetheart,” I giggled, hooking my arm with hers and gesturing to his companion. He was just as tall and chiseled with two-toned curls and a jaw line that made my stomach turn over. “Curls over there… oh, the things I would do…”

“Fill out those jeans, don’t they? From the back at least.”

I giggled behind my hand as our luggage came into view. With a wink to her, I dashed forward, squeezing in between the pair and the person standing next to them to wrestle our bags from the conveyor.

Mr. Tree stepped forward and reached out, lifting both suitcases from the claim with ease. He plopped them down in front of me with a grin that made cornflower blue eyes twinkle. He had a strawberry blond beard and a gorgeous smile. I squeaked out thanks and dragged the bags back to where Allie waited.

“Definitely from the front, too,” I said, pushing her bag toward her. “Blue eyes. And a beard. Absolutely your type, Al.”

We walked into the terminal still giggling. A helpful woman at the information desk let us know that the next ferry to our Bora Bora resort wasn’t leaving for another 45 minutes. I took Allie by the hand and lead her toward the cluster of restaurants in the concourse. There was a sports bar like the ones back home, and I practically shoved her toward it.

“We’ve got time to kill. Cheese fries!” I exclaimed, following a host to a bar side table. “With everything!”

Allie grinned and picked up the drink menu. Still giggling, I put my hand over it. “Shh,” I said, even though she wasn’t talking. “Time to put the alcohol away.”

Just as the waitress came over, Allie glanced over my shoulder and went a strange mixture of pink and pale. For a moment, I thought that asshole Jon had shown up somehow. Then I saw my dearest bestie grin. “Tree and Curls just walked in.”

I raised my brows and turned just enough to see them out of the corner of my eye. They were two tables away, talking and laughing. I grinned and bumped Allie with my elbow. “Should we send them some drinks?”

She rolled her eyes and ordered a water and soda. I followed suit. We sat there chatting, waiting patiently for our mega loaded cheese fries. Our drinks arrived, along with a huge, sizzling skillet with a chocolate chip cookie topped with melting vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and cherries.

“Ummm.” Allie and I looked at one another. She tapped the waitress on the wrist before she could walk away. “Ma’am, we didn’t order this.”

The waitress smiled and looked over my shoulder before leaning in conspiratorially. “The gentlemen over there sent it.”

Allie and I looked at one another, grinning, giggling, and blushing as if we were back in our early days of college. I reached for a spoon just as Allie brightened with a thought.

“I suppose it’s only fair… after all they did buy it…” She smiled and shrugged.

With a grin, I scooped a bit of the ice cream and cookie onto the spoon and turned toward them. “This is a little too much dessert for the two of us, fellas. Give us a hand?”

Tree glanced quickly at his companion and smirked. “Since you asked so nicely. Care to join us?”

We slipped off our stools and tried to look cool as we dragged our suitcases over. The waitress appeared as if she’d know what was happening, bringing the dessert over to the new table, depositing it with two additional spoons, and returning a moment later with our abandoned drinks. Tree stood up and held out a chair for Allie then one for me. He stepped around the table and slipped into the booth next to Curls.

I’d gotten a decent look at Tree when he’d helped with my luggage. Now, I had a chance to see Curls up close. His curls were a mix of dark brown and blond, almost as if he’d started dyeing it and changed his mind halfway through. His beard was something between dark gold and faint brown. He was broad shouldered, wonderfully muscled beneath his white t-shirt. But the thing that got me was the way that his smile made his dark blue eyes go crinkly at the corners.

He picked up a spoon and tapped it against the side of the skillet. “I’m Kenny, by the way. Kenny Omega.”

“That is an unforgettable name,” I said with a half-smile. “Much more interesting than my own. Leigh Keene.”

“Not unforgettable at all,” he returned, scooping some of the cookie and ice cream and taking a bite. “Jesus Christ, Hangman, we should have gotten another one of these for ourselves.”

I watched Allie tilt her head and look over at Tree. “Hangman?”

Tree looked a little sheepish. “Nickname.” He held his hand out over the table. Jesus, it was a big hand. “Adam Page.”

I shook his hand and grinned over at Allie, surprised that she was almost silent. “This is Allie Mason. She’s usually much more talkative. But she’s in shock at the moment. You see, a fortune teller told her once to beware the man who bought her an ice cream cookie.”

Adam’s baby blue eyes went wide. “Really. Well, Kenny’s paying so beware him.”

Kenny bounced his head side to side in agreement, trying to swallow his food. He pointed his spoon at me. “You haven’t been warned about gentlemen buying you treats, have you?”

“Me? Oh, no. Well… gentlemen, yes. But I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

The table was silent for a split second. Allie trod on my foot beneath the table. Then, Adam let out a deep laugh, hiding his mouth behind his fist. “I like her.”

I shrugged. “Nice of you, Adam. But Allie here needs protecting from Kenny.” I leaned into my friend, trying to get her to talk. “What was it, exactly, that the fortune teller told you? Wasn’t it something about beware the cookie purchaser but not…” I looked up at Adam beneath my lashes, making a guess, “cowboys? Didn’t she say cowboys were lucky?”

------

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @not-that-kinda-gurl08

#the christmas that wasn't #mox-made-me-do-it #adam page #hangman page #hangman adam page #kenny omega #kenny omega fanfiction #adam page fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #multi-chapter #real person fanfiction

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queermediastudies · 4 years ago

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The Boys in the Band

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The 2020 Netflix film, The Boys in the Band, is a film revival of gay media breakout play by the same name from 1968 where seven gay men gather for a birthday party for games and merriment that turns vaguely sour when each man is faced with buried feelings and painful truths. This film features seven gay characters, played by actual gay men, as well as two black men by which the film dives into issues of intersectionality and colorism. There are two people of color featured in this film with an on-screen cast of eight, meaning people of color comprise only 25% of the cast. According to a study discussed by Alfred L. Martin, “LGBT characters of color make up...23% on streaming platform originals” (2018), which although contributes to representation, this limited scope serves to perpetuate stereotypes regarding LGBTQ+ people of color. In short, the film opens up at one man's, Michael’s, apartment where he is chatting with his partner, Donald, and preparing for the birthday party in honor of their dear friend, Harold, when he receives a desperate and emotional call from a former college roommate, Alan. Alan insists he needs to speak with Michael about something, and Michael extends a reluctant and brief invite to the beginning of the party; fearing the consequences of Alan learning that he and his friends are all gay men. Over the course of the evening Michael’s friends begin to arrive at his home including Emory, Hank, Larry, and Bernard, followed closely by Alan, who minutes before he arrived called again to cancel. When Alan arrives, he is ushered in by Hank, who is mistaken by Alan to be heterosexual, where he sees the other six men dancing on the porch to “Heat Wave,” realizing that the other men may be potentially queer and appearing clearly uncomfortable. Alan begins to become agitated by Emory’s flamboyant and feminine behavior, to which Michael suggests they talk in the privacy of the bedroom but the conversation leads nowhere and it is clear that Alan is holding something back. Following their chat, Alan and Michael return to the guests and Alan’s frustration with Emory peaks and Alan strikes Emory in the face multiple times and shouts gay slurs at him. Shortly following the physical altercation between the two men, the guest of honor, Harold arrives as well is his “gift” of a young gay boy dressed as a shirtless cowboy who sings a birthday song and gives him a kiss. Alan becomes sick to his stomach and Hank follows him to the restroom to make sure he is alright, and the other men begin chatting and taking digs at themselves and each other to pass the time. Eventually, Hand and Alan return to the party, where a unique party game is proposed. The game works like this: each person must make a phone call to the one person they thought they truly loved, making the call earns one base point, if the phone is picked up the caller earns a point, if the true love answered the phone that’s two points but if someone else answered it is one point, if the caller introduces themselves that’s another point, if the caller announces that they loved the person they were calling, they got a five point bonus. Quickly, the tales of former lovers become emotional and deep, and several phone calls are made. The phone calls begin with Bernard, who calls the son of his mother’s former employer with whom he had a brief relationship with as a teenager. The son is not home, but is out on a date, which brings Bernard to tears and fills him with regret for calling. The next call is placed by Emory, to a dentist he had been madly in love with as a teenager and his call is disconnected when the dentist hangs up on him. Hank comes next, which is how his gay sexual orientation is revealed to Alan, he calls his own home that he shared with his partner, Larry, and leaves a message declaring his love. Larry does the same for Hank, in an intense romantic gesture. At this phase in the night is when Michael turns the attention to Alan. Michael declares it is Alan’s turn to make a call, and insists he calls another colleague from college, Justin. Michael claims to know all about the affair Justin and Alan had in college, and how he knows Alan is in the closet, so to speak. Alan makes a phone call, announces himself, declares his love, and Michael takes the phone only to realize it is Alan’s wife, whom he had left. This is when the party dissipates, as Bernard and Emory leave with deepened sadness, Larry and Hank go up to the bedroom, Harold takes his cowboy home, Alan heads to the airport to return to his wife, and Michael takes a walk while Donald reads on the couch. Unfortunately, no phone calls are made by Michael, Harold, or Bernard. Main topics and themes from this movie that relate back to course concepts include gender performativity, the hyper-sexualization of gay black men, and middle-class homonormativity. Gender performativity carries weight in a few ways throughout this film, most notably perhaps, the depictions and behavior of Hank. Hank is straight presenting and is mistaken as a heterosexual by Alan in the film due to the fact that he is drinking beer as opposed to wine, dressed smartly in a standard suit, and behaves stereotypically “masculine.” On the flip side, Emory identifies himself as a queen and behaves in ways that are more stereotypically feminine with a higher pitched voice and tighter clothing. Emory’s depiction on screen is also greatly representative of the hyper-sexualization of black gay men. Emory is flamboyant, feminine, and discusses his sexual encounters with frequency and detail. Emory (second from the left) is the individual that begins the dancing on the porch, utilizes a snap fan for emphasis, and lip-sync’s along, emphasizing his sexuality.

