#curly bill teaches

[curlysgirl0202]

JOHNNY RINGO/READER STORY CONTINUED...

"Please come this afternoon, Johnny!" You plead.

Ringo looks at you and then turns away.

"Why do you care so much when nobody else does?" Ringo asks you. "You're running a fool's errand waiting around for someone like me."

He shakes his head, gazing at you and the innocence that surrounds you, although you endured horrors during and after the war.

"Johnny, just come for a short while?"

"Sure. Then maybe you'll learn you're wasting your time." He looks down. "You don't know what I've done..." He whispers, almost to himself.

"Johnny, I know about Quantrill! I know about you and Jesse and Frank James!"

Ringo looks at you, uncertain of what to make of your knowledge of his past.

Ringo nods slowly. "That ain't the worst part," he grumbles.

"The Hoodoo War? The Youngers? Johnny, I know. Did you know Doc Holliday is wanted in Dodge for slicing a man from his chest to his..." You put your head down.

Johnny Ringo takes a long look at you. He touches your face and rings your chin with his thumb. His large, calloused hand feels the softness of your skin. He loves the way the light catches the highlights of your hair and gold flecks sparkle in the sun. He knows at that moment, he's never seen a more beautiful woman.

"Doc has a death wish," Johnny answers, gazing at the vast frontier. "I'm sure we'll share a room in hell." Johnny's eyes are still surveying the area.

Unfamiliar emotions creep into Ringo's heart. Your softness and naive nature make him feel vulnerable and a bit uneven. He didn't want to appear weak or lovesick in front of the other Cowboys.

"Women sure are a thing of wonder!" Curly Bill declared on many occasions. "But they make a man weak!"

And Curly Bill was right; women can ease the burden of loneliness men like Ringo endured. But only for a short time and probably because they either needed to accommodate other customers or because they simply lost interest. Whores don't participate in charity and they expect to be well paid for their services.

"You should go home. You shouldn't be here," Johnny tells you, but you hear the longing in his voice. "You're too good for this place. Why would you ride out here anyway? Nothing but a bunch of smelly cowboys!"

You move closer to Johnny and to your relief, he doesn't back away.

"I wanted to know why you just left!"

"Because I'm not good enough for you! Nobody around here is."

Your heart sinks.

"No! I'm not!" You declare.

"Please keep your voice low," Johnny pleads. "I don't want them asking questions about you. Damn fools," Johnny grunts.

"Tell my why you-"

"Left?" He responds. Johnny rubs the back of his neck. "Seeing you lying there looking like some sort of forbidden fruit. You, you...You looked so perfect. So sweet and pure. How could I touch you? I don't deserve to touch you!"

"Johnny," you whisper, covering your mouth with your hand. You struggle to understand this man standing in front of you.

He cannot stand to see you in any pain or distress. "See, I told you. You hang around me, you'll get nothing but trouble. Nothing but danger and trouble will come your way!"

You begin to turn away to leave, but you know you must stand your ground. "That's why? Johnny, I wanted to be with you!"

Curly Bill stands up to stretch out and looks over at you and Johnny. He adjusts his hat and returns to working on helping Pony fix a wheel on the chuck wagon.

Johnny Ringo looks at you and your sincere words touch him deeply. His upbringing and his mother telling him over and over that he must be a good Christian gentleman.

"If you're a Christian gentleman, it will open doors for you, Johnny," his mother would say. "You must become educated and do not let the ways of the world corrupt you."

"You'll be disappointed. Like everyone else," Johnny answers.

You walk close enough to him that your bodies are almost touching.

"Just come to my home later. Please?" You plead. "Just for a visit. Without anyone there. Just us." You put your hand out and take his. He almost pulls away, but savors the softness of your touch.

Johnny nods and then turns away. "I'll be there," he sighs.

You walk fast towards Daisy. After you mount up, you shout,Giddyap, girl!" You ride fast back to your cottage and once Daisy is secure, you head into your home where you freshen yourself for Johnny Ringo. After washing up, you brush your hair, apply some lotion and body spray and wait for your cowboy.

Johnny Ringo returns to his tent. He smiles to himself briefly. Your determination to win him over touches him deeply and he wonders what you see in him. Women always seemed happy to see Johnny and his gentlemanly qualities made him a favorite with the ladies. However, those ladies were often associated with prostitution. Women of the night who offer comfort to lonely outlaws don't ask questions, don't care how much whiskey you suck back or where you come from. Keep the cash flowing and they'll show genuine concern; something Ringo can't seem to live without.

Curly Bill saunters over and flips the tent flap open. "What's that all about Juanito? Can't have a little beauty like that coming over here around these boys! She oughta know better!" Curly Bill admonishes.

"I didn't send for her," Ringo says, feeling annoyed at Curly Bill's curiosity.

