#excuse me Dutch you wanna go kick rocks

[natromanxoff]

25 - Just Chatting...

Hello one and all.

It's been a long time since I graced these pages and, believe it or not, nothing much has been happening in my life, apart from the odd soiree or two. Winter has finally left us and spring has sprung, and it's nice to see the sun again. Let's start by wishing my old mate a happy birthday and I hope you all had a little drinkie for him, I know I did. In fact I got legless, he would have been proud of me. Whenever we were in London there was always a party at Fred's on his birthday, be it a handful of friends, or one where he invited half of Britain, but which ever one it was there was always a good time to be had and a lot of chaos. One year he actually took over Pikes Hotel in Ibiza and chartered a private plane to fly his friends in. Roger and myself were already on the island recording some of his solo stuff so we didn't have far to travel to the bash. When I say we were working, it's kind of true as we spent a lot of time on his boat "Ga Ga" whizzing around having lunch and fun. The party was held outside around the swimming pool, now is that an invite for trouble or what? There were hundreds of balloons hanging from every available fixture, and of course there is always an idiot that thinks he's a clown. This particular clown, who will remain nameless, decided it would be funny to light one of the balloons, and needless to say the whole lot went up in flames. Phoebe and Crystal to the rescue. We had to get this "fire" off the wooden rafters before the whole hotel went up in smoke, so we were pulling bits of string while burning rubber was dripping down on us. I was so traumatised by the whole event I had to have another drink ....... a lame excuse I know, but hey, it's my story. Back to the pool. Edwin Shirley, of trucking fame and also an all round good guy after a few too many, decided to have a swim, so he removed his clothing and was flapping around the pool when some daft countess told him to get dressed and behave himself. Wrong move lady. Edwin was not impressed by his telling off and threw her in, and she was even less impressed with that and started ranting and raving, much to the amusement to the rest of the party hounds. She left with her tail between her legs and didn't look at all glamorous in her soaking wet dress, running makeup and failed hairdo. We continued till mid morning and went straight to the airport and caught a flight home. Thanks F for the great parties and good times, you will never be forgotten.

I still get asked a lot if I'm gonna write the "Real" story about Queen. Well the answer is no, and the reason is that the guys gave me a great job and a great life and I have far to much respect for them, their wives/girlfriends, children and families to tell the world what we got up to in private. I feel that is our business and ours alone. Most of us are all in relationships and telling tales could make life awkward for a few people, band and crew alike. I'm sure at some point in time someone from the organisation will write a book, have 5 minutes of fame and make a quick buck, but it sure as hell won't be me, and I'll still be able to sleep at night and when I see the guys I will still be free to say, "Wanna beer MATE."

I've had a few questions asked me that I'm gonna answer quickly.

First off is "Do you have any stories about Freddies cats? (ripping furniture etc.)" Here's a good reply, No. So moving right along, "Of all the famous people you've met, who impressed you the most?" Tricky one this. After years in this "Biz" they all become "Just normal people," and some become good pals, but on one occasion I was in Paul McCartneys studio and I was handed his violin bass and I was sitting there holding it when someone said, "Paul is left handed, hold it like he would." When I turned it around, still taped in the cutout was the Beatles set list from their days in Hamburg, now that impressed me.

Deaky and myself were the only two reggae lovers in the outfit, and Bob Marley turned up to see the show at Madison Square Gardens. Strange choice of show for Bob, but he loved Another one bites the dust, and he happened to be in New York on a stopover on his way to Germany for laser treatment. Show time and our intro tape was playing, and someone told JD that Bob was in the audience, so he cranked his bass up and played "Lively up yourself" over the tape. This was very possibly the last time Marley ever heard this played as he died shortly after. I didn't get to meet him, but I did get to meet Tyrone Downie, Bobs keyboard player in the Wailers, and Tyrone and myself got up to all sorts of mischief that night. RT on the other hand hates reggae music, but I did manage to drag him to the Circus Krone in Munich to see Peter Tosh. I loved it, he hated it. I look at this as payback because years before he insisted that I went to Hammersmith Odeon to see Laurie Anderson, of O Superman fame. This show he loved, but I put it alongside Cher as one of the worst concerts I have ever seen. Needless to say I have also met a couple of stars that I didn't see eye to eye with. Like the American rock star we encountered in a club one night, and he was such a pain I had to take him into the toilets to have a quiet word with him. He finally got the message so I released my hand from around his neck and let him drop back down to the ground. To finish this segment I wanna tell you something that Bev Bevan said. Bev was the drummer with ELO, and them and us were touring the US at the same time, and as it turned out, staying in the same hotel in one city. Roger and myself were leaving the hotel and waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened Bev was in there and him and RT said their hellos. Rog then said, "Bev, this is Crystal, he looks after me." Bev turned to me, shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you. If it wasn't for guys like you, guys like us wouldn't be where we are today." He didn't need to say that, and was genuine when he did. I wasn't impressed with meeting him, but he is certainly in my top ten of nicest people I have ever meet.

