#which is something that would become significant since John would be spending more time in troll village after movie one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anotherkindofmindpod · 2 years

Note

That was a very sensitive and caring response you gave about John & Paul’s relationship. It’s just a shame that for so long, so many people and biographers have done the exact opposite. To add an alternate (or maybe it’s the same?) point of view, I have never believed the popular theory of ‘John was in love with Paul and it was unrequited - and that was the thing that hurt him more than anything’. Not because I have an opinion on Paul’s sexuality (which is totally his own business and nothing to do with any of us), but more because it suggests that John considered that his needs were fundamentally unmet with regards to Paul. And knowing how much he needed his significant other to love him as much as he loved them, he would have considered that a deep inequality in their relationship. But so much points to their relationship being one of equality and reciprocity. Whatever it was; a bromance, a romance, platonic BFF’s or something else.. both John and Paul seemed to have understood it and thrived - both creatively and personally. It’s just a hunch, but I don’t think John had the personality or patience to ‘do’ unrequited love. The thought of him pining away quietly for Paul since 1957 just seems so unJohn-like. The fact that he seemed mostly happy and content for large portions of 60’s - and much more so than in the later years - despite the pressures of fame, heavy drug intake and unresolved mental health and childhood issues, suggests that his significant relationship of the time - the one with Paul, was not a major source of unhappiness or distress to him.

But the main reason for why this argument doesn’t make sense to me is what occurred in the 70’s, with the method that Paul used for make up attempts with John. If you were Paul, and you had crushed the heart and broken the psyche of a man you cared for so dearly, (so the theory goes) and somehow muddied the waters that inadvertently wrecked your best-friendship because you couldn’t love someone in the way they loved you, you wouldn’t spend the next ten years song- flirtin’ with them.. as a way to reconcile?? That would be an asshole move. And a reckless one too - you want to upset John Lennon more?? Paul isn’t an asshole, and he certainly isn’t stupid . I take your point about flirting not necessarily indicating a desire for something sexual, but given how fragile and precarious their friendship had become, you would only write lyrics that were highly charged, intimate and inviting if you were also stating; ‘I stand by what I’m saying’. Otherwise John would have definitely put out a track called “For f*** sake, shit or get off the bleeding’ pot, McCartney”. The fact that Paul was fighting so hard to get them back to that warm, sexy, undefined place (great description of yours) that only the two of them understand, and clearly love to be in, suggests the loss of it was collateral damage; an ensuing result of the rift -whatever that was - but not the cause of it. Post - Get Back, we’ve all seen that their holding pattern is to be thisclose and flirty, and this is post-whatever the hell happened, so obviously John is not triggered by their closeness. Which doesn’t fit with him spending the next decade being hurt beyond measure over a rejection. Unless there wasn’t one in the first place.

The major issue is that this is mostly bedrocked on a quote from Yoko and purported from John, but with all due respect to the both of them, they have been known to be unreliable narrators, especially when it comes to Paul. I’m sure I’ve read a quote where Yoko said that Paul (and Mick Jagger) were in love with her! So either her romantic radar is muddled, or she just likes to yank Paul’s chain. To give Yoko some credit, defining John and Paul’s relationship as effectively one-sided is all she can do in these circumstances; she couldn’t speculate any further, or we wouldn’t be reading this book, the libel team would have seen to that. Which is possibly why it all sounds so coy and weirdly nondescript… and why we are all trying to figure it out decades later.

Sorry this is so long, I just get annoyed whenever I see that Phillip Norman quote being used as a default explanation for their relationship, because in it, I see a subtle implication of Paul being, yet again, held accountable for John’s greatest pain, whilst somehow having his significance in John’s life and love minimised. And this continuously gets trotted out when their relationship is described as unhealthy, immature, dysfunctional etc etc. There are relationships in John’s life that might bear closer critical scrutiny in years to come, but this one deserves more people fighting its corner. So thank you for doing so.

Hello listener!

Thanks for your great reply to this post. Your response is very well thought-out and well-argued with lots of great points to consider! TBH, there’s not much I flatly disagree with. But just to pushback/engage on a few points… (Unsurprisingly, this got very long, too!)

I agree that Yoko’s quote is vague. In fact she never said (or even implied, really) that Paul rejected John. She indicated that John wanted something (an “affair”) that John believed Paul didn’t want (he “had been deterred”). She doesn’t say how John came to this conclusion or what deterred him. Was it based on John’s observations? His familiarity with Paul’s views? An aborted attempt to start something? Who knows! She does say there was “something going on there, from (John’s) point of view, not from Paul’s” which actually makes it sound more like John believed he and Paul were in a pre-existing relationship rather than that John wanted to start one. Basically, she said the quiet thing aloud and thereby opened the door on the subject, but didn’t give any real details - although she does frame the feelings/desires as exclusively on John’s side. Yes, it could be out of fear/respect for Paul, but if so, that’s a pretty WILD choice! To call your husband out like that?!? (Then again Yoko has said some wild things in her day!) She’s also on record saying she thought John was gay when they first started dating (and she’s repeated versions of this over the years), that Paul and John had “something very strong,” that Paul would be a “great threat” if he was a woman, and that Paul hurt John more than anyone else ever. Maybe her 2005 quote to Norman was an opportunity for Paul to clarify (i.e. “No, it wasn’t one-sided on John's part”) or maybe Yoko was just speaking freely about what she really thought. In any case, I agree that the Paul-rejected-John (kindly or otherwise; explicitly or implicitly) theory is extrapolation based on the VERY SCANT info we have.

I do have to push back on the idea that Yoko’s 2005 quote is the only source for this premise, though. John himself in 1972 talked about how Lennon/McCartney could’ve been a complete relationship with a physical component (and/or was an incomplete relationship without a physical component). So to me it sounds like this element (specifically being held and holding hands) was lacking in the L/M relationship and it supports the idea that John deliberately chose to seek it elsewhere (i.e. Yoko). He doesn’t say that his original desire was a complete relationship with Paul but again, we’re extrapolating that from what he said, based on tons of other circumstantial evidence/accounts. (x)

From my POV, being held and holding hands is next-level intimacy, beyond eye contact (however intense it may be) or even mutual masturbation (which is basically confirmed as something John and Paul engaged in). So yeah, maybe the stumbling block was never sex in the first place; maybe it was intimacy and/or the ability to express feelings. Maybe, as Paul has explained dozens of times, he was simply unable to express/show love to another man (John).

If this is the case though, and John prioritized sex below other forms of intimacy, it sounds more like he was in love with Paul, rather than just horny for him.

The fact that Paul was fighting so hard to get them back to that warm, sexy, undefined place (great description of yours) that only the two of them understand, and clearly love to be in, suggests the loss of it was collateral damage; an ensuing result of the rift -whatever that was - but not the cause of it.

This is a good argument and a great point! I think the Undefined Warm Sexy Place is their comfort/security zone and I think Paul always wants to return to it, regardless of what the “big bang” of their breakup was. I don’t think Paul ever wanted to LEAVE that cocoon in the first place, because Paul wasn’t the one to upset the applecart in 1968, that was John. And if John didn’t blow that cocoon up because he was unsatisfied, then I honestly have no idea why he would.

I guess you could argue that maybe John was the one who wanted to have his cake (Paul) and eat it too (Yoko), and that Paul was the one who found that arrangement unacceptable. I actually do think this is how Paul feels about it (we see bursts of real anger from Paul in Get Back, no matter how hard he’s trying to be the world’s most supportive partner/BFF) . But I also get strong “well what the fuck do you EXPECT PAUL!?” vibes from John. Because otherwise I’m totally perplexed why John would be so incredibly hurtful and mean to continuously and needlessly bring Yoko into the studio for 18 months. John is so sensitive, both in general and especially to Paul, that there’s no way he doesn’t see that Paul feels displaced- and yet he is deliberately choosing, day after day, to disrespect Paul and rub salt in that wound. (Not to mention the vengeful way John repeatedly described Yoko as Paul’s replacement post-breakup) Either John is a sick, selfish piece of shit who enjoys hurting Paul OR it means John feels vulnerable in Paul’s presence (is there a reason he can’t be alone with Paul after May 1968?) and/or he needs to see Paul react emotionally for his own personal validation.

Otherwise John would have definitely put out a track called “For f*** sake, shit or get off the bleeding’ pot, McCartney”

I mean, John didn’t write that in the 70s but he did write I Want You So Bad it’s Driving Me Mad months before he blurted out that he wanted a divorce.

There is also Paul’s explanation that John could no longer have Paul in his life if he was going to commit fully to Yoko. (x)

There is also Jealous Guy (“I was feeling insecure/ you might not love me anymore”).

Based on all of this, I still get the sense that John was not getting everything he needed/wanted from Paul and that John is wounded about something and reacting to something. Yoko’s quote to Norman about the potential affair was actually her explanation for what caused John to write HDYS! So at least from Yoko’s POV, John was harboring anger (“wounded rage”) over this thwarted affair, regardless of whether or not Paul was even given the opportunity to decline it in the first place.

As we’ve already discussed, that could mean many different things! If John never propositioned Paul (and there’s plenty of reasons to believe he didn’t), Paul wouldn’t necessarily know it was something John wanted (even if Paul intuited it). If John then suddenly falls madly in love with Yoko, Paul would consider a potential affair with John a dead issue. Why would Paul stop flirting with him then, when that is their happy place, the only time they both feel secure that they love each other?

If you were Paul, and you had crushed the heart and broken the psyche of a man you cared for so dearly, (so the theory goes) and somehow muddied the waters that inadvertently wrecked your best-friendship because you couldn’t love someone in the way they loved you, you wouldn’t spend the next ten years song- flirtin’ with them.. as a way to reconcile?? That would be an asshole move.

Mmm, I don’t necessarily agree with this. I definitely take your point that it makes no sense to say “I’m not into you LIKE THAT!” and then continue to flirt with someone. And that this does make a direct confrontation-rejection scenario much less likely.

However, as stated above, I do think the Undefined Warm Sexy Place is their comfort zone, and maybe it’s the only way Paul knows how to convey his love to John. And if it's the only thing he has given John in the past they he knows John understands, it’s reasonable that Paul's going to keep giving it to him.

Post - Get Back, we’ve all seen that their holding pattern is to be thisclose and flirty, and this is post-whatever the hell happened, so obviously John is not triggered by their closeness.

A great observation about their “holding pattern” - I think it’s what they immediately fell back into in the 70s once things got civil again, and is probably their baseline.

I don’t know if I completely agree with John not being triggered, though. John seems to be “once bitten, twice shy” in the 70s. There are times when it looks like he’s chomping at the bit (1974), but we all know he punked out of going to New Orleans at the last minute even though it was something he clearly wanted (May is adamant about that). So why would John deny himself something he really wanted? Obviously I’m speculating, but it’s easy to assume he was scared of getting hurt again.

It’s also clear that he can go to a really dark place about Paul (1976-79). That paranoid John seems to think Paul is a liar and a fake who doesn’t really love him. Obviously it’s not mandatory that this paranoia is sexually based; there’s always the “Paul wasn’t supportive of John and Yoko” chestnut, but I think over the years Paul has sincerely tried to account for that, both in public and with the whole Acting as Yoko’s Envoy in ‘74 thing, etc. Not to mention, the dark place about Paul isn’t “That guy’s a dick!” it’s “friendship is a romantic illusion,” which is a whole ‘nother level of betrayal. To me it always feels imbued with shame and regret. In that phrase, Paul is the Bad Guy but John is stupid for lying to himself in the first place. (That’s my read, anyway)

You hit upon another interesting and curious aspect of their relationship, too. One of their patterns over the years is that John and Paul tend to do well when they are together and become strained when they are apart. These "being together" periods go as far back as Caversham and Paris and continue into ‘66 on tour, Cavendish in ‘67, Greece, etc.

I assume this is because when they are apart they are both more insecure about their relationship and inclined to overthink, fear, and worry about how the other feels. Maybe this goes back to what we discussed before- the UWSP is where they feel secure that they love each other because they can look into each other's eyes. Without that physical closeness, they get more suspicious and angry (and jealous). They seem to be aware of this dynamic, too, and it would make New Orleans in ‘75 precisely what they need to put them back on stable ground. They revisit it again in 1980, with John’s proposal to take a trip somewhere far, far away.

The thought of him pining away quietly for Paul since 1957 just seems so unJohn-like.

Well, I definitely don’t think he was quietly pining away since 1957! I think for most of their relationship John and Paul considered themselves on the same page; I think the rift only occurred in late 1967/68. All I feel completely confident about is that John and Paul a) mutually loved each other b) hit a breaking point in 1968 and c) spent the rest of their lives trying to figure out a way to mend the rift and/or start over I’m completely conscious and accepting of the fact that there is plenty we/I don’t know about John & Paul’s relationship, and I’m not overly invested in being “right” about everything; there is obviously a lot of guesswork that goes into studying this (which we are always very upfront about). For the purposes of our podcast, which is broadcast to a wide, mainstream audience, we tend to tread lightly on sexual issues and focus on a few bottom-line points. Being the ONLY people who are willing to openly discuss the romantic aspects of Lennon/McCartney “on air” makes us targets (for ridicule, hate-mail, and the possibility of being just plain wrong in some of our guesswork), but it has to be done and we try to be sensitive and thoughtful about it. My biggest goal has always been to push this conversation out in the open and normalize it instead of it always being the thing that is dismissed or mocked or referred to obliquely. If people pushback on the details it means they are thinking about this subject seriously (which they SHOULD) and doing real critical thinking on it! We are doing the best we can with what we have, but frankly, we need more concrete information to get this right. What I really want is for someone to ask Paul McCartney about it. Of course they might get immediately shut down, but I genuinely think there is a golden opportunity just waiting for the right interviewer/biographer. If someone can talk to Paul about his relationship with John in a respectful way, push him just enough, acknowledge how much Paul meant to John, ask the right questions and treat them like a legitimate couple, I feel like it’s very possible for Paul to shed light on what happened. But whoever it is needs to gain Paul’s trust and reassure him that they will treat this information delicately and disseminate it carefully, in a way that the public can handle. Part of me thinks the love story of John and Paul is low-hanging fruit, something the public would eat up, and could be re-written with a single, effective interview, book or movie. But it will be hard because Paul is difficult to access, he is justifiably distrustful of writers (check out our latest episode for a taste of their OTT toxicity) and he has nothing to gain by sharing private details of his relationship with John- unless he trusts that their relationship will be understood and presented with empathy and love -which he objectively has almost ZERO reason to believe. Many Gen X/Millenial Beatles people are now able to discuss John and Paul as “a love story” or “soulmates,” but we need to acknowledge how incredibly far behind the curve “traditional” Beatles orthodoxy still is. Biphobia is ABSOLUTELY RAMPANT, the Lennon Estate is actively invested in downplaying John’s relationship with Paul (their job is to promote John’s solo career, Yoko’s career, and the John & Yoko brand/love story) and conventional wisdom states that Paul loved John but John only loved Yoko (although Get Back appears to be challenging that for many viewers!). People have believed this stuff for 60 years, and there are writers doubling-down on it as we speak. Those are some HUGE obstacles to overcome before we can get to a nuanced discussion about the details above. Sorry this got so long, I really enjoyed your ask! Thanks for writing. Please feel free to DM (or email) if you want to discuss further. -Phoebe

#AKOM #asked and answered

77 notes · View notes

robertreich · 3 years

Text

Trickle-Down Economics Doesn’t Work but Build-Up Does -- Is Biden Listening?

How should the huge financial costs of the pandemic be paid for, as well as the other deferred needs of society after this annus horribilis?

Politicians rarely want to raise taxes on the rich. Joe Biden promised to do so but a closely divided Congress is already balking.

That’s because they’ve bought into one of the most dangerous of all economic ideas: that economic growth requires the rich to become even richer. Rubbish.

Economist John Kenneth Galbraith once dubbed it the “horse and sparrow” theory: “If you feed the horse enough oats, some will pass through to the road for the sparrows.”

We know it as trickle-down economics.

In a new study, David Hope of the London School of Economics and Julian Limberg of King’s College London lay waste to the theory. They reviewed data over the last half-century in advanced economies and found that tax cuts for the rich widened inequality without having any significant effect on jobs or growth. Nothing trickled down.

Meanwhile, the rich have become far richer. Since the start of the pandemic, just 651 American billionaires have gained $1 trillion of wealth. With this windfall they could send a $3,000 check to every person in America and still be as rich as they were before the pandemic. Don’t hold your breath.

Stock markets have been hitting record highs. More initial public stock offerings have been launched this year than in over two decades. A wave of hi-tech IPOs has delivered gushers of money to Silicon Valley investors, founders and employees.

Oh, and tax rates are historically low.

Yet at the same time, more than 20 million Americans are jobless, 8 million have fallen into poverty, 19 million are at risk of eviction and 26 million are going hungry. Mainstream economists are already talking about a “K-shaped” recovery – the better-off reaping most gains while the bottom half continue to slide.

You don’t need a doctorate in ethical philosophy to think that now might be a good time to tax and redistribute some of the top’s riches to the hard-hit below. The UK is already considering an emergency tax on wealth.

Biden has rejected a wealth tax, but maybe he should be even more ambitious and seek to change economic thinking altogether.

The practical alternative to trickle-down economics might be called build-up economics. Not only should the rich pay for today’s devastating crisis but they should also invest in the public’s long-term well-being. The rich themselves would benefit from doing so, as would everyone else.

At one time, America’s major political parties were on the way to embodying these two theories. Speaking to the Democratic National Convention in 1896, populist William Jennings Bryan noted: “There are two ideas of government. There are those who believe that, if you will only legislate to make the well-to-do prosperous, their prosperity will leak through on those below. The Democratic idea, however, has been that if you legislate to make the masses prosperous, their prosperity will find its way up through every class which rests upon them.”

Build-up economics reached its zenith in the decades after the second world war, when the richest Americans paid a marginal income tax rate of between 70% and 90%. That revenue helped fund massive investment in infrastructure, education, health and basic research – creating the largest and most productive middle class the world had ever seen.

But starting in the 1980s, America retreated from public investment. The result is crumbling infrastructure, inadequate schools, wildly dysfunctional healthcare and public health systems and a shrinking core of basic research. Productivity has plummeted.

Yet we know public investment pays off. Studies show an average return on infrastructure investment of $1.92 for every public dollar invested, and a return on early childhood education of between 10% and 16% – with 80% of the benefits going to the general public.

The COVID vaccine reveals the importance of investments in public health, and the pandemic shows how everyone’s health affects everyone else’s. Yet 37 million Americans still have no health insurance. A study in the Lancet estimates Medicare for All would prevent 68,000 unnecessary deaths each year, while saving money.

If we don’t launch something as bold as a Green New Deal, we’ll spend trillions coping with ever more damaging hurricanes, wildfires, floods and rising sea levels.

The returns from these and other public investments are huge. The costs of not making them are astronomical.

Trickle-down economics is a cruel hoax. The benefits of build-up economics are real. At this juncture, between a global pandemic and the promise of a post-pandemic world, and between the administrations of Trump and Biden, we would be well-served by changing the economic paradigm from trickle down to build up.

#trickle-down economics #Trickle Down Economics #bidenomics

193 notes · View notes

sterekorgtfo · 3 years

Text

Alternate Constangreen 6x8 Ending

Gary was waiting in the hallway of the Waverider. His attempts to pretend he didn’t know what the Fountain of Imperium and persuade John against a dangerous endeavor was all for naught. John was currently gathering his things and would be on his way soon. He had offered to go, since he was his magical apprentice and all, but John insisted he stay behind and help Astra learn her magic if she needed it.

Zari came around the corner and was approaching John’s room as well. He felt a little awkward now. No doubt they were going to have a couple-y moment. As much as John meant to him, he knew Zari meant more. That hurt a little, but it was out of his control.

“Hey, Zari,” Gary said nervously.

She gave him a friendly smile in acknowledgement as she approached. “Is John still planning on leaving?” she asked .

Gary nodded. “He’s just packing now. I didn’t want to be overbearing.”

Zari gave an entertained hum and the softest chuckle, but it wasn’t at him, he could tell. It felt warm and genuine. “You still love him, don’t you?”