In terms of white middle-class homonormativity, each of the white gay men featured in the film lives in New York in a nice apartment with a “typical” life of middle class white person. Michael is the prime example of this concept as his apartment is lovely, his relationship with his partner is homonormative, and he struggles with regular white middle-class issues such as debt. This film also actively strays away from these concepts in many ways, demonstrating the diversity of characters and noting intersectionality. For example, Bernard, the other gay black man in the film has darker skin compared to Emory. Bernard is not hyper-sexualized in the manner that Emory is, but issues relating to his darkened skin tone come into play. A discussion featuring Bernard’s social struggle as not only gay, and not only black, but both and with a dark complexion, made him more oppressed and less desirable than Emory. This discussion hints that Bernard must be more masculine presenting than Emory to maintain his status without falling further into social unacceptance. Although this movie makes excellent strides by depicting gay characters through gay actors, diversifying the the cast, and demonstrating queerness in both stereotypical and non-mainstream storylines, pointing out societal biases, the film is not perfect. This film perpetuates the narrative that gay men are highly promiscuous through the character development of Larry, who regularly cheats on his partner, Hank, through Hank admitting to an affair and leaving his wife for Larry, and particularly, nearly everyone in the film having had a sexual relationship with Bernard. Further, this film also perpetuates the notion that gay men are dramatic and hurtful by depicting raw emotional digs between the friend group, a physical fight, and general hurtful comments and actions. My own identity as a white, gay, middle class, college-educated woman impacts my viewing of this film in a number of ways. I feel that being a member of the LGBT+ community I am more drawn to queer films than the heterosexual, cisgender counterparts and I am more easily connected to the implicit and illicit themes of the film. Being gay I could relate deeply to being in love as a young person with someone who was potentially not queer and not being able to act on my feelings, ultimately experiencing a deep and unresolved heartache. That being said, as a woman viewing this film, there is absolutely no representation which has the potential to alienate the female audience. Further, although there were themes of colorism and homophobia, this movie’s primary focus was still on a middle-class white man, making it more palatable for mainstream consumption. However, the raw emotion and vivid intimate cut scenes featuring implicit sexual chemistry between the men and their past loves was touching, beautiful, and transformative. Seeing queer love in mainstream media, especially in ways that does not suit the standard heteronormative relationship style, brings about a sense of connection, regardless of if the movie is perfectly representative. Further, seeing gay characters portrayed by real gay actors is incredible as many gay actors and actresses are forced into secrecy regarding their sexuality. Benshoff & Griffin said it best, “while there are ever increasing numbers of openly queer writers, directors, and producers in Hollywood today, many actors...still fear that the public with not accept an openly gay or lesbian actor,” and although this fear applies most standard to heterosexual roles, it is even deeper with queer representative roles which enforces the concept that homosexuality is wrongful (2004). Further, Benshoff and Griffin perfectly summarize the purpose of this review as a whole by stating, “although heterocentrist imperatives still dominate the mainstream, queer audiences don’t have to search as intensely as this once did to find evidence of themselves” (2004). Being a queer person myself, seeing representation of any LGBTQ+ person makes me feel a greater sense of belonging, and my hope is that in the not so distant future, queer cast members that represent myself and others in my community will be part of the casting norm.

References:

Benshoff, H., & Griffin, S. (2004). Queer Cinema, the Film Reader. In Focus.

Martin, A. L. (2018). Introduction: What Is Queer Production Studies/Why Is Queer Production Studies? Journal of Film and Video, 70(3-4), 3. doi:10.5406/jfilmvideo.70.3-4.0003

#queer queermedia mediastudies queermovie netflix theboysintheband queerrepresentation

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whereisten · 5 years ago

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Heaven-Sent

Summary: When your marriage falls apart before it even starts, you set off to Atlanta for a new beginning. You decide to face your fear of skydiving. Your guide? Jung Jaehyun.

Multi-part series: Part 1 - Part 2 Preview - More Coming Soon

Part 1

Word Count: 2,931 words

You were preparing for the best day of your life so far. You were marrying the man of your dreams come to life. He was everything to you. He was your reality. He was your escape from the other realities you wish you didn’t have to carry with you.

But then.

It all happened so quickly.

You walking down the aisle to the altar. The flashes of cameras. The look on Chanyeol’s face when you lifted your veil and there was no trace of warmth on his face.

There was nothing there.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

It was as if someone who looked a lot like your fiancé was standing in for your fiancé.

Maybe it was the nerves, you told yourself. Maybe he was stunned by how beautiful you looked.

You felt and knew how lovely you looked that day. For the first time, you were truly happy and aware of your beauty.

The priest began, “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Park Chanyeol and Y/N.”

You smiled at Chanyeol. His gaze shifted away from you and out to the crowd.

What was going on?

The priest continued with the motions and when it came time to recite your vows, Chanyeol was up first.

“We’ll begin with the groom,” the priest said.

“Y/N, the brightest star in my galaxy, I-“ Chanyeol forced himself but halted.

You froze.

The pews of the grand church fell into silence.

Chanyeol looked into the crowd again. You chose to follow his gaze to see a woman in a cream colored dress that almost dared to be white. Her long black hair and bangs were straight as a pin. She was otherworldly.

She looked pleadingly at Chanyeol, you noticed.

And then she saw that you caught on. And, at long last, she looked guilty.

“Chanyeol,” you started.

Chanyeol was caught red handed. But why, you tortured yourself as you wondered. What did he do, you tormented yourself. What could he have done to warrant such a look of shame on his face?

He forced himself to look at you. “Y/N, I am so so sorry. I can’t do this.”

Everything that followed happened even quicker. Chanyeol running down the aisle. The black haired woman meeting him at the door. Him opening the door for her. Her running out. And him following after her.

Never looking back.

No remorse.

He was gone.

You had your back straight and head held high. The crowd was in chaos. Your mother wailed from her pew. Your father was controlling your wailing infant half-sister. Your closest friends were in different parts of the globe and couldn’t make it for your big day, which made you wonder if you had any real friends at all.

Who could you turn to, then?

So you ran. You ran back to the dressing room. Changed into your favorite Shinee tee and most comfortable pair of jeans and a pair of brown cowboy boots.

You didn’t shed a tear. Not just yet. You could hear people in the hallway coming to find you but for what? Most of the people at the wedding were here for Chanyeol, anyway. Your bridal party was Chanyeol’s sister, Yoora and her friends. She was the designated maid of honor. But now everything felt like a lie. An obligation.

“I can’t believe that Seulgi,” you heard one of the bridesmaids say.

You heard knocks at the door.

“Y/N,” Yoora called out. “Are you alright?”

Was she for real?

You didn’t answer.

“Y/N. I know you’re in there. I can send the girls away if you want it to just be me.”

Again, you said nothing. You found your bag and debated how you would escape without anyone trying to bullshit a conversation with you. You really had nothing to say to anyone at this place.

You looked at the window hidden behind the elegant curtains and unhooked the latches. You jumped out the window with your bag and ran to the parking lot to get in your Jeep Cherokee. You drove the hell out of there. Not bothering to look back at what you left behind.

Thank goodness you and Chanyeol hadn’t moved in together yet. Otherwise, where could you have gone now?

You recalled how upset you were when he refused to move in with you or you with him. How could you not have noticed his hesitation? What he had to hide?

You sighed. Your phone was ringing nonstop that you put it on silent. You had missed calls from Mom, Yoora, and Mrs. Park. None from Dad.

You checked your texts, only paying attention to your mom’s.

Mom: I hope it’s okay. I took your plane tickets and decided to take the trip with Terrence. That piece of shit Chanyeol is paying every cent for this.”

Was that supposed to make you feel better?

You only stared at your mother’s message. You weren’t that shocked, truthfully. Your mother was a selfish woman that loved herself more than she loved her own child. She had no grace or delicate touch in all of the years she raised you. It’s no wonder Dad left her and remarried and in the process, let you become an afterthought. It’s no wonder you were so gullible when it came to Chanyeol.

You clenched your fists. All Chanyeol had to do was say the right words and he had you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t love he had for you.

You wanted to believe it. So desperately. That you could have a happy ending. After all of the years of shortcomings and heartbreak in your family.

But why play you the way he did? Why go through with any of this?

Chanyeol was a fucking coward. Seulgi had the nerve to look ashamed when she was a show runner for your wedding gone to shit.

You went from shock to anger. And then, the sadness came up from underneath it all and you cried. You cried for hours, curled up on your couch in the living room. You played your favorite crying song because any sane person had a crying song. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore.

But it seemed like the tears were endless.

You went up to the rooftop of your apartment building and took refuge in seeing the city lights. The sun was setting. It was your favorite part of the day and you felt some relief from the travesty of this day.

You took some deep breaths and found some of the pain in your chest fading. At least for now.

Your life wasn’t over, you told yourself. You had a lot going for you. You were young. Had a successful job as a concert promoter. You could leave Los Angeles. Start over.