Over the last few months I've spent a lot of time in the Chatroom, and I highly recommend it to you all as it can be a bit of a laugh. For anyone who has never visited the room please remember a couple of things, if you come in and start swearing you will be kicked out. I know, it happens to me all the time. Also don't come in and start going on about knowing axemen and murderers and other such garbage, cause that also warrants a kicking. Some buffoon from Ireland, who went by the name of "Death" turned up with an attitude and was going on about how f***ing awesome Queen were at Slane Castle. He was not known by anyone in there so I asked him to watch his language. He said he was the Grim Reaper and could do and say what he liked, so I told him otherwise and he was most put out when I kicked him. What a fool. A while ago there was some prat who called himself F***queen, good name eh! Anyway, he/she/it was picking on a lovely young lady called Raisa, and was saying some awful things to her and completely freaked her out, so I went to her defence and FQ turned the attention my way. As far as I'm concerned it's only letters on a screen and it didn't phase me at all, but at least he/she/it gave up on Raisa. In all fairness to FQ, whoever you may be, he/she left a message on the Bulletin Board saying sorry to Raisa and myself and would never do it again. So FQ, from the both of us, thanks for the apology, we accept it. What other weirdos have we had? Well, there was a brightspark who decided it would be funny to use the nickname QueenRshite, another bad move from this person who was honoured with a ban.

While in there I've seen a lot of friendships made, and a couple that have fallen apart. I got a private message one evening from a very drunk girl who, how shall we phrase this, offered me her body and wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to me, I thanked her and declined...must be getting old or something. I have also witnessed relationships being made and, usually there is a lot of humour involved, but needless to say some arguments do occur. I have also seen some of the daftest things said. One guy was so convinced that one of the regulars was either Deaky or she was chatting with him in private that he actually started tracking her every move on the net. He also told me about some highly illegal activities he was up to concerning the band. I wouldn't have thought I was the best person to tell such stuff to, and needless to say I had a go at him. Just to add to his stupidity he's been recently boasting about his affair with an underage girl, and I reckon if he had any more sense he would be half witted. Having mentioned all the twits I'd like to say a quick hello to all the regulars, White Queen and Killer Queen, the lovely girls Blue Rock and Rannnnnnni, SQJan, Mayflower and her boys, Farookh (aka Leroy Brown) MarshMallow, the three Tigers - Babe, Lily and Stripes and the mighty Falc, also to all the rest who I haven't mentioned by name, you know who you are. I'd also like to say hi to Daddy Cool who is the singer in the Dutch cover band Miracle, and Dad, if you never make it as a singer you could make a great career from being a stand up comedian. Finally an extra special hello to the gorgeous MTB, who is about to make an honest man of me ;)

Before I go I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone of a certain date in November that is engraved in all of our minds. And I know that a lot of you will be heading to Garden Lodge to leave flowers. I don't wanna preach and tell you what to do, and I know flowers are a nice gesture, but they do die and the only people to really benefit from this is the florist. This year lets all give a donation, no matter how small, to Aids research, this way the cash will be used to try and stamp out this awful disease. If you really wanna leave flowers, buy a smaller, cheaper bunch and donate the balance of what you would have spent to these charities. It's been said a million times before but it is true, Every penny counts.

As always, Loadsa Love.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #peter freestone #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x F!OC} Chapter 20

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

.....

Chapter 20

Arthur was more alert by the sixth day. Deciding to stay seated most of the time but also getting up to wander around camp with the aid of someone else, despite his displeasure of ‘needing to be babied’ as he put it. He was sitting up in his cot, his back leaning against the wagon with his journal in his lap. Sketching something by the looks of it with the way he carried the pencil across the page and his brows furrowed in intense concentration. He wanted the hangings to be tied back during the day now to let in some fresh air and probably not to feel as alone. He was always the most relaxed when he poured his thoughts and scribbled his findings into that little leather-bound book. No doubt keeping him grounded when everything around him became too chaotic to control. Glad I asked last night if I could see some of his newer drawings despite his soft protests that they weren’t anything worth looking at. The real Arthur laid within those pages. His attention turned to me as I made my way over with two bowls of stew. A smile gracing his face as he closed his journal and placed it beside him. 

“Went hunting with Charles this morning. Venison instead of rabbit so hopefully it’s slightly more edible.” I said, handing the bowl to him with a smile to match his. 

We sat in silence as we ate, both of us watching the others go about their business all around us. Abigail and John having yet another argument. Molly with her ever-faithful pocket mirror open in her hand as she fixed her hair for the hundredth time today. I never spoke to Molly the whole time being here, but it didn't take long to realise she only wanted the attention of one person here. Sean and Karen sat eating together by the fire, the latter laughing at whatever the former had just said. Javier cleaning his knife. 

Micah sulking outside of Dutchs tent as usual. Looking like a lap dog with separation issues. 

“Yer hairs nice.” He said quietly beside me, pulling me back from my observations. 

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips, looking down to continue eating. 

“Thought it could help me be less recognisable.”

“Well, it looks nice on ya. Not that ya didn't before - just - smart idea,” He was stumbling over his words, stopping with a sigh and rolling his shoulder. 

He was starting to regain more movement and he was determined to keep it moving despite the pain. No doubt the whiskey he was constantly drinking helped.  Seeing him in constant pain from even minute movements had the guilt rattling within me. I needed to tell him. 

Placing my almost empty bowl down on the table I looked back out to the camp. Taking in a deep breath before speaking.

“I’ve been thinking...something needs to be done with Frank.” 

“You still wanting to kill him?”

“Well, yes,” I sighed “But, I don’t know. He won’t give up, that's clear enough.”

“Seeking revenge don’t help anyone. We will deal with him when the time comes.”

“When will that be? When others are hurt from his orders? When someone is killed?” He sighed then, his shoulders slumping. I watched him and waited. Maybe he had a plan or needed time to think of one. One thing was sure, Frank needed to be gone. 

“Let’s go down to the lake.”