“I-” Gary stuttered bashfully as he turned away. This was the last conversation he wanted to have with Zari. Gary didn’t want to be the jealous type, but he couldn’t help that he was, but only just a little.

Zari had been nothing but friendly and kind to him, and she definitely didn’t deserve any negativity or pettiness from his end. Sure, it hurt him a lot to see them kiss and see her make John smile. He wished he could make John smile like that, but it was a selfish wish. Seeing John smile from Zari was better than not seeing John smile at all, which he didn’t do often.

“It’s complicated,” Gary said. “But, yeah, I do to an extent, and I think I always will, in some way. There’s nothing you need to worry about though. I’m not going to get in the way of anything.”

Instead of laughing at him or pitying him, she just gave him a warm smile. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you two. I know it must be hard, but you’re his best friend, and he’s better because you’re by his side.”

Gary let out a noise of disbelief and looked down. “I’m not his best friend. He spends half his time yelling at me for something or telling me to leave him alone-”

Before he could continue, Zari had placed her hand on his arm and he had broke his gaze off the floor to look at her. “I know he’s got his cold exterior thing, and I am sorry you’ve gotten heat off his little temper tantrums, but you are his best friend. He’s just always been one to push because he does that to people, you know that. Deep down, he’s become a better person because of you.”

“Me?” Gary said with a laugh. “How?”

“I know the Legends didn’t always treat you well at first, but you never gave up on them. No matter what, you were still the happy, optimistic guy who always sees the best in everyone. You make this team better, Gary, and you’ve made John better, too,” Zari explained.

Gary gave her a soft smile. “Thank you, Zari. That means a lot.”

Zari gestured for him to step closer and she pulled him in for a tight hug, which he happily reciprocated. She was a good girl. He saw why John liked her. They pulled apart fondly right before the automated metal doors adjacent to them opened. They turned to see John stepping out with a pleasant grin. “I wouldn’t be interrupting any co-conspiring am I?”

“Maybe we were,” Zari teased with a wink, earning a playful grin from John. Gary had to admit the two of them had a similar charismatic wit that was fun to see.

“I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed and to uh, say goodbye I guess,” Gary said.

John smiled softly, and it was a smile that made him weak in the knees. There was no doubt he’d be under John Constantine's spell forever. He would take whatever smiles he could get.

“Gary Green, always looking out for me,” he said fondly. “You have nothing to worry about, mate. John Constantine doesn’t die easily. I’ve succeeded against worse odds before. I’ll be right back in no time with the magic hands you all know any love.” He looked over at Zari, and Zari gave him a flirty look, and Gary immediately put together the innuendo. He looked down and blushed and tried not to feel like a third wheel.

“Well, take care, John. Safe travels,” he said sheepishly.

John gave him a tender smile and opened up his arms. John wasn’t a hugger, but Gary was. Gary felt happy that now John was initiating them now. He stepped closer into John’s welcoming arms and embraced his crush, patting him on the back. He wasn’t sure how long until he’d see John again. He truly hoped it wouldn’t be long.

Gary moved to let go of John so that he wouldn’t surpass the socially acceptable length of a hug and make things awkward, but was surprised when John didn’t let go and held him in place.

“Gary,” John said fondly. His voice was rich like honey, and it was one of the many things that Gary couldn’t resist about him. His heart rate quickened, unsure of what was going on. “This will be easier for me to say if I’m not looking at you. You know how I can be with...feelings.”

Gary’s breath hitched a little as John mentioned feelings as he had his arms around him. His mind was somehow running a million miles a minute, thinking of possibility of what was happening, while also being completely frozen- completely unsure of what was going on.

“I want you to know how much I appreciate you,” John said. “Through thick and thin, no matter how poorly I’ve treated you, you’ve never given up on me. I know I was angry about you not telling me about this, but I know you were wanting to protect me. I have plenty of enemies who’d want me in the ground, but not a lot of loved ones who would go out of their way to keep me safe, so....thank you, Gary Green. You’re the finest mate I could ask for.”

Gary was completely frozen at the confession. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. He never assumed he had a significant status in John’s eyes, and these words had completely floored him.

“Don’t cry on my trench coat or you’re buying me a new one!” John quickly playfully threatened.

“Right, right,” Gary quickly said as he let out a small chuckle as he took a step back. He knew John was wanting to change the tone back to a non-emotional setting, and Gary would allow it. They probably wouldn’t talk about this again, but they didn’t need to.

“I’ll leave you two alone now,” Gary said courteously. “Goodbye, John.”

Gary headed down all the way to the end of the hallway before he turned back to look at the two of them. Sure enough, they were exchanging a kiss. Instead of feeling a pang in his chest, Gary smiled. John would fight to come back to her, and for that, he was thankful to her. Gary turned the corner and walked away, no longer worried John would lose his way.

#constangreen #john constantine #gary green #constantine #zari tarazi #dc's legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow #lot

30 notes · View notes

katehuntington · 3 years

Text

Title: Ride With Me (part 25) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 25: Y/N and Dean struggle with the aftermath of their split. Working together proves to be difficult, but other relationships within the ranch family took a hit as well. When the cowboy thinks the day can’t get much worse, complications arise, forcing him to make yet another difficult decision. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: (opening scene) The Eye - Brandi Carlile. (Ride with Meadow scene) Home - Hans Zimmer. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Beta’d by my mom (yes, you read that right. My mom reads my stuff and is on Tumblr). Thank you, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @kittenofdoomage, @manawhaat, @waywardbeanie, @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me with this story. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

With frustrated motions, Y/N stuffs her clothes into a bag, not even bothered to sort the items out. Her cheeks are tear-stained once again and she wipes at them angrily. Stop crying, it won’t get you anywhere, she scolds herself, done with feeling this emotional. After all, today is Monday, just another day at the ranch, and they have a lot of work to do. Garth and Ellen did the necessary stable work, but the horses which are usually trained by Jo, Dean, and herself had three days off while their riders were in Flagstaff.

Dean. Just the name reverberating in her head forces her to pause her actions. She dips her chin, closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Why? That’s the question she keeps asking herself. Why did he break up with her? Why did he pretend to care, only to hurt her the way he did? Why has he become so bitter, so selfish, so unlike the man she thought he was?

The questions remain unanswered, and she doesn’t expect they will give her any consolation either. That was the whole issue to begin with, wasn’t it? He can’t be honest. Apparently, he doesn’t think she’s capable of bearing the load he is meant to share with his partner. Apparently, she’s not good enough. Just like she didn’t meet her first boyfriend’s standards, who got tired of her spending more time with her horses than with him. Her second relationship ended in a fiasco as well, this time it was his jealousy of her success that caused the split. Yesterday proved that the third time clearly isn’t a charm. But neither of her previous significant others ever caused a cataclysm as the one Dean has left behind. Her heart is a wasteland now.

“Are you leaving?” She’s pulled away from her thoughts by Jo’s voice, her tone matching the horrified expression on her face. She stands in the doorway, looking down at the open suitcase on the floor and the unzipped bag. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes what the scene must look like. “No. I’m just sorting out my washing,” she says quickly. “Oh…” the blonde cowgirl sighs, relieved. “For a second there I thought--” “I won’t let your scumbag cousin chase me away, Jo,” her friend assures her.

Truth be told, though, she has been thinking about it. Last night she had typed down her information on a booking website, ready to confirm her flight back to Freeport, but as her finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button, she closed the tab and slammed her laptop closed. The intern came here on a mission. She is going to prove to her parents and to herself that she has what it takes to run her own ranch and that she deserves that business loan. She is not going to abort just because her heart is broken, come hell or high water.

“Well, good. I would have roped you like a cow and tied you to the saddle anyway,” Jo scoffs, leaning against the doorframe.

The cowgirl chuckles as she collects the last of her dirty laundry, zips up the bag, and puts it on the bed. The sight of the not-particularly comfortable mattress has her wishing she could crawl back under the covers and get some much-needed sleep. That’s not an option, however, and so she takes her hat from the corner bedpost and places it on her head. Before she goes out, she quickly checks her makeup in the mirror, but thankfully her tears haven’t smudged her waterproof eyeliner and mascara, and her foundation is still covering the bags under her eyes. It’s been a while since she hid behind the beauty-products, but the confidence Dean gave her has disappeared the second he ended their relationship, so she put her mask back on. There is no way she will give her ex-boyfriend the satisfaction of witnessing just how broken she is.

Y/N inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, lifting her chin as she stares at her reflection. The woman who looks back at her is fierce and resilient; the complete opposite of the little girl that’s hiding inside. Of course, she doesn’t want to face the day nor the man who hurt her, but she is left with no choice. There is so much more at stake here; her future, her career. This is business, and she will treat it as such. Y/N glances at Jo, giving her a nod, and her friend smiles faintly doing the same.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Dean pours himself his third cup of coffee. Saying that he had a rough night, is putting it mildly. The first digit of his alarm clock had already changed into a ‘2’ when he finally drifted off, only to jolt awake an hour and a half later, his bedsheets clinging to his sweat-covered skin. For the first time in years, a nightmare has caused havoc, images of his worst memories coming through cracks in the walls he built around all that childhood trauma. After freshening up, he laid in bed again while last night’s events alternated with those same disturbing scenes he saw in his dreams, the sad motion picture of sorrow and heartbreak projected on the ceiling. He gave up on sleeping around four-thirty in the morning, got dressed, and sat out on the porch until the sun came up. But no matter how hard he focused on the sounds of the night that tried to soothe him, he couldn't get her out of his mind. The pain laced in her desperate voice, the tears that fell because of him. But after those hurtful images, he also remembers that bright smile, her giggles, the sparkle in her eyes when she has achieved something. Her tenderness, her touch… It hasn’t even been twelve hours and he’s already craving Y/N, fighting an addiction for a drug he can never have again. The girl who is no longer his Yankee.

A door squeaks and Dean glances aside, immediately redirecting his gaze back to the coffee mug on the small kitchen counter when Y/N comes into view, followed suit by Jo. Instantly, the tension in the living room shoots through the roof, the crooked, little bunkhouse barely able to maintain the strain. He doesn’t say anything, but thankfully Garth and Benny do exchange a ‘good morning’ with the girls, the silence interrupted by the casual exchange.

He spots her perfectly applied makeup, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that doesn’t allow a single strand to escape the rubber band. Her shirt is neatly tucked into her jeans, ironed and spotless, just like the day when she arrived at the ranch. Even though she looks breathtaking, the vision saddens him; she’s back to being the woman who needs to have everything under control. He gets it, though, because when she took his advice to loosen up, she let her guard down. If she had kept both hands on the reins, Y/N would have never allowed him to get so close and comfortable. Dean only made things worse for her, and now she was left to pick up the pieces of all that he broke.

Without saying a word, he grabs his coffee and pushes the door handle down to make his exit, not wanting to make her life more difficult than he already has.

Ultimately, this Monday was bound to get worse with every passing minute. Dean decided to get an early start before breakfast and got on the tractor, but when the ranch hand tried to back up in order to drag the arena, he couldn't get the old John Deere into reverse. A glance underneath soon determined why and he exclaimed a loud ‘fuck!’ when he detected the puddle of gearbox-oil on the dusty ground. Turning the fresh horses out only added to his agitation, especially when the youngsters stirred up the palomino stallion Led while the wrangler was hand-walking him. The Quarter is still recovering from the nasty tendon injury he suffered on the job, and isn’t supposed to be bouncing off the concrete like a rubber ball on a leash, but tell that to an energetic horse who has barely been out of his box for the past month. Garth readied a horse for his boss, which he managed to ride before breakfast, but Dean was unfocused and gave up after thirty minutes.

Now, they were all quietly eating their breakfast, the delicious meal giving them some consolation. Ellen observes the awfully silent crew, exchanging a look with her daughter, who with a slow shake of her head tells her mother to not bring it up, and so she doesn’t. The head wrangler is the first to get up from his seat, rinse his plate in the sink, and return to the stables. The others follow his example, the barn soon buzzing with activity.

Y/N works like a dog, mucking out the stable in record time without pausing. It’s a good distraction for her reeling mind, the hard labor ridding her of the frustration that boils her blood whenever she thinks of the man who ruined her faith in true love. Garth, sensing that the intern was fine on her own, took the tough job of raking the arena by hand, since machinery has let them down. Meanwhile, Jo and Dean train the animals as per usual, but there’s no bantering between them during the cool down. In fact, the wrangler’s cousin has decided to ignore him altogether.

Getting more irritated with every second passing, the horseman dismounts the six-year-old gelding named Santana, deciding that a light workout is enough for today. The wrangler is always careful to not let his emotions bleed into his work, but he’s finding it difficult to keep himself in check. Jo has already parked her horse next to the bay Quarter and has tacked down the buckskin without granting Dean a look. He sighs; Jo is not easily going to forgive him for hurting her friend, but he still tries to break the stifling silence.

“Can you pass me the water?” he asks, nodding at the yellow garden hose that’s rolled up by the faucet. Without even granting him a look, the ranch owner’s daughter throws the showerhead in his direction, the nozzle clattering on the tiles in front of Dean’s feet. He sighs, annoyed. “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he scoffs. “I get that you’re mad, but you can at least t--” “I have nothing to say to you,” she snaps.

It’s not the first time Jo is angry with him, because the two have a habit of getting on each other’s nerves. This time it’s different, though, and the bitterness in her tone sends a clear message that he has burned his bridges. Gritting his teeth, he lets the comment slide, deciding that it’s useless to fire back a counter. She has a solid point after all; he doesn’t deserve her sympathy in the slightest. Figuring that these will be the only words they exchange for at least a couple of days, the cowboy begins to hose down Santana, when Jo turns on her heels with her horse’s lead rope in one hand and her fist firmly planted on her waist. “You know what? I do have something to say. You just don’t get to speak in return,” she kicks off, about to unleash her wrath. Dean lifts his gaze from the dirt and sweat that he’s washing out of his horse’s coat, for the first time looking into his cousin’s fiery eyes. The petit cowgirl, who is easily nine inches shorter than the man before her, is intimidating nonetheless. He takes a breath, bracing himself for impact. Here it comes.

“You’re a cold-hearted, spineless, self-absorbed dick, know that? For once in your life, you’ve got something good goin’, someone who was willing to look past your gigantic ego and your daddy issues, yet the first thing you do when life gets tough, is drop her like a hot potato. Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused the poor girl? Because I do! She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but she cried for hours, hours, and that’s on you! Guess who had to comfort her, huh?” Jo goes off. “I am so far past mad; I am furious! I really thought you had finally found a reason to change into something better than the abbreviated piece of nothing that you are now, but it seems like Y/N wasn’t the only one who was naive.” “You done?” the wrangler says coldly when she pauses to catch her breath. “Go hump a cactus, Dean,” she sneers.

With those words, Jo strides away, the large animal next to her obediently following her, well aware that now is not the time to be stubborn. The man who’s left with the poignant insults still echoing inside his head, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at his feet for a second before he sniffs and focuses on the task at hand again. He might have pretended that her message left him unbothered, but the opposite is true. Jo could as well slap him across the face; it would hurt less.

Defeated, the wrangler takes Santana to his box and removes the halter from the large animal’s head. The sweet horse seeks contact, nudging her nose against Dean’s shoulder. He rubs the Quarter’s withers before he exits the stable, appreciating the only kindness that he’s received so far this morning.

“Dean?” He tenses, not expecting his name to fall off the lips of the woman who he parted from only yesterday. When the cowboy meets her gaze, the look Y/N gives him is as cold as the tone of her voice. “I need a word,” she says, although it sounds more like a demand. “S - sure,” he stutters, glancing down briefly before he looks back up again, suddenly nervous. He’s not sure if he can handle being scolded by his ex-girlfriend as well. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together anymore,” she states formally. “I’d like a new supervisor.”

Dean cocks his head back slightly, unbalanced by the appeal. He rubs his temple, averting his eyes but then nods, acknowledging that she’s probably right, even though the request is a painful one. “Yeah, uh - sure. I’ll ask Garth,” he stammers, estimating that he would be the obvious choice since she’s so close with Jo. He wouldn’t want their friendship to be tainted by the difference in rank. “Okay,” the intern responds, her expression stark and strained, before she walks past him.

Motionless, the head wrangler remains on his spot, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second. Somehow, he didn’t expect their first exchange to be strictly business. Her stance is so different from what he’s grown used to. Even on the night they met when she gave him a hard time, the tension between them didn’t feel as heavy as it does now. He realized when he called it quits that she would struggle with his decision, but Jo’s confirmation that she spent most of last night crying over their separation has him desperate to ease the pain.

“Y/N…” he says softly while turning before she’s too far gone to pick up on his voice. “I have work to do,” she cuts off, shooting him a short glare over her shoulder.

Dean swallows thickly while watching her leave, fast and determined strides taking her as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he really did ruin his chances of even maintaining any sort of a friendship, didn’t he? He’s not sure what else he expected after the way they parted, but despite the loathing and vexed look she just shot him that feels like a bullet to the heart, he’s glad. Let her be angry, let her hate him. It will be easier for her to deal with those emotions, than just the overwhelming sense of sadness. He knows, because he hasn’t felt this devastated, empty, and incomplete since his family fell apart; he’s talking from experience. Wishing the day was over already, the cowboy adjusts his hat and gets back to work, hoping that riding will offer him the therapy he so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, the day doesn’t pass by nearly as fast as Dean would like to. After riding five horses, he, Benny, and Garth use their lunch break to look at the beat-up tractor that once again has let them down. The head wrangler doesn’t mind skipping his midday meal; he would rather avoid sitting across from Y/N in a room overflowing with awkwardness, plus, he’s not hungry anyway.

The machine from 1979 was bound to die on the crew sooner than later, but after the farrier slash mechanic discovers metal particles in the gearbox fluid, it becomes clear that a simple oil change isn’t going to cut it this time. “Yep, she’s toast,” Benny sighs, wiping his dirty hands with a cloth. “Just what we need,” his friend grunts. He’s not looking forward to his uncle’s response to the setback. “I’ll tell Bobby.” “I can if you want me to,” the stable boy - who is also responsible for the machinery - offers. Dean purses his lips slightly, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans while he stares at the old John Deere absently. “Nah, I’ll do it. I got a question for you, though. Do you mind supervising Y/N from now on?” Garth shakes his head, taking in his boss, somewhat confused. “No, not at all.” “Good,” the wrangler replies quickly, thankful that the slender employee takes on the task without question. The clueless young man didn’t pick up on the relationship between Dean and the intern to begin with, and he would rather keep him in the dark, especially now that it has ended. He knocks on the rusty hood of the tractor before he heads off. “I’ll see y’all in a bit. Can you start rolling out the hay to the pastures with the wheelbarrows? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer without this old thing.”

The shade inside the stables is welcoming, and not just because it offers cooler temperatures. Dean’s eyes are still painfully sore from the lack of sleep and he rubs at them again, trying to stop them from burning. Shit, and it’s only Monday, he sighs to himself. The three-day event over the weekend means no time off for the employees who attended. The last time he didn’t have to show up at seven in the morning or earlier was late September, which means that he has been working twelve-hour plus shifts for fourteen days straight now. Work never stops on a ranch. The horses depend on him; they will always need food, a clean stable and exercise, no matter how tired, lovesick, or miserable he is.

The cafeteria is already empty. His aunt is probably at the guesthouses to change the sheets and towels, giving the accommodations a quick once-over. However, he finds a post-it on the long table with his name on it; ‘Don’t forget to eat. Bacon sandwiches are in the fridge - Ellen’. As the cowboy smiles for the first time today, he wonders if Bobby has told his wife anything about John’s unexpected visit in Flagstaff, hoping that he hasn’t. Knowing his aunt, she’s going to sit him down for some sweet tea and a talk, even though previous attempts of having a conversation as such proved to be unsuccessful. He appreciates her concern, though, the idea of his surrogate mom caring about him offering Dean some solace.

