#turning back time or accelerating it depending on what’s goin
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Minor DNI.
Chapter 8
Johnny and the gang rode up to their rival's bar close to nine thirty p.m. The bar was located about four miles northeast of their own hang out.
What triggered the visit was that one of their own members had been beaten up pretty badly by a group of the Vipers. And Johnny had had enough.
As Johnny's gang got off their bikes, a handful of Vipers filed out of the bar and stood waiting. One of them was Malone, the leader.
"How's it goin', Johnny?" Malone said with a sneer.
"Well, I don't know Malone, that depends on how this night ends," Johnny said, casually walking up to him.
"I ain't no fortuneteller, but, uh, I think it ends with you running back home with your tail between your legs," Malone said, unmoving as Johnny met him face to face.
Johnny laughed mirthlessly. God he wanted to strangle Malone, watch that fucker's face turn red, his eyes bulge and fight for air.
"I just don't see that happening unless you apologize for fucking up my warehouse and beating up one of my guys," Johnny said, his body tense and ready for a fight.
"Nah, you see, I ain't gonna do that. And you ain't gonna do shit about it either," Malone said bringing up a hand and poking Johnny in the chest.
Johnny almost decked Malone, but there was something in his opponent's eye that made him pause. "Oh yeah? And tell me why I just don't beat you down and burn your bike?" Johnny challenged.
Malone chuckled with sense of knowing. "You got that pretty little Italian slut on your arm now don't ya? Wouldn't want her to get hurt again."
Johnny froze, a sensation of dread crept down his spine. "What do you mean 'again'?"
"Oh, nothing. Only that she wouldn't put out for one of my crew. Real prude if you ask me. He rough her up enough to tell her what's what," Malone said grinning.
Johnny's heart rate accelerated, every muscle in his body was so tense it felt like he was spring loaded. He moved closer to Malone, staring him hard in the eyes. "You touch her, you die. And the fucker that did it, he's already dead."
Malone shrugged his shoulders. "Funny thing is, I forgot his name. And if that slut tells you it, she's the one who is dead, John. You wanna risk that?"
Johnny clenched his jaw. He was holding back with every ounce of will power he could summon. "This isn't over, Malone," he finally said, turning around and walking back to his bike.
"Look at that Vipers, a Vandal being a coward over some pussy!" Malone shouted, causing an uproar of laughter from the Viper gang. Benny came up beside Johnny and said, "Forget it, man, they ain't worth it."
Johnny settled back on his bike and look Benny dead in the eyes. "Nah, I'm not gonna forget this. You find the name of the prick that hurt Amelia. That's all that I want right now. I'll deal with Malone in my own way."
With that, Johnny revved his bike, telling the other Vandals it was time to go.
#tom hardy#tom hardy fanfiction#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy fan fic#johnny#the bikeriders#chicago vandals
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TF2 Secret Santa 2019!
Merry Christmas/Smissmas @trashiny-draws!!! I was your Secret Santa this year! I heard you really love Scout and specifically fanfics of Scout so I did my best to make sure you got exactly that this holiday!
You offered so many great prompts to pick from so I decided to mash some together for you! I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful day of celebration!
Also, your Secret Santa was super enjoyable for me to write so don’t feel bad for wanting so much Scout content! You deserve it, man! Also, I apologize if my writing is bad. It’s been years since I last wrote these characters.
Prompts I mashed together: “Takes place right after End of the Line”, “Scout is a Dumbass™ and needs help while stuck in the snow”, “Scout completely forgot about Sniper- BIG UH OH TIME”, “Team bonding and being a loving murder-family”, “Dad!Spy”(Strongly hinted)
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“Yo, hardhat! You drifting off on me? I didn’t even get to the best part yet!” Scout tittered, still sitting on the edge of his seat, wide-awake.
“Boy, you’ve been goin’ on about yourself for hours; from how ya woke up to what you ate for lunch. We’ve had a pretty long day ourselves and wanna get some shut eye before we start cleaning up all the debris outside tomorrow.” Engineer sluggishly bit back, cranky from exhaustion but unable to put any real heat into it. His eyes were clearly burning as he pulled his goggles off his face to rest along his neck, pinching the bridge of his nose to dispel the ache bundled there. With a sigh, he tried a little more gently as he met the runner’s gaze again, “You reckon you can wrap your story up soon, son?”
Scout took a quick glance around the dining hall and only then just noticed how worn out everyone looked. Medic, Spy, and Heavy looked bored. Tired bored. Demo and Soldier had settled down with their hands holding their heads, stubbornly trying to beat the sleep threatening to take over them any minute. And then there was Pyro. Scout couldn’t tell if Pyro was sleeping or still awake since they had been resting their head on the table ever since everyone sat down to eat a few hours ago.
If he wasn’t careful, Scout was on the verge of completely losing the group’s attention. And Scout could NOT have that.
“Psh, fine! I’ll get to the juicy bits then. Now where was I…? Oh!” Scout suddenly leaned forward conspiratorially as he began talking with his hands, hoping to get everyone in the room more invested in his story by doing so. “So there I was, freezing my ass off in the lookout. It must have been, like, negative 400 degrees. Probably. I couldn’t feel my toes, my fingers, or my gorgeous face! But did that stop me from my incredibly important duty? Hell no! I patrolled the crap out of that crappy shack like my life depended on it! And it totally did! Cause, ya see, right after circling the perimeter or whatever for like, the two hundredth time, my incredible Scout-hearing picked up the screeching of that train before it even passed by! You know, the one that almost killed us and all those poor, defenseless cat orphans?”
The room deadpanned at the expectant pause.
“Anyways, that’s when I turned to Snipes like the badass I was and told him to get his van started for us to chase it down. The guy was basically lost without me! ‘Was super busy peeing in jars and cleaning his rifle or whatever--“
“And where exactly is Sniper to back up these claims? I’m fairly certain he would have already poked a hole or two in this unbelievably long-winded and far-fetched tale of yours.” Spy cut in dryly, his stony expression largely unchanged since first sitting down earlier that evening.
The whole room stilled at the question, as it was a very good question.
For the first time in hours, the room stirred as seven sets of eyes (and Demo’s single eye) sleepily searched around the room for the Australian. After a moment, however, brows soon furrowed and heads turned at greater angles as they inspected the hall more attentively. Typically it wasn’t odd for the marksman to be missing, as everyone knew how much he enjoyed his privacy, but the team was well aware they hadn’t seen Sniper since the incident that day. Or with Scout afterwards, for that matter.
At the quiet but unified revelation, all eyes leveled suddenly on the Bostonian who was now sitting with his back ramrod straight at the scrutinizing stares, never mind the dawning horror that manifested quite clearly on his face.
“Scout? Where is Sniper?” Medic repeated the question cautiously, slowly. The air felt uncomfortably stiff as mere seconds of silence threatened to deafen them all.
The last Scout had seen of Sniper was when his van crashed into that rundown building hanging off the edge of the cliff after he jumped onto the train to try and stop it. He hadn’t seen if Sniper’s van stopped dead in the building or if it ran clean off the edge. And if it did happen to be the latter…
“Oh, my God.” Scout stood abruptly, banging his knees off the table with a yelp. “Aow! Oh, my God! Oh, sh- I gotta go! I GOTTA GO!”
The runner was already out the door and sprinting for the RED Bread truck by the time someone managed to shout after him to wait and explain himself. Scout had barely registered who it was and didn’t care to as he reached the garage and practically leaped into the driver’s seat to fumble with the keys already sitting in the ignition. He started the vehicle as quickly as he got inside of it, slamming the stick into reverse before peeling out of the base with a loud scream of wheels.
“Oh crap, oh my crap. Snipes, man, you better be super alive out there.” Scout muttered in a panic to himself, foot pressing harder on the accelerator as an intrusive thought interrupted his focus regarding how long the hopefully still-alive Australian had been missing for out in the extreme cold. The runner dared to sneak a peek at the digital clock resting above the vehicle’s transmitter and paled.
Seven hours. If Sniper was alive, he’s been sitting in the cold for seven freakin’ hours.
“Oh, God, this guy’s freakin’ dead! If he wasn’t dead before, he’s super dead now! He complained about the cold the whole freakin’ time and now he’s a Snipe-cicle. The poor bastard barely had a chance!” Scout ranted and raved out his nervous energy, still unfalteringly speeding towards the lookout up the mountain despite the words coming out of his mouth. “I should have offered him my gum, man. Chewing keeps you warm like talking keeps you warm. Now he’s gum-less and frozen to death. Way to go, Scout, you killed a guy by not giving him some damn gum!”
The video transmitter suddenly started blaring from the dashboard, startling Scout enough to veer the van off the side of the road with a terrified scream before hurriedly readjusting right back onto it, foot never letting off the pedal the whole incident. Hardly able to catch his breath from the scare, Scout blinked down at the ringing device before punching the button to ignore it. Whoever it was could wait. It was taking all his concentration to not crash and a conversation was the last thing he needed right now.
The dangerous drive up the mountain towards the wreck site took less than thirty minutes thanks to Scout’s reckless regard for his own safety, the bread van’s engine practically screaming for mercy by the time he wrenched the vehicle to the side of the snow-covered railroad tracks before hopping out.
It was a thousand times colder than it had been earlier in the day, nightfall dropping already cold temperatures to an insanely low degree. Sure, Scout had been spouting about Sniper’s death the whole drive there, but it was only then he realized how very probable it actually was.
The revelation had the runner feeling sick to his stomach, but he still pressed on and attempted to ignore his own hang-ups for his teammate’s sake. Flicking on the flashlight he had hurriedly stowed in his jacket pocket before launching himself from the truck, Scout approached the now dilapidated building with a sizable van-shaped hole. Light snowfall calmly blanketed the ground as he trekked, so thick that the runner had to lift his knees higher from the ground to avoid dragging them through the frozen terrain. Even the air felt harder to breathe from how cold it was.
“Snipes?” Scout called out with uncertainty, shining his light around and wincing at every broken board and tire tread mark he spotted, “You, uh, huddled in a corner around here or frozen to death or…?”
Scout finally reached the end of the destruction at the other side of the building, his flashlight illuminating a hole complimenting the one he entered just moments ago. His heart dropped into his stomach, sure that Sniper really had driven off the mountain and to his death, until his light reflected off a cracked side-door mirror that blinded him.
“Ugh!” Scout squinted with an annoyed grunt, perking up immediately when he realized exactly what he was just blinded by. As fast as he ran on the battlefield, he mindlessly sprinted for the driver’s side with a huge grin of relief, feeling silly he ever doubted Sniper’s survival to begin with. “Yes! Oh, thank God! Sniper, man, I thought you were—“
The runner stopped himself short as he shined his flashlight into the van, the door already kicked open and stuck, frozen solid. Small icicles formed along the roof of the interior, a thin coat of frost encompassing the entirety of the dash, and Sniper…
Sniper was curled in his seat, feet pressed flat against the window, arms braced against the back of where he sat, skin pale and violently shivering. Scout took a step forward instinctively to try and offer help only to squeak in surprise as he caught himself before walking completely off the edge of a cliff. A cliff, he finally registered, that the whole van had been teetering on for at least seven hours now.
“Oh sweet Jesus.” Scout grimaced, placing both hands on top of his head as he took in the puzzle he had to now solve, by himself, in zero degree weather.
He could totally do this.
“Okay. So, time to use that big brain of mine...” Scout muttered partly to himself as Sniper continued staring at him, too ridden with frostbite to speak or move. The youngest had no doubt that if the marksman had control or feeling in his facial muscles, he’d be glaring daggers at him right now.
The van seemed completely frozen, tires included, so Scout was pretty sure it could take a nudge or two without nose-diving off the mountain. Still, Sniper was frozen to the van too, so the Bostonian would need to do more than nudge to get him out.
Okay.
Scout clapped his hands together with determination, his resolution so plain on his face, Sniper’s brow just barely managed to knot in deep concern.
“You gotta work with me here, brotha. Just relax and let the expert get to work.”
Sniper’s eyes widened in alarm as Scout strode closer and leaned his body out over the edge to reach for the huntsman, fingers outstretched with effort before clamping down like vices into the frosty, stiff sleeve of Sniper’s shirt. His weight made the van groan, the vehicle budging by millimeters as Scout placed more of his weight into the front of it in order to get a better grip.
“S-s-s-st—S-top!” Sniper chattered desperately through gritted teeth, seeing more than feeling his van lurching ever so slowly forward towards the void below as Scout strained to gather more of his clothing into his hands.
“I got you, man! Just…! Almost!” Scout grunted with the effort, white clouds from his panting filling the air around them as he finally managed to gather Sniper’s jacket into his other hand. “Gotcha!”
Just as Scout poised himself to jerk Sniper out of the icy prison that was his seat with all his might, Sniper’s van tottered violently forward, dragging Scout with it as he lost his footing from the edge.
Scout screamed from the top of his lungs as he felt himself get pulled off his feet, fingers clenching for dear life onto the still-stuck Sniper in the van as he dangled in mid-air helplessly.
Wait. Dangled? Shouldn’t Scout be at the bottom of the mountain by now, body horribly twisted in metal and covered in broken jars of jarate?
“Well, that was idiotic.” A nasally voice chided from where Scout had been standing just seconds before.
Unable to swivel his head around to see who it was, Scout squawked as he felt the entire van tilt backwards and somehow reverse back onto solid ground, his body half-buried by snow as it was dragged away from certain death like a lifeless doll.
“Danke shoen, Heavy.”
“Mm.”
With a groan, Scout pulled his head from the unforgivingly cold fluff his face had been buried in and blearily blinked up at his mysterious saviors.
“Guys?”
“Guys?” Spy mocked, replicating the runner’s voice perfectly as he glared down in disapproval at Scout shakily rising to his knees, moodily tossing his spent cigarette into the blackness below. “The next time you decide to run off and ignore our calls, I may conveniently forget I placed a tracker on you and leave you to whatever fate your stupidity leads you to.”