We both walk along the lakeside, making sure to take it slow. His energy was still drained from the ordeal and healing and it would take a couple of weeks till he feels more like himself, but he knew that the injury would affect him for months if not the rest of his life. I know why he's suggested a walk and it's not just so he can escape from the constant noise at camp. But no matter how he tries I can't take my mind off what needs to be done. Living in fear until I or someone else is hurt because of this. I took some deep breaths, letting the fresh open air fill my lungs to steady myself in the hopes the waves of panic will be soothed.

“I want to thank you again for bringing me here that night,” I started with a breath, carelessly kicking the rocks at my feet. He hummed for me to continue.

“I’m a different person from who I was not so long ago. You didn't need to entertain what I was asking that night, never mind help me, but you did and it’s a kindness I don’t think I can repay. These people and the things I have learned, I just know I’m a stronger person because of it and it’s mainly thanks to you and I know I have the ability to actually stand up for myself thi-”

“Bella…” He interrupted to stop my rambling knowing full well I didn't even know I was. Total word vomit instead of saying what needed to be said. 

Another breath

“I’m going to go back,”

He stopped beside me but didn't speak. Expecting me to laugh and say ‘haha fooled you’ but this was no joke. I waited for some sort of reply but instead, he gave out an annoyed huff, looking down at his feet and then out over the lake as he shifted on his feet. Either from him still being weak or from the growing aggravation that was evident from the scowl on his face I did not know.

“I have to-”

“No.”

“Arthur I can’t just si-”

“Are you a fool? You really think going back to him is the smartest idea?”

“If it means you and everyone else will be safe. Yes.”

“I don’t know where your head has been all this time but in case you aren’t aware this life we live ain’t been safe for a long time. We been fighting O’Driscolls for years an’ that ain’t stoppin’. Pinkertons breathing down our necks and you really think we will be any safer if you go back to that sorry excuse of a man?”

I tried to think of something, anything, to say, but my mouth just kept bobbing open and closed like a fish desperate for water.

“And what about your safety?” he continued with a raised voice, taking a few steps forward to close the gap slightly. Making sure no words of his would be lost between us.

“You believe going back to him is better than having me and the others here to protect you?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat and taking in an unsteady breath, I looked away from him and out into the horizon beyond the lake. The reds and oranges filling the clouded sky as the sun began to settle beyond the edge. The distant haze dulling what would be a vibrant and beautiful night thus bringing the promise that the day’s end would be a dark and unsettled one. My mind felt just as hazy. 

“This is all my fault,” I whispered to myself, to him and to the descending sun. 

“You’re staying here where I know you will be safe” he concluded with a snarl in his voice then turning on his heels back towards camp.

Keeping my eyes on the lake I couldn’t watch him walk away again. My shoulders slumping and determined to not let tears well in my eyes to the point of falling. What did I expect? I had to tell him in the hopes he would have a better idea of dealing with this. Instead, I just got reprimanded like a child and left in the dirt, again. 

I couldn’t face walking back into camp just yet so I made my way to the jetty, sitting on the edge with my feet just skimming the water’s surface. Keeping my eyes on the haze as it engulfed everything in the distance. 

I must have been there for hours, the nights chill had set in for good and the crescent moon was giving us whatever light it could reflect. Everything was in black and white. 

Footsteps on the jetty behind me caught my attention and a voice followed.

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

It was Abigail, coming to a stop behind me but still giving me some space. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

I just shook my head. 

“Ya know, talking about your worries does help. I know that’s rich coming from me since John and I shout at each other more than we talk.”  

I shook my head again, not able to trust my own voice. It was silent between us for a few moments, the only sound being the water lapping at the shore. I thought she might have left knowing she wasn’t going to get anything out of me until I heard her steady inhale. 

“This is a nice place to clear your head or get your head in order. Arthur was sat out here just this morning, drawing in that little book of his... Drawing you.” She paused then, waiting for a reply that wouldn’t come before giving up and continuing.

“I’ve been with this gang for many years. He truly cares about you.” 

Then she left, her slow footsteps getting quieter and quieter until all I could hear was the water again. Lower lip now quivering. 

I stayed in that spot for a while longer, could have been a few hours. The moon now high in the sky when I turned my head towards the camp. It looked quiet. Everyone must have been asleep by now. 

So I made my way over, the chill now felt in my bones as I made my way over to my tent. Glancing around the camp to see it empty and quiet apart from the recognisable snores thanks to Uncle.

Everyone was asleep. 

I didn't have much to pack. A few clothes and my gun. Tearing a blank page from one of the books Hosea gave me I scribbled hastily onto it. 

The coast was clear as I slowly made my way out of the tent, making sure not to wake the girls nearby by keeping my footfalls mute. 

But before making my way to the horses I made my way over to Arthurs tent. No light escaping from the bottom of the drapes that were closed meant he must have been asleep. 

I peeked inside to see him on his back with a blanket thrown over him. His breathing deep.

Step by step I made my way inside, watching over his sleeping form as I placed the scribbled on paper on the table, the flower in the jar taking place as a paperweight.

Glancing at him one last time before leaving and making a beeline towards the horses. 

Someone would be on guard but I wasted no time as I mounted Orion and made my way through the trees so I wouldn’t be seen by whoever was stood on the pathways. Withholding myself from looking back.