"A face like hers could stop a stampede. Or start one! She's gotta know we can't have a distraction like that! You know how them boys are! Specially the Clanton's and McClaurey's!"

"Quit wagging your tongue, Bill!" Ringo barks back. "We could use something soft around here. Get a break from the stink of horse shit and you smelly cowboys!"

"You stink just as bad, there, Johnny!" Curly Bill reminds him as he swaggers back to where he was earlier. He shakes his head while walking towards the picket line of horses.

"Women..." He mumbles under his breath.

Johnny takes his boots off and shakes the dirt out. "Johnny, if the law don't catch up to you, the smell of your feet will." He changes his socks and puts his boots back on. He wants to feel and look his best for you. You deserve better than a stinky cowboy. He combs his hair and puts his hat back on.

Without saying a word, Ringo heads to the picket line. He carefully saddles his horse and heads to your quaint and modest cottage.

Johnny trots out of the Cowboys camp and rides full gallup to your home. He feels the wind in his hair and the feeling of a strong horse between his legs. He tightens his grip on the reigns.

"Giddyap!" He shouts, and spurs his horse into a run.

You can hear the sound of Johnny's horse approaching and you check your face in the mirror one last time. You rush to the front door, but decide to practice patience.

Your heart skips a beat when his knuckles tap your door.

You open it slowly. He sees you, dressed in a pink blouse and tan colored skirt and in bare feet.

He can feel his neck turn hot and flushed when he looks at you.

"Welcome, Johnny," you say softly, a shy smile decorating your face.

Johnny Ringo takes his hat off and enters your quaint home. "This is a nice little place. You must do well as a waitress."

You close the door and smile up at your cowboy.

"I do alright. Tips help."

"I'm sure you do well in that regard. Specially with the menfolk." Johnny can feel his face grow red as he regrets giving you the compliment. "I didn't mean it like that. You're just a special lady. That's all."

"I know what you meant, Johnny. No need to explain."

Johnny smiles freely and realizes how much he admires how free you are in life. You don't scoff or wait for him to explain himself. You just accept him. And understand him. Johnny rocks back and forth on his feet. He stands, with his hat in his hands.

"Here, let me take that," you say. You pull a chair out and he curses himself for not reacting sooner. He sees a vase of fresh flowers resting on your small table and he clenches his jaw. In his rush and nervousness, he didn't bring anything for you. He looks down and then back at your beautiful face.

"What's wrong, Johnny?" You inquire.

He shakes his head. "Just...I can't believe how pretty you are," he says, suddenly feeling foolish again.

You smile sweetly. He moves closer to you, his slurs echoing on the wooden floor. "Please have a seat, Johnny! Do you want some tea?"

Johnny doesn't respond right away.

"How about a little whiskey? I have some!" You annouce happily.

Johnny smiles and lowers his head, feeling a little foolish that he'd rather have whiskey than tea.

"Please have a seat!" You say. Johnny watches you move around the kitchen, smooth in your bare feet.

You grab two plates, two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. You then reach up and take a freshly baked pie from the cupboard.

"I hope you're hungry! I baked a pie very early this morning."

Johnny adjusts himself in his chair and watches you play the hostess so gracefully. You cut two slices, lick your thumb and place the dishes in front of you both. You take a bite and then Johnny, feeling awkward, picks up the fork and takes a bite. The sweetest of the pie, mixed with hints of cinnamon and butter melt in his mouth. He savors the richness of the dessert and slowly sips his whiskey.

"It's really tasty," Johnny remarks, causing you to smile.

"Thank you!" Through the open window, you can hear the whinnying of the horses and you get a wiff of the sweet aroma of wildflowers that flow through the soft afternoon breeze. A relaxed feeling washes over Johnny Ringo in a way he's not familiar with. He takes another bite of pie.

"Hard to believe a woman like you isn't settled," Johnny tells you. "You're a hard working lady. And you can bake." Johnny takes the last bite of his pie. "Hard to believe you're not attached."

Johnny suddenly cringes, feeling awkward. "I didn't mean it like that," he finishes. He takes a sip of whiskey and glares out the window.

"It's just, you're different...I could see that when you were serving us. Curly Bill likes to get a rise out of people." He finishes off his pie and pushes the plate aside.

"More?" You ask, licking your fingers in an almost child-like manner. Ringo lowers his head and grins.

Why is she not with anyone?

He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll take a piece back to camp," he says. "All the boys will be jealous," he attempts to lighten the mood.

"Curly Bill did say he was sorry," you mention.

"Yeah, old Curly just talks. He prefers it when people are afraid of him. He likes throwing his weight around. And often, people move out of his way. But then there's someone like you who just offers kindness. It's not something we Cowboys are used to."