“Tracker?!” Scout started patting himself down frantically.
“You will not find it.” Spy informed casually, shaking his head before turning his attention to Medic and Heavy, who had already dragged Sniper out from his van and were carrying him into Engineer’s truck to get him warmed up.
“What in Sam Hill were you thinking, boy?” Engineer came over to bend down and pick Scout back up on his feet, brushing the snow off his shoulders a little too roughly as he scolded him. “Running away without telling a soul where you were going or why, just to end up out here and nearly killing yourself and string bean over there. Did you knock your head earlier today or what?”
“I get it! Jeez!” Scout snapped back defensively, arms flung up in exasperated defeat. “But Sniper’s been sittin’ out here for hours! I had to do something!”
“And you could have done that something more effectively if you simply explained to us what had happened.” Spy bit back, his agitation and concern simmering under a cool, stern façade.
“Alright, that’s enough bickerin’ now. I’m too damn tired to put in the effort and it’s too damn late to be doin’ it.” Engineer wiped a hand over his face before slapping it onto Scout’s shoulder to give a firm squeeze. “We worried about ya, is all. We thought we lost Sniper and you and, well… We already dealt with a lot today, and you runnin’ off didn’t help much.”
Spy refused to meet Scout’s eyes as he nonchalantly pulled out another cigarette, avoiding Engineer’s gaze as well when the laborer glanced over pointedly at him as he spoke. Scout shot the Texan a confused look before Engineer shook his head with a sigh.
“Just don’t do it again.” Engineer patted Scout roughly on the back before moving away to check on Sniper, who was still sitting in his truck and trying to recover. The windows of the pickup glowed red from Medic’s medigun, doing his best to help the Australian along in healing his frostbite. He’d be in perfect health and ready to head back to the base in no time, Scout knew. And thinking back on it all, considering how easy saving Sniper was when everyone was involved, maybe it would have made more sense to bring the gang out with him.
Maybe Scout had kind of overreacted and made the whole rescue mission way harder than it needed to be. Especially on Sniper.
Feeling like a moron now despite genuinely trying to do the right thing, Scout stood and watched with his arms crossed as the other mercenaries milled about around him, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself after rolling around in the snow.
“You’ve got guts, son!” Soldier’s voice boomed suddenly from behind him, causing Scout to yelp when a large, calloused hand slapped his back a little too hard. “Your bravery deserves a medal of honor! No man left behind! That’s what I like to see in this unit! Stop by my quarters later and we’ll celebrate your efforts the proper American way by training! With me! Hehehehe!”
Scout coughed and tried for a convincing smile at the offer, a small part of him appreciating the little bit of praise he was getting that night. He waved half-heartedly after the patriotic man with an uneasy chuckle as he passed him by with a massive grin on his face. “Oh, sure, yeah. I’ll have to try and remember when we get back to, uh, totally do that.”
“Ach, donnae worry, lad. It’s the wee hours of morning. ‘Ain’t a chance he’ll remember on the car ride home. He’ll be bloody asleep by the time we get back.” Demoman nudged Scout’s arm from behind as they watched Soldier march back to the truck to also check on Sniper. The two stayed standing side-by-side and observed for a few moments as the majority of the team hovered around the marksman just to make sure he was okay. Scout found himself smirking a little to himself at the rare sight.
“Like a fooked up family, we are. Eh?” Demo chuckled, pulling Scout into a quick, friendly side-armed hug. The Bostonian allowed it, but made a bit of a face at the affectionate contact, still feeling out of sorts from the whole incident he couldn’t help feeling was partly his fault. The demolitions expert picked up on it easily, however, and released him with a sigh. “Don’t let this eat’ya up, laddie. Just like I said, right? We’re one bloody mess of a family. If yer gonnae do something stupid, ya might as well include us.”
Scout snorted genuinely at that, shrugging but with a small smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. I got enough brothers at home. I don’t need a bunch of dads to match.” He replied jokingly to deflect the rather sappy sentiment.
“A family’s what’cha make of it.” Demo shot back easily enough, earning him a look of surprise from Scout at the sincere wisdom from out of nowhere as the explosives expert idly searched his own person for his flask. He muttered to himself in dismay when he turned up with nothing, eyeing Sniper’s van before giving a groan of resignation. “Ach, mother o’ mercy. Must’ave left the bloody thing back home. Guess I’ll be in the van taking a bleedin’ nap until we get back then.” Demo gave a two-finger salute as he turned to leave. “Nighty night, lad.”
“Yeah, night.” Scout called after his shoulder.
The Bostonian turned back towards the loose crowd still hanging around the truck and allowed himself a warm, heartfelt smile.
Man.
Scout really had to pee now.
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#tf2 secret santa 2019#tf2 scout#tf2 spy#tf2 engineer#tf2 soldier#tf2 demoman#tf2 sniper#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#tf2 pyro#tf2#my writing#my fanfiction#tf2 fanfiction#smissmas#end of the line#dad!spy
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Part I: The Crown Equerry | Part II: An Accidental Queen | Part III: Just Claire | Part IV: Foal | Part V: A Deal | Part VI: Vibrations|Part VII: Magnolias| Part VIII: Schoolmates | Part IX: A Queen’s Speech | Part X: Rare | Part XI: Watched | Part XII: A Day’s Anticipation | Part XIII: The Location | Part XV: Motorcycle | Part XV: Cabin
I have been so touched by your guys’ reaction to this story. These two are a departure from my usual take on Jamie and Claire, but I love them all the same. Thanks for sticking with me and for sharing your love of them. 👑💜
small bit of ;nsfw beneath the cut
Her Royal Highness (H.R.H.) Part XVI: Market
Claire hopped from foot to foot at the edge of a murky puddle as Jamie attempted to strong arm the shed door into sliding open. His abashed declaration that he did not have an umbrella, bent at the waist in the front hall closet, led them to become creators together. On the front porch, they tented a blanket over their heads before darting across the front lawn to the shed. It had been a completely ineffectual attempt to stay dry. Laughing, he had fixed the blanket in her small fists before braving the rain to fight the door. It protested viciously before finally relenting with a groan. Giving him a firm pat on the bottom, Claire slipped into the shed and groped along the wall for a light switch. When she found it, the room sizzled to life beneath a yellow glow, revealing a seafoam green pickup with a chrome grill.
“It’s no’ much,” Jamie opined, rising to the door’s stubbornness with his own and pushing it the rest of the way open. “Pre-war, a bit rusty, but dependable. It should have a full tank and working heat. Ye’d no’ thank me for a motorcycle ride in this weather.”
“It’s perfect.”
He made a responsive Scottish noise of disbelief, followed her gaze to his father’s truck, and dried his hands on his trousers.
“I mean it. It’s perfect.”
She ran a finger along the hood of the pickup, trying to remember the last time she had been alone in a car with a man.
Never.
Drivers. Staff. Never even with Lamb or her father.
The answer was that the Queen had never been alone in a car with a man.
And quite suddenly all she could think of was being Claire alone with Jamie. In another life, her real life, there was always someone else there. Breathing and occupying her space. Someone waiting to dote on the Queen. To select a wardrobe and costume her for events in gowns or well-tailored skirt suits. To whisper the names of politicians in her ear as she feigned a detached recognition of parades unremarkable faces. To select the courses of her meals for her, to serve them on historied porcelain and in cut crystal.
She wanted to tell Fraser that it had been an entire weekend of firsts, but the notion seemed soppy and overly sentimental. So she kept it tucked away in her mind’s file folder, where she was going to keep the memories of this weekend.
The first morning waking up to his eyes studying her, hand hovering over her cheek. Realizing what his first arousal of the day looked like. (Hazy blue, pouting lips, sluggish fingers.) The first shower with a man, slippery hands and soft noises becoming heavy in billows of steam. (His arms around her. The fact that he did not bother to ask if she needed the water hotter, just knowing and turning the hot tap full on.) The first weekend afternoon with a lover –– no umbrella, pouring rain, a pickup truck, the hastily constructed grocery list of two people who rarely were called upon to make their own meals. Though chilled to the bone by the rain, the soft, warm domesticity of a weekend in a kitchen had her floating. (The negotiation of a pair over what was for breakfast, the touch on a lower back when passing utensils from a drawer to a hand.)
Though Claire lived a life defined by the constancy of others’ presence, this was the first stretch of days through which she had not felt lonely in a terribly long time.
Rather than divulging all of these firsts, she commented instead that he looked to be soaked to the bone. He smirked, commenting that he was in good company.
He opened the door for her, gave an exaggerated bow, and earned one of the laughs that sounded so sweet to him. The ones that overwhelmed her small frame –– lifted her shoulders, tipped her head, made her touch her belly as though there were something there to contain, fighting for release. The laugh made her eyes go iridescent –– the color of approaching autumn and a dusky moment of silence before a thunderstorm, the burnt leaves escaping a bonfire to crawl over velvety night to meet sky.
He rounded the front of the pickup, slipped into the driver’s seat, and let the keys drop into his palm from their hiding spot in the sun visor. With a silent prayer on his moving lips and a turn of the key, the truck roared to life.
“Will everyone in town know who you are?” she asked quietly, suddenly a little self conscious despite her bravado in declaring her ordinariness the night before. She squeezed the rainwater from her dress, giving him an apologetic smile as it dribbled onto the floorboard. “I mean, if they know you, they’ll know I’m not your wife. Where you work.”
“No.” His voice was firm, sure, but she asked again. Are you sure? I mean, really sure? Angling his body, he looked at her, really studied her. She was nervous. It glowed through her usual formality. Became apparent in cider, whisky, and firelight. She was stanzas of poetry begging to be written in his hand. “I’ve no’ been to this town since I was a lad. I was a tall, skinny thing wi’ spots enough to make a firehouse dog jealous.”
“I am having great trouble picturing that.”
“Believe it,” he hummed as he put a hand on her knee, rubbed a finger across the small, silver scar that he had identified there earlier that morning. (“Three stitches. Breaking out of the girls’ dormitories after curfew with a few other girls. I was fifteen. I thought Lamb would kill me, but he laughed.”) She shivered. “Do ye want to go back inside?”
“No, I––”
“––to warm up? I can go to the market––”
––she shook her head, licked her lips––
“––just pop in quick for a few things. Come back. It’s twenty minutes there, another twenty back.”
Though her dress had become a plaster cast over her thighs and the peaks of her breasts, he had gravely misinterpreted the shiver. It was his familiarity that made her tremble, not nervousness. It was the sensation that they were meant to be together.
“Turn the vents on full blast.” She shook her head again, this time almost violently. “I’ll be better than fine.”
Unconvinced, he shrugged, turned up the heat, and pulled out of the shed.
In the twenty minute ride to town, Claire learned a lot about Fraser. He could not sing, hum, nor whistle. He could not find the rhythm in a song or carry a tune in a bucket. When he tried to wink at her, it was such a garish contortion of his usually beautiful features that she collapsed backwards into the seat in a fit of giggles. The laughter made the very core of her body ache. He set his jaw every time that he slowed to a rolling stop, carefully looked both ways, and held his breath before he again accelerated. He draped an arm across the seat behind her as he backed into a parking spot as he finished off a story about the family dog giving birth behind the Christmas tree one year.
In the overbright, lightly populated market, Jamie learned that common things awed the Queen of England. So common, that Jamie imagined that shopping with her was a lot like what it would be like to shop with a readily impressed child.
Tinned peaches. (“My father loved them with cottage cheese; he ate them for dessert, and I haven’t had them in years,” she explained as she pulled three cans off of a shelf in her small hands, spilling them into the trolley.) Icebox cookies speckled with candied cherries and nuts. (“I could eat a thousand,” she declared with a guilty look and an easy tilt of her head.) A butcher’s case stuffed with various cuts of meat, the front lined with vibrant green paper grass and the trays sitting on lacy paper doilies. (Her fingers pressed against the glass as she turned to look at Jamie over her shoulder, face cracked apart in a smile. “A pork chop supper? It’s all I know how to cook that’s at all special. It was La-” she paused, offering a smile at the butcher who was taking a bit too much of an interest in his delighted patron. “It was my uncle’s favorite.”)
She became wistful as they meandered down an aisle of baking supplies. “My mum had the best hand at baking,” she declared, voice pitched low. He pushed the trolley, bent forward at the waist, resting his weight on the handle and watching her.
“Mine, too. Hated it, but she was the best.”
Her fingers traced the front of heavy bags of sugar and flour, the scarf in her ponytail swishing with each step. “I was too young to remember much of it. But cakes and biscuits, fudge at the holidays. We had our own house… still Crown property, but not… well, not anything like....”
She faded away. The quiet, rubbery click of her stacked heels stopped, and her wandering fingers suspended just over a can of sweetened condensed milk.
He took another step, pushed the cart out ahead of her, surveyed the aisle.
Alone.
“Jamie, I do not know what to say. I am afraid that I am a little sentimental for some reason. I have not been in a market in years. I remember my mum boiling cans of this.” She studied the label, brows furrowed. “It sort of turns to a caramel.”
He closed the distance, took a can from the shelf. “Let’s give it a try.”
This time, she was the one to survey the aisle, then went to her tiptoes and placed the most delicate of kisses on his lips. “You aren’t the least bit worried that I’ll burn down your cabin?”
Grimacing in mock confusion, he shook his head. “No. Ye’re goin’ to do this over a campfire in the back. Really roughing it. I willna let ye near the stove after the mess ye made of those sausages yesterday.”
Laughing, she kissed him again. When they got home, something inside Jamie roared to life and easily became wild for her. After braving the rain from the shed back to the cabin, her dress had become a second skin. It made her into a statue. An exceptional Bernini, the sensual weight of her limbs barely contained by fabric draped and carved of marble. The curls that had been so warm and dry in his bed and beneath his fingers only hours earlier were cemented against her cheeks, coiling around her throat, charting a perfect map for his mouth to follow. With the bags tipped over, spilling contents onto the floor, he came up behind her and drew her backwards, followed that map, went off course, and poured into her all of the need that dwelled inside of him.