And so that was what you did.

1 month later

You were settled in Atlanta. Burying yourself in work. Monsta X was your client, embarking on their fourth US tour. Everything was going seamlessly. The venues were cooperating with the company’s demands and specifications. The band’s schedule wasn’t crammed to the brim so the band was happy. The band performed well. Their company performed well. As the middle woman, you were doing well enough to keep your job. Some may say thrive.

You had some time before the band had to travel down to Miami for their promotions and their show. So you could unwind for a bit until then.

Your co-worker Ally joined you for lunch at a small Italian restaurant close to the State Farm arena.

“Y/N? I wanted to know if you’d be interested in skydiving,” Ally said.

You coughed. “What?”

“I take it you don’t like heights?” Ally asked.

You shook your head. “I’m afraid not.”

Ally sighed. “The thing is I had a session scheduled for tomorrow that I can’t go to. It’s too late to cancel it and I would hate for it to go to waste. I kinda figured you hated heights when you refused to go on the rides at Six Flags so I tried asking everyone. You’re my last resort.”

Your heart started racing. “I don’t know, Ally.”

Ally gave you the ticket anyway. “Look, go or don’t go. Maybe you can find someone else who’ll take it off your hands. Just take it. It’s yours now. Do what you want with it. Sound good?”

You nodded. You put your fingertips against the laminated piece of paper. You read the ticket.

Highway to Heaven and Back: Skydiving Expedition

You raised your eyebrows at it.

You thought about it. One moment you said yes. To try it. Feel something new. Get over one of your greatest fears. Feel something other than the perpetual loneliness and betrayal you felt every day.

The next moment you wanted to hide in your downtown apartment and order Chinese and watch Riverdale. For the fifth time.

You decided to throw caution to the wind and go.

The skydiving place was located in Upson County, an hour north of your apartment. It was a mini-airport and you could see a couple of small airplanes that were transporting skydivers.

You participated in the training session so you could know everything there was to know about the journey you were going to embark on. The instructor Mr. Davies taught you and the other initiates the do’s and don’ts. You learned about the steps to safely skydive. How to put your body in the correct freefall position. What to do in cases of emergencies. Operating the parachute after freefall. How to land. And to actually land.

You were thankful Ally bought the package that included an experienced instructor to be your guide. There was no way you were going to solo skydive. If you had to do it with a stranger, at least it would be with an experienced one. The stranger was paid to keep you alive. Not deterred completely from the experience, you thought you could actually do it.

You put on a red jumpsuit, a harness attached to the parachute, goggles, an altimeter, and a black helmet. Then, you and the other skydivers were partnered up with instructors.

“Y/N! Well...if it isn’t your lucky day, you’re going up with Jaehyun,” Mr. Davies said as he read out from his clipboard. “Get on over to plane 214! Jaehyun’s waiting for you there.”

You liked the feel of your shoes against the tarmac. You were more fond of the ground than ever, it seemed. You reached plane 214 and a man stepped off the plane with his forest green jumpsuit and skydiving gear. He had Ray-Ban Aviators on. He looked like he was ready for a reboot of Top Gun.

And so were you.

He made Chanyeol look like a before picture.

He smiled, blowing you away with his dimples. His dark brown hair was wavy and swayed gloriously against the wind. He was slender but you can tell he was well-built under his gear. His muscles protruded from the arms of his jumpsuit.

Lord.

“Y/N?” He asked

“Yeah!” Well, that was the most alive you sounded since the rehearsal dinner.

“I’m Jaehyun, your instructor. We are going to get pretty close with each other in the next hour. So look forward to it!”

With a smile and voice like that, how could you not?

He shook your hand and you couldn’t explain it. You felt ease. Joy. Hope.

And not like you were about to fly 14,000 feet above the ground.

When he released your hand, those feelings didn’t fade. But they weren’t as pronounced as when you made physical contact with Jaehyun.

No need to get so excited, you told yourself.

Jaehyun got you up onto the plane and you fastened your seatbelt when you sat down. Jaehyun, much to your delight and nerves. sat across from you. You looked out the window and saw that you were ascending.

Oh my Lord.

You felt like a weight was on your chest. You gulped. You began to sweat profusely. You had to catch your breath. Oh God don’t panic, please. You don’t want to panic. You don’t want this. Why can’t you do something bold for once? Why do you let yourself feel this way? Stop getting in your own way!

“Y/N?” Jaehyun frowned. He was worried. He inched forward and made eye contact with you.

“Look at me,” he said quietly.

“Jaehyun, I’m so sorry. I-I can’t do this. I can’t.” You sobbed. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. The nerves and the self-doubt were all at the forefront of your mind and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

“Y/N, give me your hands, please.” Jaehyun, while he looked anything less than calm, sounded so serene and sure of himself.

You gave him your hands and he squeezed them. “You can do this. I am right here with you. You’re not alone. We are in this together, okay?”

Those words. You would replay them multiple times after that day. He said all of the things you’ve longed to hear your whole life.

You sniffled. You wondered how your makeup must look and you shuddered. Well, that was a good sign. You were panicking about something else now.

Speaking of panic, the feeling began to fade. You felt the tranquility you did before when you shook Jaehyun’s hand.

“Breathe,” he said. “In. Out.” He did the breathing as well as he watched you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He smiled. “You’re not the first person to get like this.”

You continued, “I don’t know what comes over me. I’ve never liked heights but I thought maybe today could be the day that I could overcome it. At least confront it. I wanted to try. I do.”

Jaehyun was attentive to your words, your expressions, and everything about you. He could sense the pain you’ve endured. It was written in his eyes.

“I think today’s going to be the day, Y/N. Just wait and see.”

It was time.

Jaehyun opened the exit door and your side bangs got into your eyes. The wind was intense and a little fucking scary. Jaehyun backed up and you got yourself in front of him. You both sat on the floor of the plane. He would be on your back as you guys jumped off.

You looked down. And oh, how you regretted it.

Everything was so small and far away. You felt even smaller.

You felt Jaehyun secure himself behind you. “Ready,” he said.

Jaehyun’s presence was calming. Was it enough to ease the fear completely? Hell, no. But the feel of his body against yours gave you the courage to jump.

And you did. Together.

You yelled. Holy shit. This was happening. You felt sorry for Jaehyun’s ears. Your freaking out turned into laughter.

“Oh my God!” You yelled.

Jaehyun laughed. “You got this!”

“I got this!”

Jaehyun cheered. He steered you guys as you descended.

You were flying. The most dreadful part of the experience was gone. The dread of what was to come. You were in the moment. You flailed your arms, thinking you were Peter Pan. You laughed and felt happy tears leave your eyes.

“Jaehyun!” You yelled.

“Yeah?!” He responded.

“Thank you!” He had no idea what he did for you. He went above and beyond and helped you face and even conquer your fear.

“You’re welcome!” He yelled back.

It was incredible. This had to be one of the best moments of your life. You remembered to give Ally the biggest hug when you saw her on Monday.

When you landed, you almost wanted to kiss the floor. The nerves never completely went away. Hey, you were human.

Unabashedly, Jaehyun gazed admiringly at you. He was so proud of you and even more overjoyed to see you happy for once.

You felt a surge of newfound confidence in you. Ask him to dinner, you told yourself. As a thank you. And if he wants it to be something more, roll with it. Because that’s what you really want.

You were about to approach Jaehyun, who was taking off his gear. He had accumulated a crowd of admirers in less than 15 seconds. It was to be expected.

One girl with a midriff and booty shorts was in his breathing space. Another girl had her phone out, taking pictures of him, like he was a pop idol. The rest of the girls just...looked at him. At a loss for words.

Relatable.

Your confidence dimmed a little. Maybe it was for the best that you left. You could’ve come on too strong if you asked him to dinner.

You grabbed your gear and stuffed it into your backpack and made your way back to the training center to return the gear to Mr. Davies.

“Y/N!” Jaehyun yelled.

You turned around and Jaehyun was running up to you with his bag.

“Let’s go back together,” he said.

“Won’t your fan club be disappointed?” You joked.

Jaehyun shook his head. Was he genuinely confused? “Fan club?”

“Don’t be so modest,” you said.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Y/N. They were nice but if they want to see me again, it would have to be for a skydiving lesson.”

You blurted, “And what if I wanted to see you again? But like on the ground?”

He was shocked at your reply.

You bit the bullet. “Jaehyun, what time do you get off work?”

His shock faded and he gave you a knowing smile. “You were my last appointment of the day.”

Part 2 (Coming Soon)

Author’s Note: Shoutout to Skydive Atlanta for the info! Maybe someday I’ll come visit and get my butt on a plane and MAYBE go through with skydiving!

#nct 127 #nct #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #nct 127 jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 au #jaehyun au #nct fluff #nct romance #nct blurb #nct imagine #nct 127 imagine #nct blurbs

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astarkey · 5 years ago

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Quarantine Tag Game

I’ve been tagged by @otto-woods to do this, too! Thank you so much for tagging me!!! 😁💖

If you’re staying home, who’s there with you? My sister, my mom, and my dog (because I’m considering her as a person, lol)

Are you staying at home from school/work? No. I’ve been stuck in the house for years haha.

Are you a homebody? Yes! Most definitely lol.