You smile, remembering how nervous and out of place Curly Bill looked when he apologized to you.

"At least he was decent," you say.

"Curly Bill is one of the toughest and bravest men I know. And he's loyal as all hell. He's skeptical of any kindness. Especially from a beautiful woman," Johnny blushes, but doesn't care.

"Curly Bill Brocius is someone who can make you laugh when you're down."

You nod your head, showing you can picture that about the old rustler.

"He wants to settle down someday. He's talked about that. A part of him may be envious I'm seeing you." Ringo smiles. "He thinks he's a lady's man. And sometimes he does lay that old charm down. But mostly he's just as awkward as any cowboy." Johnny lets out a sigh. "He'll always have your back. He's damn loyal and he demands loyalty in return." Johnny adjusts himself in his seat. "I promise he didn't mean any harm."

"I've had my reconciliation with Curly Bill and he was quite the gentleman about it. In fact, I was surprised considering how gruff he was during our first encounter." You draw circles around your plate. "I'm glad he said something."

"Curly's not all bad. He's just got an odd way of showing his feelings." Ringo scratches the back of his neck. "He's someone I can always count on that's for sure."

"Sounds like you two are close," you say, playing with your pie slice, poking it with your fork.

"Yeah, you could say that," Johnny answers.

"This place. This territory. It's really not safe for someone like you." Johnny tells you while he's fumbling with the fork.

"I plan on staying," you tell Johnny. He nods.

"I believe that about you," he answers. "You're a brave lady. Coming out here by yourself."

"Josephine Marcus did it," you respond.

"She came with a theater troupe. And she's a whore." Johnny sucks back his whiskey.

"I..." Johnny says your name. "I'm sorry. You're a lady. I shouldn't talk like that. Josephine isn't a lady..." Johnny says, gazing out the window at the sound of his horse.

You lower your head. You've seen Josephine and how she vies for attention from the Cowboys. Although they enjoy the company of a beautiful and sophisticated woman, Josephine always seemed more childish; a woman who simply lives in the moment, waiting for the next big adventure...Or man to help finance her lifestyle even though her father often sent her money. Her appetite for the finer things hungered for lavish gifts, dresses and jewelry. Johnny notices the striking contrast between you and Josephine; Josie's goals include enjoying life and multiple relationships, sometimes at one time. You see the world through the lens of loss and longing. You long for the calm of nature, the babbling of a brook or stream, the way the sunlight dances on the water in the middle of the day. These things set you apart from women like Josie, who wouldn't want to waste her time hiking or reading about fossils like you do. You find joy in simplicity and Johnny Ringo adores you for that.

"Isn't she with Wyatt?" You inquire.

Ringo shakes his head. "I don't know. I think she's playing Behan and Earp. Although I'm no fan of the Earps, Wyatt is a better man than Behan. I don't dislike Josephine. I don't trust loose women."

You nod your head. You came into Tombstone alone and the rumor circulating included the fact that you didn't have a man at all...Or maybe the men of Tombstone just hoped that was the case.

Johnny sighs and looks at you. You're drawing shapes on the table with your finger, waiting for the awkward silence to end when you think of something to say.

"Are you planning on staying in town long?" He finally manages to ask.

"As long as I can. I'm lucky I got a place to rent at least. I was getting tired of staying at the hotel although it was convenient for work."

"As for me, I sleep under the stars like most cowboys," Johnny answers, almost embarrassed that he sleeps in a tent while you're renting a cottage.

"It's not that I don't or want..." He fumbles with his words. "I guess I prefer the open range to the confinements of a room."

"Well, if you're driving cows, you don't have a choice." You tell him.

"Yep..." He agrees, ashamed to tell you the cows he drives are stolen. He dismisses it for a moment, simply wanting to enjoy you and your company.

"It ain't all bad," Johnny says, wiping his mustache. "It's actually peaceful sleeping under the stars. Even when we got a bunkhouse, most of Curly's boys still prefer a bedroll out in the open."

"Well, I've certainly spent nights in the cold too. Especially right after the Yankees burned everything." You let out a sigh. You also dismiss your memory in exchange for some time with Johnny Ringo.

"Would you like another slice of pie, Johnny?" You ask.

Johnny looks at you for a moment, just taking in your beauty. "No, ma'am," he answers.

Johnny Ringo begins to feel awkward. He shifts in his seat. His eyes wander away for a moment and when they return to you, a sadness shows in them. Johnny lets out a long sigh.

You begin clearing the plates and tea cups.

"Would you like some more whiskey?" You ask.

Johnny nods.

"You're a beautiful woman," Johnny declares, feeling his face grow red from embarrassment.

"Thank you, Johnny!" You answer, feeling elated.

"Not just that." Johnny looks down at the empty shot glass. You fill it and he puts his fingers on the rim. "Thank you," he says sincerely and softly.