They made love there in the entryway, her body molding over the back of the couch and his hand on her spine. He wrapped her in a flannel shirt after, kissed the tip of her nose. In the late afternoon, she made her pork chops, boiled potatoes, and a green salad as he poured them each a drink. Afterwards, they had fallen back into bed together. Her tongue was earthy with sage and whisky, her lips swollen and her mouth emitting tender sounds. He tasted her beneath the hem of the flannel, her thighs clamped around his ears. She returned the favor with a gusto that made him gnaw a bite mark over his knuckle.
They talked for hours until the slow rise and fall of his eyelids fell, throwing his words into a slowed stupor that eventually stopped.
The rain did not abate overnight.
Claire listened to the landing of every drop, her touch molded to muscle (chest, bicep) and his face tucked close to the curve of her throat.
She did not sleep.
In the earliest part of morning, he woke slowly, eyes still sleepy.
“Hi there,” she whispered, pushing a curl back from his forehead. Bees buzzed in her mind. A thousand (a million) thoughts came to life, knocking against the edges of the hive. With an exhaled “hmmmmm” deep from his belly, his eyelids drifted closed again. “Are you going back to sleep?”
“I’ll no’ ever sleep again now that I ken ye’re awake,” he slurred into the pillow.
His breathing slowed and she gave him a gentle jab in the ribs. “Sleepy little liar.”
“I’m just resting my eyes, Sassenach” he mumbled, cracking one eye and looking up and down her thin form. “Did ye have something in mind? To keep me awake?”
“Once more,” Claire whispered, bringing a knee over his hips and settling against him. “Before we go.”
Once more. Before we go.
He hadn’t the heart to tell her that he had planned on having her at least twice before they packed up, but the surprise of waking to her wanting him was like Christmas morning and his birthday all at once.
The curtain of her curls that fell forward from her top of her head painted a shadow across her face in the waning moonlight. Tightness in his belly made him shift just slightly beneath the slight weight of her. The naked parts of her radiated wet heat through the thin cotton of his briefs. He reached for the buttons on the flannel shirt (he would pack it and bring it home; he would not wash it, it smelled like her now), but she shook her head and pushed away his fingers. She made a meal of undressing –– a slow, seductive disrobing. The last button undone, the fabric fell open and exposed nothing more than the midline of her torso.
A roving hand slipped into the back of his shirt to find her lower back, urging her forward.
“I need you inside of me.”
He grunted quietly in response as she slipped the band of his briefs over his hips, her fingers struggling between the sheets and his bottom to free him completely.
“Insatiable, are ye, lass?” Sleepiness made his voice syrupy and his accent thick, but his eyes. Those glowed blue in the dark, awake and sparkling as though somehow lit from within. She smiled, through the uncomfortable thought that had roused her (going home) and led her to straddle him (not having him there like this), still dwelled at the front of her mind.
“I am. Insatiable.” For you. For this. For us.
“I can see right into yer mind, Claire.” A single hand on the center of his chest as she rolled her hips along the length of him, her throat creaky as she swallowed.
‘Can you?’ she thought. ‘Everything changes at first light. Sunday morning. This life in this cabin isn’t real.’
He guided her body so he could feel her (exquisite, slick, and soft; clearly having been ready long before he woke), and found the ache of his horrible yearning morph into a painful need.
“Is that so?”
“Aye,” he said evenly, eyes focused on hers as he surged into her. She worried what he could see on her face as they joined and she bowed herself forward, burying her face where his shoulder met his throat. On top like this, she was almost too full with him, yet needed more. Her hesitancy made his hips lift, pressing them even closer.
“Christ,” she hissed as she ground back down over him, wondering if he could see the words at the back of her mouth or if he saw only images flashing across her brain.
All of their waiting.
Their nights with Brimstone and Donas. Their thinly-veiled innuendos dropped easily for the other to pick up from horseback. The separations at the end of the night that ached, long glances as steady fingers readied the horses for a night of rest, and incidental touches that gathered a multitude of meanings like arms full of wildflowers.
“Okay?” he asked, one hand on her waist and another reaching for her cheek when she pulled back up, straight, and started to move.
She relocated his hand from her face to her breast, and moved against him slowly. “Perfect.”
All of their hesitancy.
The day he stood before her in the stables and told her in no uncertain terms that he did not know if he could wait for her. When he laid bare his conclusion that what they were doing was wrong as long as she had promised herself to another man. For her part, unfaithfulness to another seemed to be only a petty crime then. To be unfaithful to another, just so she could know Fraser in all that he was. To wear an affair like a second skin for a summer (the season that she said they could use to sate their hunger for one another before she married), and then to wear it from her wedding day onwards forevermore as a crown of thorns.
Her name fell from his lips, pleas to the God on whose name she was Queen, and hisses of profanity followed.
(Claire. Oh God. Oh fuck.)
She fell forward again. This time into his mouth, breasts crushing against his chest as she kissed him. He rolled them, taking her wrists and pinning them above her head as he took from her the sensations she had withheld. Crying out beneath him (last name first, first name last –– Fraser, then Jamie), she let her hands go slack, cinched her eyes shut. She had thought very little of what would happen if she had him without an expiration date occasioned by a marriage. He released her wrists, kissed her, tucked a hand between their bodies, and slowed his hips as she finished.
Pulsing. Gasping. Weeping. Finally.
Her fingers found his face, held it as his universe burst moments later.
Spent, he laid heavy over her, marveling that he could feel her fingertips travel the length of his spine. Feeling remained there when he had convinced himself long before that the mangled, puckered flesh was beyond sensation. Goosebumps broke out along his forearms and he nuzzled his face closer to her.
“What are you thinking?” she asked eventually before placing a single kiss in the space between his clavicles.
“That ye’re no’ ever so beautiful than ye are when ye’ve been loved.” She felt so small against his chest, his hand cupping a single buttock. “Tell me what is in that curly heid of yers. I ken it’s sittin’ somewhere far, far from here.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, adjusting. “I said on Friday that I did not want this to end. Now…”
When her voice trailed away and her face dipped, he took her gently by the chin. He finished for her. “Now it is.”
“Exactly.”
She could have washed her face in a new round of tears at the way that his lips quirked into a half-smile. “Och, weel, we’ll be back.”
“But until then… how?”
Loving him seemed like a felony. Subjecting him to her life. The flash bulbs. The adulteration of this place, the quietness of the cabin and the sleepiness of the town that they had visited. The expectations that would be foisted upon him. She had little doubt that he would take it all for her. That he did love her, but the fact that this weekend was not an infinity rattled her.
He swiped away the line of tears accumulating at her lower lashline. “Ye’re thinking too far ahead, Claire. Wondering if this can work. How it can work.”
She just hummed in response, closing her eyes. “Sassenach. What does it mean?”
At this, he snorted, kissed the tip of her nose. “An English person. An outlander.”
Seemed right to her.
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The Sound of Fury
“America, as a social and political organization, is committed to a cheerful view of life,” Robert Warshow wrote in his seminal 1948 essay “The Gangster as Tragic Hero.” Democracies depend on the conviction that they are making life better and happier for their citizens; only feudal and monarchical societies can enjoy the luxury of fatalism or a fundamentally pessimistic view of life. Praising the gangster genre as a form of modern tragedy, Warshow also accounts for film noir in his statement that, “There always exists a current of opposition, seeking to express by whatever means are available to it that sense of desperation and inevitable failure which optimism itself helps to create.” The gangster’s demise is the purest American tragedy because it is driven by his mania to climb the ladder of success. The end of his saga is inevitable, so in chasing success he is really chasing failure; his self-destructiveness expresses defiance at the inevitability of defeat, but also confirms it.
This underground river of pessimism and disillusionment unites the pre-Code films of the early thirties and postwar film noir; they share a tone of bitter gallows humor; a satisfaction in being wised-up, knowing the score; they flaunt the scars and calluses of lost innocence. Pre-Code movies reflected the free-fall of the Depression, the farce of Prohibition and the dizziness of a society edging towards anarchy. Noir exposed the suppressed anguish of WWII, the anxiety of the Cold War, the stresses of conformity and materialism.
Films like Cry Danger (1951)—recently restored to full glory by the Film Noir Foundation—depict a battered, abraded country that has turned cynicism into a running gag. A man just out of prison after serving five years for something he didn’t do trades sour wisecracks with a one-legged, alcoholic ex-Marine. They make their home in a dilapidated trailer in a scruffy park perched on Bunker Hill, where the proprietor sits around strumming a ukulele and ignoring the busted showers. The vet (Richard Erdman) falls for a pickpocket who steals his wallet whenever he gets drunk. The ex-con (Dick Powell) idealistically tries to vindicate his best friend, who’s still in jail, only to find out he’s a double-crossing liar. The film achieves an extraordinary blend of the glum and the snappy, a deadpan insolence that saturates the air like smog. “What’s five years?” Powell says of his stretch. “You could do that just waiting around.”
While pre-Code movies gleefully portrayed an “age of chiselry,” a country where everyone was looking for an angle, they never plumbed the depths of alienation, fatalism and misanthropy that noir opened up. For all their knowing skepticism, Depression-era films evoke a sense of camaraderie, a shared body heat from people huddled and jostling together—maybe cheating each other, but still sharing jokes and boxcars, Murphy beds and stolen hot-dogs. Noir, by contrast, purveys a chilling sense of isolation and social atomization; not only institutions but individual relationships are corrupt and predatory. There’s no longer a hard-times sense of being all in the same boat. As Kirk Douglas nastily smirks at his colleagues in Ace in the Hole: “I’m in the boat. You’re in the water.”
Noir used unpretentious, low-budget crime thrillers to smuggle this caustic vision into movie theaters during a time when, on the surface, America was at the height of prosperity and social cohesion. Unlike the early-thirties gangster cycle, which reflected a real wave of lawlessness, the crime movies of the fifties were made during a time when the murder rate was lower than in previous or succeeding decades, perhaps as a channel for other, submerged anxieties. Noir’s prophetic vision of disintegrating communities has become only more compelling with time, a development that may explain the passionate revival of interest in film noir in the last decades of the twentieth century.
Healthy, functioning groups don’t exist in noir; even gangs and criminal “organizations” fall apart because their members are out for themselves, ready to betray each other for a payoff or a bigger share of the take. Institutions like politics and business appear only in stories revealing their corruption. The police are the only representatives of government commonly seen, and they are often bullying and crooked, hounding innocent suspects with sadistic relish. Even films that take the side of law enforcement underline hostility between cops and the people they protect. Apart from the justice system, the public sphere does not exist: the town meetings and popular movements that crowd the screen in thirties films, with indignant and excitable citizens marching, rioting or celebrating, are unimaginable in film noir. People seem to exist in a vacuum.
In part, this vision reflects the privatization of life that accelerated in the postwar era, as cars replaced trains; television replaced movie theaters; appliances eliminated the need for servants, milkmen and ice men; suburban back yards took the place of parks, all part of the glorification of the detached home for the “nuclear” family. The homogeneity of the suburbs and the intrusiveness of media and advertising paradoxically diminished any sense of place or community. Meanwhile, Cold War paranoia meant that expressions of communitarian spirit or calls for collective action could rouse suspicions of communist sympathies.
Many of the writers, directors and actors associated with film noir were liberals, often former Communist Party members who had seen the left-wing idealism of the thirties buried by World War II and then vilified during the Cold War. Disillusioned, they used crime movies to indict a culture of rampant greed and cut-throat competition. Thieves’ Highway(1949), the last film directed by Jules Dassin before he left the country to escape the blacklist, slices open the produce business to reveal the rotten heart of capitalism. Even something as pure and nourishing as an apple becomes a poisoned agent of strife when it’s equated with money. A Polish farmer, enraged at being paid less than he was promised for his apples, flings boxes of them off a truck, screaming, “Seventy-five cents! Seventy-five cents!” The apples roll wastefully across the ground, an image foreshadowing the film’s most famous shot, when after the same truck has careened off the road and exploded, apples roll silently down the hillside toward the flaming wreck. When the dead trucker’s partner finds out that money-grubbers have gone out to collect the scattered load to sell, he begins kicking over crates of apples, fuming, “Four bits a box! Four bits a box!” Everyone in the movie is “just trying to make a buck,” and cash haunts the film, dirty crumpled bills changing hands in a series of soiled, coercive transactions.
It is easy to see why the House Un-American Activities Committee wanted to drive people like Dassin out of Hollywood. Films such as Joseph Losey’s The Prowler (another Film Noir Foundation restoration) and Cy Endfield’s The Sound of Fury, (a.k.a Try and Get Me! 1950, the FNF’s next project) are scathing attacks on a materialistic society, unmasking the American dream as a shallow and shabby illusion that breeds crime and shreds the social fabric. (Both directors fled to England in the early fifties to avoid persecution by HUAC.)
Endfield’s stark anti-lynching drama opens with a down-on-his-luck family man hitch-hiking on a dark highway; he tells the trucker who picks him up that he’s been looking in vain for a job. Howard Tyler (Frank Lovejoy) moved his wife and son out to the postwar California suburb of Santa Sierra, hoping for a better life; “I can’t help it if a million other guys had the same idea,” he complains bitterly. They live in a shabby little bungalow behind a wire fence that makes the place look like a miniature P.O.W. camp. Howard’s pregnant wife hates the idea of using a charity clinic, and frets over money owed for groceries, while his whiny little boy begs for money to go the baseball game (“All the other kids are goin’!”) A bartender at a bowling alley sneers at his cheap customer: “You take a beer drinker, you got a jerk.” If Howard weren’t so dejected and humiliated, he would never fall under the spell of Jerry (Lloyd Bridges), the vain braggart he meets at the bowling alley.