The wrangler walks through the high barn doors on the other side, the sun doing its very best to cheer him up, but the rays don’t reach his soul. He makes his way to the Singer’s home, reckoning he will find Bobby there. As per usual, Dean takes off his hat and hangs it on the coat hanger, kicking off his boots before he proceeds to the office in the back of the house. After knocking, he pushes the door ajar, finding his uncle behind his desk. The place is still a mess, but the occupant’s features aren’t draped in shadows like the last time he was here. The blinders are open, the window a passe-partout of the Joshua tree, together with the paddocks and pastures surrounding it.

The rancher looks up when his nephew enters. “Hey, son. How’s the tractor comin’?” “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s fried. The oil is swimming with debris,” Dean tells, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “Metal?” Bobby questions. When the young man across from him nods, he curses. “Balls!”

Dean presses his lips into a firm line, keeping still in the worn chair to prevent it from squeaking. His uncle seemed to be in a good mood after the successful show, but he can tell that this setback has put a strain on the old man’s frame of mind.

“You’re gonna call the service station?” the head wrangler wonders. “No, that’s gonna cost us. We finally managed to make some money, I ain’t planning on spending it on that damned thing.” The rancher adjusts his ball cap before leaning back in his chair. “You boys can give it a go first, open up that gearbox, see what’s broken. I’ll order parts once you figure out what’s wrong with that piece of shit.”

Scribbling something down on a piece of paper, Bobby sighs, but then returns his focus to Dean. “There’s somethin’ else I need to discuss with you.” His right-hand raises his eyebrows slightly, his interest peaked. “What’s that?” “It’s about Cain,” his uncle murmurs. “Apparently MacLeod didn’t tell the entire story.” Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Should I be surprised? I’m not sure what kinda vibes you picked up from that shady dude, but I sure as hell don’t trust him for the life of me.” “I don’t either. That’s why I think we should reconsider that deal.” Bobby rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, forking his fingers together in his lap. He expected some resistance from Dean, but not such a strong reaction as his nephew fires back.

“What?! Are you serious?” he counters, perplexed. “You’re just gonna wipe it off the table?” “Not ‘just’, but we need to consider our options,” his boss returns. “How many options do we have exactly? Because the way I see it, this arrangement is a pretty damn good one. It’s good money, a steady income with the prospect of a huge bonus, not to mention what doors it might open for the future. This horse might be the break we need,” Dean advocates, remembering Y/N’s words clearly when she summed up all the possibilities that Cain might bring with him. “Look, I know Fergus is a proper dick, but he has a reputation to protect. There’s too much at stake for him, and I don’t believe he will double-cross us. If we deliver, he’s gonna pay good bucks.” “And that’s where we might have a problem; actually delivering,” Bobby returns, taking in his head wrangler. Dean draws his head back, slightly hurt, frowning at his uncle’s words. “You don’t think I can get the job done?” “I’m not sure if anyone can, son,” the owner of the Gold Canyon Ranch states calmly. “The horse doesn’t just have ‘some behavioral issues’, as Fergus put it. He’s unapproachable, unpredictable, aggressive. That stallion is dangerous to everyone in a square mile radius. Jody rang me this morning to warn us.” “Jody?” the cowboy returns, puzzled. He’s aware that the female rancher knows a lot of people in this business, but he didn’t expect the news of the famous stallion’s arrival would spread so fast. “How did she even know that Cain was coming to us?” “Because MacLeod is a client of hers. Cain is currently in her stables.”

Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, emerald greens staring over the desk at the man on the other side. While gaping at his uncle, questions begin to race through his mind. Jody did business with Fergus? Jody is a good trainer with excellent judgment, so if she claims Cain is untrainable, that says something. Their last conversation in Flagstaff comes to mind, the news about Gabe’s hospitalization shocking him at the time. Could his friend’s injuries be the stallion’s doing?

Bobby watches his trusted worker process the information, rolling his chair a little closer and resting his forearms on the varnished wood, closing his hand over his fist. “I know this complicates things, but I’m gonna leave it up to you. If you think you can handle the stallion, I will trust your judgment. But I don’t want you to risk your neck for the money, Dean. We will find another way.”

The horseman chews on his lip as he ponders, his focus capturing nothing in particular as his eyes flick over the items and documents on the desk. “We’ll have a week to evaluate him. I’ll make the call after that,” he decides. “Mind if I contact Jody to get some insight on what I’m up against?” “Knock yourself out,” Bobby consents. “Just leave the numbers that we agreed to out of it.” “Will do.”

Dean gets up from his seat, pushing the chair closer to the desk before he intends to slip out of the office before he’s stopped by his boss. “One more thing,” the wise man says, looking over his enclosed hands. “What’s going on with you and the intern?”

Caught, the head wrangler freezes, eyes wide with shock and pure horror staring into the hallway. Shit. How the hell is he going to answer that? Is he referring to the dance at the opening night of the horse show or the palpable tension that has surrounded the former couple whenever they were in close range of each other? Dean doesn’t know, but he has the feeling that the continuation of this conversation is going to be anything but pleasant. Composing himself before he turns back to face his uncle.

“Nothin’. What do you mean?” He shrugs as the corners of his mouth draw down, pretending to be careless. “Don’t play dumb, boy. I was born at night, but not last night.” Bobby glares at him knowingly. “Are you messin’ around with her?” “No,” Dean says firmly, the truth in his words hurting him deep down. His uncle lifts his chin, holding the cowboy’s gaze while narrowing his eyes. It’s clear that he’s not buying. “You wanna explain then why you two were like two peas in a pot in Flagstaff, but can’t even look at each other now?”

With his hand still on the door handle, his nephew attempts to keep his act together, but then he sighs. Damn it, he was so close to making it out of this meeting alive. Oh well, what’s one more lecture, right?

“Look, there’s nothing going on, not anymore. I - uh, I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let it,” he admits. “I broke it off. It won’t happen again.” “Is this gonna be a problem?” his boss asks sternly. “If you two can’t work together--” “It isn’t. Garth will supervise her from now on. Just to prevent any issues in the future,” he continues, hoping the fact that they actually discussed how to carry on as colleagues from this point forward will put the concern to rest.

“There better be a future for her here on this ranch. I can’t afford to lose a free worker, especially not one as skilled as she is,” Bobby warns, not convinced. “I’d pray that she won’t pack her bags if I were you, ‘cause I’ll give ya one guess who’s gonna have to work twice as hard and whose ass I’m gonna bust.” “She won’t leave,” his head wrangler guarantees, willing to bet his life on it.

His promise might seem based on a hopeful hunch, but Y/N hasn’t given Dean any indication to question her professionalism. She even approached him in order to change the conditions of her internship, which couldn’t have been easy for her. Their interaction will be minimized and strictly business from now on, something he reckons she will handle much more gracefully than he will, simply because she has a bigger purpose to focus on. This placement is a stepping stone to her dream of owning her own ranch, and that goal hasn’t changed. He knows she won’t leave Gold Canyon.

Bobby observes his nephew, still bothered by the fact that he didn’t listen to him when he specifically told the bachelor not to get involved with the intern. He’s going to save the rant for another time, though, the sight of an already dejected man before him having him hold back. It seems like this is doing a number on young fellow, and considering how they were with each other at the horse show this weekend, he’s not surprised. The two reminded him of his twenties when he first got together with his Ellen. The boy is hurting, more than he lets on. “Alright then. Get goin’, I’ve got bills to pay,” he eventually says, shooing Dean out with a flick of the wrist.

Relieved that his uncle is cutting him some slack, he nods and silently pulls the door shut, putting a barrier between himself and the conversation he has been dreading for weeks. If only he could be able to tell Bobby that he’s with the girl he’s in love with; he would have taken the grumpy rebuke with a grin on his face. If only.

While stepping outside, the cowboy pulls his cellphone from his jeans pocket, looking up Jody Mills’ number in his contacts. He begins to slowly stroll back and forth on the porch in its sheltering shade, the floorboards moaning and cracking under his boots as he waits with his Nokia pressed against his ear. The steady tone beeps twice before his friend picks up. “Hey,” it sounds from the other side of the line. “I was hoping you’d call.” “Yeah, Bobby told me about Cain,” he returns. “Kinda complicates things, don’t it?” “I need to listen to me very carefully,” Jody starts, earnest and worried. “Do not take that horse into your stable.”

The cowboy sighs, glancing over the land while hooking his thumb behind his belt. He figured the female rancher would try to convince him to back off. “It’s good money, Jody, and I’ve handled difficult cases before. Cain deserves a shot. I have to try.” “I get it, but hear me out. If Fergus offered you a deal that seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. I know you’re an excellent trainer, hell, the best that I know. But I’m telling you, we’re not talking about a stallion with some authority issues here. That horse is twisted, has wires crossed. I have never seen such behavior,” she presses. “So many people have tried to straighten him out already. I did some digging, and Fergus’ supposedly ‘million dollar prospect’ has moved in and out nine different stables over the past year. No one has succeeded.”

He ponders, not taking her warning lightly. Jody is an experienced equestrian who has dealt with many tough animals. She even passed some horses on to him when she couldn’t get through to them. The woman is well aware of the limits to her expertise and has always been honest with clients when a horse was too much for her to handle, but never before has she doubted that the wrangler from the Gold Canyon Ranch could do the job.

“When Gabe got hurt, was it…?” Dean wonders, hesitant, not finishing his sentence. “It was Cain.”

He sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. Although he assumed it was the stallion who has put his former colleague into the hospital, it still shocks him. He continues to pace the deck in front of the Singer’s home. “How is he doing?” he wonders. Jody pulls in a deep breath, the message she’s about to deliver clearly a difficult one. “He’s never gonna walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down.”

Dean closes his eyes and swallows thickly. It’s the outcome they all feared, but hearing the confirmation makes his gut churn. Losing one's legs is a nightmare for everyone, but for a rider? He can’t possibly picture it, becoming wheelchair-bound. Honestly, he would rather die than to never be able to get in the saddle again.

“Dean, I know you believe every horse deserves a second chance, but please, let this one go. He is beyond repair. I’m not asking, I’m begging,” she pleads, a tremor in her voice. “If you take on Cain, it’s only a matter of time before you get hurt, or worse.”

The words are backed up by a heavy silence. The two stay quiet for a while, the words sinking in with the wrangler. Flight animals fueled by fear can do either two things; run or attack. If getting away from the supposed threat is impossible, they tend to go for the last. It’s not something the horse will even think about; it’s a survival instinct. When a naturally kind creature takes a turn like that, it becomes a thousand-pound killing machine. If Cain is truly that far gone, it is likely that he is indeed beyond saving. The trainer has to see it for himself, though, and not just because the ranch can use the cash. He realizes that if he doesn’t take on this task, someone else will, someone with less experience. If this stallion is really that lethal, the next novice trainer might make an error of judgment that will be his or her last. At least Dean has the skills. It seems like he is Cain’s last resort, because if he isn’t trainable, he will get the bullet at some point. He wouldn’t be the first horse to be put down because of similar problems.

“Thanks for the warning, Jody,” he responds after a long pause. “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Dean--” “I know. I know what you’re gonna say, but if I don’t do this, who knows what might happen to him. I’ve got a week to decide if we wanna go through with it. That’s the least I can do.” He can hear his friend grunt, frustrated, probably realizing that changing his mind was a long shot to begin with. “Just… be careful, okay?” “I will, promise,” Dean assures. “Talk to you later.”

The cowboy hangs up, staring at his phone for a few more seconds before he puts it away and steps out into the sun, heading back to the stables. The admonition continues to ring in his ears, and he allows the caution to imprint the decisions he needs to make in the upcoming days. After all, warned is forearmed.

Y/N wishes anyone had warned her how painful it is to have her heart broken by the person who made it beat just for him. Maybe she would have been more mindful then, more guarded. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him have it, had she known how careless he would be.

Around 5 o’clock, her new supervisor said it was okay if she wanted to take her own horse for a ride. Normally she trains Meadow either before or after shift, but she got all the work done at record speed, desperate for a distraction, that all her daily tasks were fulfilled two hours before dinner. Maybe Garth detected that she needed some alone-time with her four-legged friend, because he suggested the ride with a sympathetic smile and a kind nudge, sending her towards the Quarter’s box.

After straightening out the saddle pad, the cowgirl tightens the cinch. Meadow, who can be a bit of a grumpy mare when it comes to tacking up, stands still without moving a muscle, allowing her owner to ready her for a ride without pulling a prank like she usually does. Sometimes the cheeky horse will try to fish Y/N’s phone from her back pocket, nibble at her hat or her sleeve, or refuse to take a step aside when requested, but not today. Maybe she can sense that such an action could set her human off.

The horse accepts the bit when the cowgirl offers it to her, after which she pulls the headpiece over Meadow’s black-tipped ears, securing the straps skillfully. She sniffles, wiping her nose and forcing herself to keep her composure a little while longer. In a few minutes, when she’s away from prying eyes, she will allow to let the tears flow again, but not now, not yet.

Y/N unties her horse, places her left foot in the stirrup, and swings her right leg over the back of her bay mare, softly landing in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she steers her horse away from the tack up area, the smooth leather between her fingers giving her a sense of control that she’s missing in her love life.

Instead of leading Meadow towards the arena, the rider guides her towards the gate that leads to the trail. Her horse had an eventful weekend and gave it her all in competition, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her through a full workout. The performance took a lot out of the willing horse who never seizes to bring her best efforts and more. Even though the freestyle only lasted minutes, the athlete peaked with a brilliant execution of the routine, which takes a lot of skill and strength. Then there’s the ambiance of a show, the new environment, all the sensory overload. The combination of all those factors did a number the Quarter, and she deserves a calm and relaxing ride, much like the young woman she’s carrying on her back. Y/N is in no state to train, well aware that the heightened emotions will get the best of her if something might not work out the way she planned, and that’s not something she wants her companion to bear the consequences of. If anything, Meadow has been absolutely wonderful, seeming to understand that her person is sad and needs someone to lean on.

After closing the fence behind them, the girl and her horse follow the path that leads towards the hills. Cacti flank the road ahead towards the Superstition Mountains, which stand tall in the backdrop. The beautiful amber colored volcanic rock formations seem even more vibrant now that the setting sun blesses nature with a warm glow. The vegetation is much greener than it was when they searched for the herd of youngsters in the reservoir. Autumn is here, and within a couple of months, the ridges that reach for the sky will be covered in snow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful sight, at least that’s what Dean told her.

Now that it’s just her and Meadow, Y/N finally allows the suppressed tears to fall. The battle she has been fighting all day is one she knew she would lose eventually, she just wanted to be with her most faithful friend when the levee breaks. She doesn’t even intend to wipe the drops of despair away, knowing that she has to let it out now in order to keep up the facade later. And so the last rays of the day catch the shimmering pathways down her cheeks, similar to how the water cobbled at Willow’s Creek, where she and Dean shared their first kiss. All the memories, those perfect little moments that she thought to cherish forever, they are worth nothing now. It was all just a dream.

Y/N transits into a slow canter, hoping that the wind in her face will chase the sorrow away. She has to feel something completely opposite to the grief that is ripping her apart. She needs to experience freedom and the bond that comes along with this unique partnership between her and Meadow, the simplicity of moving across the desert like men and their horses have been doing so for centuries. No engines, no computers, no engineering. Just two souls of completely different species merging as one.

Resting her free hand on her horse’s neck and gripping the black mane, she pushes her heels into the Quarter’s flanks, aiding her to pick up speed. The bay mare takes over, her rider is no longer in control, but she no longer has to be. Y/N doesn’t need to direct this movie, because she trusts Meadow with her life. If there is any being on the face of the planet that she would follow blindly, it’s her companion. Meadow has never let her down, not once, and her owner knows there will never come a moment when she will. And so she breathes in, welcoming the wind to fill her lungs with newfound courage, brought on by the majestic animal that gallops across the landscape, carrying Y/N on her wings.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-six here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean x reader #Cowboy!Dean AU #Dean Winchester series #Cowboy!Dean series #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural AU #SPN #Supernatural #Supernatural series #SPN series #Dean angst #Dean fluff #RWM chapter 25 #Kate Huntington

175 notes · View notes

windsource · 4 years

Text

Catalysts & Changes: a 15x16 Meta

I wanted to talk really quickly about Dean’s change this season, especially regarding 15x16.

My main focus of this meta is to talk about Mary’s impact on Dean being the catalyst for this change we’ve been seeing, but I’m also going to be mentioning some Cas/destiel things to tie into this. So, here we go:

I. Mary as Catalyst & Myth

Mary is Dean’s reason. By that I mean that literally the whole reason Dean hunts--or, rather, continues to hunt, since John honestly forced it on him--was all in the hopes of catching what killed Mary. That was the main purpose of season 1, other than finding John. This is Dean’s motivation, his basis as a character.

Dean has also mentioned on multiple occasions that Mary was why he was brave, why he kept fighting, and that he often thought about her.

Dean: I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom...I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day (1.03 Dead in the Water)

Remember this quote, because I think it’s eerily similar to the one in 15.16 that I’ll talk about later in this post.

This makes sense--she’s his mom, he should be affected in some way about her death. But Dean takes it to the extreme, based his life around it, held on to it for far too long. Sam was different, because he never actually knew Mary, and we know from earlier seasons that their feelings about her are pretty different.

Meanwhile, almost any time Dean has dreamt of something ideal, Mary was there (think of his djinn dream in 2.20 where Mary never died, and in heaven in 5.16). We can especially see that this is true because of what Amara said in Gimme Shelter:

Dean: What was the point?

Amara: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person. That the myth you’d held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she’d lived, was just that: a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary, was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life. (15.15 Gimme Shelter)

Here, Amara was anticipating a turning point. She had wanted Dean to be “released” by having Mary back, but obviously this didn’t happen. Instead, Mary’s death was once again the catalyst for Dean’s change, just like it was the first time when Azazel killed her. We can also see from this that Dean has always been stuck in the past, hence Amara telling him that he should be focusing on now, instead. Another thing to note for future reference is the “real” line. Remember Cas saying “we are” when Dean asks him what is real.

Mary was also not exactly what Sam or Dean--hell, not even the viewers--had been expecting when she returned. She was scared, alone, and had trouble dealing with being back in a new century with her little boys all grown up and even worse-- hunting. But Dean eventually accepted this. He accepted the real version of Mary, but continued to idolize her and bring up the past.

II. Mary’s Death

Now let’s take a look at what’s happened since Mary’s second death:

Denial. Dean hopes Mary isn’t actually dead, even though all signs point to this.

Grief. Dean cries alone at the site of her death.

Blame. Dean blames Jack and Cas for what happened.

During and after the funeral, Dean avoids talking about it with anyone. However, he is obviously affected by her death. Sam even holds Cas back from going to Dean while burning the pyre. Bobby makes a comment about Dean being a lot like him and not wanting to show his feelings to others.

These all sound like the Dean that’s been built up since season 1. Not dealing with his feelings properly at all, pushing people away, denial. The one thing that makes this time different from other deaths, though, is that--just like the first time Mary died--there's no body to bring back. It's implied in 14.19 that if there had been, Dean would have tried, because he even tells Sam:

Note: This is also an episode where we see Jack being a mirror for Dean by doing exactly that--doing everything in his power to try to bring Mary back by himself. It doesn’t work; Mary’s gone for good. And she’s happy--she’s in heaven!

In addition to there not being a body, Dean also knows who did it. It's not some unidentifiable yellow-eyed demon that he can spend years tracking down, it's Jack. It's his son, it's someone he can't and won't kill, because he's family, even if he’s guilty. So Dean has no outlet for his rage except to put blame on not only Jack, but Cas (specifically in 15.03 The Rupture, Jack is dead at this point and he pushes Cas away for several episodes). And here is where Dean begins to change.

III. The Shift: Anger, Apologies, and Forgiveness

Because then, in 15.09 The Trap, there is a big, significant shift. Dean forgives Cas:

Dean: You’re my best friend, but I just let you go. ‘Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.

He cries, looks around, and gets on his knees.

Dean: I don’t know why I get so angry. I just know-I just know that it’s just always been there. And when things go bad, it just-it comes out. And I can’t- I can’t stop it. No matter how--how bad I want to, I just can’t stop it. And I forgive you, of course I forgive you. I’m sorry it took me so long to...I’m sorry it took me ‘til now to say it. (15.09 The Trap)

This is an incredibly important scene because it shows that Dean knows about his anger--the anger that Amara talks about in 15x15, and he wants to stop it.