"You're welcome." You respond.

"Not just that. You're a special lady," Johnny contio, feeling a bit more confident.

You lower your head and chuckle.

"It's true," he tells you. He's tempted to reach out and take your hand, but doesn't want to seem too forward.

"Johnny, you too," you answer.

Johnny almost laughs out loud. "I don't feel so special," he admits.

"I reckon you don't think so. I can see that in your eyes, Johnny."

He quickly turns away from you, his shame falling over him. He rode with Bloody Bill Anderson and killed a Yankee soldier who was younger than himself. Ringo will never forget the sense of shame and sadness he felt when he saw that Yankee kid die. Johnny Ringo can feel his fear and guilt weigh down on him. So much so, he wouldn't be able to stand if he wanted to.

He was just a kid...Ringo thinks.

And Quantrill shouted for me to fire my pistol. I didn't care if I missed or what Quantrill would do as an admonishment for my bad aim...So, I fired it right into his chest. I swear I saw his ribs burst out! Ringo rages in his mind all while staying stoic...

He shakes his head. "I wasn't always..." He says your name, while he sucks back his guilt.

What did those Yankees do to you?! You scream in your mind.

Johnny starts to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He cannot comprehend why a woman like yourself works as a waitress in one of the toughest boom towns in the west. And why you chose to risk so much when you could be enjoying life with a husband who can provide you with everything you deserve.

Ringo shakes his head.

"A Union soldier came to our farm dressed in a Confederate uniform," you begin. "After we fed him, he revealed himself and proceeded to gather whatever he wanted from my mother." You gaze down at the table.

Johnny's gaze meets the floor and then he looks back at you. The way your eyes light up and the sweet smile on your face tell a different story. A story where none of those atrocious things happened to you... Because when Johnny Ringo looks at you, he sees the light in your eyes burn with a resilience he felt he lost.

"How'd you keep smiling?" Johnny asks. "Everyone I know is downright bitter. Having to start over so many damn times." Ringo clears his throat. "No offense, ma'am." His gentlemanly manner shows at that moment. His respect for you is so strong, he doesn't want to cuss in front of you!

You smile and begin to move your hand towards his. When you touch his hand, he quickly jerks it away, his feelings of inadequacy keeping him from enjoying this moment. He sees the look of disappointment in your eyes and he curses himself.

"I didn't mean anything, Johnny," you say, your voice is full of genuine concern.

He shifts again and looks down at the table.

Johnny sighs. He doesn't feel worthy of your touch...

Curly Bill wouldn't hesitate with you, Ringo thinks. If old Curly knew a lovely lady like yourself showed any interest, the old rustler would be laying on the charm!

"I've taken up enough of your afternoon," Johnny says, slowly getting up, feeling the sting of being forced to leave your presence.

"No, please stay, Johnny," you plead, that genuine concern he loves in your voice.

Ringo looks at you and can't believe someone so special would desire his company. He lets out a small, but hopeful smile.

"You don't give up easily, do you?" He asks, almost smirking.

"No," you answer. Then you shake your head. "I'm a rebel like you," you say softly.

"Reckon that's something we have in common!" Johnny answers, feeling slightly more comfortable.

You reach your hand out and this time he takes it ..

He can't believe how soft your hands feel in his rough and calloused ones. He recalls the time he enjoyed intimacy with you and he can feel the tugging of his shame on his heart.

You pour two glasses of whiskey and you lift your glass and say, "here's to you, Johnny Ringo!"

Johnny smirks and takes a drink. Then he lifts his glass and says, "here's to the most beautiful woman I've ever met." He clinks his glass and sips his whiskey, wishing he never said that.

Johnny Ringo begins to feel tipsy. He worries he may lose control with a woman like yourself. Because he can feel the effects of the rotgut whiskey, he starts to fear he will quickly lose control. He clenches his fists and tries to regain his self control, all maintaining a stoic demeanor.

"Johnny," your voice is full of sincere gratitude.

"It's true. I can't imagine why you'd want to waste your time with someone like me." Johnny finishes his whiskey and glances out the window. He's torn between wanting to leave and feel the safety of solitude and the other part of him wants to take you in his arms and kiss you...Then make love to you. He wants to feel your body trembling against his while he brings you pleasure. When he visualizes having you in an intimate setting, he becomes overwhelmingly aroused; he also experiences a strong sense of shame for seeing you in such an intimate setting.

Johnny stands up and barely manages to release the words:

I should go...

You stand in front of the Shakespearean quoting gunfighter. You're no stranger to adversity and as a proud Confederate, you saw your world sink to its knees and everything your family built dissolved in just a matter of hours when those dirty Yankees plowed through the villages.