@kashasenpai @fallout-cowgirl @averyspicybaguette

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan x fem oc

[dar-manda-rjct]

A Ginger and Some Ale (Molly O'Shea x Reader)

Pairings: Molly O'Shea x GN!Reader

A/N: *slams fists on table* MOLLY O'SHEA DESERVES THE WORLD AND A COOL GIRLFRIEND TO WISK HER AWAY FROM DUTCH'S STINKY BUTT! THATS ALL. I also listened to "Molly's Lips" by Nirvana because all i wanna do is smooch her-- god she deserves the world and now im rambling SORRY.

Warnings: Manipulation, mental abuse?

BTW: this is gender neutral, i was just thinking about a woman when writing this bc molly needs a loving gf-- OH and fluff, tons of fluff. also, there mite be typos, i only proofread like twice :P

ENJOY!!!

There he was again. Ignoring his beautiful Irish sweetheart for his ex-lover, Susan, as they danced to the blaring gramophone. It could have been a platonic dance for all their audience knew, but that didn't matter. His girlfriend sat on their shared bed with aristocratic class, one pale hand cupped around her bright pocket mirror, fighting to keep her gaze on herself, while the other bit into the various cattle, buck and rabbit pelts that scattered the thin canvas mattress.

The damsel deserved better no doubt. The sophistication in her wardrobe, posture and appearance stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the motley crew of outlaws, assassins and thieves. It was something of a relief to you that she didn't go out on jobs, not in fear she would break a nail or anything. There was a sort of possessive side you had with the refined ginger, the blood always rushing to your face and fists every time Dutch spat something cruel to her.

All she did was love him.

He didn't deserve her.

There was a bit of beer in your system that night, two bottles. An "easy" little job with Bill earlier that day quickly went south, the two of you barely making it out with your lives. You, miraculously made it out with both your life and the money, desperate to get home and drink the adrenaline away.

Molly sighed, biting her scarlet lip and looked away to the lake before getting up and walking to the wet bank. It wasn't a sigh of exasperation, it was quivering, as if tears were threatening to break from a tight knot in her throat.

That did it.

You practically launched off of the chair you sat in, away from the table you acquainted, speed-walking between Strauss and Dutch's tent towards the lake where Molly stood, rocking in place with her arms crossed. Slowing as you approached, you cleared your throat to announce your presence, the Irishwoman whipping around to meet your warm, welcoming gaze.

If anyone else caught her tearing herself up she would usually shuffle away, but not with you. It gave you hope. She stayed at your side wiping at the tears that distorted her vision before they could stream trails down her cheeks and disturb her delicately powdered cheeks. Your fingers played with your gun belt, fumbling idly against the worn leather to try and think of something to say before looking up past the brim of your hat to the lake.

"See how the moon bounces off the water? It doesn't swim in it despite its powerful light. The water's impenetrable," you murmured, kicking at the damp clay with your boot heel, heat migrating to your cheeks as you realized how stupid you sounded.

Molly scoffed, "What'sat got to do with me?" Her shaking tone betrayed her attempt at an inconsolable one, her arms retreating to cross over her chest.

You smiled bittersweetly, the right corner dominating the other, "I'm saying you shouldn't let him walk all over you, miss O'Shea."

She hissed, "Call me Molly. And he isn't walking over me, he's just stressed out recently."

"Please," you spat, "how many times has he promised you, 'Let me get this rope off my neck first,' or 'How could you be so selfish to think about yourself when I got people gunnin' for me!' It's bullshit, Molly."

The woman with copper locks fell silent at your livid snarl, her tongue swiping over her front teeth before swallowing, "He'll change."

"Stop making excuses for him, 'cause he won't." You turned to her, ducking more to her level, your eyes full of urgent sympathy, "He's a grown ass man, sweetpea. If he can't realize the wonderful woman at his side right now then he never will."

Her emerald gaze snapped to you, her brows furrowed, "You think I'm a wonderful woman?"

You scoffed, as if the thought of her thinking otherwise was physically impossible, "Are you kidding? You stay at his side through the thick and thin-- he's got bounty hunters, lawmen and Pinkertons so far up his ass you can see them when he yawns. Yet you risk your life to stay at his side-- and when you ask for something in return he tells you to screw off."

Molly was silent, staring up at you with her painted lips gaped in wonder as her deep green eyes searched your features. It was as if she was sifting your own for a sliver of doubt, there wasn't the smallest grain of it anywhere in your eyes. Your brows were furrowed and your gaze hardened with weighty insistence, your knuckles getting whiter as they coiled tighter around your gun belt. The thought of that greasy chainsmoker looking at Molly as if she were less of a human being made that rage tower higher and higher.

"I don't know what to say," she mumbled, her arms uncrossing, hands falling to play with themselves, green pools retreating to the writhing reflection of the moons light on the lake.

Your eyes danced over her soft features, a warm smile returning across your face at the soft blush over her cheeks, you offered your right hand, "Will you dance with me?"

Molly looked back to you, before glancing back at Dutch, dancing with Susan, a grin falling over his lips underneath his dark moustache, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. Oh, how it made her insides boil. Finally, she looked back to you, looking down at your hand, her gaped lips melting into a warm smile, green eyes sparkling. It brought a smile to yourself, the fiery hatred for Dutch's behavior immediately snuffed. She was all that mattered right now.

"Yes," her lips parted in a wide smile as she took your hand, the right one moving to your shoulder as your left gently gripped her hip, your eyes never leaving hers.

That smile was sweeter than ale.

#javiescuellx #we writin boys😎👊 #mobile tumblr? yes #no cut bc im a noob :]

[modharlow]

Today was one of those days again. The sky looked stormy yet shed no rain, the sun barely peeking out for a second before sheltering itself away. People were bustling about to do their everyday work, all seeming to enjoy themselves. Oh, how you wish that were you, but alas it was not. No, you were out here, passing through Valentine, because some sorry excuse of a father left the camp again. “Probably drunk off his ass again.” You lowly hissed out.