Amara: I thought having [Mary] back would release you...put that fire out. Your anger. But I guess we both know I failed at that.

Dean: You’re damn right. (15.15 Gimme Shelter)

After this, Dean clarifies that he’s not only angry, but furious. This is change, this is change caused directly by Mary’s death--by Amara bringing her back again. Dean might say he is furious, but he has also said before that he wants to stop his anger. And, in many ways, he’s been taking steps towards doing that:

For example, here in 15.09 when Dean forgives Cas, (gif credit)

and here in 15.14 when he tells Jack he’s trying to forgive him for killing Mary, (gif credit)

and again in 15.16 for not telling Sam and Caitlin about the dead bodies when they were younger (gif credit)

and most recently, at the end of 15.16, when he didn’t tell Sam about Jack dying. (gif credit)

So now we’ve taken the turn towards forgiveness. Dean has been handing out apologies and forgiveness like never before this season, which is a definite change to how it used to be with him. He’s opening up, and he is trying to do better and be better than before. Billie also tells him this at the diner:

(gif credit)

I’m inclined here to believe that Dean is on that road to forgiveness with Jack. I mean, he said it himself in 15.14 that he’s trying, and Cas also vouched for him when Jack asked if forgiveness from Dean was a possibility. So in 15.16, when Dean says they have “no choice” but to let Jack die, it’s not because it doesn’t haunt him. It clearly does, with the entire episode dealing with Dean coping with the deaths of children, even his brother. He doesn’t want Jack to die, but his anger, his fury towards Chuck is taking precedence over that. It’s something he wants to change, but feels like he has no choice in the matter.

To add on to this, Jack has been a clear mirror for Dean this entire season. Dean’s argument with Sam about them having no choice is an indication of this. Just an episode prior in 15.15, Jack told Cas that the choice wasn’t his whether or not Jack died. So the pair ups in 15.17 aren’t all that surprising. With the episode being titled “Unity,” I think that the four of them will reach an agreement by the end of the episode (I keep mentioning agreements in all of my metas, because I think Chuck/Amara and Sam/Eileen’s agreement had important implications, but alas...), and be unified in a new plan to defeat Chuck.

As for Dean? I don’t think his ending is going to be expected. He is changing--he won’t be making the same decisions he used to make in earlier seasons.

I also find it fascinating that they made 15.16 a flashback episode to their past as children. Not only did 15.16 show us Dean being annoyed by sex, ignoring a possible love interest (which we were right as an audience to assume it would be written that way, because it has been so many times before), and how he’s dealing with the prospect of Jack’s death (with all of the imagery of dead children), but it really brought to light how much Dean has changed.

The most obvious way they showed us this was through this scene with Caitlin (who looks eerily like a young Mary...interesting), who says this:

(gif credit)

Dean: Always am.

Caitlin: You have changed. The old you never would have admitted that.

Dean: Well, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Caitlin: I think so. What do they say about getting older? You tell the truth more because lies...they don’t make anything better. (15.16 Drag Me Away (From You))

Now, ignoring the fact that Dean has admitted this (in 1.03), we know that the only time he has admitted to being scared before was in relation to Mary. But I think what the writers were going for here was not only to highlight Dean’s recent character growth by admitting to Caitlin that he’s changed, but also the running theme of lying this season. I’ve said it before that Sam has been the only one telling the truth in s15, and I think it’ll eventually come into play during the final episodes. The truth/lies aspect will become a central plot point--I mean, it already is. But I think it’ll factor into how the show will end as a whole, especially with this episode and previous ones alluding to normalcy and the possibility of it for Sam.

I’m going to finish this here, because I’ve dragged on too long, but some other (destiel) things to note are:

Dean falling to his knees in the hallway as a parallel to falling on his knees in Purgatory, praying to Cas, apologizing.

Dean cutting off Baba Yaga’s fingers, whereas Cas restored a woman’s fingers in 15x15. The pastor telling Cas that people are god’s hands; they lift each other up with each finger. The implications of Dean cutting people off, and Cas bringing people together.

another amazing meta regarding 15.16 and another about dean changing + 15.16

#i have literally spent HOURS on this #im so sorry it's so long oh my god #supernatural meta #rambleoncas meta #spn 15x16 #spn spoilers #spn #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #roc original #my post

93 notes · View notes

cynic-spirit · 3 years

Text

The Poem Series (5) A Red, Red Rose– John Wick

John steps out of his car, and with the bouquet in his hand strides to the door of Diana’s house. The night was indeed beautiful. Breeze strolled over and added to his decorum. John raised his hand and rings the doorbell. The assassin hears the clicks of the heels, and the subtle turning of the door knob. His period of lonely respite has come to an end. The door opens to reveal Diana. The moon’s delicate light turned the world a-flame when John saw her. Her arched eyebrows inclined slightly when she saw him. Her languid eyelashes of velvet black blinked slowly as if to urge me to speak something.

“Hi”

“Hi John”

“These are for you”

John hands her the bouquet. She received them with an expression John had never seen in his line of work. What was it? Gratitude, affection, surprise, or contemplation. She smiled.

“Thank you”

There it was, The saccharine voice again, that sent an electric jolt in John.

“I will just keep them in a vase and we can leave”

“Yes, sure”

It was when she was putting the flowers in the vase that John actually saw the outfit. In the sea of the loud and ostentatious froth of clothes that John had seen on women, Diana was the sartorial antidote in the form of class. An elegant outfit with sleek appearance. Diana commanded respect just by her appearance.

Diana, on the other hand was equally breathless. She had not expected to see John with a bouquet of flowers. She could not resist going back to her past. When was the last time Samuel brought her flowers, In two years, never. She realized what was she missing in life. She wanted respect and partnership from a man, Samuel was anything but, and now she is willing to move on from him to the mysterious John Wick. After putting the flowers in a crystal, long stemmed vase, Diana turns.

“Lets go, John”

The walk to the car was short. She sat as John opened the door for her. She was sure he could see the pink on her cheeks. This would be a long night.

John takes Diana to a restaurant. It is not too fancy but it is not too casual either. The place is dimly lit. There are a few people and couples scattered here and there. The place had a stage with a band playing some smooth jazz. Diana was enchanted by the place, but she was brought out of her reverie when she felt John’s hand on her back.

“This way”

Diana walked with John to their table. It was in the back of the restaurant where a gigantic window showed a wonderful view of the lake outside. The table had a beautiful crystal vase with a scarlet rose adorning it. He pulls the chair for her. She whispered a small ‘thank you’ furiously blushing. The waiter left two menu and left them alone at the table. There was something in the air now- what was it? Mystery, intrigue, anticipation, nervousness, attraction, love? Diana looks up to John and finds him staring at her. Should she talk first or wait for him to speak?

John could not believe that the woman who has consumed his thoughts for the past 24 hrs is sitting in front of him. There are so many thinks he wishes to speak to her. He couldn’t sleep, He couldn’t eat, He couldn’t do anything but think about her. At night he dreamt of her, all day he waited to see her, and when he is seeing her, his heart turns over and he thinks he will faint with desire. He could look at her all evening, but he will talk. He want to know his beloved even if he cannot reveal much about himself to her.

“Do you like the place?”

“Yes , its beautiful. Do you come here often?”

“I do”

“Alone? Or with someone?”

“You are the first one whom I brought here.”

“I find it hard to believe”

“Why?”

“Because, look at you. You must have women swarming around you”

“Those women, they don’t, … they never did what you have done to me in a few hours Diana”

“What have I done to you?”

“Humanized me”

Diana gasps a little. He feels humanized, by me? How tormented he must be? It is no surprise that he doesn’t talk, doesn’t trust. Diana saw a little of her own self in him. Maybe they can heal each other together.

“I am not such a human myself John.”

“Now, I find it hard to believe”

“Tell me something about yourself John. “

“Ask me”

“will you answer?”

“Yes”

“What do you like John?”

“You”

“are you trying to be cheesy?”

“I am trying to impress you.”

“By being cheesy?”

“By being truthful”

“Why do you want to impress me?”

“So I can go ahead”

“go ahead where?”

“to the next step”

“which is…?”

“confessing my true feelings for you”

Diana is startled. She has never met a man so mysterious yet so honest. She was falling for him herself. After Samuel, she had decided not to involve herself with any man for a long time until John came and hit her like a freight train. There was a significant age difference between them, She was 25, he was nearly 42, but was it really significant enough to become a problem? No, because life is not governed by will, rules, or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of color in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play — it is on things like these that our lives depend. Diana wanted her life to depend on John. She took a leap of faith.

“What are your true feelings for me John?”

“If I tell you, you might find it too soon”

“If you won’t tell me, I might think you hate me”

John was shocked. How could she think so low of herself. How could she think that he can dare to hate her when all he wants is to worship the ground she walks on. John looks at her, When he looked into her eyes, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke — the language that everyone on Earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. What John felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. Because when you know the language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning.

“Diana, I have for the first time found what I can truly love — I have found you. You are my sympathy — my better self — my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you are good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you — and, kindling in pure, powerful flame. I want to fuse your soul with me in one”

“John!”

“Yes Diana. Those are my feelings for you”

“They are strong, intense”

“You find it too soon, dont you?”

“I wish I did ,but you have consumed my thoughts too John. I don’t know if I love you, but I like you, I like you more than just being a friend, I find you attractive and alluring, so much that I do not understand them myself and I am willing to delve into this strange journey with you without a second thought to find out.”

At that honest confession from her, John feels relieved. His beloved has accepted him. For the remaining of his life he would spend it making her feel loved and cherished. He would protect her, be with her, and love her.

“Does that mean I get a second date?” (John smiles and asks a little playfully. Things have been intense between them since they met.

“It means you get as many dates as you would like John” (Diana smiles and winks to him. The waiter comes with their order and her attention now gets to the red rose on the vase at their table. It was a small turn of her eye, but the observant assassin did not miss it)

“Do you like flowers, Diana?”

“Yes, I do John. A lot. I always wished to have a garden for myself, but my job and my place cannot accommodate that desire.”

“It’s a beautiful rose, Schatje”

“What does it mean?”

“What does what mean?

“the word that you used”

“It means little treasure. Its Dutch”

“What other languages do you speak John?”

(John leans in on the table, .takes her hand and kisses on her knuckles lightly.) “Don’t you wanna find out ?”

Diana chuckles. She touches the petals of the rose lightly. “You will have to do better than steal my words John Wick”

“I am up for a challenge” John Smirks.

“Is that so?” Diana challenges.

(John takes the rose from the vase, and touches Diana’s hands with its petals. To her astonishment, he speaks, oh lord! he speaks, in that baritone voice of his, something that she never expected him to say)

“O my Lve is like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

That’s sweetly played in tune..”

Dammit John, she thought, of all the things she imagined John would say or do, narrating Robert Burns was not one of them. If Icarus was here, he wouldn’t need to fly near the sun to melt his wings. John’s voice was enough. His fiery presence was enough.

“I thought you said you don’t understand poetry John”

“I don’t understand poetry Diana, But I do remember them”

Diana found it difficult to breathe after that. She remembered something that she had read a long time ago and it seemed it was true. John is more herself than she was. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Diana recollected those lines.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x ofc #john wick x original character #john wick x original female character #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x oc #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #the continental #continental #baba yaga #the boogeyman #boogeyman

27 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Here is the interview that has been translated by Google, from the link ‘1′ on this post:

After Freddie Mercury visited Zagreb, it was clear why he was leading two big guys everywhere

By YugoPapir

TODAY, exactly 25 years ago , the great Freddie Mercury passed away , and on that occasion we remember his visit to Zagreb and the interview he gave on that occasion. It was back in 1979 ...

"In a situation of useless concert rock scene (such as at least Belgrade), an interview with one of the world's famous rock stars is a special event. However, although the man is not in a position to choose and has no experience with Jagger, Lennon or Dylan, these conversations are sometimes it comes down to the usual routine of exchanging questions and answers ... Kind me, kind respondent ... I smile, the respondent smiles I ask a question, I know the answer in advance.

Hand on heart, that was exactly what the conversation with the first man of the Queen group was like. Despite the millions of records sold, the sound clearly defined and the status of the stars, the guys from the group do not have a particularly interesting "story" behind them. The only way to do something extraordinary is to try to provoke the interlocutor, but one usually doesn't have the opportunity to do so in such "serially" organized meetings between stars and the press, where a bunch of idle idlers are dragged around without much smarter work in mind.

The press conference was held in "Intercontinental" full of boring luxury and, on this occasion, unusual teams. After a short wait (the stars are always late), the Queen appeared, dressed as employees of an English insurance company on vacation.

After a few moments of doubt, various guys of unknown faces and occupations attacked them. Of course the main victim was Mercury. Honestly, I didn’t expect so many people with tape recorders, notebooks and similar supplies. It is not only clear to me where they will be able to place all this, because I have not seen the results of that journalistic attack anywhere except in "Polet" from an interview done on another occasion.

Maybe it's better not to publish it anywhere because I heard so much nonsense and ignorance in a short time that I felt pity for poor Freddy. Now it is clear to me why he is taking with him two guys, as if removed from the mountain, who were strategically arranged around the front door during the whole press conference.

And finally when the crowd subsided I seized the opportunity to talk to Mercury.

Not particularly tall, black, in a leather jacket and jeans, he looked more like one of the tappers in front of Belgrade cinemas than the world-famous rock old man. Stoic accepted to give an interview for "Jukebox", although over time he approved and became somewhat more exhaustive. I probably bothered him less than the others.

As usual, I started from the beginning ...

"It's a long story. Brian, Roger and I knew each other since we were students. John came later. We had experiences with earlier bands where we played as high school students. When we created Queen we had a clear idea of what we wanted to do and our work today is the evolution of these plans and dreams.We had a very clear guiding star.From the very beginning.

Is it still clear that guiding star after all these successes and millions of records sold?

Why not. The halls where we play are always full, the records are on the charts. Why not?

From the articles we read about you, it could not be said that the critics really like you. What does it look like to be in one of the world’s leading rock bands while at the same time reading how records are being ruthlessly denigrated?

This is the case only with the English press. It could not be said that we live in the best relationship with them. The English today have no choice but to be cynical, which is why the press is like that to us. That’s why you can rarely read our interview at NME or Melody Maker. There is no point in us being a training ground for them. We learned to live with it and, you know, I didn’t care too much about it. Our records sell well. In recent years, a big thing has happened with punk, and we are understood as the total opposite.

One of the main drawbacks is the dependence on technology. Your records are lavishly produced to perfection ...

You can't survive without technology today. Loudspeakers, light instruments and the most ordinary rock band look like an LP&P to a folk group or a symphony orchestra ... Even today they can't survive without technology. Electricity is all around us and you can't avoid it. The production on our records is rich, but I don’t think it’s an end in itself as many want to present. I play a plain piano, John a plain “Fender bass,” only Brian has special “pranks” that I make myself, but that’s not overdone either. The most important thing is that it is all in the service of the idea.

You are all college educated. Do you think that had an impact on this direction of the group. I have noticed that there are prejudices in English newspapers about such groups, in fact about groups that originated from such an environment, starting from “Genesis” onwards?

First of all, we don't have much to do with "Genesis", then such prejudices are the most common nonsense. I don't see any purpose for them. I don't even know that being in college automatically makes us intellectuals.

I have no doubt that you spend a lot of time in the studio preparing the album, that's obvious. You've created some kind of art since filming (interrupts me) ...

We record, than what. That's what everyone does! But we made a style out of it. We do everything in a special way and I think there is imagination. It's specificity, not covering up weaknesses or something like that ... We don't even try to reproduce the sound from our records ... It's hours and hours of work and there are hundreds and hundreds of recorded sections.

The record is one thing, and the concert is quite another. Although some people pass it on to us as a flaw, we are very happy with their gig. It would be a tedious and boring job to always play the same ... At one time we were thinking of introducing assistant musicians to our performances, but I don't think that would work. It is our music and we understand it best. Such a way would only bring us unnecessary problems and obligations.

Can any significant changes in your sound and direction be expected on the next panels. There is a lot of criticism that you got into a certain "gyre" ...

Again about the critics ... we care the least about them! We have created a certain sound, success, image and that is what we are. It is logical for the group to evolve slowly ... It would be stupid to try something radically different ... And that is what the "scribblers" expect to have something to fill the newspaper with. Drastic changes lead nowhere and make no sense. You can't become something else overnight ...

Normally we will change. Whoever has followed our work so far is clear in which direction. This is also evident from our latest albums. There is no longer as much luxury as at "Opera" or "Racing" ... I think that our next albums will develop in that direction.

The group "Queen" is considered to be a very stable formation. No sharper disagreements were heard, and only the drummer had solo outings. Should we expect new solo projects and do they pose a danger to the group?

Although Roger has a lot of experience with solo attempts, I don't see any danger in that for the group "Queen". I think the best we can provide, we provide together. Solo attempts are just a small change of climate and refreshment. There is no special need to try our luck outside the team. When we realize we have nowhere else to go, the group disbands - there are no illusions that it won’t come and we don’t even think about it.

Do you have any information about your audience in Yugoslavia, and does the sale of records in our small market mean anything to you financially?

Well, I've heard from people in our company that we sell a lot of records. Do you see these gold and silver plates we got here? Also, we care that our music is heard all over the world, that everyone listens to it, that's why we perform so much. One should not be blasé ... It is not only important for us to be popular in England, America and Japan ... People are the same everywhere and we like to play for them ... This is just rock'n'roll after all ... "

Interviewed by: Branko Vukojević, filmed by: Dražen Kalenić (Jukebox, 1979)

#queen #queen band #freddie mercury

18 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

House of the Dragon: Game of Thrones Prequel Trailer Breakdown

https://ift.tt/3BiDiJV

It’s been far too long since TV viewers got to spend time in Westeros. Thankfully, we will all be returning soon. Today HBO Max revealed an official teaser for House of the Dragon, the first of many planned Game of Thrones spinoffs. Check it out below.

This story is a prequel that picks up roughly 200 years before the events of the epic HBO series. The Targaryen dynasty is on its fifth king of the Seven Kingdoms. They’ve got all the dragons they could want and things are going great in Westeros. Surely, no petty family squabble over succession could possibly ruin such a great thing! Unfortunately for the Targaryen family, George R.R. Martin kind of lives for this shit.

House of the Dragon is set to cover a major event in Westerosi history known as the Dance of the Dragons. This is when a crisis of succession leads to an enormous civil war that devastates the continent and kills off a large percentage of House Targaryen’s dragons. And those dragons are pretty important, you see. As the voiceover in the teaser indicates “Gods, kings, fire, and blood. Dreams didn’t make us kings. Dragons did.”

Though this teaser is only just over a minute long, it packs quite a bit of exciting imagery within it. Let’s break down exactly what it is we’re seeing here, using Martin’s prequel text Fire & Blood as a guide.

Ser Otto Hightower

House of the Dragon Photos Offer First Look at Thrones Prequel Characters

By Alec Bojalad

Fans of Game of Thrones should immediately recognize the pendant on the chest of this unseen character. That is worn by the “Hand of the King” who is essentially the King of the Seven Kingdoms’ chief of staff. Some Hands of the King are more historically significant than others and the House of the Dragon will depict a particularly important one. Though we don’t see his face, this character is certainly Ser Otto Hightower (Rhys Ifans).

The Hightowers hail from Oldtown in The Reach, one of the biggest and most powerful cities in the Seven Kingdoms. In fact, before Aegon I’s arrival on the continent and the creation of King’s Landing, Oldtown was THE city in Westeros. As such, the Hightower family that rules Oldtown is extremely powerful. Though Otto’s brother is the Lord of Oldtown, Otto has been a mainstay of King’s Landing for years. He is a deeply political man who counts the king’s brother Daemon as his biggest rival. His daughter is also quite attractive and may or may not catch the eye of King Viserys I.