Your eyes lock with Johnny's and the two of you move close. Johnny Ringo pulls you close and lifts your chin. He slowly and smoothly with the overwhelming touch of a gentleman kisses you.

You wrap your arms around him the two of you fall into a sweet embrace. Johnny sees a million stars while kissing you!

For the first time in what seems like forever, Johnny Ringo feels a peace wash over him; the dam that blocked his heart breaking down from your genuine love for him. When the two of you pull away, his eyes lock with yours.

"You're something else, you know that?" His soft voice flows through your welcoming ears.

An overwhelming sensation floods your soul and you find it difficult to speak. "Johnny," you whisper.

Johnny says your name while he removes a strand of hair away from your face.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he says softly, kissing your forehead.

"I think I should head back before Curly Bill's crew starts wondering," he says with longing in his voice.

"Please don't go," you plead.

Johnny sighs, feeling his manliness throbbing. All he wants to do is make love to you, but he's torn. His tendencies to value women creeps in and he refuses to treat you like a chippie or a prostitute. He would like to plan a special encounter with you that includes the respect you so richly deserve.

Johnny looks down at you.

"I promise I'll be back." He says firmly. "And," he begins, holding his hat in his hands. "If you see me on the street, you don't need to talk to me...I wouldn't want anyone thinking anything about you that isn't true." He looks down in shame. For you to remain discreet because of him causes him great discomfort.

"I'll be very proud to speak to you," you answer.

Johnny blinks, not believing your words...He stands and looks at you.

"You would?" He asks.

"Of course I would!" You respond with that smile he loves!

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Hi sincere question! What are careers in which I can specifically work with and help trans people?

I'm looking into becoming a gender therapist, but I'd love to know about any other careers to help trans people? Like I love doing hair specifically for trans women because they always get so happy about it, and I love when young trans people who are figuring themselves out talk to me about it and ask advice pertaining to transitioning or similar things. And once a young nonbinary kid hugged me because they had never met an adult they/them before. And that's the shit I love. Can I do that as a career?

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my September 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Godless, Graceless, and Young by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (110k)

Seattle, Washington, 1991

It takes a special breed to have a slacker persona and still be a millionaire rockstar. Harry is about halfway there. He's the guitarist in a Seattle grunge band that could finally be headed somewhere, but he's also been sleeping on his bassist's sofa for the last three months and has been fired from every day-job he's had. Money doesn't equal success, but it does pay the bills.

When a job offer and a new lead singer stumble into Harry's life, he might be getting a lot more than he bargained for. Like a couple of extra gigs and a boy who can teach him more than just how to mix a few drinks, and it's gonna take a few band brawls and a whole lot of heart-searching to get there.

He's gotta have one somewhere...

Coax the Cold by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (86k)

England, 1897.  

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Late Nights and Good Intentions by princelouisau / @princelouisau (71k)

“About last night,” Harry says suddenly, as if he’d been debating on whether to say anything. Louis whips back around to look at him.

“Do not finish that thought,” Louis says just as abruptly.

Harry looks at him oddly, as if assessing him. With a small frown, it seems the assessment is over. “I only wish to say that you do not have to dwell on it. The rest of the men will surely forget by tonight.”

“And you?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. “Will you forget?”

“I will remember every second of it fondly,” the Lord says, no trace of a tease in his words. or, a Victorian era au where Louis pines for his overprotective older brother’s very charming best friend.

For You, I Would Ruin Myself by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (54k) WIP

It was the perfect last day of summer. They built sandcastles, wrote their names in the sand, and caught crabs, which they eventually let go when one of them pinched Louis and he was near tears. Afterward, they swam in the ocean, splashing each other playfully before moving toward one another in sync, lips pressing together in sweet kisses. When their skin turned prune-like, they returned to shore, laying out on their towels beneath the bright sun, snacking on fruit and chocolate while talking about everything and nothing.

At some point, Harry had shared, “I think this has been my favorite summer yet.”

“Why’s that?” Louis asked, a smile peeking out as though he already knew. He looked so pretty and cool with his sun-kissed skin and black Ray-Bans covering his eyes.

Harry rolled over on his towel until he was half-pressed against Louis and placed his palms on top of Louis’ chest, tucking his chin over them. “Because I had you.”

or

Harry’s unrequited crush on Louis turns into a whirlwind summer romance, only to leave him heartbroken in the end. Years later, a return to his hometown forces Harry to confront his past and the one person he was running from.

Tarnished but so Grand by tilthesundies / @tllthesundies (32k)

Louis hides in places. Harry always finds him.

I'll Be Your Love Tonight by dinosaursmate (20k)

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to walk away from you.” “So don’t.” Harry ran a fingertip over Louis’ thigh. “Stay with me.” - It's the summer of 1999 and Louis Tomlinson has been abandoned at a house party. A dispute over Smirnoff Ice and several night buses later, Louis is unsure how he'll ever walk away from this lovely, curly-haired boy.