Primping and preening, flexing his muscles and showing off his fancy aftershave (“Smells expensive!”), the manic Jerry boasts about his sexual conquests and the big money he makes, and he treats the modest, submissive Howard like his valet. He offers to put him onto something good—“nothing risky”—just driving the car for his hold-ups. When Howard hesitates, Jerry snorts, “You guys kill me! The more you get kicked in the teeth the better you like it.” Their first job is knocking over the grocery store at a cheap motel (“The Rambler’s Rest”), where Jerry easily intimidates an elderly couple and pistol-whips their son. Intoxicated with the easy money—and a few stiff drinks—Howard bursts in on his family with armfuls of groceries. His wife gasps at the extravagance of baked ham and canned peaches, and he brags that now they can get their own TV, and won’t have to go over and watch their neighbors’. “And we’ll throw this piece of junk away!” he crows, pointing to the family’s radio. Soon Howard is buying his wife new shoes and dresses with hot money, telling her he has a night job at a cannery. His little boy sports a cowboy outfit and ambushes his jumpy father with toy guns.
Unsatisfied with these penny-ante crimes, Jerry comes up with a scheme to kidnap a wealthy young man and hold him for ransom. He’s overcome by envy as he fingers the victim’s suit, tailor-made in New York, and after they’ve taken him out to a gravel pit in a disused army base, Jerry panics and kills him. When Howard gets home, dazed with horror and guilt, his wife wakes and tells him about the lovely dream she was having: she had the baby and this time there was no pain at all; “I got right up out of the hospital and took her shopping. I was buying her a pinafore.” Even in her dreams she’s a consumer, subconsciously linking commercial goods with the fantasy of a painless life.
As Howard mentally unravels, the shoddy vulgarity of the culture around him takes on a sinister cast. Jerry shows him the ransom note he’s written in a diner while ordering a steak sandwich (“Cow on a slab!” the waitress yells.) For cover, they go out of town to mail the letter, taking along Jerry’s girlfriend, a glossy blonde, and a lonely manicurist she has dug up for Howard. In a nightclub, he’s subjected to a string of dumb jokes and parlor magic tricks from a burlesque comedian. “Blame my psychiatrist,” the comic quips, “I didn’t pay my bill last month and he’s letting me go crazy.”
From its opening moments, the film depicts the crowd as a mindless and malevolent force, which will eventually be stirred to frenzy by sensationalizing newspaper articles. Crowds in noir are always bloodthirsty mobs, surrounding and destroying strangers in their midst; the communal desire for security is tainted by bigotry and ignorance. This is a dark inversion of Capra’s rallying citizens, or even the all-for-one armies of bums who fight for their squatters’ rights in Wild Boys of the Road. Movies of the Depression era never saw anything wrong with wanting money, good food, a pair of shoes, or even fur coats and diamond bracelets. They are tolerant of people—especially women—who do whatever they have to do get ahead. By contrast, The Sound of Fury shows materialism—the desire to keep up with the neighbors, to make a better life for your family—as a force that corrodes souls and breaks down social decency. The deepest well of pessimism in noir is a distrust of change, desire and ambition. “I just want to be somebody,” people are always saying, but the urge to squeeze more out of life, to grab a chance at happiness, is brutally punished.
Below the surface, the force driving noir stories is the urge to escape: from the past, from the law, from the ordinary, from poverty, from constricting relationships, from the limitations of the self. Noir found its fullest expression in America because the American psyche harbors a passion for independence, an impulse to be, in the words of Walt Whitman, “loosed of limits, and imaginary lines, / Going where I list, my own master, total and absolute.” With this desire for autonomy comes a corresponding fear of loneliness and exile. The more we crave success, the more we dread failure; the more we crave freedom, the more we dread confinement. This is the shadow that spawns all of noir’s shadows: the anxiety imposed by living in a country that elevates opportunity above security; one that instills a compulsion to “make it big,” but offers little sympathy to those who fall short. Film noir is about people who break the rules, pursuing their own interests outside the boundaries of decent society, and about how they are destroyed by society—or by themselves.
The gangster, Robert Warshow wrote, is driven by the need to separate himself from the crowd, but in doing so he isolates and dooms himself. White Heat (1949), which brought James Cagney back to the gangster persona that made him a star, came out one year after the publication of “The Gangster as Tragic Hero.” It took the “man of the city” (as Warshow defined the gangster) out of the city, but Cagney’s explosive death atop an industrial gas tank is the supreme illustration of Warshow’s observation that the gangster’s pursuit of success—“Made it, Ma! Top of the world!”—is a pursuit of death.
White Heat is also a perfect example of what Edward Dimendberg (in Film Noir and the Spaces of Modernity) called “centrifugal” noir: it’s a film without a center, about a world flying apart like the cooling fragments of an exploded star. Cagney’s gang, decaying under the strains of resentment, betrayal and madness, moves between equally bleak urban and rural hideouts. After robbing a train in a rocky no-man’s-land, they hole up in a frigid, creaky old farmhouse “a hundred miles from nowhere,” as Cagney’s wife gripes. Cooped up together in this gloomy Gothic house, surrounded by split-rail fences and naked, rolling hills, they snipe at each other and grumble about their leader. Cody Jarrett (James Cagney) suffers debilitating migraine headaches and huddles in the lap of his gaunt, fiercely loyal Ma. The realization that came to Cagney in Public Enemy as he stumbled into the gutter in the rain—“I ain’t so tough”—is here amplified into an infantile weakness, perpetually on the verge of breakdown. Cody’s frailty only makes him more vicious. At his orders the gang leaves a wounded member behind, bandaged and in pain, to freeze to death once they make their move to a motor court in LA. The motel is typical of the “non-places” (in Marc Augé’s term) where noir flourishes: marginal, transient spaces where “people are always, and never, at home.”
The banality of the modern west makes room for Cagney’s majestically psychotic performance, fine-tuned and sensitive as a landmine. Cody Jarrett crumples inward under the crushing pain and then erupts, and White Heat similarly closes in and then shatters people are either cramped in suffocating enclosures (Cody shoots a man while he’s locked in the trunk of a car, cruelly offering to “give him some air”), or stranded in vacant, inhospitable spaces. At the rural hideout, the wind is always blowing bitterly around the house, tossing the trees; Cody walks alone at night, talking to his dead mother, who was shot in the back by his wife while he was in jail. He tells a friend—really a police plant who will betray him—how lonesome he is, because “all I ever had was Ma,” and how hard his mother’s life was, “always on the run, always on the move.” White Heat brings together the ultra-modern—radio tracking devices; drive-in movie theaters—with the pre-modern, even the primitive. It proves not just that film noir can thrive in the country as well as the city, but that noir was not merely a response to the new—industrialization, the bomb, etc.—but drew on deep veins in the American psyche and the American landscape: the desire to stand alone on top of the hill, even if there’s nowhere to go from there but death; and an accompanying fear of being buried “on the lone prairie,” having no one to talk to but the night wind.
by Imogen Sara Smith
#Imogen Sara Smith#The Chiseler#The Sound of Fury#James Cagney#White Heat#Raul Walsh#Noir#In Lonely Places: Film Noir Beyond the Cit#Buster Keaton: The Persistence of Comedy#the criterion collection
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In Your Arms
Summary/Request: Could you do a imagine with Steve where you guys are so cute and In love and somehow you die you can come up with it thank you!
Pairing: Steve x Reader
Word Count: 2,872
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO, swearing, death.
Authors Note: This is my first time writing Steve and I got really carried away with this one I am sobbing and I am sorry! This turned out way sadder than I intended so if you wanted something fluffier I'm sorry! Let me know what you guys think! Some dialogue is taken straight from the show.
Listen To: Near Light by Olafur Arnalds (highly recommend)
Type in Bold is Flashbacks.xx
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♔
It was a warm day in Hawkins, and the sun shone down on you as you sat at the picnic in table in the park. Around you kids laughed as they played and birds tweeted but you were oblivious, too engulfed in the book you were reading. You turned the page and continued reading when everything went dark. Hands covered your eyes and you dropped your book to the table. “Guess who.” A voice said. It was a voice you recognised but they were disguising it with a rather bad attempt at an English accent. “Grandad, is that you?” You asked jokingly. The voice sniggered slightly. “I’ll give you a clue. Ridiculously good looking, great personality, even better kisser. Incredible hair.” “Hmm. I don’t know anyone like that.” The hands left your eyes and went to your waist. You squealed as they tickled you and fell back into their arms. “Steve! Stop!” You giggled. “Nuh-uh, not until you say it.” “You’re good looking!” You squealed. His fingers tickled up under your arms and you twisted in an attempt to get away from him. “Is that all?” “Great personality!” You giggled. “Even better kisser!” “And what else?” He pulled you off the bench and laid you in the grass, hovering over you and tickling your sides. “That was all!” “How dare you!” Steve gasped in mock hurt. “Incredible hair!” You squealed. “Yeah, that’s right.” He stopped his attack on you and leant over you. You pulled him into a kiss, although both of you were giggling too much to enjoy it. He jumped to his feet and offered you his hand. You accepted it and he pulled you up into an embrace. “Sooo, my beautiful girl, what are you doing tonight?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back to the table. You shrugged and smiled at him as you returned to your previous seat. “That depends, what did you have in mind?” He grabbed hold of your hand and held it between both of his as he sat next to you. “They’re playing Indiana Jones at the drive in and I thought we could have dinner at the diner first?” “Sounds good.” You smiled and he leant forward and kissed you. “I gotta go. Pick you up at seven?” You nodded and pulled him back in for another kiss. “I love you.” You smiled against his lips. “I love you too. Always.” Steve smiled and nodded. “Always.”
♔
“He’s waking up!” Mike yelled. You glanced back quickly before turning your eyes back to the road. “Steve?” You called. A groan came from the back seat and you bit your lip as you turned a corner, gripping the steering wheel anxiously. “No, don’t touch it.” You heard Dustin say from the back. You glanced in the rear view mirror to see Steve lifting a hand to his bloody and beaten face. “Hey buddy, shh. Its okay you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass but you put up a good fight. You’re okay.” “Okay keep straight for half a mile then make a left.” Lucas said to you as he glanced at the papers in his hands. You nodded. Straight for half a mile. Make a left. “Steve?” You called again. You felt sick, not because of the danger you were heading towards but because of the fight you had witnessed. Steve was the only thing you cared about right now. Oh, and the demadogs I suppose. “What’s going on?” Steve asked. You looked back at him and he was staring at the kids crammed into the car around him. Lucas was next to you in the front while Dustin, Max, and Mike were squashed in the back next to Steve. “Oh-oh my god.” “It’s okay Steve,” You called back soothingly. You pressed down on the accelerator. The sooner you got there, the sooner you could comfort Steve and get this whole stupid idea over and done with. “Whoa-whoa What’s going on?” His voice got louder and you bit your lip. Everyone started yelling then. Dustin was trying to calm Steve down, while Mike was saying “I knew he would freak out.” And Steve was a mixture of groans and confusion. “Make a left!” You glanced back into the mirror, hating that you weren’t next to Steve to comfort him. “MAKE A LEFTt!” Lucas yelled again. “What? Oh shit!” You yanked on the steering wheel and the car screeched round the corner. Max screamed in the back as the car spun out slightly and the kids all yelled. “(Y/N)?!” You turned back to see Steve finally registering who was driving the car. “Yeah, it’s me Steve.” “What the hell is going on?” Steve demanded. You took a deep breath and ignored him, knowing he wouldn’t be thrilled by the fact you had given in to the kids and were on your way to the tunnels. Lucas gave you a few more directions and you drove into a field, slamming on the brakes when the headlights landed on a patch of dirt. The kids all clambered out of the car and you ran around to help Steve. “Babe? Are you okay?” He groaned as he fell to the ground and you helped him up, leaning him against the car for support. Mike walked past you both, a rope and a tank of gasoline in his hand. “Hey, where do you think you're goin?” He ignored Steve and knelt in front of the car. “What are you, deaf? Helloooo!” He turned to you. “No, we are not going down there!” “Steve.” “I made myself clear! There is no way we are going down that hole!” “It’s the only way, Steve.” You told him. “You can’t be serious? You actually agree that this plan is gonna work?” You shrugged. “No.. but it’s the only plan we’ve got!” “We had a plan! We stay on the bench, remember!” “Listen to your girlfriend.” Lucas said as he and Max walked past you, both carrying tanks and torches. “Babe, this is dangerous. We can’t-“ You leant forward, shutting him up with a kiss though you were careful not to place to much pressure on his swollen lips. “We can.” You whispered. “It’s simple. We just go in, burn this.. motherfucker to the ground and get out.” “I promised I would keep them safe, that I’d keep you safe.” You nodded and Dustin handed you Steve’s bat. You shoved it into Steve’s hand. “So keep us safe.”
♔
“(Y/N)! Hey! Slow down!” You ignored him and kept walking, your arms crossing over your chest. “Babe!” His footsteps got louder as he chased after you but you kept walking up the darkened street. “Hey!” He grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him. “What!” You snapped angrily. He shook his head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” He reached his hands out, placing them in your hips but you slapped them away. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” You yelled. “Are you kidding me?!” You turned away from him and stormed off but he ran forward and stopped in front of you. “God, Steve, if you want to be with Nancy you could have just told me!” “What?!” “I saw you!” You yelled. “Whispering to each other in the hallway! I’m not stupid, Steve!” He began to laugh and you clenched your jaw. “Fuck you, Harrington!” You shoved past him and stormed up the road. “Babe! Babe!” He ran after you once more and grabbed your hand. He pulled you back into his arms. You squirmed, trying to get free of him but he held you to him firmly. “I don’t wanna be with Nancy.” He told you, a slight hint of amusement to his voice. You rolled your eyes and pushed your hands against his chest. Still, he didn’t budge. “She was helping me!” You stopped and stared up at him. Your eyes were still full of anger but they softened when you saw the love shining in his hazel eyes. Steve sighed and reached into his back pocket. “She was helping me pick out this.” He held out a small black box and you glanced at it. “What is-“ “Open it.” You swallowed and lifted the box carefully. You lifted the lid to reveal a simple silver locket on a chain. “Oh Steve.” You whispered. Both taken aback by the beauty of the gift and embarrassed at causing a scene. You carefully lifted the necklace and opened the locket. Inside was a tiny photo, the first photo you had ever taken with him and on the other side engraved was both his and your initials, and underneath read ‘Always’. You felt tears swell in your eyes and you looked up at him to see him looking lovingly down at you. “Don’t you get it? It’s you. It’s always been you.” A tear fell and you pulled his lips to yours. “I’m sorry.” You whispered as you pulled away. He leant his forehead against yours and you both looked down at the locket. “I love you, Always.” He said. You smiled. “Always.”