When Charles came up to Dutch and reported the missing man, the leaders eyes happened to fall on you to retrieve him. Fortunately he also sent Arthur with you. “I trust you kid,” Dutch started off as he lead you to your horse, “but not enough to believe you won’t kick Mr. Swanson’s ass.”

Well… at least he was cautious because he was right. If it had been just you, you would’ve beat the man black and blue—mostly out of anger but if you happen to fix whatever the hell was going on in that mans brain then that’d work fine too.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied hands on him, though you never want “too far”. Given everything he’d done, or hasn’t done for better words, you going easy on him was a mercy.

”Aw, now now, little birdy,” Arthur’s voice cut through your thoughts, “I know that face. Don’t tell me you plannin’ on killin’ him this time?” His tone was joking but you couldn’t help the silent “and if I do?” that came out.

Letting out a whistle, the outlaw adjusted his hat. “You ever gonna tell me what’s the bad blood between you two?”

”On my deathbed, maybe.”

”Don’t be like that.” He replied, his tone growing soft. “He’s still your father. Doesn’t help that he’s always drunk, I know, but he’s tryin’.”

You swore you’ve never felt such hot rage boil deep inside your veins. Your knuckles turned white from your grip in the horses’ reins and your teeth clenched down to prevent you from shouting at your friend. “Arthur,” your voice was tense, just like your body, “don’t be defendin’ that man when you’ve no reason.”

The ride was silent now, save for the goodhearted people that said hello to either of you as you passed, until you both made it out of town.

Arthur let out a long sigh before taking lead and changing the direction you both were going. “C’mon, we’re gonna talk this out, you ‘nd me.”

”Arthur-”

”We’ll find him, trust me. We always do. Right now you just need to explain to me why the hell you hate his guts so much when neither of you even look at each other.”

You took note at the new destination. It was somewhere away from the roads, perfect for a private talk.

Now it was your turn to let out a long sigh. You didn’t say anything until you both ended up by some trees. From there Arthur got off his horse and motioned for you to do the same. When you did he sat both you down at the foot of a tree, perfectly protected from prying ears and the possible rain if it were to happen.

Leaning his head against the tree, Arthur spoke. “When you joined our camp you were so happy, so giddy. You didn’t have a care in the world. It was… nice. A nice change of pace.”

”I was young then. I didn’t understand anythin’.”

”What makes you think you understand now?”

Scoffing, you turned away from him brought your knees to your chest. Silently, you said, “I understand enough to know he’s a dead-beat dad.”

”Feel like elaboratin’?”

It became silent again. The horses were eating grass as the tree swayed itself side-to-side, birds flying overhead in a mixture of dull colors. All were unaware of the grief and burning hatred you held inside.

Taking in a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you started to pick at the dirt and rocks in the ground. “I was four when mama died.” You breathed out. “I didn’t know that’s what it was. Just thought she was nappin’, y’know? She’d always seemed so… tired.” You faintly turned to face Arthur. “Was like she lost her light.” A soft chuckle filled the moment. “Guess in the end… she did, huh?”

”I’m… Listen, I-”

”You wanna know how she died, Arthur?” You were facing him now, your face calm yet the grip you had on a spare rock from the ground said otherwise. “She used the exact mechanisms my father’s usin’ right now.” You turned your attention to the rock in your hands, fingers nimbly toying with it. “Turns out, you know, that she didn’t want a child. She wanted to be free… but was tied down because of me—and dad? Oh, well, he had his teachings to do. No, he could never come home on time or spend some moments with his only kid.” You tossed the rock away from you, your eyes narrowing to keep yourself at bay. “Don’t think he wanted a child either.”

”Now that ain’t true.” Arthur interjected before flinching slightly at your glare yet not faltering. “I dunno about your mama but Reverend loves you.”

”If he loved me then why the hell are we out here having to look for his sorry ass?!” You yelled, getting up from your spot and walking away a few steps. “If he loved me then why was he never there for me? When men would be lookin’ at me weirdly, or when kids would hurt me ‘cause I only had one parent? What about when I was almost kidnapped ‘cause his dumbass had a damn “meeting” to go too, huh?”

Arthur got up too with his hands held up in surrender as he took careful steps towards you. “Easy now. It’s okay. You’re okay.” But his words fell on deaf ears as you let your pent up emotions explode inside you.

”I was six when I learned what death was. I tried killin’ myself, then tried again a few months later. I was eight when I tried to talk to him only for him to push me away. I was nine when I ran away before comin’ back. It’s funny, you know, ‘cause it was like he didn’t notice I was gone.” You swallowed down the sob that desparely wanted to come out, instead letting whimpers leave your mouth. “I was fourteen when I realized he didn’t care for me. He never did, he only worries about himself—if you can even call whatever he’s doin’, “worrying”.”

You furiously wiped at your eyes, teeth eating away at your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying more. “Arthur. Arthur, I’m bein’ honest when I say this,” you took in a shaky breath, “I’ve dreamt of killin’ him. I’ve always felt free when I did it, too. It felt so refreshin’ to me. Was like chains were melted off and I could finally run again. It’s a feelin’ I chase after every time we have to look for him.”