Green in the Morning and Blue Afternoon by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (14k)

“Harry,” Louis whispered beside him.

Harry hummed, his hand coming up to stroke Louis’ back. Louis was still on top of him, his body sagging against Harry’s, heavy and warm, and Harry loved it.

“I don’t think it was a one off.”

“Me either, Lou.”

or a Friends AU.

A Few of My Favourite Things by sweariwouldnt / @sweariwouldnt (8k)

Harry and Louis do cat sitting.

[mustainegf]

hii I love your account and I love that you write for both of my boys so many accounts just pick one but they’re both so cute.

I was wondering if you can write Dave Mustaine as a dad, you always write him so sweet and excited to be a dad I just wanna see him once the little one is already born and maybe through their milestones. he def cries for their first day of school.😭🖤

YES!!! DAVE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD :(

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁴

I don't think I could ever forget that first time when I saw Dave holding our baby boy. His hands, furious on stage, were so fragile then. Our precious boy had just come into the world, and Dave was looking at him, knowing he was the only thing that mattered. From that moment on, I knew he would be the best dad he could be.

Dave's always been protective, even before we had our son. But when that little boy came along, it was like Dave's heart cracked wide open. He wasn't just Dave Mustaine anymore. He was a father, and everything else seemed to take a back seat.

I remember the moment that our son uttered his first word. It wasn't "Dada," as Dave had been hoping. No, our little one, big, eyed and curly red haired, just turned to me and said, "Mama." The expression fell off Dave's face, and then he just laughed. He pulled our boy up into his arms and said, "You've got good taste, kid."

From then on, Dave became even more involved in every little milestone. The day our son learned to crawl, Dave would lie down on the floor with him, pretending to be a tiger or some sort of monster. Our boy would laugh so much he would fall over, and Dave would pick him up, telling him what a brave boy he was.

Then came the first steps. It was Sunday afternoon and we were in the backyard. Dave was teaching our son to kick a little ball when, all of a sudden, he let go of Dave's hand and took two wobbly steps toward me. Dave's eyes went wide and for a second he looked like he might cry. "Did you see that? " he asked, beaming. He ran over, scooped our son up in the air, and then started spinning him around, as if he'd just won some kind of award. "You're walking, buddy! You're walking!"

As the years passed, Dave was becoming clingier. Sweetly so, but you could just tell he simply couldn't stand to miss out on one thing. I would tease him a lot. "You're more nervous than I am," I'd say. And he'd just smile and say, "I want him to have everything I didn't."

Then came the moment when our son had to go to school. Dave went into a mini meltdown. "What if he's not ready? What if the kids are mean to him? " he'd pace the living room, and I'd remind him that our son was resilient, just like his dad, but Dave continued to fear. It was honestly quite cute.

The morning of his first day, Dave insisted on driving him. I'll never forget the look on his face when our boy waved goodbye from the preschool classroom door. Dave tried to smile, but once we were back at the car, he wiped his eyes and said, "I just want to keep him safe." School was an adjustment for all of us.

"Oh, sweetheart..." I would coo, reaching to wipe his tears. "He's gonna be just fine."

Our son loved it preschool, but Dave missed having him around all the time. He'd come home after a day on tour and immediately ask, "Did I miss anything?"

I'd tell him about the little things, how our son was learning to write his name or how he now had some new favorite dinosaur. Dave would always feel like he was missing something. I knew he really didn't like being away from the house for too long.

One night, I entered our son's room after he had already gone to sleep and found Dave seated on his bed. The tooth our boy had just lost was the prize clutched in his hand, just after replacing it with a 1 dollar bill under his pillow. "He's growing up so fast," he whispered. He stroked a hand over our boy's red hair, and for a second, he was vulnerable. A side of Dave you knew you were special to get to see it.

"I feel like I'm missing it..." But Dave wasn't missing anything. And when he would go on the road, he'd call every night, wanting to hear about our son's day. He listened to stories about kids on the playground and homework struggles, always encouraging, always proud. And when he was home, he made it a point to attend everything, big or small. Whether it was a school play, a soccer game, or sitting on the couch watching cartoons, Dave was there.

Then the teenage years came, and along with them, the first heartbreak. Our son had his first crush, a sweet girl from his class. They went on a couple of 'dates', and Dave was in his glory. He'd give our son little pep talks about how to be respectful and kind to a lady. But that girl broke our son's heart, and Dave was furious. I had to restrain him from marching over to her house to give her a piece of his mind.

"He needs to go through this, Dave," I said. "It's part of growin' up." Dave shook his head, his fists clenched. "I hate seeing him hurt." I brushed his thick red hair away from his face and looked into his eyes. "We can't always be there to protect him. He needs to learn this world on his own."