♔
“Alright, Wheeler. I think we’ve found your hub.” All of you looked around, shining your torches at the opening in the tunnel. “Let’s drench it.” Mike said. And so you did. The smell of gasoline quickly filled your lungs as you covered the area. You focused on the entrances to all the other tunnels while the kids sprayed the walls of the tunnels. “I’m out!” Dustin yelled and tossed his empty canister into the centre of the clearing. You shook out the last of your tank and tossed yours next to his. The kids finished theirs and you all moved back to the start of the tunnel you had come out of. “Get back.” You told the kids and made sure they were all behind you. You knelt next to Steve and took hold of his hand. He squeezed it comfortingly. “Alright you guys ready?” Steve asked and pulled out his lighter. “Light her up.” Nodded Dustin. Steve flicked open his lighter. “We’re gonna be in such deep shit.” He muttered to you. You laughed and nodded. He met your eye for a moment before tossing his lighter forward. Fire ignited everywhere and you shielded your eyes as the tunnel burst into brightness. “Let’s go, lets go!” Steve yelled. You stood and ran. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Dustin was yelling. “This way, this way!” Steve shouted and the kids ran after him. You stayed at the back, making sure none of the kids got left behind as you navigated your way through the tunnels. Mike stumbled over a vine and you stopped. “Guys!” You yelled. Mike clung to your desperately as the vine tangled around his leg and you kicked out at the vine. Steve swung his bat and hit the vine and it curled away form Mike’s leg and you pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go! We gotta go!” You yelled. But then a bloodcurdling noise filled the tunnel and you all froze. A demadog growled behind you and you only turned in time to see it pounce. You screamed as you fell to the ground and the demadog ripped into your leg. Pain spread through your whole body and you writhed in agony as the demadog ripped flesh from your waist. Steve smashed his bat against it and the demadog flew to the side. It let out a screech and it’s face opened up but Steve smashed it with his bat til it stopped moving. “Steve!” The kids were yelling. They hovered over you, their faces full of worry. Steve pushed them out of the way and knelt by your side. “Babe?! Oh god! Oh shit!” He glanced at your already paling face. Your wounds were serious. The demadog had torn a chunk of flesh out of your right thigh and out of your side. Tears began to stream from his face. “Steve you have to go!” You sobbed. “You have to get them out, you have to leave me.” “No!” He yelled. “Steve you have to! There’s no time! You have to get them out!” Your face was wet with tears and Steve ripped the bandana from his face. He crashed his lips against yours, earning a serious of ‘Ugh’s from the kids. “I’m not leaving you.” He whispered. He slid his arms beneath you and hauled you into his arms. “Go! Run!” He yelled at the kids. They obeyed and Steve went as fast as he could, carrying you through the tunnels. “Stay with me babe.” He whispered. “Stay with me.”
♔
You sat in front of your dresser as you blow dried your hair, watching your work in the reflection of your mirror. Once it was mostly dry you turned off your hair drier and sat up. Almost instantly you heard a rapping against your window. You glanced over to see Steve knocking lightly against the glass. “Steve!” You hissed as you crossed the room. You opened the window and he clambered inside. “Thank god, I’ve been knocking for ages.” He flashed you his winning smile and you couldn’t help but smile back. “You can’t keep doing this.” He pulled you to him and planted a kiss in your lips. “I can go,”’He kissed you again. “If you want.” You moaned against his lips and shook your head. He grinned at you and you pulled him to the bed. The next ten minutes was spent kissing in the bed and you pushed him away before things got too heated. “We can’t, we’ll wake my parents!” Steve sighed and rolled off of you. “I can’t wait for the future. For our future.” “Oh yeah?” You curled into his side and he stroked your hair. “Yeah, I mean. We can have a house of our own. Whatever you want, wherever you want.” You smiled up at him and he continued. “With enough space for the kids to run around. God our kids are gonna be so good looking.” You laughed. “Cause of their dad.” You nudged him. He smiled and shook his head. “Cause of you. You are.. so, beautiful.” You blushed and he kissed your lips softly. “I can’t wait to marry you. To grow old with you.” You smiled at the idea and buried your face in his neck. “Me too.” You whispered. His hands ghosted down your back as he wrapped you in his arms. “I love you, (Y/N).” You smiled. “I love you too.” He pulled back and cupped your face gently and his eyes were full of passion. “No, I really love you. More than anything in this world.” You smiled up at him. “I know. I love you Steve, always.” He nodded slowly. “Always.”
♔
“Be careful!” The kids hooked their arms around yours and Steve watched anxiously as they lifted you through the whole. As soon as you were up he hauled himself up the rope and crawled across the dirt to where they had laid you. “Babe! Shit baby stay with me!” He ripped his shirt from his body and wrapped it around your leg. You lifted your hand and grabbed his wrist. He looked up at you, panic and pain in his eyes and you shook your head slowly, tears streaming down your face. ”Steve,” “No!” Steve yelled. He sobbed over you and pulled your body to him. His hands wrapped around your head and he sobbed against you. “Steve, it’s too late.” You whispered. The pain spread through your body and you could feel the darkness creeping in and you knew. You knew these breaths were your last. Memories flooded your mind. Your first kiss with Steve, the first time you saw him. The first date and how he had been late because “Hair this perfect takes time.”. The first time you said I loved you and the first time he said it back. You closed your eyes and tears rolled down your cheeks. You knew. You knew he was your soulmate, your everything and you knew you had to leave him. You had lost too much blood already, your wounds were too severe. You knew you were dying. “Please, (y/n)!” Steve sobbed. You lifted your hand to his swollen cheek and ran your thumb across his lips. “I love you.” You whispered, “I love you so much.” “No!” Steve yelled. “Don’t give up!” “Steve.” You whispered, shaking your head against his chest. “Listen to me.” Your breath hitched in your throat. He met your eye and seeing the pain in his eyes tore you apart. “I love you.” You told him. Tears rolled down his cheeks and you gulped. “I love you, (y/n). Please don’t leave me, please.” He begged. His body shook as he held you to him. The darkness was spreading and you closed your eyes. “I love you Steve.” You said again. He had to know. “Always.” “Always.” He repeated. Sobs ripped through him as he heard your last breath leave your body. “No!” He whispered. “No! No!” His whispers turned to yells as he clung to your lifeless body and he knew in that moment he would give anything. He would give anything to wake up and have this all be a bad dream. A weird, crazy fucked up dream. But he knew it was real. Nothing had ever felt more real. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours. His hand caressed your cheek and tears continued to stream down his face. He pressed his lips against yours and closed his eyes. “Always.” He whispered. “Always.”
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#Steve Harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve x reader#steve stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things steve imagien#steve harrington fic#Billy Hargrove#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fic#billy x steve#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#billy stranger things#nancy wheeler#johnathan byers#johnathan byers imagine#stranger things two#joe kerry#joe keery#dacre montgomery imagine#angst#imagine#imagine SOA#soaimagines#stranger things headers#stranger things hopper#stranger things headcanons#stranger things au
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Heist Plan Log
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:19 AM Sits in the kitchen making spaghetti and meatsauce. Lots of it. For reasons. Definitely legitimate reasons.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:21 AM Drawn by the smell of Spaghetti, he takes himself a seat. A scrutinous peer at the pot. "Smells good."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:22 AM Turns around, wearing a "Kiss my Heart" apron that has a butt on it. "S'almost done. New recipe I'm tryin out."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:25 AM Lights up a cigarette and pulls the "newspaper" from beneath his arm, opening it up to take a gander. "What's in it?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:27 AM "Prospitian." You grin wide.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:27 AM "Ohhh." A shiver and a smirk. "All white meat. The good stuff."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:29 AM "Nothin but the best." Dip your spoon in and taste it. Yep, thats prospitian alright. Tastes like sausage, a little spicy but not as hearty as beef. "Wanna taste?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:30 AM "I'll let you finish. Never let a work in progress spoil the surprise of the finished product."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:30 AM You shrug, turning back to stir the pot. "Fair nuff. Anythin interesting in the paper today? Been kinda quiet on the far side a the river since... well, yknow."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:32 AM You pretend you aren't perusing your GRAY LADIES periodical for SOPHISTICATED GENTLEMEN and turn down the corner to get a look at the newspaper. "Nope. 'Still no leads on the arson case, and bombing case.' And the Mayor's aide gots themself a new puppy. Cute little bastard."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:35 AM Droog is a classy guy, but youre no fool. You just dont get why he has to read his smut in public. "Huh. Figures. At least theyre writing about important stuff." You snort, stirring the noodles.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:36 AM "Yeah, well." Tap the ashes. "Ain't like they've got anything more interesting to talk about. The green fucks have been all busy drying each other's tears or some shit, sucking each other off, who knows. Been quiet. But we have too."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 3:36 AM arrives 15 minutes late with coffee "hey" siiiiiiiiiiiiiip
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:37 AM "Hey, Deuce."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 3:38 AM "What is going on?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:39 AM "Boxcars's making dinner. Spaghetti." Another drag of his cigarette. "LAM enting how quiet shit's been."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:40 AM "Too quiet."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 3:40 AM "Oh that was the delicious smell, nice nice." another sip "i like the silence, it helps me sleep at night" "Unless you mean the silence on the streets"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:40 AM Laughs. "That too."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 3:42 AM "Personally," says Slick, his voice coming from down the hall. He doesn't continue until he has arrived in the kitchen. He's grinning, papers rolled up under his arms. "I think the silence is fuckin awful."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:42 AM A timer goes off and you take the giant pot of noodles off the stove. "Hey boss." You smile, turning back to drain the noodles. "I'm with ya, aint like this city ta stay quiet fer too long."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:43 AM Droog sighs deeply, folds his paper up. He taps it on the counter in front of him, moving his cigarette to the corner of his mouth. "Remember when we were just starting out? A heist every night, it seemed like, making all kinds of noise."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 3:45 AM "I remember," says Slick. He seats himself at Droog's side, taking the pill from his lips to steal a drag. He puts it back and rolls one of the papers out. A map of the city. "Hmn. Look different now than it used to," he comments. It's a newer map. In much better condition than the original map they had way back when. All the pen and knife marks on it.
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:46 AM Back in the before times™. "Needed it back then." You comment idly, fixing plates up for each person at the table. Though you stop to take a look at the map. In the back of your mind you hear 'heist, heist, heist heist'.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 3:49 AM "This city needs a needs some radical remodelation "
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:49 AM "You just wanna blow stuff up." You laugh, putting a plate in front of him.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 3:52 AM "Yes but i thouth i didn't need to point that out. I can blow stuff up while still teaching the felt who owns this city, it's a win win situation" wink
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 3:53 AM "Now thats a lesson I can get behind."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 3:55 AM Droog smirks and lays a hand on the small of Slick's back, giving it a rub as he looks over the map. "Bigger now. More places to hit."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 4:04 AM "So any place that makes your mouth water ,boss?"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 4:20 AM Slick cackles to himself, peering over the map. A few key points are circled in red. Many others in green. Those are for later. "These circles, here," he explains, "Are neutral territory. I tried to strike a deal here--" He points to a large casino in the middle of town, "And they turned me down. I told them I'd make 'em regret it."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 4:21 AM Three more plates down on the table, piled with spaghetti, well away from the map. Just in case. "Sounds like a promise we should make good on."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 4:22 AM A nod of thanks towards Hearts, and he says, "Never been one to break a promise."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 4:33 AM Slick is buzzing with excitement. He looks to his men with pride. "So I take it you're all with me?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 4:35 AM You grin, lifting a fist in excitement. "Hell yes, boss. Till the end."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 4:35 AM Droog smirks again and he says, "No place else I'd rather be."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 4:42 AM nods "of course boss!"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 4:47 AM He grins, content. And he enjoys the fuck out of his spagetti, unraveling the papers beneath the map. Blueprints, already bought off one of the original designers of the building. An ex-runman for the Crew. Retired. But still willing to offer Spades a hand, all things considered. He says to his men, "Their security ain't a joke but they ain't loyal, neither. Bought half those boys behind the cameras are Crew loyalists and the other half can be bought off."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 4:49 AM Take the apron off and sit at the table, eating quietly as you listen. "S'cAM eras all they got?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 4:53 AM "Imagine they gotta have bodies manning the floor. Maybe something meatier behind the curtains, so to speak."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 4:54 AM You snicker and crack your knuckles.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 4:56 AM "Nothing would be a problem depending on how the boss wants to do this, silent and deadly or just ...you know. " Deuce imitates a 3 gunshot noises and a register cash one.
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 4:57 AM You choke on your spaghetti trying to hold back a laugh. Well said, Deuce.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:01 AM Droog snorts, taking up his fork and spearing the spaghetti. "Why not both?"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:02 AM Slick sneers, leaning over his plans. "Yeah, boys, this ain't an undercover job. This is a fuck-you job. This is a, We are the Midnight Crew and this is Our Town, job. We take out their best turncoats, we steal their best Crewmen, make off with the dough, and then we level the joint to remind everyone who they're messin' with. The neutral joints make me sick."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:06 AM "We'll need a bit of finesse to get inside. Nothing undercover, but not goin' in, guns a-blazin."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:11 AM "Your expertise," says Slick, smiling at Droog matter of factly. He takes a bite out of his spaghetti, eating it like a goddAM n savage. No slurping noodles for this guy. Just biting in. Fuckin delicious.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:12 AM Droog tosses Slick a wink, chewing thoughtfully. Ahh. Such tender Prospitian. "My compliments to the chef," he says lightly to Boxcars, his eyes still locked on the blueprints and plans. Searching...