An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled? Umm, not really. I wanted to go to this lake house a couple weekends ago to get out of the house and draw, but then this happened, and right when I wanted to change and get out of the house more! Lol. Also I was prepping up for an art show my town does annually during the spring, but I don’t even know if that’s even gonna happen any time soon, so I’m pretty sure that’s cancelled. At least I have more time to work on my art so I can actually be prepared and ready next time to show my work to the public.

What movies have you watched recently? I’ve been watching Napoleon Dynamite, Bedazzled (2000 version), Nacho Libre, Fools Rush In, Clerks, The Nutty Professor (1996 version), Wish Upon a Star, Romeo Must Die, Just Friends, Malibu’s Most Wanted, Desperado, The Cable Guy, Sleepless in Seattle, One Fine Day, Moonstruck, You’ve Got Mail, Practical Magic, Blades of Glory, Hot Rod, The Cutting Edge, and From Dusk Till Dawn. And it’s like all of that on rotation every day lol.

What shows are you watching lately? Dispatches from Elsewhere, The Magicians (that’s over now), Malcolm in the Middle, Seinfeld, Black Books, The IT Crowd, Cowboy Bebop, Westworld, just finished a rewatch of From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series, and soon I’ll be watching the new season of Killing Eve.

What music are you listening to? Lately, a couple songs from Pearl Jam, Tony! Toni! Toné!, Doja Cat, Snoh Aalegra, Candlebox, Alice in Chains, Camp Lo, Tito & Tarantula, JoJo, Anderson .Paak, Usher, Mad Season, Deftones, and Soul Decision.

What are you reading? Nothing at the moment.

What are you doing for self-care? Doing what I’ve been normally doing every day. Sleeping, playing video games, making drinks and making cookies, going on photoshop, even though now I’ve been regularly going on photoshop working on my art project I started on almost a month ago because I wanted to get back to doing art again (mainly animating), so I’ve been keeping busy with that. I don’t know, but to me, it’s kind of important to keep yourself busy. Like trust me, I haven’t done much but sleep for 2 years; it is NOT fun at all lol. You start to realize a lot of things if you’ve gone for years not doing anything, but sleep, so this year, before the coronavirus mess even started, I wanted to start work again and getting back to that cycle I used to have when I was in college, so yeah!

I tag @bloodychamber , @millavodello, @the-highest-most-exalted-one, @eternaltao, @flowerydawn, @captain-k-jones, @meredithharlow, @bustedandblue, @onyxheartbeat, @etgoddess, @wandering-around-the-world8, @youbecool, and anyone else who wants to do this (or it’s cool that anyone I’ve tagged don’t want to do this! Won’t hurt my feelings haha!) 💜

I hope that you and everyone else, and anyone else who’s reading this, are safe and okay through this difficult time!! 🙏🏽💖

#otto woods #personal #I forgot about the shows question and quickly added it in lol #I thought I was forgetting something!

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

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Second Chances - Ch. 26

Seeking Forgiveness

Warnings: swearing

Word count: ~6800

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You stir awake in the morning, the sunlight streaming through the leaves amidst the song of birds. If you weren’t stuck in this horrible clearing of Beaver Hollow, you’d enjoy this moment. You reach for Arthur, but your hand falls onto the cot. Opening your eyes, you see he’s not there, nor is he in the tent. Upon further inspection of the camp, you find he’s left camp entirely, but he had neglected to tell anyone where he was going or what he was doing.

Not wanting to be trapped here alone again, you head over to Rannoch with the intention to leave. An obstacle appears in the form of Grimshaw. Turns out Pearson’s too drunk to cook again and everyone liked whatever you had done to the stew a few days ago, so she wants you to make it again. You almost tell her no and that you’re going out to do a job, but the thought of bringing in at least one good thing to camp stops you. Sighing, you nod and go to the table.

The day passes slowly as you prepare the stew, using what ingredients you can. Sadie marches passed with a repeater in hand, prepared to take guard duty. She gives you a brief greeting, which you return. Javier walks by, staring at you coldly. It surprises you.

“Hello, Javier,” you say lightly, trying to sound neutral.

“Y/N. There are rumors that you and Arthur have been going behind Dutch’s back. This is the time we need to stick with him.”

“Who’s saying these rumors?” you demand. “And where’s the proof?”

“You two have hardly been in camp, and after that thing with John. All Dutch asks is for us to be loyal.”

“And where’s his loyalty to us?” you snap. “We are the ones risking our necks to get us out there, all Dutch does is sit in his tent and talk about a plan he hasn’t bothered to share with any of us. So where’s the loyalty to the ones doing the real work?”

Javier glares at you. “That isn’t the way it works, Y/N. Maybe if you had been more often or been with us longer, you’d understand.”

He stalks away, leaving you shaken. You’ve always been on good terms with Javier, yet here he is acting like you’re the one causing all the trouble. Turning back to cutting up the rabbit on the table in front of you, you wonder if he’s just frustrated and taking it out on you.

Charles wanders over to the table an hour after your interaction with Javier. He stops for a moment, not saying anything until you greet him.

“Hello, Y/N. I’ve asked Arthur to help out Rains Fall. Think he mentioned you met him.”

“Yes, of course. Did he agree?”

“He did. Just thought you might like to know.”

You thank him and he sits down next to the table, offering you his company which you heartily agree to, glad for some of it.

“I’m sorry that all these horrible things have been happening. I’m sure you’d rather be planning on a wedding with Arthur, not an escape plan to Tahiti or Australia or wherever.”

“Well, one thing at a time,” you say, reaching for a carrot. “Yes, I’d love it if Arthur and I could sit down for five minutes without feeling like we need to be worried about everyone else. Set a date, at least. But it can wait, Arthur and I aren’t going anywhere so we can deal with the wedding later.”

He nods and rubs his chin. You notice his hair, the sides of his head shaven away. You want to ask him why but decide not to, figuring it has something to do with the recent losses everyone has suffered. For the next little while, Charles helps to lift your spirits as you talk.

Dutch and Micah end up leaving by midday, claiming they need to go and investigate something to do with a bridge near Cotorra Springs. You sigh, feeling like a part of the heavy cloud that has been looming over everyone’s heads has gone with them.

Early afternoon and Arthur returns to camp, looking angry. Charles nods to you and then gets up to leave, figuring Arthur will probably come talk to you. You wait patiently as Arthur dismounts, but he doesn’t head over. Instead, he goes to the opposite side of the clearing where Strauss sits on a boulder. He looks up at Arthur and even from where you stand, you can see his lizardish grin. He says something to Arthur, but his back is to you so you can’t see his face.

Suddenly Arthur grabs Strauss by the shoulder and yanks him to his feet. He marches Strauss across the clearing and towards Strauss’s tent. You aren’t the only one to stop and watch as most of the others have done the same.

“Vhat are you doing?” Strauss demands as they reach his tent.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Arthur growls. “Get your bag.” He grabs it and starts throwing some of Strauss’s possessions into it. Strauss watches him, clutching his ledger.

“I don’t understand,” he says in a surprisingly calm voice.

“I ain’t gonna kill ya, though I probably should.” Arthur stands up, still holding the bag. He glares at the other. “You disgust me, and you shame us, if we could be more ashamed than we already are.”

He tears Strauss’s ledger away from him and throws it to the ground, shoving the bag into Strauss’s arms. “That should do. Now go.”

Strauss is forced to walk backwards as Arthur marches towards him, his eyes boring into Strauss with intense anger.

“I don’t understand you,” Strauss begs. “Vhat are you doing?”

Arthur grabs his shoulders again and takes him towards the horses, finally pushing him to the path. “Go and get a job!”

Strauss turns and stares at him, taking a few steps forward. “I vas your friend, Herr Morgan.”

“You and me, we ain’t decent, but those folk. They was.” Arthur reaches into his satchel and pulls out a bundle of bills. He quickly counts them and then tosses them to Strauss’s feet. “Take that and get lost.”

Strauss hesitates, but then he bends down and picks up the money. When he straightens up, he points to Arthur. “I’m-”

“Leaving,” Arthur cuts him off.

Strauss gives him a sad look but then turns away and walks down the path, his head hung low. Arthur watches him leave, breathing hard. You wipe your hands off and quickly join his side as the others begin going back to their chores. “Arthur. What was that?”

He sighs and finally looks at you. “It was time, Y/N. We don’t need filth like him makin’ things worse for us.”

You grab his hand. “Come on, come sit down and talk to me while I finish making dinner.”

Arthur lets you take him to where Charles had been sitting. He sits down, watching you go back to slicing up vegetales.

“Come on, Arthur,” you say. “Tell me what happened. You’ve been tolerant about Strauss and his bullshit until now. What changed your mind?”

He sighs and explains how he went to collect the last debt. Turns out the man died from an illness, a likely result of being overworked in the mines. Arthur had gone to retrieve the debt from his widow, but he found her with her young son, claiming men were coming to take their house and what little they had left.

“She looked at me like I was the devil,” he says, his voice somber. “All I could think of was how Eliza and Isaac must have looked when those men… I couldn’t do it. I told ‘em the debt was cancelled and gave ‘em some money. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m tired of chasin’ these poor people Strauss sets himself on, takin’ what they don’t even have. I can’t sit here and watch him ruin people’s lives like that, we ruin enough already. He ain’t contributin’ to camp, he ain’t helpin’ feed us. It was time.”

You grab his hand, your heart breaking for him. “You did the right thing, Arthur. Strauss has never done anything to help us and we’re in enough trouble already. But you did one thing I don’t know if I agree with.”

“What?”