That night, Dave sat with our son in his room, the two of them alone. I stood out in the hall and didn't feel like intruding, but I could hear them talking. "You'll be okay," Dave was saying. "I know it hurts now, but you're strong. You'll get through this. Me and your mom are here." I heard our son sniffle and then Dave, in his most tender voice, reply, "I'm always here for you, buddy. No matter what."

As the years passed, Dave never let his guard down. The year our son was to fly out of the nest to college, Dave just could not seem to let go, wanting to make sure that our boy had everything he needed. He spent days packing and unpacking his things, then rechecking everything three times over.

The morning we dropped him off at the dorm, Dave hugged him so tight, I thought he might not let go. "You call me if you need anything," he said. "Anything at all."

Our son smiled, rolling his eyes a little but hugging Dave just as tight. "I will, Dad. Don't worry." We were driving away, and Dave didn't say much but had his hand on the dashboard with fingers tapping nervously on it. For quite some time, nothing else was said, until he finally turned to me and asked, "He's going to be okay, right?"

"He'll be more than okay," I told him. Dave nodded, but wasn't satisfied. He always wants to do more, be more present. But our boy was all grown up, and Dave had to learn to trust he had done enough. Sure enough, Dave still phones him every chance he gets. And when our son comes home on holidays or breaks, to Dave is like it's the best present.

He's everything I could have ever hoped for in a husband and father, sweet, protective, and yes, sometimes a little too clingy. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

[toulousewayne]

Batfamily Shenanigans:Head-canons Pt: 2

Dick and Tim have the most inside jokes,Jason ignores them and Damian is but jealous. But the two bonded a lot before the arrival/return of the other two.

Jason takes his little brothers to Diner’s at 2 am. Alfred would rather he do it during regular hours,but then he remembers they’re nighttime activities and is just happy he’s not trying to shoot them.

Talia before having Damian loved seeing a young Dick Grayson as Robin.He was so full of cheer and it warmed Talia’s heart, she hoped to have a son as bright as him. (She did he’s just a little shy)

Cass doesn’t have her drivers license and prefers to be passenger princess.

Duke has naturally curly hair but cuts most of the time for easier management.

Jason can mimic voices the best. He can do a pretty decent Bruce Wayne impression and it has made Bruce ask his children multiple times if he sounds like that. Alfred gets a chuckle out of it too.

The Robins most definitely play pricks on JL members who annoy their Dad, that’s there job. Hal goes to pay his bills and all his passwords have been changed, Oliver is getting dressed for a party and all his clothes are pink.

Bruce is a big baby when he’s sick. He cannot find for hisself and his family take turns caring for him. Jason makes him soup, Tim gives him medicine, Damian and Duke make him rest, The girls block him from working on cases files and Alfred makes sure he has plenty of fluids. And if that fails they call in the big guns. Diana.

Speaking of Wonder Woman, she visits the Manor every Sunday and her and Damian feed and pet his animals.

Tim,Jason and Dick all have “R” tattoos. Dick promised Damian he could get on when he turns 18, and they let Damian sketch it too.

Dick’s is on his right hip, Jason’s is on his left wrist, and Tim’s is on his right ankle.

Stephanie and Selina are tied for the most ear piercings.

Jason is the only former Robin who can drive stick currently. Dick hasn’t done it in years but probably could after a few lessons, Tim never learned, Damian can but prefers not to. Jason is currently teaching Duke and Steph and had regretted it ever since.

Alfred enjoys making lunches for everyone still. Some days he gets to make everyone lunch. He first makes Damian(PB&J with crust cut off, and cut into triangles) and Duke’s(Ham and cheese toasted sandwich with pickles slices) school lunches.

Bruce usually leaves for the office before breakfast so when Tim eventually comes downstairs Alfred will have his breakfast Togo and both their lunches. (Usually for B it’s a BLT with turkey bacon and cheese. And Tim’s is Tuna and Swiss on whole grain bread.)

Dick on Tuesdays and Friday’s, sometimes Sundays spends the night the prior at the Manor. He’s usually the only home so Alfred can make whatever he wants for lunch. He’s top two favorite lunches are Janija one of the only dishes Alfred can make that tastes similar to how Dick’s Mom prepared it. And Bangers and Mash. When he first arrived he say Alfred eating this and wanted to try it. He always requests this dish,but only if he can eat it with Alfred.

Jason likes either Club subs or a simple pasta with fresh spinach and a cream sauce.

Depending on the day Alfred will drop off lunch to the Clocktower for Barbara and the girls. Sometimes the other birds are in town and he always knows when to make extra. Most of the times me it’s wrapped sandwiches a mix of cold cuts and vegetarian options. Barbara always get turkey with cheddar, Steph gets chicken salad on a croissant bread and Cass gets ham and cheese pinwheels.