King Viserys I

Ah yes, King Viserys I: the head honcho. Viserys I (Paddy Considine) is the fifth king of the Targaryen dynasty. He seems to be doing a decent job but that might just be because his reign followed that of his grandfather Jaehaerys I – perhaps the greatest king Westeros ever had. Viserys’s biggest “sin” is his love of his daughter Rhaenyra. Viserys is grooming her to be Westeros’s ruling monarch despite the precdent of patrilineal succession being set under Jaehaerys’s reign.

The prominent inclusion of Viserys’ sword in this shot might not be a coincidence. All Targaryen kings through Aegon IV wielded Aegon I’s Valyrian steel sword Blackfyre. Should someone hypothetically nab that sword in a civil war it would lend an air of legitimacy to their claim.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen (Emma D’Arcy). This may be the closest this story has to a “main character.” Rhaenyra is the apple of her father King Viserys’s eye. In fact, for much of her youth she was pretty much the apple of everyone’s eye. Known as the “Realm’s Delight”, Rhaenyra has a very positive approval rating in the Seven Kingdoms. She is Viserys’s only child from his marriage to Queen Aemma of House Arryn. She appears to have a clear path to the Iron Throne … unless her father does something crazy like say, get remarried.

Daemon Targaryen

Here we have Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. Daemon (Matt Smith) is the king’s younger brother and therefore Rhaenyra’s uncle. In the war to come, Daemon will be one of the most important players. He is an excellent warrior but also a bit unbearable. Otto Hightower hates him and Viserys himself isn’t too taken by him. His niece certainly loves him though. Perhaps a bit too much.

This may not be a particularly important moment but it does serve as a reminder that the Targaryen fashion sense is so rad. This also, however, could be a fateful duel between Daemon Targaryen and Ser Criston Cole (Fabien Frankel), the latter of which loves a morningstar and who will play an important role in the palace intrigue to come.

Corlys Velaryon a.k.a. The Sea Snake

Now THIS guy is very important. This is Corlys Velaryon a.k.a. The Sea Snake (Steve Toussaint). Think of him as House of the Dragon’s Tywin Lannister, that is to say: the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms who does not sit on the Iron Throne. House Velaryon dates its lineage back to Old Valyria just like the Targaryens. As such the two families are quite close, with Corlys even marrying Princess Rhaenys Targaryen (Eve Best).

Even beyond his family’s power, however, Corlys is a particularly impressive man. He is a prolific sailor and adventurer who has traveled all over the world, bringing many riches back home with him. Should a civil war break out, he would be a very important ally to win.

Speaking of Velaryons, here is the whole crew. It’s unknown who is who here but the following actors have been confirmed to be a part of the Velaryon family:

– Wil Johnson as Ser Vaemond Velaryon – Younger brother to Coryls Velaryon and commander in the Velaryon navy – John Macmillan as Ser Laenor Velaryon – Son of Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen – Savannah Steyn as Lady Laena Velayron – Daughter of Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen – Theo Nate as Ser Laenor Velaryon – Son of Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen

I believe we’re seeing the adolescent Ser Laenor to Corlys’s left. His wife Rhaenys is also accompanying him.

This is a conspicuous shot of the Iron Throne – the thing that each character is striving for and the thing that also no longer exists, thanks to Drogon.

Mysaria

Here we see Sonoya Mizuno (Devs, Ex Machina) as Mysaria, Daemon’s Mistress of Whisperers and also just his mistress. Mysaria is pretty rad. She’s a dancer from the Free City of Lys in Essos who caught Daemon’s eye. She comes to serve a pretty important role in the Dance of the Dragons and is involved with at least one unbearably cruel act. Much of Westeros comes to know her as “Lady Misery.”

Lady Alicent Hightower

Told you Ser Otto Hightower’s daughter was attractive! This is Lady Alicent Hightower (Olivia Cooker), who will soon catch the king’s eye. Here, however, she appears to be in distress. She’s running through the court in Maegor’s Holdfast and holding what could be the same Valyrian dagger that caused so much strife in Game of Thrones. What events could this cursed thing have set in motion here? It’s hard to say but it may involve her son Aemon losing an eye.

Remember how much fun the jousting episodes were in Game of Thrones season 1? So much can happen at a tourney. It’s a fun place for highborn and commoners alike to take in some sweet violence. It’s also dramatically fertile ground for many schemes to take shape. Based on the heraldry of a red archer on a green field, this tournament is being held in Horn Hill, home of House Tarly (yes, as in Samwell Tarly). The two participants in this particular joust appear to be Ser Criston Cole again and a House Tarly knight.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

In Fire & Blood, the events that set the Dance of the Dragons in motion begin at a tourney in King’s Landing. Alicent Hightower is adorned in green and Rhaenyra Targaryen in black, so when the factions eventually divide they are known as the “greens” and the “blacks.”

At first glance this appears to be a simple training session. But then it becomes clear that these two combatants really hate each other. We are likely seeing here a skirmish between one of Lady Alicent’s sons and one of Lady Rhaenyra’s. You might think that the blond-haired boy is Rhaenyra’s son but curiously all of her and her blond husband Laenor’s kids come out with jet black hair. He almost looks a little bit more like Ser Harwin Strong (Ryan Corr). Interesting.

House of the Dragon will premiere in 2022 on HBO and HBO Max.

The post House of the Dragon: Game of Thrones Prequel Trailer Breakdown appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3aaV9Xq

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

2 notes · View notes

angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

only fools {Dominique Beyrand}

Summary: You’re in love with Roger’s new girlfriend. Is it easier to pretend you don’t have feelings or come clean? You say both, eventually! The truth is bittersweet.

A/N: 4331 words. ANGST!! I don’t know much abt Dominique so this is based 100% on borhap, tho there’s a few bits abt the band from real life, but its borhap based for the most part. i hope you like it!! i’m pretty sure the reader is gender neutral, but there may be 1 or 2 female pronouns accidentally. there’s mentions of cheating.

----

You’ve been friends with Queen for arguably too long, know them now in excruciating and almost intimate detail, and are absolutely immune to their various charms and stardom. It started in university, with you as a popular radio jockey on campus, and living in a flat around the corner from Freddie and Roger’s little market stall in Kensington.

You know of their band, of course, you’ve always got your ear to the ground for local talent, and you jokingly tell them that if they ever get an album together, you’d be the the first to play it. A year and a half later, they hold you to that.

When they’re making it big in the mid-70s, and you’ve scored your own show on an actual radio station, they start turning to you when they want to release a single, or give an interview, and people start asking why. You simply shrug and smile, which is easier than explaining that you’d spent a good deal of your second year of uni bothering Freddie and Roger at their stall instead of doing your homework, and somehow that became a friendship, and now you and John have tea every Monday afternoon, and Brian tried to teach you guitar once, but ended up waxing poetic about his thesis when you noted that his desk was rather messy.

So yes, you know them rather well, since the start of the band’s musical career, in fact, and have witness, and occasional party to, some of their dumber, post-gig antics, which has given you both regrets, and immunity to their antics. Never again will you be Roger’s look out when he climbs to a third story balcony for a girl - he lost a shoe on the second floor and it hit you in the back of the head. Prick.

Which makes it rather unfortunate that you’ve taken such a liking to his latest girlfriend. At first you tell yourself that it’s simple and platonic appreciation for another individual with a head on their shoulders, that you liked her in the same way that you like John or Brian when they were being sensible. When you go out with the band, which isn’t a lot these days, but still it’s enough, she seems to make a point of including you, of smiling at you like a friend though you barely know each other.

Always, she is by Roger’s side, and you think this is the first time you’ve seen him properly smitten, which makes it ache, in such a strange way, when she smiles back at him. You’ve never felt like this over Chrissie, or Veronica, or Mary. But you push it down, and when they invite you to go to their concerts, you find yourself in the wings by her side, and you dance with her at the afterparties when she offers her hand, and she invites you to lunch to catch up every few weeks.

It’s perfectly harmless, you tell yourself as you actively repress the strange sort of desire she unknowingly elicits from you.

There’s something about her, beyond a pretty face, and a vicious smile, more than her sharp wit and dangerously intoxicating perfume, like she could ask you to walk over hot coals and you’d crawl to make her happy.

When she laughs over lunch, like actually laughs, full-bellied, head thrown back, glowing in the afternoon sunshine at something you’d said, you suddenly remember every stupid and horny antic Roger has ever been party to, often at the expense of whatever girl he was meant to be seeing at the time, and you want to tell Dominique to run fast and far, to try and protect her. But Roger’s told you he’s changed, that he’s in love, and you grit your teeth.

You’re kind of fucked.

And there’s no-one in your life who you can talk to without being judged for feeling like this.

So you take what you can get.

You go out with the band when they invite you, you catch up with Dom often when they go on tour, and you realise, with a strange and painful clarity, that she’s become your best friend.

“How come you’ll agree to help Dom with shenanigans, but not me?” Roger plays at being jealous of your not-so-secret favoritism, his arm around Dominique in a hotel bar that had been closed for a private, Queen function, currently buzzing with the band members, their various significant others, members of the press, members of their tour group, and management team. And you.

You and Dominique share an amused, almost conspiratorial look.

“Because I actually like her,” you tell Roger, flatly, and he raises is eyebrows when you look back at him. You don’t miss Dominique’s pleased little smile that she hides in her glass.

“That’s just about the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he shakes his head, clearly not actually taking your words to heart, but you huff a laugh.

“And her shenanigans never landed me in the emergency room -”

“Hey, I was the one with the sprained ankle -”

“You acted like you were dying, Rog,” you sighed deeply, “you tried to bribe me to run a red light,” and Dominique gives her boyfriend a surprised, vaguely judgmental look as Roger quickly turned pink.

“I was in grave pain.”

“Darling, you are a grave pain,” Dominique told him sweetly, and Roger pressed his hand to his chest, scandalised.

“Et tu, my love?”

But Dominique’s looking at him all fond and sappy when she tells him that you’ve got a point; you excuse yourself right as Roger lowers his voice and reminds her that there’s times she seems to think he’s pretty great, voice laced with heavy innuendo.

You’re discussing the band’s latest album with their sound tech when Dominique finds you again, looking recently debauched, lips all kiss-bruised despite her fresh coat of lipstick. You quietly and desperately wish you would have been the cause of her unkempt state, the sight alone making you want to do unseemly things to her.

“Sorry about that, Roger had a point to prove,” she says lightly, as if nothing had happened, and she snakes her arm through yours as she joins the conversation.

“Did he prove it?” You asked flatly, if only to play along for her benefit. Her cheeks flushed for a moment as she cleared her throat, looking over her shoulder.

“Twice,” she had to try and hide her grin from the scandalized sound tech. When you followed her gaze, your eyes met Roger’s; he’s so damn smug. You felt like you were going to put your fist through a wall.

The next time you caught up with Dom, however, a few days later, she apologises again, looking guilty for reasons you can’t quite understand.

“Why are you apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured her, gently putting your hands on hers over the table; when she meets your gaze over the table, she blinks quickly, processing the information.

“I just felt like I should,” even she doesn’t know why she’s apologising again, “it wasn’t... it was inappropriate.” She finally settles on, and you give a fond, if longsuffering smile.

“When’s Roger ever appropriate at a party?”

“I suppose,” she still looks unsure, however, but the waiter comes over and the ordeal is forgotten.

Except that it’s not. There’s something new in the way she looks at you, almost hesitant, faintly apologetic, and even a little confused. It’s not something you’re used to, Dominique’s always been endlessly confident and forthright, she’s never been cautious in the history of your friendship.

“I’m worried you think less of me,” she says, blunt as always, when you finally ask what’s wrong.

“Dom, nothing you could do would ever make me think less of you,” you tell her with probably too much honesty. After a moment spent mulling your words over, she moves closer on your plush little sofa, until her leg pressed flush against yours.

“I care about you a great deal,” she tells you, with her own sudden burst of honesty, “and it’s been rough with Roger on tour; I don’t think I could have gotten through it half as well without you,” and she’s looking at you, almost nothing in her expression, like she’s gauging your reaction to let her know how to feel about all of this.

You’re absolutely terrified she can read every feeling and emotion as it passes through you at her words, and the I want to kiss you to make you shut up about your stupid boyfriend that’s flashing like a neon sign at the front of your brain.

“I care about you too,” is what you manage after a beat of panicked hesitation, trying not to act as flustered as you feel. Her smile is warm and confident, however, and she thanks you gently, turning back to the TV that had become white noise in your ears. You spend a good few moments more just watching her, wondering what that was all about, before she leans against you, and you just kind of have to accept it.

But there’s something different now, a new energy between you both when you spend time together; she’s more tactile, more prone to staying with you at events, more likely to pick you, you realise.

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend?” Roger once jokes, and you try not to let your panic show.

“If I was, you’d deserve it,” you laugh, but his expression scrunches up, reading the insult and implications in your words. You get the feeling Roger doesn’t much like you anymore.

But Dominique’s skin is always warm against yours, her hand in yours when strolling about the city, and you get lost in her perfume and her laughter, and some nights she comes over while Roger’s away, and you get tipsy together while watching TV or listening to music, and she’ll curl into your touch and whisper you’re too good to me like it’s a guilty secret the rest of the world can’t hear. She sleeps on your sofa rather than going home to the luxurious, empty bed she shares with Roger, and in the morning you wake to her humming and making breakfast.

There’s something so domestic about it, and she’ll smile at you, sipping tea in the kitchen, and your heart will melt.

You want to be allowed to love her, but Roger will always come home.

Once, twice, a slow song will play on the radio, and she’ll ask you to dance, wrapping herself up in you as you sway in your living room, both of you drunk on a Sunday evening, her breathing slow and even, her eyes closed, and you wonder what she’s picturing. Maybe her boyfriend. Fiancé. Fuck.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes her hands holding your face to register that you’d both stopped moving. Her smile is soft, eyes warm.

“You’d look beautiful in a ball gown,” she says with quiet adoration, and before you can process that that was what she was thinking, your body’s moved of it’s own accord, and you’re kissing her.

And she’s kissing you back, tasting like wine and fruit, lips soft and gentle, fitting against yours perfectly. She sighs softly against your lips, hands coming to fist in the collar of your shirt as she pulls you closer and I love you tumbles involuntarily from your lips. She pauses.

“I know,” her voice is gently apologetic, barely more than a whisper, “I’m sorry.” You can see she wants to say more, wants to kiss you again, like she wants to live in this moment before it had suddenly turned sour. Her I love you too goes unspoken, but she cups your face in her hands again, thumbs running across your cheeks, across the sudden, faint shock and sorrow written in your expression. She doesn’t step back, she doesn’t even try.

“I should go.”

“Do you want to go?” You ask, voice soft, the words barely registering to your own ears. There’s a long moment of silence as she considers, weighs her options, hesitates before kissing you again. It hurts, it’s a uniquely masochistic form of torture you’re putting yourself through, but she stays, and the next day you both act like nothing happened.

She’ll make breakfast, smile at you over tea, and in a few months, she’ll marry Roger.

You’re not invited to the wedding, and part of you is grateful.

“Aren’t you going to tell me not to go through with it?” She half jokes over coffee a few days before, which shocks you.

“Why?” You’re concerned rather than amused, and she looks a little guilty when she meets your gaze.

“I- do you... still have feelings for me?” She asks, uncertain, and you sigh deeply, sitting back in your chair.

“Do you love Roger, Dom?”

“Of course,” she answers immediately, a little defensive, which seems strange given the situation, but she thaws and takes a long sip of her drink, “I do, I really do.” She admits, sounding almost disappointed in herself.

“Then it doesn’t matter what I feel; do what makes you happy.” You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’d lost to Roger a long time ago; brief affair aside, you don’t want to make Dominique question her world so close to her happy ending.

So you pointedly don’t ask how she feels about you.

According to the photos in the tabloid, it’s a beautiful wedding, and Dominique and Roger make a picture perfect couple. You spend three days in your house, wrapped in a blanket in front of your TV; you don’t take the phone off the hook in case work calls, but Dom’s on her honeymoon, so you’re not expecting to get any calls from her.

There’s a full month of radio silence while she’s being whisked off to somewhere romantic, and it’s the longest the two of you have gone without talking since you’d met. The minute she gets back, however, she calls and asks you to lunch, but hesitates, adding that if you didn’t want to -

“Of course I want to!” You’re delighted to hear from her, and only realise once you hang up how much it’s going to hurt.

Her wedding ring catches the light and you want to immediately flee to the Scottish highlands and become a goat farmer and never talk to another living person again at the sight of it. You smile, and hug her in greeting.

You talk about work, both yours and hers, and about how Freddie’s buying a mansion in London, and how cute John’s kids are, and about everything but the very recent wedding she’d gone through, or the husband she now has.

This time, when you take her hand to traverse the city together, you feel the cold metal of her wedding ring, and something inside you dies, just a little. It’s like she can tell, however, because she immediately skirts around you to take your other hand, tucking you close. And you let her. Every time, you let her.

Nothing happens between you both, nothing like before, but she still comes over when Roger’s on tour, still sleeps on your sofa, still spends time with you around her busy work schedule, and it hurts to see her hurting, when she gets tired and lets slip about the rumours she’s heard. Apart from one night, she’s practically been a saint to the drummer; his record, however does not appear to be so clean. But she puts on a brave face, and he always comes home.

Freddie throws a party in the early eighties, dressed in a crown and cape, he’s invited everyone remotely outlandish in London, so it seems, and of course his band, and you. You find them all on a cluster of gilded sofas, looking already worn out by the whole affair, despite everyone partying around them. But Dominique brightens when she sees you, and pulls you in to the conversation. Roger, already in a mood, does not even look at you as the rest of the band greets you warmly where you’ve perched on the arm of the sofa by Dominique, her free hand coming up to rest on your thigh.

They’re teasing Roger about his car song again, which you refrain from, not that you don’t love teasing him about that ridiculous song, but you’re also pretty sure that if you speak to him, he’ll throw his drink at you.

But Freddie joins them, too exuberant by half for the muted mood of the band amidst the partygoers, and Roger’s ready to leave when Freddie makes a comment that turns your blood to ice.

“Loyalty’s so important, don’t you think Dominique?”

The world around you fades away to her reaction. No-one’s looking at you, they’re all looking to Roger, because it’s an implicit confirmation of the hoards of rumours Dominique’s been trying to live in denial regarding.

“Watch it,” Roger warns his bandmate, and Dominique looks pissed, but for the barest moment, she casts her gaze over her shoulder, to you, and you can read the heartbreak in her eyes.

You wish you’d told her to run years ago after all.

You wish you’d never believed that Roger had changed.

You wish you’d told her not to go through with the wedding.

You wish a lot of things in that moment.

But there’s no time, and she’s gone with Roger, both of them furious for different reasons, while your heart lays beating in the seat she’d just left. Looking around, your head is full of a fog in the wake of Freddie’s words, and their departure, and it’s like no-one else can see that your whole world has gone to Hell.

“I need to stay with you,” Dominique calls you the next day, sniffling, and you’re agreeing readily, asking if she needs a lift over.

She brings a suitcase, and a tearful apology for barging in like this. You wrap her up in a hug, telling her not to worry, that it’s not a bother and she bursts into tears. You order food and wrap her up in a blanket, and stay by her side until she falls asleep against your shoulder. You carry her into bed, tuck her in, and then grab your jacket and go out.

“I should kick your ass,” you snarl after Roger finally lets you in where you’d been kicking at his front door. He looks disheveled, but not like he’d been sleeping, like he’d been crying.

“Are you here for the rest of her things?” He asks flatly, and you do actually shove him, hard enough that he hits the ground and slides against the tiles.

“You stupid, insensitive fucking asshole!” You yell, fuming, “get up, Roger, get up!” You demand, and he does, slowly.

“I’m not going to fight you; you won, okay? She hates me -”

“And she has every right to, don’t play the fucking victim here, don’t try and act like you weren’t the one to sleep your way across the world while you knew she was waiting for you!” Your lip trembled at the thought of all the late nights you’d spent comforting her, reassuring her that it was just the tabloids taking things out of context, “she loved you so fucking much, you stupid fucking slut!” He laughed humorlessly at that, sitting back down on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest.

“We haven’t loved each other for a long time now.”

“That’s not true.”

“She loves you.”

“That’s not true.” There’s a wobble to your voice, your fraught emotions turning quickly to desperation.

