Category: fic

blow a kiss, fire a gun – Chapter 6 – sictrans…

blow a kiss, fire a gun – Chapter 6 – sictransitgloriamundi – Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966) [Archive of Our Own]:

thatdeepandlovelydark:

girlfriendsofthegalaxy:

in which we start but do not finish several dozen sidequests, and pine some more, and come to a realization

Yayyy this happened

sybilius: queen of hearts, king of hearts, (j…

sybilius:

queen of hearts, king of hearts, (jack of hearts)

*

He pulls back, brushing Angel’s sharp cheekbones with his bare hands. God, his eyes. Manco can’t tell, in this light, if they look more like the flinty certainty of a bitter antihero tired of picking up the gun, or cool and snakelike, the devil drawing the hero in with so much guileless lust.

He deserves his name. Manco has to give him that much.

The way he looks at you, you almost think you deserve yours.

the cinematics of semantics, by @sybilius

no return address

sybilius:

Second to last chapter end of the cinematics of semantics. Immediately follows from this

This really…broke my heart to write. Not because it’s awful. But because, rather, it isn’t. 

*

My innamorato is quiet, on the drive returning to the hacienda. It does not escape me to name that as a strange thing to think, given his characteristic terseness. Something, perhaps, about the slow way he puts the cigarillo to his mouth betrays deep thinking. Effectus sequitir causam.

I let my eyes wander back to the road, thinking of birthdays shared, foolish gestures beaten into the rhythm of living. Yet so willing, eager, I am to march to that cacophony once more. 

As was with Alma, the company makes a difference. I have to suppose. 

Keep reading

in this spinning carnival – sybilius – Il buon…

in this spinning carnival – sybilius – Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966) [Archive of Our Own]:

sybilius:

How many acts keep a circus show spinning? How many gasping faces to keep the lions fed, the humans fed, the wolves at bay? How fine must the trapeze artists swing? How close must the knife-thrower brush with death?

Tuco Ramirez wishes fairly often that he didn’t have to ask those questions.

*
A reimagining of the 70s trio, in a certain pair of brothers’ travelling circus.

******

And today, we put our fun AUs up on Ao3 because it is a site that begins with “archive”

"boot leather" for the trio? (70s or…

"boot leather" for the trio? (70s or canon)

“Cowboy boots,” Angel Eyes says, shaking his head at the game card. 

“Rawhide,” Blondie says, puffing out cigarillo smoke with a smirk. 

“Charlie Chaplin,” Tuco says, and shrugs at the others’ stare. 

the cinematics of semantics | Chapter 4: Augus…

the cinematics of semantics | Chapter 4: August 1972: Therefore it Is:

sybilius:

Blondie’s lips tighten. Manco has a good story.

He revs the still-running engine, looking to the road.

“Yeah, alright. You can show me.”

Take your foot off the brake, shift out and drive off into the sunset. Credits roll.

Manco doesn’t take his foot off the brake.

*

Hey so Chapter 4 of cinematics/semantics is finally up! I’m really very happy with it. This is the first story in a while I’ve told in tumblr posts, and definitely the first in a long time I hadn’t felt I had a strong handle on what exactly was to happen until I wrote it (I still planned it but …the themes were unclear to me, that’s rare).

Anyways I’m thrilled to say this is super shaping up to something I’m proud of. Thanks to @thatdeepandlovelydark for their feedback regarding canonicity in the 70s au, and of course, for the gift that is the 70s au to begin with! <3

would love to hear thoughts on this if people read! 

the gay cowboys whomst i love all three of the…

the gay cowboys whomst i love all three of them, tequila

“You think this means he trusts us now?” Tuco asks, covering his lover with a quilt against the Wisconsin cold. 

“I think it just says we spent more of our lives hanging around bars than he ever needed to.“

“Don’t feel you need to stop drinking on my account,” Angel slurs, an empty bottle dangling from his white-gloved hand. 

