Category: 70s au

oh this got away from me

thatdeepandlovelydark:

…*dang* it I swear that whenever I specifically say “no I ain’t gonna fic that” my subconscious goes right ahead and cooks up a story for me. (This is what I get for napping after reblogging all those Eastwood pics huh.)

Albeit, this is Rawhide through the lens of the 70s GBU filter, so uh….what can I say, I don’t like Gil Favor. I do like how that dynamic works with the distinctly screwed-up nature of 70s Blondie though. 

Retrospectively, mind. Post-canon fic, sometime during the trio’s first Christmas together. 

It’s a crazy thing the way he and Blondie have swapped off, Tuco thinks. Wishes for what seems like the hundredth time that he could wipe the sweat and snow off his face- it doesn’t seem fair, to get both at once. But even the small end of this pine tree is heavy and walking backwards is tricky, he doesn’t want to drop it. 

“Careful now,” Blondie says heartily. “We’re almost at the door.”

His partner’s beaming, pink-faced. Blondie’s taking a deep and lively pleasure in the seasonal festivities, boisterously enthusiastic about every snow-dappled tradition, while he’s been wearying his soul out for warmth and dust-strewn Texas roads. Tuco balances the tree on his shoulder, fumbles for the doorknob-

“You two are the height of absurdity.” Angel Eyes opens the door wide, placing one black-gloved hand on his shoulder to guide him inside. Hearing that wry familiar bewilderment, maybe it still doesn’t make it all worth it. 

Goes some ways, though. 

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me-fish: Angel Eyes is less than happy about h…

me-fish:

Angel Eyes is less than happy about having to ride in the sidecar, which Blondie & Tuco find absolutely hilarious…

(Originally a lil’ gift for @marmalated <3 posted here with her kind permission. I had fun playing in her motorcycle-AU sandbox a bit!)

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inwardscreams:

Jonathan Hemlock | The Eiger Sanction

bleak-nomads: Angel Eyes – 70s AU Moodboard (…

bleak-nomads:

Angel Eyes – 70s AU Moodboard (3/??)

bleak-nomads:  Tuco – 70s AU Moodboard (1/??)

bleak-nomads:

 Tuco – 70s AU Moodboard (1/??)

bleak-nomads: Blondie – 70s AU Moodboard (2/…

bleak-nomads:

Blondie – 70s AU Moodboard (2/??)

sybilius: hums “heart of gold” to self… these …

sybilius:

hums “heart of gold” to self…

these two I stg. Also Tuco probably picked out that sweater for Angel like “so I can have something to steal that’s Not Grey” and Angel was like “sure I don’t mind the color :)”

two pair and a red trilby – sybilius – Il buon…

two pair and a red trilby – sybilius – Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966) [Archive of Our Own]:

sybilius:

A young Mexican hustler and his golden-haired partner strike it unusually lucky one night, and take with their winnings what little comfort they can share together.

70s AU, but would be about 1959 by the timeline.

*

Hey I wrote this fantastically explicit porno precluded by a character chatting about why he’s a gay-would-be-catholic-priest-converted-from-protestant, so you know it’s definitely one a fic in the specifics if nothing else. 

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thatdeepandlovelydark:

in which I have repurposed two phrases by @prompting-writer, by way of beat poetry

takes place not long after Tuco and Blondie have fled to the priory

“What have I missed more? The sunlight and the warmth, or the cold and the need for you?”

There’s a smattering of applause, to the apparent delight of the breathless purple-haired student taking her bow; Tuco joins in more for the sake of unobtrusiveness than desire. This poetry slam, it’s more depressing than he’d counted on.

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not a gatehouse scene

thatdeepandlovelydark:

but taking place during that long strange Lent. Probably towards the end. 

(following up, among other things, on the Pablo/Tuco discussion about what this monastery’s for and veiled reference to the church’s abuse scandal. Mentioning that in case it’s triggering.)

“For christ’s sake, put the gun down,” Blondie snaps. “We’re in a holy place.”

“He’s right,” Tuco says, quietly. “Have a little faith, Angel. In my brother if nothing else.”

“I hardly know your brother,” Angel says, evidently unmoved. “Do you two seriously think that incense and stained windows would stop police from doing, what needs to be done? Or that they’d stop me?”

Tuco’s never been sure, how one could bite a lip so hard the blood flows; but his are pressed together so thin it hurts. There’s far more anger mixed into it than he trusts himself to admit right now. Nobody should be pacing around a chapel like this, weapon at the ready and checking ammo- maybe he’s not the most pious believer, but it sickens him with a ferocity that he’d hardly have imagined himself capable of. 

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