“I know you slept together,” he says, finally looking at you, and your mouth snaps shut. He doesn’t seem mad, he doesn’t seem... anything. It’s just a fact, no malice behind it. “She told me the day after it happened,” he paused, “and I told her it was okay, told her I did similar stuff in my youth, but if we loved each other, we’d have to be better people, for each other.”

“And she loved you,” you said with dawning despair, realising what he was implying. He nods, gaze drifting, as if not quite registering everything that was happening, “but you...”

“By my own logic, I was already falling out of love; I was a hypocrite. I am a hypocrite.”

“You’re self aware,” you said, sitting down as the fight left you.

“Not really, she yelled it a good deal at me yesterday. She’s right, though.” He takes a deep breath, resting his chin on his knees as he stares at the other wall. “We used to be friends,” he muses and you hum in response, “we used to be a lot of things; young, broke, nobodies, friends.” He lists, and you agree quietly, “I think I knew you would be better for her, even from the start.”

“You knew I loved her from the start?” You ask, not even trying to deny it, and Roger looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not blind,” he tells you with surprising bitterness, and you clam up at that, “but she loves you because you’re still here, even though she loved me too.”

“Because I’m an idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“Probably,” he agrees, and when you make an indignant noise, he gives a flat look, “you didn’t talk her out of marrying me even though you’re in love with her.” He reminds.

“I never want to be the cause of her unhappiness,” you explain softly, mirroring his sitting position, your chin on your knees. Roger nods, “but you hurt her, and I came here to kick your ass.”

“Will you love her like she deserves?” He asks softly.

“If she wants to come back to you, I won’t stop her.”

“You love her better than I ever could,” Roger says with realisation. You’re not going to disagree with him.

When you get home, she’s still asleep in your bed, and you curl up on the sofa, restless all through the night. Dominique wakes in the morning, and comes out, sees your eyes open, rough from sleeplessness, and tears well in her own as all the memories from yesterday come flooding back.

“Do you want breakfast?” You ask, voice rough, and she nods. You stand, and head to the kitchen, moving automatically around the little space. She watches, quiet eyes, unsmiling, contemplative, but she’s not crying.

“What do you want to do today?” You hear yourself asking, voice carefully neutral.

“Do you... do you still love me?”

You freeze. It takes a moment, but you finally look at her, expression blank.

“I don’t think this is the time-”

“You’re always telling me to do what makes me happy, asking me what I want, what do you want?”

“I want you to be happy,” you tell her softly; her eyes are getting misty, but she’s still not satisfied with that answer.

“I want you to think about yourself for once; what do you want?”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to organise your thoughts.

“I want to be able to tell you I love you, and not have you hesitate to say it back -” you admit, but she cuts you off, words quick.

“I love you.”

“I -”

“I love you.”

“Dominique -”

“I love you, and I have for years. I love you.”

“Then why did you marry Roger?!” You finally explode, and her eyes go wide, before he gaze drops to the counter with shame.

“Because I thought it was what I was meant to do; I cared about him a great deal, but we- we weren’t meant for each other. I don’t love him like I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.”

“I don’t want you to be saying this just because you just broke up with him and you’re looking for a rebound or a safety net,” you admit, and she looks at you with a calculating gaze, understanding your hesitation, “I do love you, Dom, and you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, but I don’t want to be with you until you’ve had time to process everything that’s happening. You need time. You’re not in your right mind.”

Dominique swallows hard, nodding very seriously. Her gaze is intense as she watches you get back to making breakfast. Silence hangs in the air, strange, undefinable silence laced with emotions like static electricity.

“Can I kiss you? Just once?” She asks, and you look at her over your shoulder, spatula in one hand, a warning in your voice when you say her name, “just once.” She promises, eyes wide and the barest of smiles on her lips. You could never say no to that smile. You turn down the stove for just a moment, and step up to the counter, leaning over it to meet her.

Kissing her feels like coming home and freedom at the same time, and she’s warm when she brings her hand up to your cheek, humming with tentative joy against your lips. When you pull back, you let yourself linger, just inches from her, getting lost in her eyes, in her smile for the barest moment.

“Would you like me to make tea?” She asks, soft, grinning.

“Would love that,” you agree, a little breathless, stepping back to the stove.

“I don’t...” she paused by the refrigerator, “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to make sense of this, my whole life, I...”

“That’s why we’re waiting; if I’m not what you want, if you go a different direction, if you just wanna be single for a few years and end up meeting someone else, I’ll respect that,” you assure her, “but if I am what you want, Dom I’d wait forever for you.”

#dominique beyrand #roger taylor #dominique beyrand x reader #dominique beyrand imagine #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #queen imagine #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction #the angry lizard writes

32 notes · View notes

originofjaehyun · 4 years

Text

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 9 | Love Song

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 3,900

Warnings: Angst, language

Part 9 | Love Song

“My steps keep slowing down, I can’t stop, I can’t stop this feeling.”

Prev • Next

You thought you were going to spend only the first night at Doyoung’s, but he insisted you to stay.

“It’s not like I’m lusting over you or I want you to stay with me forever.”

“Doyoung that’s disgusting.”

“Exactly, but now that I know how powerful his family is, I’m not going to let you stay on your own. Jaehyun knows your place, and with his connection, he probably already know mine.”

“Jaehyun won’t do anything that would harm me.”

“Look, I know you love him and I’m sorry for judging him that way but it’s better to be safe than sorry, [Y/N]. At least you’re with me, and I can feel a bit more relaxed.”

You couldn’t argue with him. Who knows, his father might already ask his man to follow you around. Also, you agree with Doyoung about the fact that Jaehyun knows your place. It would probably be best to talk things through, as what you always do with him, but your heart is incapable of even meeting him after the heartbreak. It’s already hard enough for you to leave him behind without any explanation, and it’s going to be even harder if he confronts you.

“Stay for at least a week. Or would you rather hear live porn from Hanbyul and Mingyu’s room?”

“Dude, gross! They’re your friends for fuck’s sake.”

Doyoung laughed, “See, it’s better if you stay with me.”

“Just promise me you won’t bring anyone while I’m here.”

“Never thought you were the jealous type.”

“I don’t have a fetish of hearing other people fucking each other, Doyoung.”

He snorted, “You know I’m not seeing someone. Now clean up before we go to the supermarket to buy your essentials.”

That is how you ended up moving temporarily to Doyoung’s apartment. Although Doyoung said it will be OK if you become his housemate, you don’t want to keep bothering him, knowing that he’s still single. You don’t want to be the other woman when Doyoung finally found his significant other. While you still have to pay your apartment’s rent, you were thinking of paying your stay, which he rejected instantly.

“[Y/N], we’ve been best friends for years. I’m more than capable of paying this apartment all by myself. Don’t worry about it.”

“But the utility bill is going to be doubled, Doy. At least let me pay that much.”

He shook his head, “Just treat me for dinners and drinks occasionally. That’s the only payment I accept.”

You finally gave up. Doyoung is a stubborn man, once he made up his mind, it will be a miracle to ever change his decision.

“Take a week leave first, [Y/N].”

“A week?! I thought you know how busy I am?”

“Look at yourself. Do you think you can concentrate on your work?”

Thank God it was Sunday. You spent all night crying. Doyoung opened his bottle of Soju, and the alcohol helped you to be less tense. You told him everything, how heartbreaking it was to see Jaehyun’s face. The disappointments. How his face was painted in sadness when you left him, and how it was equally painful for you.

You really do love Jaehyun, and you would probably always will.

But the fear took the best of you. Who would’ve thought your significant other is involved in a world that you could never imagine was real. Of course, you saw articles and news about illegal transactions, but not in a million years did you think it would be that close to you.

Doyoung is right. You look horrendous. Eyes are swollen due to crying, and the darkness that surrounds them, mimicking a raccoon. You’re tired, and it would probably take you a while before you could put yourself together.

“I hope Joy won’t be pissed off when her boss suddenly took a week’s leave.”

–

The first week was like hell.

While Doyoung has been the greatest best friend ever by taking you to dinner –and you finally met Yuta in the process, and he is the sweetest guy with the brightest smile– you haven’t got any proper sleep.

Jaehyun is constantly in your mind, and you always find yourself sobbing at night when you remember him. It’s even harder to fall asleep when your dream is always about him. About how both of you planned for a happily ever after, only for the dream to get dark and cloudy midway. His father would come into the picture, and point his gun at you. When you thought the bullet would hit you, Jaehyun jumped and took it for you.

This always wakes you up, hyperventilated.

“Hey,”

You flinched, didn’t expect Doyoung to come without knocking. Not that he has to, this is his house anyway and you don’t mind him at all.

“Sorry, I heard you were grunting.”

“You weren’t sleeping?” Your voice was cracking, due to the fact you were just awake a few seconds ago.

“No, I just finished binge-watching Succession.” He said while he approached you, and saw the tears that are apparent at the corner of your eyes. “Another nightmare?”

You slowly nod, “It’s getting worse, Doy. Every night the dream seems to be more vivid.”

Your best friend gave you a deep meaningful look, genuinely concerned. “It’s just a dream, [Y/N]. Everything’s gonna be alright. You have me, and Hanbyul, too. I think Yuta has a thing for you too.”

“Oh come on Kim Doyoung, I just broke up with my boyfriend a week ago.” You jokingly punched him in his arm, replacing the grim atmosphere with chuckles.

“There you go, don’t be all somber and mushy, that’s not the [Y/N] I know. You became so gloomy I got shivers, you know? The last time you were this emo was when you were so in love with Alex Turner from Arctic Monkeys.”

“That was a long time ago, OK!”

All the sorrow seems to melt away like snow in spring, relieving you from all the distress inside your brain. You felt grateful for the presence of your best friend, hopeful that better days will come.

That the situation would turn around somehow.

“Thanks, Doy, for being here even at my lowest.”

“Ew, since when are you this sweet?”

“Dude, I’m serious. I really mean it.”

You look at him, hoping that he can see how sincere you are.

“Please, this is nothing, [Y/N]. I know if I were in your position –and dear Lord please don’t ever let me be in your position,”

You throw your pillow at him, finally annoyed with his never-ending jokes. He chortled before he continued, “That you’ll do the same for me. Don’t think too much about it, yeah?”

“Tomorrow is your first day of work. Make sure you rest well, I’m positive you don’t want the whole office to know that you just had a major heartbreak. Go get some sleep.”

You bob your head, agreeing. He was ready to leave your room before you realized something.

“Shit, I forgot.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow is the first Monday of the month, right?”

He nods.

“That means I have to go to NCT’s office.”

As surprised as you are, Doyoung’s eyes grow bigger, “Any chances that you can send someone else?”

“No,” You shook your head, following it by biting your nails. “I’m the PIC for this, and we’re finalizing a few important things so I have to go there myself.”

“Now, now,” Doyoung returned to where he was, sitting down next to your bed. “You are the toughest working woman I ever met in my life, OK? Remember when you used to whine because of the newbie from your office nagged non-stop about the workload? A friendly reminder, you told me that she should expect at least that much if she’s going to work at any company. What did she expect, coming to work, and having a girl talk?”

You chuckled, his remarks help to calm your anxiety.

“So yeah, you’re going to be fine even if you have to face him tomorrow. You’re meeting Johnny anyway, what is the possibility you’re going to meet him? He’s a busy man after all.”

Knowing that Jaehyun is a COO, not to mention he has his personal business, he must’ve been drowning with work, making you agree with Doyoung’s statement in a heartbeat. Your meeting wouldn’t take the whole day, so if you can wrap them quickly then you could probably avoid meeting Jaehyun.

“You’re right. Thanks, Doy.”

He lets out his gum smile, “Stop thanking me! You’re starting to freak me out!”

–

“Can I light another one?”

You politely asked Johnny whether he still got leeway for the meeting. All that left is to finalize the few details. Yet the nicotine urge seems to be a bit stronger today, as you feel like you are in need to exhale the anxiety away with another puff.

“Sure. Actually, I think I’ll smoke another one too. Too bad I can’t install a balcony at my office. If not we don’t have to go all the way here whenever we need to smoke.”

You smiled, as you ignited the cigarette that hung in between your lips. You stare at the grey smoke blankly, watching it as it fades in the air.

“Hey, uhm,”

Johnny called you, pulling you back to reality.

“I heard it from Jaehyun.”

You almost choked, and you stared at him widely.

“I’m so sorry it happened.”

“You knew about it, Johnny?”

He nervously nods, to which you reply with a sigh, rolling your tongue over your teeth, pissed.

“God, does everyone think I’m a joke.”

“[Y/N], please, it’s not that.” He begged, scared that he might offended you. “Honestly I asked Jaehyun a couple of times already to tell you about this. But he said the timing was not right.”

“And the right timing happens to be when I managed to find it out myself?”

Johnny squinted his eyes, frustrated, “No, believe me he didn’t mean it that way. I mean, now you know how difficult his situation is.”

The dull orange at the tip of your cigarette glows as you took another drag, “Yeah, and that is the exact reason why I left.”

“You’re stronger than that, [Y/N]. I wouldn’t keep pushing Jaehyun to pursue you if you weren’t. And he loves you for that.”

“As I do, Johnny. In fact, that is the exact reason why I have to leave.”

Johnny slowly blows out a smoke out of his mouth, looking at you confused.

“I’d rather not be the extra luggage he has to carry, John. He already has so much weight on his shoulder.”

“He wouldn’t think of you as an extra luggage, [Y/N]. You know that.”

“Jaehyun would protect me, without a doubt. He’s more than capable of doing so.”

You blows out your smoke, “But do you think he would be able to stand it if I told him that I’m scared on a daily basis? I’m not going to act like a hypocrite and tell him that I’ll be fine –because I would definitely not. It scares me Johnny, his life is. And there’s no way I would lie to Jaehyun about it.”

The look on Johnny’s eyes that were deep sienna in color marking that he could not debate with your sentences.

“Imagine if I were a part of his life, Johnny. I would constantly tell him that I’m afraid. That fear consumes me, every day. No matter how strong, how reliable he is, eventually he would break and that is the least that I would want. For my loved ones to crumble.”

Though he didn’t say a single word, you appreciate how Johnny attentively listens to you, nodding whenever you reach the full stop.

“Before it happens, I think it's best for me to leave. It is equally as painful for me, Johnny. But do I have another choice?”

Johnny refused to give you a response. He was looking down, biting his lower lip while he’s lost in his thoughts.

“You’re right,” He inhaled the final bit of his cigarette. “I mean, I’m not a part of your relationship so I guess you do know what’s best. But I’m just wishing for my friends’ happiness.”

I would love that, too.

You quietly thought inside your head, extinguishing the white stick that finally reached its end.

“And that includes you, too, [Y/N]. I might be your client at first but I think we’re close enough for me to consider you as my friend. If there's anything that I can do to make this whole breakup process more bearable, I’m just a text away, OK?”

His statement made you smile involuntarily.

“Though, I hope Jaehyun wouldn’t know. He might think that I have another agenda on you.”

The laugh finally thawed the tension away. You’re grateful that you’re surrounded with great people. Even in this situation, Johnny still tries to brighten your day, like a happy vitamin. He smoothly changed the topic on your way to his office, filling the journey with laughter.

That laughter stops once you reach his office.

The tall, pale figure that is dear to you stands up at the sight of you. He looks exhausted, and his beautiful pair of eyes no longer shine as it is now dark and hollow.

“Johnny what is the meaning of this?”

“[Y/N] please, it’s not his fault. I asked him to spare some time so I can talk to you.”

You look at him, before you shift your gaze to Johnny’s. There’s a hint of guilt from his stare, but you can tell it was mostly filled with concerns. “I’m sorry, [Y/N], I’ve promised to Jaehyun. And if I can give my two-cents, I still think it would be better if you guys talk things through.”

You slowly blink as you quietly exhale. You are in your client’s office, and you don’t want to start bawling and appear unprofessional.

Before you can even let a single word out, suddenly someone barged in, clearly adding more tension to the room.

“Sir.” You can tell Johnny is equally unprepared with his guest.

“Father, what are you doing here?”

“Is it that absurd for a father to seek his son?”

Johnny took a glance at Donghyuck’s direction, telepathically asking him why he didn’t tell him that the founder is coming. Donghyuck just answers him with a ‘how am I supposed to act when he’s also come unnoticed?’ gesture.

While Jaehyun is pissed because his no good of a father interrupts his attempt to talk to you, he calmly asks his father. “Is there a problem, Father?”

“Oh, no, Jaehyun. You’re doing marvelous, as always.” He said, while taking a glimpse at you. “I checked your schedule and this is the only time you’re free. I asked your assistant, Jungwoo, if you’re in your office and he said I could find you at Johnny’s.”

Yeah, because I have something else to take care of.

If only his father could read and understand his mind, he wouldn’t have to act all goody two-shoes to his father. The least that Jaehyun would want is to show his family issues at the office. Knowing how his reputation means everything to his father, you know he would want the same.

“Then why is she here?”

Jaehyun asked about the female that has been standing behind his father. Someone that you never met before. She was dressed to nines, wrapping herself in Fendi’s monogram from head to toe. Her hair was strawberry blonde, flowing softly to cover her breast. Her lips were plump, but you can tell it’s artificial.

“Surely you know Kyungmi from…”

“From Hyun Ventures, yes.”

At this point you shouldn’t act like you’re surprised that Jaehyun is surrounded by big shots. Although the size of the company is not as big as NCT Corp., Hyun Ventures still managed to become the only three venture capitals originated from South Korea that made it to the top 100 venture capitalists.

“I see that you are acquaintanced.” His father says with a pleased tone. “Jaehyun, I’d like you to meet your future wife.”

His statement made you feel like the ground underneath you disappear, sinking your heart. You haven’t even recovered fully from your heartbreak, and this big of a news just added the fuel to the fire.

You don’t even care if you are considered rude, but you quickly texted Doyoung, asking him to come and pick you up as soon as possible, no longer could breath in this vexing room.

“Nice to officially meet you Jaehyun.” The woman spoke, and her voice was piercing the air. “Oh gosh, can we drop the formality? I’ve been waiting for ages to finally talk to you! Your father told me splendid things about you, like how you act like him, being the gentleman you are!”

While she was all giddy, you couldn’t help but to feel uncomfortable. You were about to pull her after-salon hair, for taking something that is yours.

Then it strikes you that he was yours, and you no longer had the right to be territorial.

Johnny noticed how uneasy you are, and he put his hand on your back, trying to ease you. It works, in a sense, with the fact that Johnny is there to support you. However, you felt like Jaehyun would need that more, seeing how tense his jaw is.

“I didn’t hear anything about this, Father. Since when do I have to wed someone?” There are trails of annoyance in Jaehyun’s tone, and he’s not making the effort to conceal it.

“Jaehyun,” his father retaliates, voice is as cold as ice, “It is important for us to keep our relation to the Hyuns. Kyungmi is a wonderful girl. She’s well educated, takes good care of herself, and most importantly she came from a great family.”

You know his father just sarcastically said that to you. Fumes are almost apparent from Jaehyun’s head. He is ready to throw his fist to his father. He can take all the mockery, but he would not tolerate it if it is targeted towards you.

“Now,” His father cuts off, before Jaehyun is able to react. “Kyungmi, my dear, let’s have a tour at the building, shall we? Today I’ll cover the important places. After all, this will soon be yours.”

It was a cringey affection, but at least he didn’t try to cut her throat like what he did to you. Soon after, both of them left, followed by Donghyuck who guided them outside out of politeness and honestly, he’d rather escape the room that is filled with suspense.

“Johnny, can we continue our meeting via email? Or let’s postpone it to another time.”

You were choking, on the verge of tears, and unmistakably pissed. Johnny, unable to force you to stay, had no choice but agree. You rushed to pack your belongings, before Jaehyun stopped you from going.

The familiar touch.

“Let me go, Jaehyun.”

“That’s all you’ve been saying since last week, and you know I can’t.”

“You’re making it difficult for me. Please let me go.”

Your words are firm, though your tone was brittle.

“I’m making things difficult? [Y/N], you have no idea how hard it is for me spending a week without you.”

Like a volcano that’s about to erupt, all of the build up tensions in you finally explodes.