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:12 AM Nod in agreement. They need to pick a side. The right side. Or...is it the left. Whatever. "Thanks, doll." Its your new favorite. "So we're workin from the inside out? How're we gettin in?"
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:15 AM "we could make it moon landing style?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:16 AM You tilt your head. "Whats that mean, Cassy?" Arent you already on the moon?
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:19 AM "Who wouldn't be around such gorgeous man" wink wink "i mean like " again with the noises this time of a car accelerating and then crashing drAM atically " and then we get our entrance spot"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:21 AM You laugh again.
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:22 AM Slick wags a finger at Deuce. Although he doesn't seem upset by the idea, it's clear it ain't gonna fly. "We make connections. Get get our men in there and get information out. Then we strike. Gotta be smooth."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:25 AM he shrugs "ok then, just a suggestion. I will run with whatever plan you have boss"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:27 AM You clear your throat. Right. Smooth. "Maybe we can try out a new face?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:28 AM "New face could work. Fix ourselves up, look like someone we ain't. Get in that way. We can..." Droog imitates the noises Deuce made. "...our way out, once we've finished bleeding them dry.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:29 AM deuce claps delighted by droog's will to mimic his silly noises "i like the new face idea but wouldn't that take a bit of our glory?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:30 AM "We take the new faces off once we're past the security problems, see? Go in with new faces, leave with the old ones."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:34 AM "Ooooooooooooooooooooh"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:38 AM You nod. "Suit up, get in, take out the muscle." Time to break out those new iron knuckles.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:40 AM "Oh we are doing it now?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:41 AM "Well, no. We've got this delicious fuckin' spaghetti to finish, at least."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:42 AM he nods while finishing his pasta and checking his phone, talking with his mouth half full "i was going to tell Clover to hang out with me but i guess it will be some other night"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:43 AM You frown a bit, choosing to ignore the mention of Clover. "Wonder what face I should choose. Havent had ta switch it up in ages."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:44 AM "Doesn't have to be drastically different. Just noticeably different."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:45 AM "I want to be a woman for tonight!"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:45 AM Slick nods, seating himself back down. He'd stood up in his excitement. "You fellas make me proud, you know that? God, I can already feel the adrenaline comin on."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:45 AM Suddenly struck by either genius or idiocy, you cover your face in a poof of purple smoke and come out with Droog's face. Tattoo and all. "How do I look?"
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:46 AM "Handsome!"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:46 AM "...Buff Droog."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:46 AM Droog blinks once before saying, "Handsome. Proportion's off, but I guess you can't beat the original."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:46 AM "I would take both"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:47 AM Slick turns to Droog with a cheeky grin. "I've always wanted you to impale me. "
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:48 AM You make a kissy face at them.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:48 AM Droog barks a laugh, brandishing his fork at Slick. "You can get impaled all night long, after we bust the place wide open. Capiche?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:49 AM You laugh as well, face returning to normal. It felt weird, you're glad you didnt have a mirror. An arm goes around Deuce's shoulder. "Lets do each others faces, huh? It'll be fun."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:51 AM "ahaha yes!" do it wonderwoman style and make circles before poofing into a miniature boxcars "MY DICK IS THE SIZE OF THE RADIO TOWER OUTSIDE" "ahahahah!"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:51 AM "Capiche." "Holy fuck."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:51 AM "Frog alive."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:51 AM "Fuck" You crack up again, smacking a hand on the table. "Alright, if thats how ya want it." You stand up in a controlled explosion and come out as a giant deuce. "I'm human married ta a crate of tnt."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:54 AM Droog snorts a laugh, waving his hand in the air. "Botha ya, too fuckin' much."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:55 AM You cast a sheepish grin at Droog, laughing quietly. "Guess it wouldnt exactly be a disguise if we were each other, just different sizes."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:55 AM "I want to human marry a crate of tnt!"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:55 AM "I knew it!"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:56 AM "No, it wouldn't. A good exercise though." Droog points at Deuce. "I don't think that's a thing."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 5:57 AM Slick turns to Droog, now wearing his face, plus a darker complexion and an eyepatch. "Am I beautiful."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:57 AM "You've always been"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 5:57 AM You fall back into your chair, cackling loudly.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:58 AM Droog looks to Slick. He deadpans for a long second. "More beautiful than ever before."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 5:59 AM "Why i can't human marry a tnt crate? you guys destroy my dreams" disguise changed to a mini slick "i mean the boss can marry his knifes but i can't marry my bombs?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 5:59 AM Droog's face shifts into Slick's, albeit paler, several of those thick locs now shocked white. "I ain't marryin' no fuckin' knives, Deuce."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:00 AM "An impostor!"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:00 AM You laugh still, sweating just a bit as you poof back to your normal skin. Its been a little longer than you thought since you used this much magic.(edited) "I wish I had a camera."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:01 AM "Once we're done with this heist, Boxcars, you can afford any and all the cAM eras you want." Droog observes the light sheen of sweat on Boxcar's forehead and checks his watch. Only a couple of minutes hold, huh...
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:02 AM Are you saying he's too quick, Droog. Rude. "Fair enough."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:03 AM "This is getting insane."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:03 AM "i think i can do one more. i think i can do a felt"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:03 AM "A whole Felt, huh?" Droog's face shifts into Deuce's, the Boxcar's. "Let's see it."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:04 AM finger snap and a little clover with the wrong shade of green appears tap dance
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:04 AM You watch, smiling wide the whole time. "Holy shit, Deucey, thats real good. Looks just like the lil fucker."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:05 AM "I still can't quite do his skintone, it's a strange green. and the freckles are a pain, but i think it looks pretty convincing!" ok back to normal and to melt on the chai because holy shit this is tiring
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:06 AM Droog nods his Boxcars-y head, not feeling the least bit tired. He says, "Pretty impressive. A bit of make-up work on top of it would seal the deal, I think."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:06 AM "I need to practice the disguises though...i can't seem to hold them for too long and it's a shame"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:06 AM You nod, glad to not be the only one.
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:07 AM Slick would do Crowbar but he realizes it would be inappropriate. He tries his hand at Snowman instead. It's a perfect recreation save the bright stars. He lounges across the table. "Hello boys."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:07 AM "OH FROG NO "
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:08 AM Droog's lip curls in disgust, hissing between his teeth. Which, now, belong in the mouth of Death himself. "Froggin' hell bitch."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:08 AM You sit up in a bit of shock, half smlie on your face. "Shit, boss." So impressive. Star eyes, motherfucker.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:09 AM "Slick this isn't even funny , you will stink the place with BITCH" disgusted noises
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:09 AM His breasts are practically bursting out of his shirt, too small to contain them. "Mmm, tell me more. I clearly get off to being called out for begin the bitch I am~"
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:10 AM "ew ew ew ew ew ew. your boobs are so nice this is not fair!!
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:10 AM "Hah!"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:10 AM He kicks a leg in the air. "Make me a three course dinner and bring me my crown while you're at it."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:11 AM "oh hell naw"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:11 AM "Jesus jumpin' toadstools, Slick, I know you spent an eternity in the void with her, but you gotta stop makin' it look so real. Givin' me the jeebies."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:12 AM You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh, despite the weirdly accurate portrayal.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:12 AM "I think i am not hungry anymore"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:15 AM "Aw dont be like that, Cassy. S'just fer fun."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:16 AM Droog rubs his face subconsciously, remembering briefly the... Incident from a few months prior.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:17 AM "....I don't like her anymore ok?. she's mean...It's not even fun anymore like it used to be"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:18 AM Tilt your head confusedly from him to Droog. Yep, theres definitely something youre missing. "Uh...well, maybe we should try out new looks instead, then?" You offer, a half smile still lingering on your face.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:19 AM Droog continues to rub his face for a moment before looking between Slick and Deuce. "I think these two are onto something. What if we go in as dames?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:20 AM "Ooh, Now yer talkin."
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:22 AM Slick groans. No fun allowed. He turns over and appears as a dAM e. Sleek, short hair. Freckled skin. Luscious lips. Well, he always has luscious lips. Typical flapper look. He grins.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:22 AM Droog points at Slick and he says, "Yeah, just like that."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:26 AM deuce picks a tiny double horned alternian "ive always wanted to do this" "does it look too strange?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:26 AM "Nah, looks good. Real classy."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:27 AM "Like the double-horned look. Reminds me of your boy."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:27 AM "i know! i like this whole 2 theme!"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:27 AM You sit up, taking a quiet breath and shifting into a very lorge lady. Bushy hair shortening out of its bun, square jaw smoothing into soft chubby cheeks. Also the first button of your shirt pops open. "Hows this?"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:28 AM Droog whistles low and gives his hands a clap. "Gorgeous, the three of you."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:29 AM "can i dive into your boobs?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:29 AM You laugh. "Pretty sure yer horns would stab me, Cassy. But sure, why the fuck not."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:32 AM "they are not that pointy, i like the round variety like that kitty girl"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:32 AM Slick pushes his boobs together. "Mmn. Soft."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:33 AM Droog taps his chin, humming softly. "Wonder if my normal dAM e disguise would do it, or if I should try on somethin' new..."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:34 AM "Just for the fun i would say try something different" disguise off, her face is too different from yours it's tiring
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:35 AM "Y'do use yer dame disguise a bit more'n any of us." You point out.
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:36 AM "True. Though most still don't know to connect 'em. Maybe I'll try Alternian..."
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:37 AM "Be my alternian big sis"
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:37 AM "Ha. Let's see..." It takes a bit of concentration, but he assumes the form of an Alternian woman with long hair (a bit still shocked white), wearing ram-esque horns on his head.
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 6:39 AM Slick purrs.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:40 AM "Hello there gorgeous, are you single?"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:41 AM "Damn, nice one."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 6:41 AM Droog curtsies, or pretends to, anyway, while he's seated and not in a skirt.
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:51 AM You smile, though its forced, and abruptly poof out of your female form.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:53 AM "Ah you guys are so gorgeous"
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:53 AM "Same ta you, cutie. Come here often?"
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:54 AM "I'm new in town maybe you can show me around" wiggle eyebrows
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 6:54 AM "Sure thing. I know this great casino. Bout ta come under new management." Snicker.
Clubs Deuce - Yesterday at 6:57 AM "Oh really? i hope the new owners are gorgeous as you are~" pfff "AHAAHHA"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 7:06 AM Slick laughs as well. Resting his cheek on his knuckles. "Alright. We got the looks. Just need to figure out the next steps."
Diamonds Droog - Yesterday at 7:19 AM "That's steps 1-6 then. I suppose the question is, are we favoring bleeding them dry first, or going straight for shooting the place up?"
Spades Slick - Yesterday at 7:29 AM "Bleed dry. I want everything."
Hearts Boxcars - Yesterday at 7:30 AM "Think they got a vault?" You glance down at duece. Best way to get into one of those is exploding things as far as youre concerned.