You smile softly at him. “I wouldn’t have given him any money. If he has enough money to lend to these poor bastards, he has enough to take care of himself.”

“Oh,” he says, hiding his eyes beneath his hat. “Well, Strauss and I were friends at one point, I at least owed him a chance out there on his own.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I wish I could take some of this weight from your shoulders. You keep going on like this, it’s gonna kill ya.”

He squeezes your hand again. “I ain’t gonna die. I got you by my side.”

You smile at him and scoop the last ingredients into the pot. “Well come on, cowboy. Help me get this onto the fire.”

He stands up with a sigh and lifts the pot onto the fire. Once it’s down, he grabs your hand and starts heading over to the tent.

“You’re not even gonna try my cooking?” you say, coming to a stop.

He looks at you and then over to the pot. “Well, I suppose.”

“Come on, I didn’t cook it like Pearson does.”

He smiles and grabs a plate, tasting it. “Hmm, actually pretty good, considerin’ your limitations.”

You eat as you head on to the tent, several gang members lining up to get dinner. Once he’s done eating, Arthur looks over at you.

“You wanna come with me tomorrow? Promised Charles I’d help out Rains Fall, you remember him.”

“Of course. Any idea what he needs help with?”

“Sounds like this Colonel Favours feller is givin’ ‘em a real hard time, can’t figure why. Anyways, I figured we’d stop by tomorrow, see how they’re faring.”

The sun dips behind the trees, casting Beaver Hollow into the cool shadows. The mood of the gang does little to bring warmth to the clearing. You sit on the ground, your head leaning on Arthur’s thigh as he sits on the chair. John, Charles and Javier sit on the log, but no one says a word. You wish you could think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind.

After a while, you get up and walk towards the horses, unable to stand being stuck in the middle of the awkward silence. Rannoch rumbles affectionately as you approach him, pulling out a treat. It’s been hard, being so close to the site where Rain died and having a new horse, although Rannoch has been a blessing.

“You make the stew tonight?” Bill’s harsh voice comes out from behind you. He takes you slightly by surprise.

“Oh, um yeah.”

“Well, I’m… I’m just surprised, is all.” He takes a few steps closer to you and Rannoch. Your horse suddenly snorts in irritation. He’s never like anyone much with the exception of you, Arthur and Kieran before he’d been killed. Bill ignores the warning signals and takes another step forward, causing Rannoch to stomp angrily.

“Watch yourself, Bill,” you say immediately, patting Rannoch’s neck to try and calm him. He lifts his nose, snorting again and Bill steps back.

“Figures,” he spits. “I knew he’d be a turncoat, too.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demand, turning to face Bill properly.

“You know what I mean, Y/N. People been sayin’ you and Arthur have been doin’ a lot lately since you ain’t been in camp much.”

“Oh, and who said that? Micah?”

“Micah’s the one sayin’ there’s a rat in camp. Seems like ever since you and Arthur got engaged, we been dealin’ with nothin’ but trouble.”

“So this is my fault?”

“You tell me, Y/N,” Bill hisses. “You’re the one runnin’ around everywhere. Who can say where the two of you go?”

“Hey, take it easy there, Williamson,” Arthur says from behind him. “What’s going on?”

Bill whips around to glare at Arthur. “Nothin’, Morgan. I just think you need to keep a tighter leash on your woman.”

Arthur slowly walks up to Bill and they size each other up, the air between them seems to crackle. “I suggest you stay away from my woman, Williamson. She ain’t done nothin’ wrong, and if she ends up killin’ ya for antagonizin’ her, I don’t think anyone can stop her.”

Bill grumbles something and marches off after throwing you a sharp glare. Arthur walks up to you, putting a hand on your elbow. “Bill was out of line, darlin’. Don’t listen to him.”

“I’m not, Arthur. Bill’s a fool.” You pause as Arthur pats Rannoch’s neck. The horse rumbles happily again, settling down. Artemis walks over, almost as though she’s jealous that Arthur is giving your horse attention and not her. As he rubs her head, your mind wanders back to how bad things have gotten.

“I can hear you thinkin’, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“It’s just… why is everyone acting like it’s only a matter of time before we start ripping each other’s throats out?”

He sighs heavily. “Like you said, Bill’s a fool. He’s been angry a long time, I ain’t surprised by this.”

“It’s not just him, Arthur. Earlier I heard Javier going after Charles. Charles, of all people! Saying he ain’t being loyal to Dutch. All Charles has done is help out the Wapiti a little. And it’s not just that. Tilly was ranting to me about you and all the other boys, saying you all been causing too much trouble and you’re gonna get us all killed.”

Arthur sighs again, finally lowering his hands from Artemis’s face. “I know, sweetheart. Things are bad. But we at least owe it to all of ‘em to try and get us someplace better. Y’know, that whole ‘night is darkest before the dawn’ bit.”

“I hope so,” you sigh. “I just hope that all this fighting doesn’t come between us.”

Arthur smiles and looks down, his eyes finding your left hand resting near your side, the ring on your finger glinting from the distant firelight. He grabs it, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. “Me too, darlin’. I wish things were better right now, that we could sit down and plan on our weddin’ instead of plannin’ on how to get outta this mess.”

“Me too, Arthur. I just hope that things calm down enough eventually that we can.”

“We will. All things come to an end, even the bad things.”

He suddenly pulls you close so your head is resting against his chest, his hand planted on your head. You sigh, closing your eyes as you enjoy the sensation of his other hand rubbing up and down your back. You fold your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer as you hear his heart thumping.

In the morning, after having coffee, Arthur and you head out towards the Wapiti reservation, as per Charles’s instructions on how to find it. The reservation lies north west of Beaver Hollow at the northern tip of the Cumberland Forest. You both pass a long railroad bridge near a large station which seems to have been abandoned. Across the gorge that the tracks cross over is a military fort. Arthur leads you up north on the trail and you look to the right, your eyes going up the steep mountainside and resting on a boulder sitting at the edge of a small peninsula. An eagle sits upon it and takes flight, his wings glinting gold momentarily in the sun.

The scenery begins to change as you head farther away from the railroad bridge. A swift river runs to your left, the banks going from gray and green to a brilliant orange. You come upon a bridge which hovers above the end of a wide section of the river, which dazzles a clear, enticing blue amongst the orange rocks. An elk somewhere hidden in the trees calls out, his cry echoing through the forest. Across the river and tucked amongst the pines, several columns of smoke from campfires swirl lazily into the sky.

Arthur leads you across the river and up the trail until the village appears. You’ve always known about teepees so you’re surprised to find a few buildings nestled among them, along with wagons. Men and women mill about, throwing you and Arthur suspicious stares. After hitching the horses, you feel incredibly self conscious, knowing exactly how unwelcome you are. Arthur seems tense as well, his hand folds around yours. He approaches an older man sitting cross-legged outside of the nearest teepee.

“Uh, excuse me, sir,” Arthur says calmly.

“You two should not be here,” the man says bluntly, looking from you to Arthur.

“I know, but I have some business with Rains Fall. Said I could meet him here.”

The man narrows his eyes before he finally points to a teepee near a large shack. Arthur thanks him and you both go to it. He hesitates, clearly wanting to knock but not knowing where. Eventually, he settles for hunching over to try and look into the flap of the teepee and say a gruff and unsure “hello?”.

“Come in,” a voice answers from inside.

Arthur glances at you before going in, you following. Inside, the teepee is more spacious than you had imagined, a fire in the center, making the teepee swelteringly hot. Crates, pots and other items line the walls, including finely woven blankets and a large bull’s skull with feathers attached to the horns sits high. Rains Fall nods in greeting to you both, another member of his tribe sitting close to him.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Y/L/N,” Rains Fall says gently, staring at the fire. “Tell me, how is your friend, Mr. Van der Linde, fairing? My son has spoken much about him.”

“He’s uh,” Arthur begins awkwardly. “Well, I don’t know. He’s angry, I suppose. Throwin’ us all into a lot of chaos.”

“Then I hope, amidst all the chaos, you both may find peace.” Rains Fall begins poking at the fire.

“I don’t know too much about peace,” Arthur says.

“Apparently not. Did you have fun with my son, the impetuous Prince? I believe you went on a raid with him.” Rains Fall and stares hard at Arthur, clearly pointing to how Arthur helped Eagle Flies retrieve their horses. Arthur had told you about that, how Dutch had gotten Eagle Flies ruffled up, how they had attempted to sneak onto the boat and steal the horses quietly but it had gone badly, ending with Dutch crashing the boat.

Arthur sighs, clearly embarrassed and ashamed. You squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Rains Fall reaches into a pot with hot water, pulling out a cloth. He approaches another man you’ve just noticed, his face shining in sweat. He dabs at the man’s forehead with the cloth. You suddenly realize why he keeps it so hot in the teepee. He must hope the heat will break the mens’ fevers.

“I suppose I lack the grandeur of a conventional king,” Rains Fall says gently.

“I don’t know too many kings,” Arthur says. He pats your back softly, urging you to speak.

“Um, I don’t either.”

“Colonel Favours,” Rains Fall straightens up, looking at Arthur. “He has already exacted some measure of revenge for the raid. Two women were assaulted by his men.”

Your heart sinks upon hearing this. While your ex husband, James, had raped you many times, you can’t imagine the horror of being attacked not only by a stranger, but a known accomplice of your enemy. You and Arthur both hang your head in remorse.

“I’m very sorry about all of this,” you say as Arthur rubs his nose. “Arthur would never have done it had he known it’d end that way.”