“Don’t make it as if it’s not difficult for me, Jae!” Blood rushing to your head, making your neck noticeably red. “Your father just fucking humiliates me in front of you, and that God damn future wife of yours! I bet he knows that we broke up, and that is why he purposely announce your fucking engagement right here right now to mock me!”

He never saw you snapping at him like that. He’s even more baffled when he notices the tears that start to well in your eyes.

“Please don’t cry, love.”

He leans forward to caress your cheek, which you roughly reject.

“Drop the nicknames, Jae. Save it for someone who’s more worthy of standing by your side.”

“Baby, please.” Jaehyun begs, refusing to let you go. “You know you’re the only one for me. I’ve told you millions of times and I’m ready to tell you again if I have to. You’re overlapping inside me, it’s like in my heart you’re just like a moist rain that infused me.”

You can feel the ache in your heart, and it stings. It stings because you know he meant every of his words. It stings, because you know even though the feeling is mutual, you’d wish time had better timing for you and Jaehyun.

You finally look him in the eyes, his eyes are weepy, telling you that he hopes he can change your mind.

“And leave all of these behind? All of these glory?”

You are spoken in riddles, but you know your souls speak fluently. He hesitates, and that’s enough to answer your question.

“See? You can’t, Jae. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but it would be easier if I leave.”

You were about to walk away but he tugs you back, not giving up. “[Y/N], it’s not because of the glory, or the money. I can live without either, honestly, if that could make you stay. But there’s something that I can’t let go of, not yet.”

You are confused, even with all of those layers there are still a part of Jaehyun that you didn’t know.

“Then let me go.”

“I can’t do that, either.”

“Jaehyun, stop being so stubborn!”

“I am only stubborn when it comes to you, [Y/N].”

“And yet you can’t let go of whatever that shit is.”

You brushed him off, rushing your way to the elevator. There are a few pairs of eyes who looked at you, wondering why you ran out like someone’s about to chase your life, but you couldn’t care less.

Johnny must’ve held Jaehyun off, because he didn’t run after you immediately. You could hear him stopping him, but you were so busy running off that you didn’t pay enough attention. All you hear was Johnny telling Jaehyun not to make a scene.

You reached the lobby, and miraculously saw Doyoung’s car already stationed at the lobby. Sure, his office is only a few blocks away, but that was fast.

The tinted window from the passenger seat rolls down, and you are surprised that the driver was not your best friend.

“Yuta? What are you doing here?”

“Doyoung’s busy. We had our quarterly meeting and I was staying at his office because I’m actually not on the clock today. He told me to pick you up, he said it was urgent. Are you OK?”

“[Y/N]!”

He shouted from afar, and you don’t need to turn your back to know who’s the owner of the voice.

“Let’s go, Yuta.” You hastily enter the car, ignoring Jaehyun who sprinted to stop you.

“Are you sure? He seems like he got something to tell you.”

“Yuta, please, just drive.”

Fears that he might poke into something that is not his business, he reluctantly agrees, closing the window and just enough for Jaehyun to take a peek.

A peek of you with a man that he doesn't know, drifting away.

A/N: dun dun dun dunnn... Also, can you believe we’re only 3 chapters left?! :’’ all I can say is... it’s going to be a roller coaster ride (at least that’s how I felt when I wrote it haha)

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyunxreader #jaehyun fic #neowritingsnet #mafia!au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #fic jaehyun #angst jaehyun #interlude no more drama #nct scenario #inmd #love song

87 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Love, Maybe? {42}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 42: Down With The Ship

-Vixen-

Thanks to how close opening night was you were busier than ever making sure things were perfect. You checked, double-checked and even triple checked everything, décor, menu, staff, vendors, setting, everything. You left nothing untouched by your meticulous eye and obsessive-compulsive attention. This meant you ate, slept and breathed your restaurant. You were up before sunrise out after breakfast with Ella, gone all day and not back until just before midnight. It was exhausting and you missed spending time with Ella but you were grateful for the distraction.

Before you knew it two weeks had passed since your life imploded. Two weeks since the story of the decade broke. For those two weeks, you were hounded by paparazzi almost everywhere. You were now on their radar and they were learning your moves. You had to be extra careful not to lead them back home to Ella. When Ella went anywhere it was usually with Nexus who was more than happy to play mom. She said it was great practice which made you think that things with Anthony were getting even more serious.

For the two weeks Chris called, but you ignored every one of them. What began as four or five calls a day dwindled to two then one. You still didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. You had way too much going on and you didn’t want to add to your plate. You took a meeting with Charmaine St. John to hear all she had to say then abruptly told her you didn’t want anything from him when she eluded you could get a “nice cut.”

She looked shocked at that. Then when you went on to say you weren’t going to proceed with taking half of everything she almost fell out of her seat. It was clear she was used to dealing with jilted Hollywood wives who felt entitled no matter what and wanted to go down fighting. That wasn’t you. You just wanted peace and quiet. She prepared the paperwork and faxed it to you. It was paperwork you still held on to.

Ella’s inquiries about Chris increased. What was once or twice a day turned into three or four or even five. The numerous facetime calls you’d orchestrated between Ella and Chris didn’t even seem to have mattered. Every time Nex told you it broke you. This was the reason you were apprehensive to involve him in the first place; this was why you worked as hard as you did to keep everything strictly platonic and complication free. For all the work you attempted you’d ended up right where you didn’t want to be.

You heard the bell chime from your phone and checked it to find an email from Kassius. He’d sent the contract proposal from Food Network a few days ago for you to review and go over with your lawyer. When you did it was revealed that they were being very generous, more generous than you suspected they had been to other no-name chefs.

According to Charmaine, they were offering an eighteen months contract for production of a cooking show with a twist that was creatively left up to you. Within the eighteen-month period, there were to be four episodes filmed a month, with smaller recordings they hoped to push for YouTube, and an extension review to be done at the end of the contract period. When it came down to money you were shocked by how many figures you saw. Charmaine told you it was very generous, but you should definitely leap on it.

You were apprehensive because it was rare for them to offer this kind of money to some no-name chef. You suspected and worried that they were showing the “kindness” of their hearts because of everything that was going on and your newly ousted status as Chris Evans’ wife and baby mama. You suspected they wanted to capitalize on it, either way, it was a win/win for them.

“What’s got you so far away?” Your mother approached and sat across from you. You sighed and shook your head.

“Remember that deal with Food Network?”

“Yes, we are all still incredibly proud of you, honey. My god, all your years of work, sleepless nights. I know it has been hard, harder than you let on and I am over the moon for your successes.” You felt the prick of tears. You knew she loved you, you knew she always had your best interest at heart, but this was so nice to hear her praise you rather than berate you for not having a boyfriend let alone a husband.

“Thanks, mom.” Her smile was warm, as was her hand that rested atop yours.

“The contract they sent over is—impressive. There is trying to woo someone to join you and then there is going all out. This is all out,” you explained.

“That’s good, right? So, what’s wrong?”

“I feel like it’s because I’m now linked to him. I feel like they’re willing to offer these things, this amount of money not because I’m me but because I’m close to him.”

“I’m going to stop you right there Vixen. You are my daughter, you are smart, talented, willful, ambitious, strong and such a force to be reckoned with. You know everything and if you don’t you fake it till you make it. You have no idea how talented you really are. I do not doubt for a second that the reason you are seeing the fruits of your tireless labor now is because of that talent, ambition and grueling desire to make an amazing life for your family and Ella.” Your tears rolled down your face of their own accord.

“Vixen, you are a star, that is the reason why your father and I gave you that name. Vixen to the American definition is fierce, fiery-tempered, and it was true. You cried twenty times louder and longer than any of the other babies, you were stubborn, quick to anger, and that temper ooh, it was hot but were you adorable.” She smiled bright which prompted your smile. You sniffled and dried your tears but they kept flowing.

“Vixen also means female fox. You know I believe in every culture and take pieces where I feel a connection. Guess you can call it my way of keeping in touch with my gypsy spirit, something I think you inherited more so than Nexus. This beautiful free spirit that loathes being tied down, loathes being boxed in and caged like a gilded bird. You want to be free, so you keep running for that freedom. In Japanese culture, there is a creature called Kitsune, a powerful mythical creature with an abundance of intelligence and power. Their energy is bright, hence your middle name. Your name is no coincidence honey, it was destined for you. It is your time. You are here because of you and you alone. Reap those rewards unabashedly,” she finished.

You could hear the conviction in her voice and see the pride coming off of her. It struck you. Nodding your head, you wiped your face and allowed her words to sink it.

“It is your time.”

You signed the contract and faxed it back to Kassius. You were filled with a mix of excitement, happiness, and sadness. You wanted to call him and tell him the good news, tell him about this exciting new thing in your life but you couldn’t. You also wanted to feel the happiness the event deserved but again, you couldn’t, not completely.

-Chris-

“I cannot believe you would do this! I cannot believe you’d do something so stupid. On the list of stupid things you’ve done which is quite long, this is the stupidest.”

He sighed and rubbed his face. He was tired of being reprimanded. This was round three with them and by them, he meant all of them. He was now sitting in his office in front of one of the biggest group video calls he’d done. On the screen was his mom, his sisters their significant others, his brother and his partner. It was a full house. He’d sat here for the last forty minutes as they each took a turn telling him what an idiot he was. He listened to it from every point of view, and no matter how he cut it he still felt like a dick.

“Okay enough! Jesus Christ, I get it I screwed this up,” he shouted.

“Baby brother, you did more than screwed it up. Ya’ fucked it up!”

Everyone began talking over each other and none of it sounded any different than when they’d started.

“Fa’ the love of God!” His shout was loud, and it echoed throughout the first floor of his home. It was loud enough for them to shut their mouths and hear his accent pop through. No one spoke for several long moments.

“Look, I know what I did was wrong. I know I messed up. I know I should have done things differently. I have gone around it time and time again, I wish I could change what I did, go back and handle it differently. I’m sorry.”

They still didn’t speak.

“Chris. Getting past the fact that you lied to us about marrying her and then continued to lie when you realized you were still married. We all can see you’re in love with her, I don’t know how she hasn’t seen it,” Shana stated.

He didn’t know it was that obvious. Thinking further, he’d practically told you how he felt, he just hadn’t said the words. You had to know.

“You have to tell her how you actually feel Chris. I get it you’re scared and everything that comes along with it. I get it. At some point though in order to get what you want you have to go after it—or her.”

He sighed. Somehow this had turned from a berating session to a counseling session.

“Look, I know you all mean well, but—she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you ya’ idiot. She’s hurt,” Carly informed in an annoyed tone. She then shook her head. “Chris you lied to her and honestly it is just the same as the lie she told. Neither of you are in the right. I get why she lied but you, I don’t get it. You lied to her and she feels stupid, she feels as if maybe you had an agenda. Like maybe you manipulated her and anything that was between you wasn’t real that it was just some figment of the situation that you ensured with your lie,” Carly finished.

“I had no agenda. All I wanted was a little time to show her what could be there, here between us.”

“You should have told her and gave her the choice. You took her choice away Chris. I get that rights and choices are huge with her especially seeing how independent she has been her entire life,” his mother simplified.

He sighed and nodded. She was right. He took your choice just as you’d taken his. Everything he’d felt in the first initial days since you’d told him about Ella you were now feeling. He didn’t think about it in that light.

“You have to be the one to fix this,” Shanna added.

“I don’t think I can. She said that they were better off without me.”

Scott made a “yikes” face, as did the rest of his siblings.

“Well, you kinda deserve that one. Have you seen what the press are doing to her? Her entire life is plastered everywhere. Not even just her, but Ella’s too. She didn’t ask for this and certainly wasn’t prepared. Her privacy is gone. This blindsided her,” Shanna’s boyfriend enlightened. It was insight from someone like you, normal, away from the eye of the press.

“Regardless if she wants you or not, or if you think she wants you or not you have to make this right. You have to stop using that as a crutch. You have to take a chance, Chris. Don’t she and Ella deserve it?”

There was the cincher, he thought. He was so used to getting what he wanted with little effort and work. He was now face to face with what he had to do, he had to put in the right kind of work.

-Vixen-

“Very good Ella, I’m so proud of you. You read that so well.”

She smiled widely and clapped her hands excitedly. You ruffled her soft curls then kissed her forehead.

“Mama, I sweepy.”

“Okay, let’s get the little princess to bed.” You stood, lifted her and carried her to her bedroom while softly singing her favorite lullaby.

“Smile, though your heart is aching, smile even though it’s breaking. When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by. If you smile through your fears and sorrow. Smile and maybe tomorrow, you’ll see the sun come shining through. If you just smile.”

By the time you made it to her bedroom, she was half asleep. You tucked her in and finished the lullaby while tracing gentle patterns on her scalp. It always did the trick and within a few minutes she was out like a light. You sat there for a few minutes more and just watched her sleep. When you felt like your tears would start you hopped in the shower and allowed it to clam your mind.

You still had some work to do so you wrapped in your robe after your post-shower ritual and went down to your office and got lost in work. You didn’t know how long you were in there sipping wine and working but when you looked up you heard muffled voices. You stood and slowly walked down the hall. As you got closer you could make out whose voices you were hearing; your mother, Nexus and Chris.

“I’m very sorry Mrs. Giovanni. There are no words or excuses I can give, and I am ashamed of my actions. I can assure you what I did was not an act of maliciousness or manipulation. I hope with time I can show you how sorry I am and earn your forgiveness,” he said.

For a few seconds, there were no words, and you were sure that they’d fallen for it. How could they not? He was respectful, sounded sincere, charming and was laying it on thick as fuck. Then your mother spoke.

“Chris, when I first met you I saw the kind of man you were through your eyes. I know you’re a good man, with good intentions. I know you love Ella and would do anything for her and Vixen. I have no doubt that this wasn’t malicious and I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

“That doesn’t change that there was harm done, a lot of harm,” Nexus added. You slyly peeped around the corner and saw Nexus leaning on the wall with her arms crossed before her, she was the furthest from him. she was not happy. your mother, on the other hand, looked neutral.

“You’re right I did cause harm.”

“Chris, I know that you know what you did. I just don’t know why you did it. I don’t get it and you know what I don’t know if I want to get it. I believed in you, I was rooting for you and I kind of feel responsible for the pain my sister is in. She didn’t deserve to find any of this out through a tabloid show,” Nexus shouted with as low of a whisper as she could manage. You could tell she was angry.

“You’re right, she didn’t deserve this, any of it. I’m sorry. I just—I want a chance to explain to her. I need to say some things to her.”

You’d heard enough. Coming around the corner your mother was the first to see you.

“Get out. There is nothing here for you,” you blurted out and you hoped you sounded believable.

“Vixen, stop it,” your mother interrupted coming up to you. “The least you can do is hear him out.” Your jaw dropped.

“The least? Excuse me?”

“Vixen, this isn’t something that happened to you. You were at the altar with him, you married him the same way he married you. Yes, he wasn’t forthcoming about the status of that marriage, but your life isn’t about you anymore. You have a daughter, a little girl who will be affected by this. She is already affected. She asks for him. She deserves the two of you to get it together.”

You were speechless. You had no idea she had it in her to be so bold about this. You also hated that she was right. Ella did deserve normalcy. Sighing you cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Nexus approached you giving you an inquisitive look. You nodded assuring her you knew what you were doing although you had no idea what you were doing. “Okay. Just holler if you need me.” She gave you a quick hug and walked away with your mother trailing behind you.

You didn’t look at him, instead, you walked away to the kitchen. You could feel him following you. Once you walked in you made a beeline for the freezer and took out the tequila bottle then filled a glass. You could feel his eyes on you, he didn’t speak, and you were quickly getting annoyed.

“You better start because I didn’t fuck up.”

“You’re right, I fucked up,” Chris admitted.

“No shit! You lied to me, Chris. For weeks. You orchestrated everything on the basis of that lie.”

He rounded the island attempting to get closer. You evaded him and walked around to the opposite side. He stopped and raised his hands in the air. “That’s not true. Not entirely. When Sherman told me about the error and that we were still married I didn’t know what to think or do. I didn't know how to tell you. I was scared to tell you. I thought you'd insist we file and end things.”

Pulling the glass from your lips you gulped down the liquid more quickly than you should have and felt the intensified burn. “So what! That is a stupid reason, Chris. That doesn’t matter,” you lashed out.

“Of course it matters. I didn't want to lose you again!”

The admission had you frozen just staring at him across the island. The words were pretty, but they were said to cover an ugly lie. You closed your eyes and refilled your glass and took another out to fill it. You then slide it across the island to him. There were almost two full minutes of silence. The two of you just sipped your drinks, well he sipped, you gulped. Then he spoke.

“I’d spent months, years regretting how everything went down three years ago. Spent so many nights sitting up with a glass like this one just watching the ghosts of memories all around me. I spent so much time wishing I'd done things differently, wishing things had ended up differently. Then out of nowhere there you were and the minute I saw you everything I felt three years ago came back, everything I'd been trying to bury for three years came right back.”

“None of this matters. You lied to me! You used this lie to your advantage. None of it was real. None of it was true.”

The words stung you even more. The realization that this was reality, that everything over the last few weeks wasn’t anything real. You felt the tears and you tried so hard to keep it in.

“That's a lie and you know it Vixen.”

He raised his voice at that point. Realizing his tone, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and slowly blew it out. You took another gulp.

“This is what I know.” Another swig of tequila burned your throat before you spoke.

“You said the worst shit to me three years ago, made me feel like a modern day prostitute, like I was only worth what was between my legs; like that was all I was good for. That fucked me up, it fucked with me for years. Had me second guessing my worth, my value to a man, to you. So I got the hell out of there. Did I regret it? Sometimes, but for the most part no. Then I found out about Ella and I could have told you, I could have tracked you down, but I didn't. I was scared I didn't want to let you anywhere near again so you’d hurt me all over again. Part of me did want to stick it to you for what you did. I can be honest here and now. Then three years later you show up and you're charming and kind and everything you were three years ago, everything that I--then you kiss me and bring me to that lake and we--then San Francisco. You had so many chances to tell me the truth. You didn't.”

“I should have. I tried to so many times. I tried the night you met my family, tried in the pool, tried the night in the backyard in Boston, I tried, and I did but you were asleep when I said it in San Francisco. Jesus Christ, I tried Vixen.”

“Not hard enough. What you wanted one more romp in the hay to see if it was like old times?”

Again, Chris walked around the island to you. You backed up to the oversized fridge holding your arms out trying to keep him at bay. He ignored your hands and still approached, closing in. Walking away you were hoping to create distance between you, but he followed you.

“What's not fair is you keeping this from me. Something that was important that mattered and I know I did the same thing so don’t pull that.

“I wanted time to show you how perfect we were for each other, for you to see that maybe things were the way they should have always been. God Vixen I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never felt the things I feel for you, I never thought I could, but I do.”

The tears were steadily approaching, your breakdown was coming. “You feel nothing it was an illusion; it was the sex.” You attempted to walk away again but Chris’ hand wrapped around your arm pulling you back to him.

“I've been in love with you from the night I married you. I didn’t know it then; I didn’t know it until I saw you again. When I looked in your eyes and had you in front of me I knew exactly how I felt and seeing you with Ella--our daughter only made me fall more in love with you. You are such an amazing mother, such a kind person with a good heart. You are so damn ambitious and determined. I love that about you, love how genuine you are and how you have an incredible work ethic one that shows the kind of person you are. This was never about sex for me Vixen. It started with Ella, but it didn’t take long for me to realize I didn't just want her, I wanted you. I want to build a life with you and Ella, be by your side as you shatter that glass ceiling you are so damn close to shattering. I want to be your biggest fan and supporter, I want to grow with you, build something others could only dream of. I want to see you every morning, go to sleep beside you after tucking Ella in, I want family vacations, princess dress-up parties, trips to the lake, birthday parties, a family, brothers, and sisters for Ella. I--I want you Vixen. I love you.”

Everything froze. He’d said the words. You thought you’d wanted to hear these words, thought if only he felt this way things would be so much easier. Now here they were. You thought you’d be happy or feel some sort of excitement but the only thing you felt was fear. You were filled with an abundance of fear, so much fear you couldn’t speak for several long moments. He stood there waiting for you to respond and each second that passed he looked as if he were unraveling.