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How stress leads to Depression & followed by self-harm
So If you've been following along, you might realise I have some pretty serious mental health issues, the life altering Depression kind :( As you might have guessed I'm having a bad day and given the thoughts I was having I thought this post might be a good idea. So how does this all begin? For the vast majoriy of people it begins with psychological stress. Perhaps you're wondering how you're goin to pay that bill. Perhaps it's dealing with that problematic co-worker. For many many people they sucessfully deal with the stress that's happening and they move on happier and healthier than before. For some however, the stress can't or isn't resolved and so it remains causing a drain on the person. People are highly adaptive, that's what makes the human race so long lived. Two World Wars and we're still here, only creature more adaptable than us is the cockroach which experts recon even a nuke can't kill (gg cockroaches). Anyway as people are so adaptive even if they don't resolve the stress they can continue on but to keep going on some of their resources are diverted to keeping the stress at bay. Think of it as running a computer but say 10% of the hardware spends all of its time keeping a virus at bay. You can use the computer but it's not as good as it could be. This is not the end of the world for most people but for those select few if more stresses come along and aren't dealt with then more and more resources are used up until they get so low they start developing Depression and other mental health conditions like anxiety. If the stress continues and the person's resources are totally consumed up, they can be pushed to the point of doing something extremesuch as self-harm. I like to liken it to a spike in demand on a computer. If suddenly 3 programs all requested 10% CPU resources and there was 20 or 30% resources left. Naturally the computer begins to feel sluggish because it's overburdened. For me, when I get to this point I begin to contemplate lashing out and doing something drastic. I read an article online that put it well: "It not really as crazy as it sounds. As water will always seek to be level in a glass, the human body seeks to be level also and one extreme problem (your nervous system out of whack) needs one extreme solution (self-harm) to bring back the equilibrium." Usually I don't get to the suicide point just yet, that usually comes shortly after if this state of needing to lash out remains. If I feel so totally overwhelmed that I can only think one thing in the world can help me, can solve my problems. No at this point I get to self-harm before I get to suicide. For me self-harm is usually infrequent, I'm talking months apart but still it happens because things become too much and when I'm like that there is no one I can turn to. Most everyone I have met has no care or time for that. They will try and stop you killing yourself but can't spare 5 minutes to just be with me. When I am like that, I am no longer strong enough to continue on by myself. All I ask is for someone to help me just for a moment, to take the weight of the world off my shoulders for 5 or 10 minutes. Just sit with me, chat, throw me kitten pictures, link a funny video, suggest a distraction, talk about something you're interested in etc. Any of that takes the weight off my shoulders when I am my worst. Sadly very few people if any do that and so I internalize how I feel because of it. Eventually I crack and lash out. Self-harm for me is almost always cutting. Both accessible, not as bad as it sounds and relatively easy to control. I also have a fairly high tolerance for pain, yes I feel the cuts hurting as I make them but I feel and incredible almost overwhelming sense of relief as the stress, the pain, the sadness, whatever else I was feeling leaves. I would choose to cut fleshy areas of my body to avoid doing any long term damage, a little skin scaring but nothing else. Initially I cut the tops of my lower arms, that became a problem in summer when I would be hot and want to remove whatever long sleeved clothes I had on but couldn't. Also wearing my towel around my body but not my arms after a shower was also an issue so I started looking at other body parts. Next my upper arms, then my legs, then I settled on my hips. I'm still careful not to cut too low so if I wear a knee length skirt and it's windy my upper thigh/hip isn't shown by accident. You know that feeling you get seeing the last of a tub of water going down the drain or the last of sand slipping from one side to the other of an hourglass? That fleeting almost evaporating feeling? That's what the relief feels like to me. It feels like whatever negativity was inside me has turned into a gas and is slowly but surely slipping away, evaporating away.... I know it's not a great coping method and I do understand the risks and I do understand why it is discouraged but it is also the only thing that helps me. I know it'll take roughly 2 weeks for my skin to heal fully and about 3 days to seal the skin. I know what to keep an eye out for regarding infection, I keep the wounds which are more like scratches clean. I also have faith in my immune system. I had an antibiotic resistant infection under my left breast a couple years ago. When I finally presented to the hospital's emergency department, like half the rostered doctors came by to have a look. No one could figure out how the hell I wasn't septic and barely symptomatic. I presented because I was in pain. I still credit my immune system for that. Put me next to a highly contagious person and I'd bet 1 million dollars I don't get sick. Pretty sure either my immune system is God or I have a natural immunity to just about everything. So yeah I trust my immune system. Back to the wounds, as I said they're more like scratches since I use the blade from a pencil sharpener to cut myself. Easy to get. I've contemplated using a stanley knife you can get from hardware shops....I think you Americans call it a box cutter? Anyway one of those knifes you slide the blade up from inside the pouch it's in that you get from hardware shops. So what lead to all this from me? Well if you've been following along at home, Centrelink the government agency here that administers welfare stopped my payments some 9 weeks ago. They did this when I tried to update my details regarding studying. They told me I had to reapply for literally the same payment except for 25+ year olds. I went to do that and they said what's your student ID. Previous to that my course provider had closed down and so I was to be moved to a new provider and at that time my new provider hadn't issued me a student ID. I was calling my new provider who said I needed to opt-in to a student loan first befoire they would enrol me, the department of education and training were telling me you can't opt-in until your details are sent by your new provider to us which means they need to enrol you. Back and forth I went until my new provider finally said sorry we can't accept funding for your course you have to get moved to another provider instead. At this point the tuition assurance provider aka the people helping me move between providers was no longer reachable and so I got stuck. So for 9 weeks I've been living off savings with at minimum $60 coming out every month to cover my phone bill since I'm on a contract still and it doesn't break till September. I'd be up for like $300 for a termination fee if I broke the contract now + whatever would be left for the handset I got with the contract, though at the time my mobile carrier waived the handset repayment cost so long as I agreed to a 24 month contract. I saw no problem since I got a plan upgrade, more data, unnlimited calls and messages and a free handset essentially. Only downside was the 24 month contract. Anyway back to what's going on, Centrelink stopped paying me, I'm without a provider, can't reach the tuition assurance provider, living off savings and still have ongoing monthly costs that can't be stopped. So as a result of my dire financial situation I've started cutting back costs which means I hardly buy food and as a result eat even less than I did before which was 1 maybe 2 meals a day. Now it's more like 1 meal every 2 days. On top of this a few days ago I started having trouble with my car. Turn the key and the engine doesn't want to turn over and start, get it going finally and within a few seconds it stalls from low revs. Great :/ So I start applying the accelerator when the engine gets going and bingo, my baby revs to life and is good to go. So I head home where I was going but get caught by red lights. Sitting waiting and the revs begin to drop and I go oh dear this is bad and then they dip low enough they threaten to stall the car at the lights :/ So I again lightly apply the accelerator with my hand on the handbreak ready to drop it when the lights go green. Thankfully I get home ok. Anyway what that suggests is that it's a power issue which as far as I know means it could be spark plugs, yay not so expensive, battery, not horrible but not cheap or alternator, depending on car can be very fucking expensive :/ Was reading about a guy being charged for a $600 alternator.....to be fair he had a Ford while I have a Volkswagon. I have about $2500 I can work with.....well probably less now given how many weeks it has been. So I took my car to a mechanic today, unfortunately not avoidable. I was hoping the car would have come back this afternoon but no. Tomorrow I have two appointments back to back quite some distance apart. Not happy about having no car. Going to be stuck on a push bike. I thought no biggy, not fun but doable. Then I sat on the floor to talk to and pat our dog and boom, I pull the muscle up the full length of my right leg and can now no longer properly stretch it and on top of that I spent the last week with a headache or migraine for almost every single day that was so crippling all I could do was sleep it off and trash my sleeping. I also had to push another appointment I had last week because of that. That say that I am at the end of my rope and I can't cope is an understatement or how I feel. Oh and not to mention I had two conflicts with my mother todays also and my family is a very big trigger for my depression. I honestly feel like I always get the worst fucking deal of cards in life. Only thing that could make things worse is if Centrelink decided to send me a debt notice as they have done regarding the #NotMyDebt issue(Expect a blog on that by itself at some point in the future). At this point I'm no longer coping and I lashed out earlier and self-harmed. The stress lead to my depression causing another episode which lead to me self-harming. I'm just so over it that I wish I could just disappear forever, at the pace things are going, I'm not entirely sure that won't happen in a very permenant way :( Anyway I might drop an update here after tomorrow if things go well since I am talking to Legal Aid tomorrow. Maybe they can help with Centrelink and the providers. All my effort has produced very little results. Well if you made it to the end of this ost, thanks for reading, sorry it was ranty. I just needed to get this out. Here's to hoping I can get the help I need in the future. Stay Safe Out There!
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star wars rogue leader rogue squadron ii gamecube
http://allcheatscodes.com/star-wars-rogue-leader-rogue-squadron-ii-gamecube/
star wars rogue leader rogue squadron ii gamecube
Star Wars Rogue Leader: Rogue Squadron II cheats & more for GameCube (GameCube)
Cheats
Unlockables
Hints
Easter Eggs
Glitches
Guides
Get the updated and latest Star Wars Rogue Leader: Rogue Squadron II cheats, unlockables, codes, hints, Easter eggs, glitches, tricks, tips, hacks, downloads, guides, hints, FAQs, walkthroughs, and more for GameCube (GameCube). AllCheatsCodes.com has all the codes you need to win every game you play!
Use the links above or scroll down to see all the GameCube cheats we have available for Star Wars Rogue Leader: Rogue Squadron II.
Also Known As: Star Wars Rogue Squadron II: Rogue Leader
Genre: Action, Adventure Developer: Factor 5 Publisher: Lucas Arts ESRB Rating: Teen Release Date: November 8, 2001
Hints
Find The Generator On Razor Rendevoux
Can’t find the last generator on Razor Rendevoux?Go to the bottom of the Imperial Star Destroyer. You’ll see a gray ball. Shoot it and then you can hit the command bridge.
Tech Upgrade
One the Hoth level, when the shield generator isdestroyed and you are heading for the transportsthrough the big ditch or whatever, turn around tothe place where the shield generator was and youshould see a tech upgrade on the spot where thegenerator was.
Easy Space Missions
Space missions are the easiest for me, since you can move around a lot especially without auto-roll (it sucks A LOT). Razor Rendezvous, all you have to do is shoot a couple of TIEs, and then blast one Star Destroyer. Too easy. Make sure yoou have UNLIMITED lives-it’s easiest. Shoot down some TIEs, make it easier for your weak fighter, then attack the orbs on deck. When they’re destroyed, go for the round lump on the bottom (you may die trying to destroy the other generators, because it’s fastest to kamikaze into them, and when attacking the reactor, don’t be stupid and crash into the Razor, okay?). Brake for a bit at a distance, using lasers and secondary weapons alike, then, when you’ve run out of missles etc. just accelerate and crash into it. This will take about 2 tries at the most, depending how much shields left after taking out the other two. It’s easy with cheats, isn’t it? (lol)
Saving General Lando Part II
As you begin part two of level ten take out the fighters stalking the Falcon. More enemys will whiz over you shooting you as they pass. Drop as low as possible. Take them out and repeat the process of part one of Strike at the core, STAY ON LANDO’S TAIL! Open and close the S-Foils regularly. You will take damage hitting the walls, shots from the fighters etc. By then R5 will offer you his services repairing your X wing racking up your sheilds. Repeat this process and bringing you to the Death Star’s energy core. Once you take it out it is a race against time if you feel you are in trouble destroy yourself. It will save you the trouble of repeating the mission. Stay with Lando and get yourself outta there and win the battle against the empire!!
Saving General Lando
At the beginning of level ten, if you are Wedge, Lando asks you to provide cover as he makes his way into the core of the Death Star. Your best bet is to stsy on his tail at ALL costs. Open and close your S-foils repeatedly taking all of the hits. Do not ram into him! If you are destroyed don’t worry about it. Whiz your way back to the Falcon’s hide and destory any and all Tie fighters and interceptors you may encounter. This stratagy should serve you well.
Imperial Academy Heist Made Easy
When disabling at least 4 or 5 sensors take a left and it will lead you to another canyon leading to the academy. And, it will still count as disabling the sensors! Then when you are in the academy try to destroy the ties before the are operational. Then head for the turrets. DO NOT use bombs, it takes forever to blow them up.Get your distance and start shooting your blasters. And then (finally) when you get the shuttle, start rolling to dodge the fire. And then head to the big canyon. Then Y-Wings come and take out the ties.
Destroy A Sensor
On Imperial Academy Hiest, try destroying one of the Sensors. You’ll be told your too close to one (no matter where you are) but you won’t be told they have picked you up on them. (Try one at the begining, I havn’t tried one near the end) Oh yeah, do this only during the day.
Lock-on To More Than One Target
(This only works with the A-Wing) When locking-on to a target you can lock-on to more than one. First you lock-on to a target, then don’t press B lock-on to someone else as if you hadn’t locked on someone else earlier. You can lock-on to up to 4 people at a time. This really helps like in Battle on Endor.
Easy Flying
In mission 10 hold the L button so it is easier to move through the second part.
C-3PO And R-2 D2 In The Hoth Hanger Bay
Go to the Mission Select Screen. Select the Battle of Hoth. While your in the hanger bay, go look around the second speeder on your right. Standing under one of the arches is C-3PO and his companion, R-2 D2.
Millennium Falcon Glich
(Note: This will happen four times in this level)Play Falcon in The Battle of Endor.(1) When you came out of hiper space it will show two falcons coming out of it.(2) Then when you are done blowing up the tie bombers it will show a scene and your falcon being shot at and chaste be three tie fighters and then it will show Lando’s Falcon flying and shoting at a tie and blowing it up.(3)When you go after the Star Destroyers It will show your Falcon and Lando’s Falcon fly to the Star Destroyers.(4)After the sheilds are down it will show a scene and Lando’s Falcon and yours fly to the Death Star. Just thought you guys might like this and find it funny and cool.
Tie Glich
Play the Battle of Endor and play as the tie fighter. When you get done blowing up all the tie bombers. A scene will come up showing you flying as the tie and being shot at and chaste by other tie fighters and that the tie glich. I just thought you guys might find that funny.
Funny Ship Description
This is pretty funny. When you’re choosing a ship go over to the Y-wing and listen to the description by pressing the Y button. Theres a really funny part where they say, “.and it shields will protect you from just about anything which, is good because you wont be going anywhere fast.” It’s really funny when you listen to it.
Floating Rebel Troop
On the Hoth mission, go to the Ion Cannon and then fly towards the AT-ATs that are in front of the ones in the back (they are the second farthest group of AT-ATs from the generator). On the way there you will see a rebel troop floating in midair. He is mainly just looking around, but sometimes he will pull out a blaster rifle and act like he’s firing, but you won’t see any lasers.
Extra Pilot
In the Raid on Bespin mission, get into a cloud car. Once in, switch to the cockpit view and look at the other pod by using the C Stick. There will be another pilot in that pod!
Who’s flyin this thing!?
On the Ison Corridor Ambush, use the Naboo Starfighter (N-1). Watch the cutscene when you enter the nebula and there will be no pilot in the N-1.
Get Slave I (the RIGHT Way)
To get Slave I, you need 12 silver medals or higher–not 10! This means that you’ll need to have 2 bonus missions at least. The Slave I is a great ship (it has cluster missiles!!) but is very slow and has almost no shields. If a TIE gets behind you, you better use all of your missiles quick ’cause you’re goin down sucka!
Quick Mission Start
Hold L+R when choosing a mission to automatically start with the default ship.
’69 Buick Flying Around
Go to the Ison Corridor Ambush mission. Use a ship that is fairly slow ( I prefer the Slave I). When the TIE Interceptors come, fly to the back of the convoy, around the last Rebel Medium Transport. You should see a black car flying in circles. Sometimes it will be under the transport, sometimes over, sometimes behind, sometimes under, etc. Don’t run into it–you’ll crash.
Easy Hit Tie Fighters
In any level with the Y-Wing and Tie fighters you can use your Ion cannon on Tie Fighters! Once it is numb you can hit easely with out it hitting you! And sometimes it can crash into other tie fighters too!Note: The tie fighter only goes numb for a few seconds so hurry!
Destroy More Ties On Battle Of Endor
Immediatly after the start of the mission, fly toward the ties. then just turn around and fly toward home one and turn toward were the ties are coming from. You’ll see a lot of ties going slow. fire and blow them up. About 50% of the time this works.