Arthur nods in agreement. “No, I wouldn’t. A few horses ain’t worth it.”

“Yes, sometimes the correct path, the bravest path is the least obvious, and also the gentlest.” Rains Fall straightens up, his eyes show a certain depth and intelligence you’ve rarely seen. “I’m a great disappointment to my son.”

“Your son seems to want a war,” Arthur says.

“My son thinks there is glory in death. I saw death being handed out so freely by the most foolish of men, I never could equate it with victory.”

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” Arthur admits. “For a whole lot of dumb reasons, I ain’t never seen much glory in it.”

“Perhaps we could go for a ride. Discuss a few things. Your friend is more than welcome to come.”

Arthur nods, squeezing your hand as Rains Fall leads you out of the teepee.

“I’m an old man,” Rains Fall continues. “All my life, I have tried to bring peace. Perhaps you both can take pity on my plight. It won’t take long.”

Arthur pauses and looks at you, as though questioning whether you should both do this. You nod, doubting that a simple ride with this man could do any damage. He sighs and goes with you to the horses. Just as you’re about to mount up, a voice rings out from behind you.

“Sir!”

Turning, you see a military man on a huge red roan draft horse approaching. Rains Fall nods in recognition and welcomes the man.

“Captain Monroe. Do you know my friends, Mr. Morgan and Ms. Y/L/N?”

“No sir, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

Arthur introduces himself and you to the captain. You nod in greeting when he says your name.

The captain turns back to Rains Fall. “Sir. I was just in Saint Denis, spoke with the mayor. It’s not good news, I’m afraid.”

Rains Fall sighs as though he were expecting this. He offers for Monroe to ride with your group a short ways, to which the captain agrees. You and Arthur mount up as Rains Fall climbs onto his horse.

“Mr. Morgan, Ms. Y/L/N, come with me. I want to take you to a sight in the mountains, a place that’s long been sacred to me. A place for reflection.” Rains Fall begins trotting down the trail, you and the others following in a line.

Rains Fall asks Monroe to tell him the news from Saint Denis. Monroe reports that an oil company has already been approved to drill upon the Wapiti’s land, but that nothing would be likely to happen for a few months.

“I promise I will continue to do as much as I can,” Monroe finishes. He then glances back at Arthur. “Mr. Morgan, would you have time to help me? It would be better if certain actions were taken by friends outside the tribe.”

“Of course,” he replies.

“I will too.” You say.

Monroe thanks you but then warns that some of the work may be potentially dangerous. You just chuckle. “You clearly don’t know nothin’ about me, captain.”

“I suppose not, but I appreciate your eagerness. Come meet me on the reservation when you can. Anyway, I won’t take up any more of your time, sir.” Monroe kicks his horse into a canter and runs down the path which leads to the long railroad bridge. Rains Fall lifts his hand in farewell.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says after a moment, “but I am going to look for some herbs that might help some of my people. The army has been making things difficult for us, but I’ll go more into that later.”

The group heads on a little further up the path and up ahead on the foot of a mountain, something large and gray is moving. As you approach it, Rains Fall says, “You see those wolves up ahead?”

As you get closer, you can see the wolves feasting on a horse.

“Brutality and beauty are both all around us,” Rains Fall continues in his calm manner as he leads you both up the fork in the road. “So often, though, we’re unable to see past our own grievances. I try to teach this to my son.”

As the group approaches the wolves, they stop eating and growl, lowering their ears.

“Don’t shoot them,” Rains Fall warns. “They may not be a threat.”

As he predicted, the wolves snarl once and then run off into the forest, abandoning their kill.

Rains Fall leads you both further up the path until there is another fork in the road, traveling up the side of the mountain. “We can talk if either of you want, but please don’t feel like you have to. It’s a beautiful ride ahead if you need time to think.”

“Well,” Arthur begins, “we don’t know you too well, but I wanted to speak to you about your son. I figure you know something about Dutch.”

“A little, your friend Charles told me about him.” Rains Fall leads you off the path towards a rather steep area of the mountain. He heads over to a copse of bushes and stops to gather herbs. Looking around, you once again see the large boulder on the lip of the peninsula. The view is breathtaking as it sweeps across the Grizzlies and the Cumberland Forest. You feel an immense sense of peace, something you’ve seldom felt since the bank job that ended in Hosea and Lenny’s deaths.

Rains Fall slides the herbs into his satchel and gets back onto his horse. Arthur, who had been admiring the view as well, turns back to Rains Fall.

“I don’t know why Dutch is gettin’ involved in your situation,” he says. “This ain’t easy to say, but I don’t trust that he’s got your son’s best interests at heart.”

“So what can we do?” Rains Fall asks.

“I don’t rightly know. I just thought you should be aware.”

“Ah, I understand. What do you think, Y/N?”

You’re caught by surprise that Rains Fall would ask your opinion as he leads you both up the path again. “Well, I only been runnin’ with Dutch a few months. Before, he always seemed like he genuinely cared for everyone, but now he just seems to want a fight. Much like your son but for different reasons, I think. He’s changed a lot since I first met him, but I agree with Arthur. Just be aware of him and try to steer your son away from him, if you can. I don’t think Dutch has any good intentions in mind.”

“Well, thank you. Both of you. I appreciate the warning.”

The three of you continue traveling along the path once more as the path winds east along the mountain. It rounds to the left, opening up to a spectacular view. You’re sure you can see Lemoyne from this vantage point. The sun beats down pleasantly as you admire the view.

Arthur suddenly brings you out of your own head. “I had a son once. Years ago. Don’t talk about him much.”

“What was his name?” Rains Fall asks.

“Isaac.” Arthur tells the story he had told you, of how he had met a waitress named Eliza and she had gotten pregnant. He also explains how he promised to do right by them, despite her knowing what kind of life he led. You can’t help your heart tugging painfully when he describes finding their graves after they were murdered for nothing more than ten dollars.

Rains Fall pulls off the path again as Arthur finishes telling his story. He dismounts and picks some ginseng, putting it into his satchel. “I appreciate you both coming with me to pick these herbs,” he says gently. “And I’m sorry about your son, Mr. Morgan.”

“It hardened me,” Arthur says. “Feelin’ that kind of pain. But I know now you don’t get to live a bad life and have good things happen to you. That’s why I’m tryin’ harder this time.” He looks pointedly at you when he says this. It does not go unnoticed by Rains Fall as he mounts up again.

“I think you’re being hard on yourself, Mr. Morgan.”

“Maybe,” Arthur says as he follows Rains Fall down the path again. “All I can do now is try to make some things right. Try to earn the good things I got and the ones I want.”

“Arthur,” you say with a soft smile. “I’m hardly a desirable prize.”

He grunts something you can’t hear as Rains Fall calls back to you from up ahead on the path, which is rounding to the right. “I think you underestimate yourself, Ms. Y/L/N. The way Arthur here looks at you makes me think he believes otherwise.”

You feel your cheeks burn at this comment and Arthur looks at you over his shoulder, winking. You can see his cheek is pink.

“Well, I done bad things too.” You kick Rannoch to walk side by side with Artemis so you can better talk with Rains Fall. Something about this man makes you want to trust him, to open up about your past. You tell him about your father and his abusive ways to try and raise you, your passive mother who let him, your cousin and then about James, who your father bribed with money to marry you and how he constantly attacked you.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” you say, shaking a little from your story. “So I finally shot my husband and was still so enraged that I went to my parents’ house. Shot my father and… tied my mother up before setting the house on fire. That was the thing I regret doing the most. At least my father’s and James’s deaths were quick. Hers wasn’t. I wish I had just shot her too.”

“Hmm, anger is a powerful emotion, especially when it’s grown from that sort of pain,” Rains Fall says.

“Sure. I’m just surprised Arthur still wants to marry me when he knows exactly how I killed my last husband.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t foolish or cruel enough to treat you like that, darlin’.”

You smile at him as the path winds into a switchback, going down the mountain. A few more moments pass in silence, allowing you to admire the sweeping landscape, marking the Heartlands.

“That feller Monroe,” Arthur says. “How do you know him?”

“Captain Monroe was reassigned here from a regiment in the north. The news of our conflict has spread all the way to Washington. He’s a good man and he wants to help. The army aren’t all bad men, just as my people aren’t all good. But this Colonel Favours, he walks an old line. He’s obstinate, and he hates Monroe. I just hope we can work things out between us.”

Rains Fall goes silent as the path evens out and goes west. You can see that it travels up between two peaks of the mountain, where a copse of pines grow. The group goes up it and smoke rises from the trees. You’re expecting to see a campfire as a source of the smoke. Instead you see some of the pines have been burned and among them sits a Wapiti hut, charred to the point that only the branched structure still stands with tatters of the coverings on it.

Upon seeing it, Rains Fall dismounts. “No. It can’t be. What’s happened?” He approaches the burnt hut, a long, low tune coming from his mouth. Although you don’t understand why he’s making the sound, you realize it means something horrible has happened that has shaken him. He kneels beside the burnt ground, looking devastated.

“No! They destroyed everything!”

You and Arthur dismount, walking up behind him.

“ Who would do this?”

“Someone who wanted to enrage you,” Arthur says.

“Help me look around please. I need to find the Chanupa.” Rains Fall stands up and looks at you, his eyes begging. He describes the Chanupa to you, a kind of smoking pipe. You and Arthur begin looking around. You see a few bottles of whiskey and a bundle of rum-soaked logs. Just as you’re bending down to inspect the logs, Arthur hollers out.