Tucoeyes, tell me about a time one of them tri…

Tucoeyes, tell me about a time one of them tried to make a homemade gift for the other? 😀

(IDK how this ended up Blondeyes? It did though.)

In theory, there must be a moment between sleep and waking; a nebulous point of insecurity, of transition betwixt states.

In practice, Blondie muses, he’s yet to actually catch Angel Eyes looking flustered during that process. 

Albeit, the man’s certainly looking flustered now. “…are my cupcakes on fire?” 

“Whoops,” Blondie says. Not budging an inch from the beanbag parked next to the fireplace. 

He reacts not at all to Angel’s scowling, nor smoke rather more noisome than that of pipe tobacco, nor the blustery wind that blows in when Angel pries up the latch. 

“You might have woken me up.”

“I trust you to know what you’re doing in the kitchen. Didn’t seem my business to interfere,” Blondie says, rising; goes to rest a comfortable hand on Angel’s back. “Don’t be so anxious. Tuco isn’t going to mind.”

“Orange-rind cupcakes and orange frosting. I gave myself one task to do today, just one, and I’ve- I’ve-”

“Angel. You know if there’s anything he is gonna hate for his birthday, it’s you getting worked up….besides which,” Blondie says, dipping his thumb into the cut-glass bowl. “Could be worse. This frosting’s all right, he’ll enjoy that.”

He licks it off, meditatively, while Angel stares. 

“Frosting on top of what?”

“Forget what, just give him the bowl and tell him to dig in. He won’t know the difference. You can always blame it on me, if you like.”

The thin-lipped expression on Angel’s face is nothing akin to gratitude: more of studied calculation. “If it doesn’t go well, you can rest assured I will-” 

“You two are such idiots, you know that?” a voice calls from the bedroom. “Can I come out yet?”

“Yes and yes,” Blondie says, taking a bite of slightly charred cupcake. Angel’s too fussy. It tastes all right to him-

“…ooh, so that’s what that smell was.” 

“Yes,” Angel Eyes says, with the composed readiness of a waiting martyr. “Apologies.” 

Tuco shrugs and grabs a spoon. “You worry too much, that’s what…”

stripped wires

sybilius:

I suspect there’s a little more to this where MancoBlondie is mooning over Tuco’s letters that he hasn’t brought himself to read (and then does) – but here’s some Macgyver bullshit for now 🙂

Keep reading

🏟️, ⭐, 📈 (Tuco) for Bleeding Across State Li…

🏟️, ⭐, 📈 (Tuco) for Bleeding Across State Lines!

Intended audience– ah ha. Me. It was me. 

I mean, coming off Nobody Ever Comments MacGyver fandom into another even smaller fandom, I had next to no expectations- Animal Magnetism had a nice reception, but people will pop out of the woodwork for Yuletide and then vanish never to be seen again. So I was writing for myself pretty much, as I usually do. 

That changed almost immediately, mind, once I discovered I had Actual Readers, but aside from Syb (who as series co-author is kinda a special case) I still write pretty much just with me in mind. Albeit, I’ve leaned into the oranges thing more than I expected to, heh 🙂

Was there a clear character arc you wanted Tuco to go on – oh, sure! From about scene two it was “fall in love with Angel, in a fashion that preserves everyone’s natural dignity”. 

(I have no idea how anyone writes characters without an understanding of their natural dignity, but then I’d be hard put to explaining just what I actually mean by that- the point is I knew it was doable, but it’d have to be coached carefully. Angel was not going to fall head over heels in a night. Tuco was not gonna jump feet-first into a racket where he’d have to be Cautious and Listen To Authority.)

Blondie’s reactions to all this were, frankly, reactions. 

What’s a scene/paragraph you’re proud of? – 

As I recall, I wrote the second-person Angel gatehouse scene in a fit of pique. 

Judging by results, I oughta have more fits of pique!