Traitor Turrets
If you play the Imperial Academy Heist at night and steal a TIE fighter, fly around the entire complex for a while and then head to the big academy area where the shuttle is. If you look closely, you can see that the turrets are flashing green. They are shooting but can’t reach you. Don’t get too close, they will hit you. The first time i did this the turrets around the shuttle did fire, and the second time they didn’t. They don’t fire at all sometimes, but some TIE Interceptors fired at me once too. See what fires at you.
“Wedge I’m Out of here!”
Go to Strike at the Core and select the Millennium Falcon. Once you have covered Wedge on the surface of the Death Star and you get inside the tunnel you can leave Wedge. Hurry and blow up the Generator before Wedge gets inside the big room, and you will see the Tie Fighters chasing Wedge blow up!
Easy Way To Destroy The 2 Star Destroyers In Battle Of Endor
If you’re going for gold, you have to have all three lives. If not, you need 2 lives left. Destroy the 2 shield generators on top and the reactor core on the bottom of one of the Star Destroyers. Go to the second Star Destroyer and kamikaze into the control deck without taking any of the shield generators out. Although this trick doesn’t work on Razor Rendevous, for some reason the game allows you to cheat the Star Destroyer at the cost of one life. Now take out the command deck of the second Star Destroyer. Since you destroyed one already, the second one will shoot you down fast, so I reccomend a “hit and run” to escape laser fire. If using a ship with secondary weapons, use a couple proton torpedoes if you have some at your disposal.
Asteroid Bonus Mission
An easy way to get through this mission with a good shot rating is to use the yellow joystick to pull the falcon closer to you and then push it farther away. This will bring a tie fighter in right behind you so that you can see it and fire without having to fire blindly. The falcon has an auto aiming quad turret, so just press the “A” button when the Tie is behind you. Keep an eye out for the asteroids and at the end of the scene make a bee line for the backside of the star destoyer to the rebal icon. Enjoy.
Fire “Dummy” Torpedo
To fire a Proton Torpedo without having a lock on a ship, press the “B” button twice the torpedo will fire straight. (Like it did before you get the “Homing Proton Torpedo Upgrade”) This also works with Concussion Missiles!
Homing Proton Torpedoes
Located in Vengeance on Kothlis After fending off TIEs from the transport (when the AT-ATs emerge) fly over to the destroyed ISD and look around where the command deck was – the the left is a small hole – go through to find the upgrade inside then carefully (and slowly) go through the other side. You may lose a life trying to get out, but finish up the mission so you can keep the upgrade.
Homing Concussion Missles
Located in Raid on Bespin When you first start the mission, deal with the first platform as usual (take out balloon followed by TIEs) then start toward the second platform. You’ll notice an Imperial ship fleeing the sight – destroy it and some of the gas cannisters on the nearby platform will explode. Where they used to be lies the upgrade for the Homing Concussion Missiles; pick it up and finish the mission as normal.
Targeting Computer Upgrade
Located in Strike at the Core Go through the mission as normal. When you enter the ventilation system filled with pipes, follow it all the way through, past the two curved parts and just before you enter the open room with the Core, fly under the lower pipes to the right. Underneath one of them will be the Targeting Computer upgrade. Finish the mission as normal to keep the upgrade
Advanced Sheilds
Located in Death Star Attack To find the advanced shield upgrade, enter Death Star Attack (first mission) and destroy the towers as normal. When the cinema takes over (leading into the TIE fighters) go straight in the direction it leaves you off with only veer to the left a bit and you’ll find the upgrade lying on the planet’s surface – dip down to get it.
More Bespin Hints
The power up for this level (advanced homing missiles) is located on the second platform you encounter. Shoot the tanker as it is pulling away, when it explodes it takes about half of the gas canisters with it. The power up is left on the bare part of the platform. If the tanker leaves before you get there, you can destroy the gas tanks yourself. You can also carefully fly your A-wing under the proper tanks, if you’re daring enough.Over the city itself, instead of searching for the power generators at ground level, fly high above the city and point down. Use your targeting computer to find the generators. Then come down on top of them, firing all the way. This will save you from hunting forever and searching all those dangerous trenches. You also won’t need to trade to the Cloud Car, but if you do trade, you can get a fresh A-Wing for the last part of the mission. Then get those bombers!
Advanced Blasters
You can find this in the Hoth level. Fly through the level until the shield generator is destroyed. After that turn around and fly to where the shield generator was and you should see a blue pyramid. Fly to it and you will get advanced blasters.
Tips For The Two Star Destroyers On Endor
Once Lando gives you the go-ahead to attack The Star Destroyers, fly above the ties, but below the Star Destroyer itself (I like the left one, but it’s your choice). Immeadiately start firing on the bottom shield generator once in range and hold the brake. The guns arent too bad, but you have to hold the brake so you have enough time to blow up the shield generator. Once one is destroyed, destroy the other destroyer’s underside generator. Once that’s done, destroy the first destroyer’s top two generators (stand by the control pad so your droid can repair your ship). Attack the bridge. Repeat on the other destroyer. Shoot down some TIEs (especially if any are in yellow on your tageting computer, I don’t know if there are any). Protect the ships until the shield is down.
Advanced Proton Torpedoes
In the Ison Corridor Amubush level, when you first start, turn around and fly through the big piece of floating wreckage. You will see a blue pyramid. Fly into it and you will recieve Advanced Proton Torpedoes. (Make sure you fly into the right piece of wreckage. If you don’t you will blow up.)
A Little Help With The Star Destroyer
If you are having trouble taking out the Star Destroyer in “Razor Rendezous”, try a suicide run at the ships bridge (after taking out all 3 shield generators). If you fly kamikazi style into the bridge, it won’t count as a life lost, so you get to keep your ship in the afterlife!The power up for this level is located on the far side of the Star Destroyer. Fly there early in the mission and shoot down the Imperial shuttle that is heading for the docking bay. You will get the advanced proton bomb upgrade. Pair that with the cluster upgrade, and you’ve got a powerful weapon.
Final Level Tips
During the first part of this mission, stay just behind and above the milenium falcon and shoot down the ties as they come. Avoid the gun fire from the surface of the death star. Once you see the final duct into the DS, boost forward and fly over it asap.During the Second part of the mission, keep a normal speed and shoot down the ties as fast as you can- there are only a limited number of them. The next wave of ties come as soon as you shoot the previous one down, so be quick. If you are a good shot you can knock all the ties down before you pass the finish the second passage. This makes flying to the end much easier, since you can take your time.On the way out, make sure you boost through streight aways and go normal through curves. If you are on a long streight-away make sure you boost until your ship comes nearer to the screne, open your wings and boost again. This will make you go even faster.On your second time through with the falcon, take out the first 2 groups of ties and just boost to the end ASAP. If you do you’ll get a great time on the level, making the gold easier to get.
Bespin Mission Made Easy
Having problems with the gun platforms? To get through the mission easily, instead of trying to take out each individual gun emplacement just look a little higher into the canopy of the platforms. Notice the gas tanks spewing flames to keep the platform afloat? Tap the A-button to shoot off fire-linked blasts (holding it down engages the weaker rapid fire), and aim right onto those gas tanks. Within six or seven well placed shots the platform will go down in flames, and you’ll have credit for all the guns as kills.
Spread Photon Bombs
On the Imperial Academy Heist Mission, after reaching the Academy Base go through the far left tunnel building to recieve the Spread Photon Bombs. These bombs will seriously help to get the Gold Medal for the Prison of The Maw Mission.
Extra Life
If you kill yourself moments before a scene plays, you will start the next part with full shields and no loss of life. Timing is everything!
Advanced Proton Upgrade In Razor Rendezvous
Fly to far side of the Star Destoryer at the begining of the mission to intercept an imperial shuttle before it reaches the docking bay. When you destory it you’ll get advanced proton bomb. The upgrade increases the power of the Y-wings bombs.
Reveal C-3PO & R2-D2 On Tatooine
When playing the Tatooine training level at dusk, you can find our favorite droids hiding in some strange places. If you destroy Jabba’s palace, C-3PO is the only survivor. Fly close enough to him and he moans that “We’re all doomed!” Destroy one of the sandcrawlers, and R2 is left. He will give you a few beeps for your trouble.Note: Just a fun tidbit, doesn’t help game play at all.
Battle Of Endor
Having trouble with those ties in the begining? When you start the level dive until you see the empirial fleet and fly towards them. When you can send your wingman to attack the ties and go for the middle group. Using your targeting computer snipe the lead interceptor and head through the formation at top speed. Without the leader the other ties go after the nearest enemy(i.e. you!) when trying to turn to follow you they will crash into each other.
Buy Missions
You can buy missions for 30 points each. They are available over the Battle of Hoth, Death Star Attack and Strike at the Core missions. You can pull out your memory card before using the points to kepp your 30 points
Documentary
Successfully complete all ten main missions to unlock a documentary feature.
Director’s Commentary
Win a total of ten medals of any type in the main missions to unlock a director’s commentary feature.
Naboo Starfighter
Successfully complete the Tatooine Training mission (all objectives, all normal and bonus items) in the morning, afternoon, evening, and night versions to unlock the Naboo Starfighter.
Ace Mode
Get a gold medal on all fifteen missions and successfully complete all objectives on Tatooine to unlock ace mode.
Darth Vader’s TIE Advanced X1
Get a gold medal on all fifteen missions to unlock Darth Vader’s TIE Advanced X1.
Millenium Falcon
Get a bronze medal on at least ten missions to unlock the Millenium Falcon.
Cheats
Slave I
Enter “PZ?APBSY” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “IRONSHIP” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep. Alternately, win a total of ten silver medals in the main missions to unlock the Slave I.
Triumph Of The Empire Level
Enter “AZTBOHII” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “OUTCAST!” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep.
Infinant Lives
enter “JPVI?IJC” as a passcode. R2 wont beep. Then Enter “RSBFNRL” as a passcode. R2 will beep if you put it in correctly.
Millennium Falcon
Enter “MVPQIU?A” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “OH!BUDDY” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep. Alternately, win a total of ten bronze medals in the main missions to unlock the Millennium Falcon.
Unlock All 10 Main Levels, Unlock Death Star Escape, Unlock Milenium Falcon
To unlock these things listed below enter the first code (R-2D-2 wont beep this time) then enter the second code (R-2D-2 will beep after you enter the second code). To unlock all 10 main levels enter !??QWTTJ, then enter CLASSIC. To unlock Death Star escape enter PYST?OOO, then DUCKSHOT. To unlock the Millenium Falcon enter MVPQIU?A, then OH!BUDDY.
Boba I Am Your Father.
This code is very cool in the fact that you get to fly Jango Fett’s version of Slave 1. Now in order for this code to work is that Boba’s version MUST BE AVAILABLE. Unlike the other codes on ROGUE LEADER there are three words to this code. First enter VV?GXRYP, second enter CNOOQZR, and then enter JFETTSHP. By now R2-D2 should beep and in the hanger Boba’s ship should now be blue. ENJOY!
Buick Convertible
!ZUVIEL!, then !BENZIN! – Buick Convertible. Thisunlocks the Buick Convertible and makes itimmediately available in the hangar, replacing thesecond A-Wing, in all your games. This is theonly code that deactivates when you shut off the game.
Ace Mode
U!?!VWZC, then GIVEITUP – Unlocks Ace Mode inSpecial Features.
Endurance Mission
First type ?WCYBRTC R2-D2 will not beep for this then type ??MBC??? and you will unlock Endurance.
TIE X1 Advanced
Type in NYM!UUOK at the passcodes screen, it’ll disappear. Then type in BLKHLMT! R2D2 should beeep and you should have a neww TIE X1. It can be found in the small room next to the Millenium Falcon
Imperial Shuttle
Enter “AJHH!?JY” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “BUSTOUR” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep.
Revenge On Yavin Level
Enter “OGGRWPDG” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “EEKEEK!” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep.
The REAL Code For The Asteroid Bonus Mission
Go to passcodes and type “tvlybbxl”. R2 won’t beep. Now type “nowar!!!”. R2 will beep and you will have the asteroid mission for free. This can really help when coupled with the code for the first bonus mission if you are trying to save your points for the bonus missions above Strike at the Core.
All Tech Upgrades
Enter “AYZB!RCL” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “WRKFORIT” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep.
Unlock Naboo Starfighter
Type in the code : CDYXF!?Q – Then type in the code : ASEPONE!
Unlock Tie Fighter
Enter ” ZT?!RGBA” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “DISPSBLE” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep. Now the Tie Fighter will be available.
Unlock First Bonus Mission
Enter ” PYST?OOO” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “DUCKSHOT” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep. Now the first Bonus Mission will be available.
Unlock All Normal Levels
Enter ” !??QWTTJ” as a passcode. R2D2 will not beep for this passcode. Return to the passcode screen and enter “CLASSIC” as a second passcode. If you entered the code correctly, R2D2 will beep. Now all levels will be unlocked, excluding Bonus Missions. (Submitted by Spazdude)
View Credits
Enter “THATSME!” as a passcode.
Documentary
Enter “?INSIDER” as a passcode.
Art Gallery
Enter “EXHIBIT!” as a passcode.
In-Game Audio Commentary
Type in “BLAHBLAH” to toggle an In-game audio commentary by the creators.
Music Test
Enter “COMPOSER” for a music test in the “Special Features” section.
Monochrome Graphics
Enter “LIONHEAD” as a password.
Unlockables
Currently we have no unlockables for Star Wars Rogue Leader: Rogue Squadron II yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
Easter eggs
Currently we have no easter eggs for Star Wars Rogue Leader: Rogue Squadron II yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
Glitches
Slave 1 Glitch On Endurance
On the Death Star Endurance level, if playing as the Slave 1, your ship will freeze until you fire your lazer cannon or secondary weapon, or try to move. When you do either of these things, you will barely move forward, and will explode! I thought this was pretty funny.
Guides
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
0 notes