“Over here!”

You and the Chief go to where he’s standing on the west side of the burnt hut. At the edge of the path, the mountainside looks out across the valley once more, and at the foot of the mountain lies a large camp, a smoke trail rising from it. Pulling out your binoculars, you look on the camp. Without a doubt, it’s the army. You can see their blue uniforms. You hand the binoculars to Rains Fall and he takes them, looking.

“These… brave men,” he says gruffly. “They are Colonel Favours’s men. They must have been the ones who did this.”

“Are you surprised this happened?” Arthur asks. He lowers his binoculars.

“Not at all, but I hoped we were past this.”

“Well you got land they want, land with oil.”

“But they were the ones who moved us here,” Rains Fall says, clearly confused. “They’ve taken everything we had. I signed three treaties myself and they’ve broken each one. Now they’ve taken the last hope, and my people will want a war.”

“This Chanupa,” Arthur says. “If we get it back, will it makes things better?”

“Some. It will at least deter my people from demanding we fight.”

“Then I’ll go,” Arthur says. “I’ll go in the camp and look.”

“Me too,” you say.

“Thank you, both of you. But please, try not to hurt anyone. Their dead will not help my people.”

You nod and head down the path with Arthur on foot. The path leads into another switchback until it slopes out to a less steep decline. You and Arthur hide in the cover of the boulders and sparse bushes that dot the land, sneaking your way closer to the camp.

When you’re close, you both stop and observe the men. There’s only about eight or nine, three of them sitting by the campfire while most of the others patrol the camp. Arthur takes out his binoculars again and sweeps the camp.

“There’s somethin’ by their fire. Looks like a long rod of some kind. I think it’s the Chanupa.”

“I’ll go get it,” you say. “Cover me.”

“No, I’ll go.”

“Arthur, I’m smaller than you and you’re a better shot. If anything happens, you can take them down quicker. I’ll try to be quiet though.”

He sighs but lets you go. You scurry from your boulder to a bush and wait for the nearest patrol to you walk a little further away. Dashing into the camp, you sidle between a tent and a wagon. As you’re tip toeing on the side of the tent, you hear someone inside of it snort as though waking up. You hear the sounds of him getting up and walking towards the front, causing you to flit to the back again in case he comes to your side. He does, and you watch, peaking around the corner, until he’s gone.

You sneak up to the front of the tent again, which isn’t far from the campfire. The three men sitting around it talk unconcerned.

“I heard old Favours was trying to get him transferred. Don’t like him much,” one says. You creep up to the front of the tent and peak around to see the men. Two of them have their backs to you but one could easily see you from the corner of his eye if you move too quickly. You take a few seconds and look around the area, spotting a long pipe in a colorful leather sheath. It must be the Chanupa.

“He always seemed like a decent fellow,” another man responds.

“That’s exactly the problem.”

The man whose side is facing you turns his head away to scratch his neck. You take the chance and dart forward quickly, grabbing the Chanupa and retreating back to the cover of the tent. Standing to the side of it again, you pause again to make sure you weren’t spotted.

“Monroe went to west point, Favours never made it.”

You sigh in relief, they didn’t see you. Although your heart beats hard in your chest, feeling like it’s about to leap into your throat, you calmly back away towards the back of the tent the way you’d come. Checking that the patrol hasn’t come around to your side again, you hunch over and sneak from the bushes to the boulders until you finally meet up with Arthur again.

“You got it?” he asks. You show him the Chanupa in your hand. “Good. Fellers don’t seem to have seen you. Let’s get back.”

You follow him up the side of the mountain, still using whatever cover you can find until you reach the switchback. After climbing it, you breathing heavily and Arthur wiping his brow, you find Rains Fall sitting cross-legged next to the burnt hut where the opening surely would have been. He looks up at your approach.

“Please tell me you found it,” he begs.

As you both walk up to him, you hold up the Chanupa and set it in his outstretched hands.

“I think that’s it,” you say, a little uncertain.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’m very sorry about all this,” Arthur says.

“Even sacred things are only things,” Rains Fall says. “People, the heart, matter more. Was anyone hurt?”

“Don’t think those bastards even knew we were there,” you say simply.

“Good, good. I wish my son knew such restraint. My people owe you both a great debt and I’m giving you very little.”

“You don’t owe us anything,” you say.

Rains Fall reaches into his satchel. “Please, take this,” he says as he holds out what looks like a bracelet with a carnivore’s teeth and an owl feather. Arthur takes it from him gently. “We believe it is sacred,” Rains Fall explains.

“Thank you,” Arthur says, handing it to you. You hold it just as gently, though you run your hand over the owl feather. It slips easily between your fingers without making a sound like other feathers would have.

“I must get back to my village,” Rains Fall says. He begins to stand but seems to struggle slightly so Arthur helps him up. “I hope you both can find peace within yourselves.” He heads off to his horse and trots away. You raise your hand in farewell as Arthur inspects the hut.

“Come on,” he says when Rains Fall has vanished around the curb of the trail. You both hop onto your horses and make your slow way back towards the direction of Beaver Hollow.

“He’s different than I thought he would be,” you admit on your way down the mountain.

“Who? Rains Fall?”

“Yes. I thought, being in the situation he’s in, he’d be more like his son. Angry. Even when we found that place, he wasn’t. I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone quite like him.”

“Hmm, well, to be honest, he’s a man who, not so long ago, I would have found weak and pathetic,” Arthur admits. “But now I see him as wise, thoughtful and sensible.”

“I know what you mean. Maybe we’re both changing.”

“No, I think just our perception of the world is. I would love to help him, or at least stop Dutch pushing his son to do something real stupid.”

“Why do you think Dutch is doing it? He killed Cornwall, but you said all that’s happened is Pinkertons have swarmed into Van Horn and Annesburg.”

“They have. Dutch said he killed him because Cornwall had his hands dipped in the Pinkerton’s pockets, shoveling money into them. Said he was hoping with Cornwall dead, they’d ease off. But to be honest, I think Dutch is… just startin’ to like killin’ folk. Exactly the opposite of what he told me and John not to be when we was growin’ up.”

“He’s not who I remember first meeting,” you admit as the horses walk into a thick covering of oaks dotting the path. “I remember he was suspicious of me, but it was because he feared I might be a threat to you. If I had been in the same situation and you’d brought me into the gang with Dutch the way he is now, I’m not sure he wouldn’t kill me on the spot.”

“Nor am I, though I think even now you’d have to give him a reason. Mind you, he don’t seem to need much at the moment. I just hope we can help him see reason, make him see that our situation ain’t good for any of us. We at least owe him the chance, sweetheart.”

“I know, I know. We’ll try, Arthur.”

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur x female reader #van der linde gang #R* Games #rockstar games #second chances #I'm awkward

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darkangeldesignstudio · 5 years ago

Text

Dark Horse

Ok, I know I said I wouldn't be posting this until tonight, but surprise lol. Decided it would be a good time to get sick, so I had to cancel my other plans. At least I’m not too out of commission to post this for you guys! hope you enjoy it. Next chapter will be posted soon after the Thanksgiving festivities are over.

Chapter Ten: Storm

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Death, Attempted Rape, Strong Language, Mentions of Animal Abuse, and Eventual Smut and Fluff

Setting: Post Civil War era USA. Marvel Cowboy AU.

Preface: Your home is attacked by the Hydra gang and you are rescued by Steve, Bucky, and their group. The government agency, known as Shield, wants them captured and Hydra wants them dead. With nowhere else to go, you join their ragtag group and set out on the adventure of a lifetime. Helping those less fortunate along the way, your small group grows and so does your affection for these two rough and tumble outlaws. When the chips are down, will you all be able to escape unscathed? Or will the boot drop and leave you heartbroken and alone again?

Song: Every Storm (Runs Out of Rain) by Gary Allen

Previous / Next

A few more days of traveling brings you to the outskirts of Kansas City, where the group sets up camp. Everyone is eager to have some much-needed rest, but Natasha is restless and decided to take one of the carts into town to gather supplies for the next leg of the trip. Jarvis, ever the gentleman, goes along with her.

The road will be rough going on the way to St. Louis, and you thought yourselves better to be over-prepared than under. Not to mention that you would be traveling through one of Hydra’s favored stomping grounds, so it would be best to make as few stops as possible between here and there, so you didn’t question their decision.

While bedding the horses down for the night, you recognized there was a tension in the air around the group. Natasha had been uncharacteristically quiet before leaving for town, Jarvis pulling her close as they left. Steve and Bucky were tense about their shoulders, and Tony was downright melancholy. A glance to Bruce had you peering into eyes, clouded with sadness and confusion.

Pepper approached after a moment, placing a hand on your shoulder and whispering to you in a worried tone. “Hey, Y/N? What’s up with everyone? They seem so… off.”

A sigh left your lips as you shook your head. “I’m not sure, Pep. I would expect that they are nervous about our trip through Hydra territory, but Natasha seemed to be more sad than nervous. I’ll ask one of the guys about it later. It’s probably nothing, so don’t go worrying yourself.” You gave her a small smile over your shoulder, not knowing whether your words were meant to convince her our yourself.

_______________________________________________________________________

Camp was set up and tents were pitched when Natasha returned. Jarvis and a cartload of supplies in tow. She smiled and joked with everyone as usual - teasing Bucky and Steve, sharing soft smiles with Bruce and Pepper, and utterly exasperating Tony to no end - but you could tell she was putting on a brave face.