“I want to love you, Vix. Let me.” His voice was pleading, as were his eyes, it was like he was begging you. When his lips dropped to yours the only thing your body did was kiss him back with as much passion and desire that he kissed you. He pulled you closer to him and the heat from his body had you pressing against him trying to savor it. A moan escaped you then one came from him. In a matter of seconds, the kiss was quickly getting out of hand. You were getting lost in the moment despite your common sense. You were the one to pull away.

“Until the day you wake up and want something else or don't want me anymore. The day you've finally gotten me out your system.” Your tears finally won as you expressed your deepest fear concerning him. Pressing your forehead to his chest you accepted defeat and cried allowing your fears and sorrow to seep out of every pore. You’d suppressed this cry because you feared you would never be able to stop.

Somehow, you found your voice for words. “Chris I barely put myself back together last time. I have no idea how I did it, no idea how my heart healed I--I can't.”

Somehow you got the words out through your tears. Somehow you were able to speak. You were scared to look at him, but you chanced it and immediately regretted it. Chris looked hurt. There was visible pain on his face and shining through his eyes. That only made you cry more. You put your forehead onto his chest again and breathed him in. When you felt his forehead on the top of your head you sobbed.

“Right.”

“I swear I won’t stand in the way of you getting to be there for Ella. I promise I won’t be that woman. We will work something out that you can see her when you want. I just--.” Unable to finish you walked away toward your bag.

“So you don’t want me?”

“Chris--.” The question was blatant. You couldn’t lie about it. You also couldn’t say anything. The terror in you was at its peak and the truth was you were too scared.

“You don’t feel what I feel?” You could feel him behind you. You wanted to turn to him and stare in his eyes but you knew if you did you couldn’t get through this. You were barely making it now. You reached into your purse and took out the folded papers.

“Tell me Vixen. There is no way that you feel nothing; no way that all this time we’ve spent together, after everything we’ve done together meant nothing.”

You try to keep a straight face, one that was arid of emotion that could give any indication just how much you were dying inside. The outward signs of that agony were your tears that continued to roll down your cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the papers to his chest. Debating inside yourself you kept your hand on them—on him. This was yet another time a war was being waged within you, brain, reality, freedom, safety, or heart, dreamland, complication, risk. Maybe you had a lot more of this gypsy spirit your mother spoke about, you thought.

“I'm not strong enough, or brave enough. This won't end well.”

After a long hesitation and endless internal debate, you pulled your hand away from his chest just as he gripped the papers. You still didn’t know if you were doing the right thing from your heart or from fear. Unable to look at him anymore you slinked past him and down the hall. You had no idea how you did it so gracefully, especially considering how shaky your legs were.

-Chris-

He couldn’t believe his eyes. The force of his realization of seeing this knocked the wind out of his lungs. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, hear his heart pounding so loudly that there was no other sound that he heard. Divorce papers—signed divorce papers. He gripped the side of the island hoping to steady himself. More hurt than he’d ever felt in his life bombarded him. His hyperventilating came on quickly and impacted his other senses, his vision, his breathing, his scent, even his touch. This was his worse nightmare, the worst outcome.

“It’s over. She doesn’t want me.”

Acknowledging that out loud felt like ripping his heart out. It had been so long since he’d felt pain like this, it dated as far back as his childhood. Even then did not compare to now. He didn’t know how long he stood there, didn’t know if he could move, or speak for that matter. When he finally did move his limbs felt heavy as if he had fifty pounds of lead in his body. He couldn’t think but he sure felt everything. Digging in his pocket he took out his pen and pressed it to the paper on the island right next to the blank line for him. He wavered for a few moments but shook off the hesitation and signed his name on the line next to yours. Once complete he got the hell out there sparing not even a second to look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24 @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97 @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea @ursapharoh05 @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushrooms @titty-teetee @ab-baybay @kreolemami @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @dangerouslovefanfic @heladoom @renesmeeharelds @zaddysqueen7 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @deidrashouseofpain @coldmuffinbanditshoe @evemej @chaselovinggert @ben-wyxtt @designerwriterchic @chrisgalore @jennmurawski13 @rynabarnesrogers @yunggyeezyy @kemkem101 @dearkyrainez @minton131@momobaby227 @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @browneyes9125 @mjey12 @magdelen69 @hannahholland1811 @lo-cheu

#love maybe fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader

176 notes · View notes

davebuckleslefthand · 3 years

Text

Martial LAW ??? LOGISTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE..

there are not enough troops in these USA to go and attempt to implement Martial law over OUR United States.

June 30, 2013 at 4:06am and still the rumble under the table makes one think: “What if?”

EVEN IF THE RUSSIANS AND THE CHINESE AND THE ENTIRE UN MILITARY FORCE SHOWED UP...

So many of you have been fed disinformation that the Obama Cabal are waiting for us to act so they can declare Martial Law. This becomes the reason you use to permit yourself to be in bondage now. Its like a slave who thinks

“I cannot rise against the master because he is just waiting for a chance to whup my ass."

Anyone who feels that Revolting and exercising our rights to resist Tyranny, will give the Government the reason to impose "Martial Law" read this; carefully.

I am telling you unequivocally...

"That line of thinking is exactly what they want you to think!"

It's a RED HERRING"

NATIONAL MARTIAL LAW?

LOGISTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE IN A COUNTRY OUR SIZE....

"NATIONAL MARTIAL LAW"? IMPOSSIBLE TO IMPLEMENT!

Do not use that as the excuse to exercise your rights!

IF WE TAKE UP ARMS AND FIGHT AGAINST TYRANNY...

OBAMA WILL IMPOSE "MARTIAL LAW".

The "cowardly nay sayers" say. "Do not do that"; "Let them fire the first shot".

Good grief how many times have I heard these pathetic lines. Too many times.

Patriots.

Lets rationally analyze this OK ?

What is Martial Law ? It is the exercise of Government and Control by Military authorities over the civilian population of a designated territory.

"Designated Territory" get it. There is no army in the world that can impose Martial Law over all of AMERICA. The country is too big. It is logistically impossible. Some cities?

Yes...

a large area? Maybe.

They will delay Martial Law if it ever comes until they have confiscated your guns. Do you know why they want gun registration and then gun confiscation?

So that they can control large areas. Right now it is IMPOSSIBLE.

Why ?

1. 100% of the Military will not go along with Obama's illegal declaration. There will be a mutiny in the military. So about 70% will take their arms and munition and join the American Citizens... creating huge holes in the logistical supply chains for the remaining enforcers. 2. The PEOPLE will be against them so there will be limited safe havens for the enforcers and they will have to move in large convoys reducing their tactical ability to control large sections or land. 3. The most important point is that there will be return fire.

Patriots have guns. LOTS OF THEM.

Here are some consoling and awesome statistics. There were 13.7 million hunters in the United States over age 16 -- 12.7 million of whom used rifles, shotguns or handguns for hunting, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

That means hunters constituted only 15.9 to 18.1 percent of the estimated 70-80 million gun owners in the U.S. in 2011 --- the latest year for which statistics are available.

In a Dec. 28 national report, USF&W said 13.7 million individuals over age 16 self-identified as hunters, and that 12.7 million used guns (shotguns, rifles and or handguns) while hunting.

Another 2.9 million hunters used antique muzzleloaders to hunt, but according to USF&W, there is overlap between this figure and other figures due to them reporting.

Around 4.5 million hunted with bows and arrows.

The National Rifle Association (NRA), meanwhile, estimates there are between 70 - 80 million American s gun owners as of the January 2011 stats; these are over a decade old.

Those 70-80 million gun owners had in their possession almost 300 million firearms, about 100 million of which were handguns.

America's Hunters: The Entire World's Largest Army.

The state of Wisconsin has over 600,000 hunters that got permits this (2o11)

Allow me to restate that number: 600,000

Over the last two months, the eighth largest army in the world - more men under arms than Iran; more than France and Germany combined - deployed to the woods of a single American state to keep the deer population under control.

But that pales in comparison to the 750,000 who are in the woods of Pennsylvania this week. Michigan's 700,000 hunters have now returned home. Toss in a quarter million hunters in West Virginia, and it is literally the case that the hunters of those four states alone would comprise the largest army in the world.

And that is just FOUR states.

The total population of registered hunters in America today ranges from 23 million to 43.7 million individuals. (Based on annual data provided by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.) As long as the American Hunter retains his right to Bear Arms, America will forever be safe from imposition of Martial Law and a Military tale over if we all stick together.

AN OBAMA FORCE STANDS LITTLE CHANCE TO BE ABLE TO IMPOSE MARTIAL LAW GIVEN THESE STATISTICS.

So cut the crap that Obama wants us to do something so he can impose Martial Law. We must not be afraid to act when the time comes.

Some additional stuff to consider:

Strategically... be prepared for the Government to shut down the internet and possible all cell service. In retaliation Patriots will knock out all Cell towers and TV Towers so the State Run Media will not be able to transmit their propaganda.The News paper printing presses will be destroyed and so in the end ham and shortwave radios that will be used by Patriots. I hope most of you guys have ham radios. The Government will have their emergency broadcast system so they will be able to communicate very effectively. Patriots will require undercover "runners"!

The Government does not have the man power to put more than 5 -6 Major Metro areas under Martial Law... and since 55% of the Law Enforcement Officers are Oath Keepers, Count on them coming over to our side.

Strategic highways into the cities are needed to truck food into most concrete jungles in the inner cities since food can only be trucked in. The Government will spend a lot of resources trying to make sure the population who is still supporting them are provisioned. When their provisions run low... they will riot against the government too demanding more resources and this will spread their resources even thinner.

UN and foreign troops may move in but they have less skills in the US countryside and while they may be effective in the cities they will not be sent out into the suburbs.

The African American troops will only venture out into the countryside on suicide missions since even if they are not loyal to Obama they will be perceived to be due to to the extensive race baiting by the cabal and as such are pretty much useless except in the urban areas. They will be kept out of the standard confrontation theater.

So who will be fighting then ?? A limited Military force with a lot of very high tech weaponry... but we are not in uniform so Patriots will be very difficult to distinguish from the population. They will be in uniform because they have to stay together and ID each other.

Coins and "barterable" items need to be stocked because paper money will become a semi useless in most areas. Understand that there will be retaliation so families need to be kept in safe haven areas. They will consider cutting of power and water supplies to Patriot Enclaves but they will have difficulty controlling the RED STATES.

The Blue State Metros areas will riot on their own because they will be in short supply of all basic requirements since all their stuff needs to be trucked in.

Its going to get hot but we will win once we get started. Martial Law or not!

The Command and Controls for Patriot zones are already in place and all that will need to happen is the "Link up"

Additional Info from @John A Brown:

The country has 4 million square miles of land, 4 million miles of paved roads, 150,000 miles of railroads, thousands of miles of navigable rivers.

What is their significance? Every bite of food, every drop of fuel . . . not to mention every single electronic communication of every kind . . . has to pass along these routes and EVERYTHING in that inventory of needs and services either originates in, or must pass through our States... the so called "Flyover Country", i.e. red states and red counties.

WE WILL STOP THEM IN THEIR TRACKS!!

Stay alert Patriots. SHARE AND KNOW THAT WE ARE ALL NOT ALONE...

THERE ARE OVER 100 MILLION LIKE US...

BEHIND EVERY BLADE OF GRASS!

1 note · View note

letterboxd · 3 years

Photo

Life Detained.

The Mauritanian director Kevin Macdonald talks with Jack Moulton about researching Guantanamo Bay’s top secrets, Tahar Rahim’s method-acting techniques, the ingenuity of humanity during the pandemic, and his favorite Scottish films.

“You’ve got to understand that for a Muslim man like Tahar, this role has a much greater significance than it does for you or me.” —Kevin Macdonald

It’s not uncommon for a director to release two films in one year, but Academy-Award winning—for his 1999 documentary One Day in September—director Kevin Macdonald is guilty of this achievement multiple times. Ten years ago, he released his first crowd-sourced documentary Life in a Day and the period epic The Eagle within months of each other. A decade on, he’s done it again.

The Scottish director (and grandson of legendary filmmaker Emeric Pressburger) released both his Life in a Day follow-up and the legal drama The Mauritanian this month. The latter tells the story of Guantanamo Bay detainee Mohamedou Ould Slahi (sometimes written as Salahi), who was held and tortured in the notorious US detention center for fourteen years without a charge. The film, adapted from Slahi’s 2015 memoir Guantánamo Diary, features Jodie Foster and Shailene Woodley as his defense attorneys Nancy Hollander and Teri Duncan, with Benedict Cumberbatch, who also signed on as the film’s producer, playing prosecutor Lt. Stuart Couch.

Benedict Cumberbatch as prosecutor Lt. Stuart Couch in ‘The Mauritanian’.

The Mauritanian also introduces French star Tahar Rahim to a global audience, in the role of Slahi. “The ensemble is excellent across the board,” writes Zach Gilbert, “while Tahar Rahim is best in show overall, bringing honorable heart and humanity to his role [of] the titular mistreated prisoner.”

Much of the story is filmed as an office-based legal thriller involving thick files, intense conversations, and Jodie Foster’s very bright lipstick. Macdonald expertly employs aspect ratio to signify narrative shifts into scenes recreating Slahi’s vivid recollections of torture and his achingly brief conversations with unseen fellow detainees.

Qualifying for this year’s awards season due to extended deadlines, The Mauritanian has already earned Golden Globe nominations for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actress for Rahim and Foster respectively. Slahi remains unable to travel due to no-fly lists, but he was a valuable resource to the production, providing an accurate and rare depiction of a sympathetic Muslim character in an American film.

It was the eve of Life in a Day 2020’s Sundance Film Festival premiere when we Zoomed with Macdonald. Behind him, we spied a full set of the Italian posters for Michelangelo Antonioni’s classic Blow-Up. As it turns out, he’s not a fan of the film—only the posters—so we got him talking about his desert-island top ten after a few questions about his new film.

The attention to detail on Guantanamo Bay in The Mauritanian is impressive. There are procedures depicted that you rarely see on-screen. How did you conduct your research? Obviously Guantanamo Bay is a place which the American government spends a great deal of effort keeping secret. It was important to Mohamedou and me that we depicted the reality of the procedures as accurately as we possibly could. That research came primarily from Mohamedou who has an incredible memory. He drew sketches and made videos of himself lying down in spaces and showing how he could stretch half his arm out [in his cell]. There are a lot of photographs on the internet of Guantanamo Bay which are [fake] and others are from a later period because the place developed a lot over the years since it started in 2002 and Mohamedou was able to [identify] which photos were rooms, courtyards and medical centers he had been in.

Director Kevin Macdonald on set with Jodie Foster.

How did you approach creating an honest representation of the graphic torture scenes, without putting the audience through it as well? Whenever films about this period are [made] they’re always from the point of view of the Americans and this time we’re with Mohamedou. You can’t underestimate the fact that there have really been no mainstream American cinematic portrayals of Muslims at all, so in portraying a sympathetic Muslim character who’s also accused of terrorism, you’re pushing some hot buttons with people. It was important that those people who are uncomfortable with him understand why he confessed to what he confessed.

Everything you see in the film is what happened; the only difference is that they weren’t wearing masks of cats and Shrek-like creatures, they wore Star Wars masks of Yoda and Luke Skywalker in this very perverse fucked-up version of American pop culture. Obviously, we couldn’t get the rights to those. Actually, I don’t feel that it is graphic. There is more violence in your average Marvel movie. It’s psychologically disturbing because you’re experiencing this disorientating lighting, the [heavy-metal] music, and he’s being told his mother’s going to be raped and he’s flashing back to his childhood. To be empathizing with this character and then to see them to be so cruelly treated is so deeply disturbing.

How did you prepare Tahar Rahim for his convincing portrayal of such intense pain and suffering? Tahar went through a great deal of discomfort in order to achieve it. He felt that to give a performance that had any chance of being truthful, he needed to experience a little bit of what Mohamedou had suffered, so throughout the movie he would insist on wearing real shackles which made his leg bleed and give him blisters. I would plead with him to put on rubber ones and he would say “no, I have to do this so I’m not just play-acting”.

He starved himself for about three weeks leading up to a torture sequence—he had lost an awful amount of weight and he was really unsteady on his legs. I was very worried about it and I got him nutritionists and doctors but he was determined to stick with that. You’ve got to understand that for a Muslim man like Tahar, this role has a much greater significance than it does for you or me. He felt a great weight of responsibility to do this correctly, not just for Mohamedou, but he was speaking for the whole Muslim world in a way.

Jodie Foster and Shailene Woodley as defense attorneys in ‘The Mauritanian’.

What compels you to study this period in time? Mohamedou was released a couple of weeks before Trump came to power in 2016, so the story is still ongoing for him. He’s still being harassed by the American government and he’s not allowed to travel because he’s on these no-fly lists. I didn’t want to make a movie that was saying “George W. Bush is terrible”. We’ve been there, we’ve done that. This is looking back with a little bit of distance and saying “here’s the principles that we can learn from when you sidestep the rule of law”—what it takes to stand up like Lt. Stuart Couch did when everyone else around you is going along with something that’s really terrible.

You see that around Trump with the choices within the Republican Party to stand up and say they’re going to sacrifice their careers to do the right thing. It is a hard thing when there’s this mass hysteria in the air. The basic principles that the lawyer [characters] are representing is not about analyzing and replaying what happened after 9/11, they’re directly related in a bigger way to the world we all inhabit.

Did anything surprise you in how your subjects for Life in a Day 2020 addressed the pandemic? One of the most affecting characters in the film is an American who lost his home and business because of the pandemic, so he’s living in his car. He seems very depressed when you meet him for the first time, then later he’s telling us there’s something that’s giving him joy in his life. He brings out all these drones with these cameras on them and puts on this VR headset and loses himself by flying through the trees. I thought that was such a great metaphor for the way that human ingenuity has enabled us to survive and thrive during the pandemic.

I get the feeling of resilience from [the film]. This is a more thoughtful film than the original one. I see this as a movie of [us] being beware of our susceptibility to disease and ultimately to death and mortality, [and] how we’ve found these consolations as human beings. To me, it’s a really profound thing. It also speaks to the main theme of the film which is how we’re all so similar, same as The Mauritanian. It’s confronting you with all these people and saying we fundamentally all share the basic things that underpin our lives and the differences between us are much less important than the things we have in common.

Let’s go from Life in a Day to your life in film. What’s a Scottish film that you love but you feel is very overlooked or underrated? That’s really hard because there aren’t many Scottish films and there aren’t many good ones. Gregory’s Girl is the greatest Scottish film ever made—it’s the bible for life for me. That’s very well-known, so I would have to say Bill Forsyth’s previous film That Sinking Feeling, which was self-funded and made on 16mm black-and-white. It has some of the same actors and characters as Gregory’s Girl in it. Or my grandfather Emeric Pressberger’s film I Know Where I’m Going! which is a rare romantic comedy set in Scotland.

John Gordon Sinclair and Dee Hepburn in Bill Forsyth’s ‘Gregory’s Girl’ (1980).

Which film made you want to become a filmmaker? I think it was Errol Morris’s The Thin Blue Line, which is one of the top five documentaries ever made and in my top ten desert-island movies.

What else is in your desert-island top ten? Oh god, don’t! I knew you were going to ask me that. I’ll give a few. I would say there would have to be something by Preston Sturges—maybe The Lady Eve or The Palm Beach Story. There would have to be a film written by my grandfather, so probably The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, which is the best British film ever made. There would have to be Singin’ in the Rain, which is the most purely joyful film I’ve ever seen. There would probably be The Battle of Algiers, which I rewatched recently and was an inspiration on The Mauritanian. Citizen Kane I also rewatched in anticipation of watching Mank, of which I was very disappointed. I thought it completely missed the point and was kind of boring.

Which was the best film released in 2020 for you? I thought the Russian film Dear Comrades! was really stunning. It was made by a director [Andrei Konchalovsky] in his 80s who first worked with Andrei Tarkovsky back in the late 1950s. He co-scripted Ivan’s Childhood. I would love to make my masterpiece when I’m 86 too!