When you looked up at Arthur with those vulnerable eyes, he was at a loss for words. He thinks back to his own memories of you being that happy-go-lucky kid he grew up with and felt his chest tighten. So was that all a facade so you could hide away your pain? How had he not noticed to sooner? Did anyone else know? Dutch? Hosea? You were close to those two but… did you ever really let them in?

”I’m… I’m sorry, I…” Those were not the words he wanted to say. Truly, he didn’t know what to say. He knew Swanson was not an ideal father but this—this is how you were treated? How you lived your life? “I don’t… know what to say.”

”No one ever does.”

After a short pause, Arthur felt his own anger begin to form when your died down. “Why the hell do we still keep him ‘round then? If he’s like this to you, then why don’t we just get rid of him? You’re the only one we really need. You hunt, fish, and you can even haggle someone almost as well as Hosea! He doesn’t do shit-”

”Arthur, I thank you for feelin’ my anger for me but it’s… I hate him, I do, but it’s more complex than that.” Now you felt bad for pulling your friend along with your emotions. You should’ve kept your mouth shut like you always had, only showing anger when it was just you and your dad alone.

Huffing, Arthur let his hands hold onto his belt as he leaned on his foot. “Well… we got all the time in the world for you to talk.”

While you dried off your wet face with your sleeve, you tried to formulate the correct words. “It’s… hard to explain. If he’s gone then… I’ll have no more blood-family. ‘Nd despite everythin’, well, he still let me go with him to join Dutch when he could’ve left me.” You voice trailed off, your eyes straying from the looks Arthur was giving you. “I-I know, okay? It’s idiotic for me to feel like this even after all that’s happened but I just—I can’t leave him to fend for himself. He lost his wife, ‘nd now I’m all that he has. Even if we don’t talk…”

”I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.” Arthur muttered as he took steps towards you. “I ain’t ever been in your boots so I guess I can’t say much but,” cautiously, he put his arms around you, “if you ever want his ass gone, just say so. Or if you… if you wanna leave ‘nd let him stay with the gang then… that’s alright. Just tell me beforehand, okay? I’d be mighty down if you up and left without a goodbye.”

You nodded your head while you returned the hug. Your eyelids stung and your body felt heavy from your outbursts of emotions, though you couldn’t deny how safe you felt right at this moment.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of being openly loved by someone you held dear to you.

Arthur had been your first since you were first welcomed to the gang and a side of you berated yourself for keeping silent from him for so long. Still, within these moments, you felt alright. You felt… free. “I won’t leave. Not when I have someone like you lookin’ out for me.” You tried to bury yourself deep into his chest, wanting to stay with this comfort for much longer. Softly, you whispered out, “Thank you.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdrii #red dead ii #red dead redemption ii #rdr2 imagines #red dead 2 imagines #red red redemption 2 imagines #rdrii imagines #red dead ii imagines #red dead redemption ii imagines #mod harlow #suicide // #child neglect // #child abuse // #maybe? #implied child abuse // #JUST IN CASE... #anyways I have daddy issues and hate my dad sorry Swanson u two are just v similar #Arthur hold me challenge

[iofferwith-blog]

Raekwon Only Built 4 Cuban Linx

New Post has been published on http://iofferwith.xyz/raekwon-only-built-4-cuban-linx/

Raekwon Only Built 4 Cuban Linx

Raekwon 첫 솔로앨범 Only Built 4 Cuban Linx (1995년)

  Let’s kick that old school shit

  힙합클래식 중 손꼽히는 앨범

랩 가사야 릴웨인의 영향으로 많이많이 발전 했지만

그래도 힙합은 옛날 90년대 음악을 제일 좋아합니��

요즘 힙합은 개인적으로 잘 안듣습니다

편식이 심해진거 같아요

  뭐 어쨌든 힙합하면 떠오르는 이미지가 게토생활의 힘든 삶 정도가 아닐까

그런 느낌을 가장 제대로 살린게 골든에라 90년대 힙합 이란 말이지요

그래서 아직까지도 그때의 향수를 가지고 있고 느끼고 즐기고 있습니다

오랫만에 올드한 느낌의 뮤직비디오 즐겨 보세요

            Raekwon – Ice Cream

  [Intro: Method Man (Johnny Blaze)]

Hey mom, can I have some money? The ice cream man is coming!

[Chorus:]

Watch these rap niggaz get all up in your guts French-vanilla, butter-pecan, chocolate-deluxe Even caramel sundaes is gettin touched And scooped in my ice cream truck, Wu tears it up (The ice cream man is coming!)

[Verse One: Ghostface Killer (Tony Starks)]

Yo honey-dips, summertime, fine Jheri drippin See you on Pickens with a bunch of chickens how you’re clickin I catch shootin strong notes as we got close She rocked rope, honey throat smellin like Impulse Your whole shell baby’s wicked like Nimrod Caught me like a fresh-water scrod, or may I not be God Attitude is very rude Boo, crabby like seafood It turns me on like Vassey and Lahrule They call me Starky Love-hun, check the strategy By any means, Shirley Temple cross was done by Billie Jean’s Black Misses America, your name is Erica, right true Lazy eyeball, small piece, six shoe Caramel complexion, breath smellin like cinnamon Excuse me hon, the Don mean no harm, turn around again God damn, backyard’s bangin like a Benz-y If I was jiggy, you’d be spotted like Spudz McKenzie I’m high powered put Adina Howard to sleep Yo pardon, that bitch been on my mind all week, but uhh Back to you Maybelline Queen let’s make a team You can have anything in this world except CREAM So whatchu wanna do? Whatchu wanna do? Let’s go ahead and walk these dogs and represent Wu