She masked her feelings so well, but you could still see the sadness that swam in her eyes. There was a deep sense of loneliness there. One that spoke of heartbreak and loss so great that it made your chest hurt. You wanted to comfort her, but you didn’t want to overstep boundaries. Your friendship was new, a flower only beginning to bud and you were not willing to ruin that.

As you were cleaning the campsite from dinner, a cold wind blew through the camp, bringing with it the smell of rain and ozone. There was a storm brewing to the east. It was still a few days off, but it would undoubtably cause more headaches along the way.

Hunkering down into the tent you shared with Natasha and Pepper, you fell into a sleep quickly as the tension of the day weighed on your heart. You tossed and turned for a few hours until a rustling outside woke you.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness as you looked around the inside of your tent. Pepper was still asleep, a small smile curling her lips as she dreamed, but a glance to Nat’s side of the tent proved your suspicions. She was gone.

Pulling your blanket around your shoulders, you stepped through the flaps of the tent and out into the night. The air was crisp but, thankfully, much warmer than that of the mountains from before. The sounds of a crackling fire and quiet sniffling pulled your attention to where Natasha sat.

You approached slowly, trying not to startle her with your presence. The yellow firelight illuminated her red-rimmed eyes and you watched with a pained heart as she allowed a multitude of tears to flow down her cheeks.

She never turned. Never acknowledged your approach at all until you took a seat beside her. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her into your side in a comforting gesture.

Her voice was strained from crying and her lip quivered as she gazed into your eyes. “Why am I like this, Y/N? I try to be strong, try to forget and move on, but I can’t. I loved him and he’s gone, but I just can’t let go. Why?”

Your heart twisted with pain. You knew all too well how much it hurt to lose someone you loved, but the truth was hard to face. A tear fell from your eye as you pulled her into you, hugging her tight to your chest. “I want to help you, Nat. Really, I do, but the truth is… losing someone you love dearly is one of the hardest to go through and you never truly get over it.

Life goes on. We grow, we change, but we never truly get over that loss because the day we do is the day that we have forgotten that person. But you have me. You have all of us to keep you up and give you a shoulder to cry on whenever you need it.”

Natasha’s body shook with sobs as she collapsed into your chest, fully letting go of the torrent that was her tears. You held her for a long while after she cried herself to sleep. Cradling her head in your lap, you ran your fingers through her hair in a soothing manner, hoping to keep any bad dreams at bay while she slept.

The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon as a rustling from one of the tents pulled your attention from the flames. Steve rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he approached. Reaching his arms above his head, he loosed a yawn before taking up the empty coffeepot to fill and brew the morning coffee.

You sat in silence, waiting for him to take a seat before asking the questions that plagued your mind.

Settling on the ground beside you, Steve handed you a steaming mug of coffee before pouring his own cup. “I expected her to take this part of the trip hard. Especially after what happened the last time we were here.” His voice was quiet and filled with sadness as he settled into his place beside you.

“She lost someone truly important to her. We are alike in more ways than I wished in that regard.” You sighed, staring into the deep brown liquid rippling in your cup. “Who was he?”

Steve’s sigh was heavy and his deep blue eyes were shrouded in unshed tears as the first drops of rain began to fall.. “His name was Clint Barton. He was one of the best men I have ever met and he and Natasha were madly in love.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The sky darkened as inky black clouds rolled in from the south. But rain was the least of their worries.

“We need to split up, take to the trees and run before they catch up to us.”

Steve shook his head as the first blue flash of lightning lit up the sky. “It’s not safe to split up, Clint. They will pick us off, one by one.”

Thunder rumbled in the sky, spooking the horses as they sprinted down the dirt road, racing for higher ground and a place to hide. The baying of hounds weren’t far behind.

“Clint’s right, Steve. If we stay together, it's only a matter of time before they catch up.” Tony shouted over his shoulder. “If we split up, the rain will mask our trail and we will have a better chance of escaping.”

Looking to Bucky, Steve could see the agreement in his eyes and let out a breath. “Fine, but nobody goes alone. Stay in pairs so you have someone to watch your back. We will meet up again as soon as the hounds are gone.”

Everyone nodded their agreement, splitting into groups of two and three before driving their mounts into the trees.

Natasha and Clint rode hard through the woods, sticking close to one another as they jumped fallen trees and swerved through the brush. It would have been an exhilarating ride if they weren’t being pursued.

“Just like old times, Nat.” Clint grinned over his shoulder at her, swiveling in the saddle. His bow was in his hand, quiver of arrows bouncing against his back as they sprinted through the trees together.

She gave him a stern look. “This is no time to be joking, lyubimyy.”

“Love you too, dear.” He smiled lovingly, never seeing the man that emerged from the trees.

“Clint!” Natasha screamed, pulling her gun from its holster. But there was no time. Two shots rang out as Clint’s horse reared up and squealed in pain.

The horse fell to the muddy ground, tossing Clint’s body into a tree as the man with the gun fell to his knees. Dead.

Natasha dismounted quickly, running to Clint as he wheezed in pain. His eyes were glassy and he tried to catch his breath. Clint’s horse had spared him from a bullet, but his loss was a great one.

Clint struggled to his feet with Nat’s help as the baying of hounds began again. Drawn by the sound of gunfire and blood on the wind. Clint and Natasha looked at one another as fear warred with determination. They weren’t going to make it, but they wouldn’t give up easily either.

Natasha’s mare sniffed at her mate’s fallen body as Clint climbed into the saddle. “I’m sorry old girl, but we gotta go.”

Nat’s eyes stung with tears as Clint swung her up behind him and pushed the mare into a full gallop. The hounds were gaining ground on them as thunder growled overhead.

They vaulted over trees and made a mad dash towards a stream, trying to mask their scent in the water, but Hydra was too close and the mare wouldn’t make it much farther.

Clint pulled to a halt and dismounted. Natasha was about to join him when he notched his first arrow and looked at her with sad eyes. “Don’t. You have to let me go.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “No. Please, no.”

“It’s okay.” He pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely. “I love you.”

Grasping the mare by the reins, he turned her towards the forest and slapped her on the rear with his bow. The mare screeched a shocked noise and bolted, Natasha crying and screaming in denial as Clint loosed the first arrow and a hound screamed in pain.

_______________________________________________________________________

You cried silently. Regarding the rain fall outside the covered wagon Steve had moved you to. Nat slept on, her head still cradled in your lap.

“We found her a few days later. Alone.” Steve whispered, reaching out to stroke a hand over Natasha’s red hair. “She told us what happened and then… she stopped speaking. It broke her. And no matter what we did, it just wasn’t enough.”

Steve shuddered, breaths coming in heaves as he held back his own tears. Reaching out, you took his hand in yours. “It wasn’t your fault, Steve. Hydra is the only one to blame for what happened.”

He chuckled darkly, gripping your hand tighter as he struggled with the words. “I know, but it's hard to not blame myself. She was such a bright ray of sunshine, always happy smiling and laughing. And singing… she could sing birds out of the trees if she wanted to. But, after Clint…”

“I know what you mean.” You sighed, remembering the sadness from your own loss. “I was the same way when my mother died. I was so lonely and I didn’t know how to talk about it. It’s hard, losing someone you love so much.”

“Let me guess, Bodaway changed that for you?” His smile was brighter when you laughed.

“Yeah, the little heathen was tired of my moping and took me on a ride I will never forget.” You laughed, remembering how much you screamed and yelled on Boda’s wild romp through the countryside. “He scared a few years off my life that day, but it snapped me out of my depression.”

Steve smirked down at you, his eyes sparking with laughter. “It was the same with Natasha. When we came across Krasavitsa, she became a bit obsessed with the little mare. Taming her brought some of the fire back and she smiles a lot more now.”

“She still doesn’t sing though. Does she?” You whispered, sadness swimming in your eyes at the loss of such a beautiful voice.

Steve stared out into the rain as a sad sigh escaped his lips. “No.”

_______________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, you were sitting at the back of the wagon just observing the rain fall when you heard Natasha shift.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Natasha’s voice was strained from sleep and crying prior to that. It made your heart hurt, remembering her sad face and whispered words.

“Not much. A storm rolled in after you fell asleep and Steve helped me move you to the wagon so we could stay dry.” You looked over your shoulder and saw as a bright pink flush travelled up Natasha’s pale skin.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to-” You held up your hand, stopping her apology in its tracks.

“Don’t apologize, Nat. I am happy you felt comfortable enough to open up to me. I know I’ve only known you for a short time, but you are like a sister to me… and being there for each other is what sisters do.”

Grinning at her, you saw the happiness in her eyes as she smirked at you. “As long as I’m the big sister, we have a deal.”

You both laughed as Natasha embraced you in a hug.

Sitting in silence, together you waited as the downpour gradually slowed to a sprinkle. The birds began to sing and nature sprung to life as the sun emerged from the clouds. With a happy sigh, you stood and stretched before reaching out to Natasha.

“Let’s go wake up these lazy bums. What do you say, sis?”

She giggled, taking your hand. “I’m game. As long as I get to wake up, Tony.”

A mischievous glint danced in her eyes and it made your heart swell to see her so happy. “Deal.”

#Dark Horse #cowboy AU #Marvel AU #Marvel MCU #western au #steve x reader x bucky #reader fic #MCU #marvel fanfic

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