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef (Lou Diamonds)]

Shaolin’s finest, whattup Boo, peace your highness Yo I’m loungin, big dick style, y’all niggaz is the flyest Moves you’re making too fly jewels are shaking not a rape patient, you’re looking good fly colored Asian Ghettoes, them is your hometown, we can go the whole round After that, I’m shootin downtown I’m rockin hats and you wig is all intact Who’s that queen bee chick, eyes curly black Freaks be movin in fly sneaks Two finger rings and gold teeth, and ain’t afraid to hold heat So when I step in the square dear You better have CREAM to share, Ricans, ven aqui yeah

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Cappachino]

Black chocolate girl wonder, shade brown like Thunder Politic til your deficit step, gimme your number Your sexy persuasive ta-ta’s and thighs Catch my eyes like highs I want your bodily surprise Double dime some time, Ice Cream you got me fallin out like a cripple, I love you like I love my dick size ooh baby I miss you, your sweet tender touches take pulls off the dutches, orgasm in my mindstate masterbate in your clutches, I want you for self like wealth, so play me closely Bitches paranoia for the sting, who want the most of me Only a hard dozen want to be callin me cousin Thirsty for my catalog, baby shoppin spree you’re lovin Call me if you want to get dug like the pockets I jizm like a giant break brooms out of their sockets

[Outro: Method Man]

Wu-Tang in the cut, for real niggaz what? It’s the after party and bitches want to fuck

[Chorus:]

Ice cold bitches melt down when my clutch and what they titties sucked, ice cream

Yeah, your guts

[Chorus: 3/4ths]

Ice cold bitches melt down when in the clutch They want they titties sucked, ice cream

One love to my chocolate deluxes, keep your nails done and your wigs tight, word up One love to my butter-pecan Ricans for calling me papi That’s for real One love to caramel sundaes, with the cherries on top Yeah And big up to my french vanillas Parlez vous, francais, mi amor, merci, oui oui, bon bons and all that good stuff That good stuff

    Criminology

[Intro: Raekwon (plus sample of Tony Montana having an argument)]

“I told you a long time ago you fuckin little monkey not to FUCK ME.” “Hey hey, who the FUCK you think you goin for huh??!” “Who the fuck you think I am your fuckin dough-boy?” “You wanna go to war?…. Wanna go to war, OK?”

Comin up on half a mil, we build Get real God, taking you on another one Son Uhh, Julio Igleasias Makin CREAM like that nigga

[Verse One: Ghostface Killah] Yo, first of all son, peep the arson Many brothers I be sparkin and bustin mad light inside the dark Call me dough snatcher, just the brother for the rapture I handglide, holdin on strong, hard to capture Extravagant, RZA bake the track and it’s militant Then I react, like a convict, and start killin shit It’s manifested, the Gods work like appliances Dealin in my cypher I revolve around sciences The 9th chamber, leave you trapped inside my hallway You try to flee but you got smoked up by the doorway (blaow! blaow! blaow!) No question, I send your ass back, right to the essence Your whole frame is smothered in dirt, now how you restin While I’ll be trapped by sounds, locked behind loops Throwin niggaz off airplanes cause +Cash Rules Everything Around Me+ black, as you can see Swallow this murder one verse like God Degree Then analyze my soundtrack for satisfaction You adapt like a flashback chain reaction

[Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef] Just a minute son… AK’s black bust back like seventy Macs I’m all that, street niggaz knowin my steez black Ron G, you know he coincide with me see Marvelous, Menace fo’ Society But anyway, let’s toast, champagne thoughts with Ghost I max the most shotguns through the nose Phonograph hip-hop put me on top ‘Lo wears, and Tommy Hil fly shit with a knot The witty unpredictable live shit, drive by shit Do or die shit, I’ll take your lie and shit And then you know, I’m runnin through the penal, foul Four-toothed child was wild The old lady snitched, but fuck it, you know it, one love kid No I’m not doin a bid Too much to get for what cause six niggaz got stuck, and the nigga chain was truck Yo fuck that, Criminology rap Speakers stay jet black floatin in the flyest Ac’ Nigga… bring it! Yeah..

[Outro: Raekwon] Much love go to New York City All my Tommy Hil’ ice rockin niggaz

      incarcerated scarfaces

  [Intro Two: Raekwon the Chef] Knock niggaz out the box all the time Bitches on my motherfuckin records Pah Big ones, yeah, big fuckers Straight up, fuck your whole team Yeah bust it Yo, yo, fly G.I. niggaz

[Chorus: Raekwon the Chef] Now yo yo, whattup yo, time is runnin out It’s for real though, let’s connect politic – ditto! We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases Word up, peace incarcerated scarfaces

[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef] Thug related style attract millions Fans, they understand my plan Who’s the kid up in the green Land? Me and the RZA connect, blow a fuse, you lose Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised Fake be frontin, hourglass heads niggaz be wantin Shuttin down your slot; time for pumpin Poisonous sting which thumps up and act chumps Raise a heavy generator But yo, guess who’s the black Trump? Dough be flowin by the hour’s Wu, we got the collars, scholars Word life, peace to power and my whole unit Word up! Quick to set it, don’t wet it Real niggaz lick shots, peace Connecticut

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef] Chef’ll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable Real niggaz raise up, spend your money, argue But this time is for the uninvited Go head and rhyme to it, big nigga mics is gettin fired Morphine chicks be burnin like chlorine Niggaz recognize from here to Baltimore to Fort Greene But hold up, Moet be tastin like throw-up My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up Ya never had no wins, slidin in these dens wit Timbs Wit Mac-10’s and broke friends Ya got guns, got guns too, what up son, do you wanna battle for cash and see who Sun too? I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggaz who fax niggaz lyrics is wack nigga Can’t stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin Scud missles You rollin like Trump, you get your meat lumped For real, it’s just slang rap democracy Here’s the policy, slide off the ring, plus the Wallabees Check the status, soon to see me at Caesar’s Palace eatin salads We beatin mics and the keys to Dallas I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell From where we at to my man’s cell From staircase to stage, minimun wage But soon to get a article in RapPage But all I need is my house, my gat, my Ac Bank account fat – it’s goin’ down like that And pardon the French but let me speak Italian Black Stallion, dwellin on Shaolin That means the island of Staten And niggaz carry gats and mad police from Manhattan

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef] I do this for barber shop niggaz in the Plaza Catchin asthma, Rae is stickin gun-flashers Well-dressed, skatin through the projects wit big ones Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one upstairs, swithc like a chameleon Hip Brazilians, pass the cash or leave your children Leave the buildin Niggaz, yo they be foldin’ like envelopes under pressure Like Lou Farigno on coke Yo, Africans denyin niggaz up in yellow cabs Musty like funk, wavin they arms, the Arabs Sit back, coolin like Kahlua’s on rocks On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots You bitches who fuck dreds on Sudafeds Pussy’s hurtin, they did it for a yard for the Feds Word up cousin, nigga, I seen it Like a 27-inch Zenith – believe it!

[Chorus]

[Outro] …politic ditto …get lifted in the staircases

    Heaven & Hell

   [Intro: Raekwon, Ghostface]

Yo what what, yo Exotic type shit Ninety-four, we must go to war fast With the pen and the pad God damn, shine like gold rims on Pathfinders Wu-Tang reclines, lamps, for the nine-squares kid Money clothes designer hoes and shows y’all

[Lyrics: Raekwon, Ghostface]

Yo, yo, wakin up about ten kid Jumpin in the shower, peace about to make moves and slide like greese What? I’m all about Tecs and checks and nuff respect you front I’m slammin you like the Lex So now I’m out in the ninety-five Rockin that real nigga don’t die Guess down Drawers Kani! But yo I’m makin a pit stop Go and buy a box of glocks, til he rolled up and yo Whattup Hobbes? Yo, remember that kid that we vicked He made a half of mil for real He brought about fo’ bricks Yo, so now we connect doors, meet me at the airport TELL GOLDEN ARMS MAINTAIN THE FORT Get in touch with that West coast Cali crab you stabbed And meet me at the bitch lab So word up kid, we slid like a fat four to twelve bid and shit Couldn’t even rest, I need the vic And when I slept, I dream G’s, Son I need some Keys roll self, call up Son I heard Pook and Tyriq caught a beef over some real shit A fake nigga faked and they killed his click Gimme a minute and I’m with it Yo niggaz done did it Rock your vest Keep your whip tinted So now we see him up in BoJangles Stranglin a forty ounce, with ten G’s worth of gold bangles Diamonds, what, all up in his face With his man’s mace, medallions the size of dinner plates Yo, he knew we knew him so we blew him Took thirty G’s worth of jewels of that nigga DO HIM! So now I’m lampin in my man’s Land Streets is hot like sand Jesus rollin in my right hand Yup, you know the steezo black Got to go down like that Shallah Cigars AND BALL HATS

[Outro:]

Ninety-four, takin niggaz to war, yo, yo

What do you believe in? Heaven or hell? You don’t beleive in heaven cause we’re livin in hell [x2] So it’s your life (we’re livin in hell, we’re livin in hellllllll) What a chamber, fuckin with mad strangers Yeah, you know how it runs baby, straight up yo Money clothes, designer hoes and shows y’all That’s how it goes Whatever

What do you believe in? Heaven or hell? You don’t believe in heaven cause we’re livin in hell 31st chamber y’all So it’s your life

(What do you believe in? Heaven or hell?) Niggaz ain’t even know Son, only half is sewed cash (You don’t believe in heaven cause we’re livin in hell) They haven’t yet sold their weight (What do you believe in? Heaven or hell?) Question, shit is real, youknowhatI’msayin (You don’t believe…) Niggaz think it’s all about a real live Allah A little hundred dollars and that make you a man KnowhatI’msayin? You ain’t even promised tomorrow Son, word up Niggaz don’t understand how life can be so short Come so fast With the blinkin of eye, blinkin of eye you’re gone baby Straight up, knowhatI’msayin, get turned to dust Return to the casket That ass is out Son, word up Word up, get evaporated, straight up Word up Lose all your strength nigga Crazy dedication shout out to the memory of Two Cent Jason Heartbroken, we soakin wet though Keepin it real for my peopls Yeah, yo And my physical brother DeVon, you’re still in here baby Because you’re in my arms nigga, word up I never let you go baby YouknowhatI’msayin? You my life charm, word up For real Keep shinin Real for keepin it real, shout out to major niggaz Big Kawai, Jess, Hell in the computer system The RZA, who slams fat discs for the ninety-four Word up, RZA, he’s my nigga baby Yeah, eatin dinner with the big boys now YaknowhatI’msayin? Word up, Big Booth represent the Q Knowhowedo, lamp, get that power-u, type, things on float GZA, word up, Master Killer The don of the Clan, Method Man, Inspector Deck Dirty Bastard U-God, word up baby Keep it real Son Keep packin them guns Word up