He even makes weekly meals and drops them off for the Titans and Young Justice. Seeing as most of them cannot cook. He packs extra knowing their speedsters on each time. Looking at you Wally and Bart. They’re all just grateful they don’t have to eat Pizza or Big Belly Burger for a few nights. Dick enjoys when Alfred visits and so does Kory. Tim and his friends are over the moon to have Alfred visit them too, and Bart even makes request for his next meal.

The league even gets random lunch. They return from training and find fresh out meals at the sits. Batman just shrugs but Superman and Wonder Woman make him call Alfred so he can be thanked.

Sunday’s are days that’s it mandatory for everyone to come for dinner. Once a Month several members are the League are expected to come for dinner and everyone better be on their best behavior.No wants an angry butler, so everyone always attends.

Jason and Duke are the only people allowed to help with preparing food, Dick isn’t allowed because he sampled everything to the point he’s eaten half of the dish. Tim and Damian are assigned to setting the table. And Bruce must stay either in the living room or dinning room if Alfred even hears the grandfather clock tick he’s going to skin a bat.

Cass enjoys getting ingredients from the fridge and pantry for them. And Stephanie is on Bruce Watch, if he moves she sprays him with water like a misbehaving kitten.

Most the the time Barbara is greeting the guests and depending on is Stephanie is needed to help bring the food out Barbara will have Bruce greet everyone with her. She especially makes him greet Green Arrow and Green Lantern.

Sometimes Alfred asks other to bring dishes for a potluck.Clark will usually bring Jon,Lois and Conner with him and he’ll bring pies. Diana always bring Donna. Usually they bring wines and vegetables.Ollie and Dinah usually are late but the bring brownies and cobbler, Roy and Lian bring meatballs, Hal brings beer and he’s makes a mean Mac and cheese on his smoker, Barry and Iris bring sodas, Arthur provides fresh fish, and J’onn brings a tasty and beautiful charcuterie board.

It’s a blast and all the kids have fun too with their friends and Alfred swears he sees Bruce double over laughing at Hal and Barry fighting for the last brownie.

All in all the butler that would take on the entire League of Doom himself enjoys making food for his family and spending with them too.

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

My Ponyboy Headcannons

He’s really good singing. He doesn’t do it often or in front of people, but he’s really good at it.

He likes horror books but Darry doesn’t let him read them because he thinks they play into his nightmares 

His favorite color is purple 

His favorite soda isn’t Pepsi, it’s actually Dr. Pepper or Cola

Charlie Woods (from TWTTIN) actually knows Ponyboy very well, and would sometimes lets him bake rolls or serve tables at his bar before he died.

He has very curly hair and he’s very insecure about it. He greases it back before his brothers or the gang wake up so nobody sees it.

He has multiple scars on his arms from tripping, but they are very faint

He has so many freckles that, if you look at him from a specific angle, it looks like he has a tan.

He wears glasses

He LOVES physical touch, hugging people or wrestling make him very happy

He’s ticklish on the back of his knees but nowhere else.

He wears socks to sleep and everyone thinks he’s weird.

He got a secret job to help pay the bills.

He can either skateboard or bike 

He really likes listening to music, but not the kind that the gang blasts from the radio

Someone outside of the gang taught him how to drive when he was really young (11 or 12) but Steve and Sodapop seemed really excited at the idea of teaching him so he pretended not to know how to make them happy

He doesn’t want to go to college, but decides to go anyway because Darry and Sodapop want him to.

He has tons of school friends and sometimes hangs out with them outside of school

He loves sweet and salty food

He got bullied a lot in middle school and gets bullied high school but never told anyone

He can’t fight as well as Dally, but he’s braver and more loyal than anyone else.

He’s always hated his hair color, almost as much as his eye color.

He’s a clean freak and probably has OCD (if he and Sodapop didn’t share a room, Sodapops room would be a mess)

He has ADHD but it’s less severe, that’s why he always has his head in the clouds

He has panic attacks all the time

He loves putting a smile on peoples faces

He draws as if Da Vinci’s soul has possessed his body 

He extremely photogenic to the point it’s actually terrifying 

He’s HIGHLY allergic to dust mites or mold

He doesn’t get sick that often, but when he does, it’s bad

He hangs pictures of the gang and his friends on the wall of his room

He can do a perfect handstand

He’s really small for his age

He has a softer version of Georgie Cooper Jr.’s voice

He buys small gifts and leaves them at his gangs doorsteps or mailboxes without a note so he can get the genuine reaction to the gift instead of the faked one.

He likes driving at night with the windows down and radio on

He’s more of a cat person than a dog person

His mom nicknamed him after something like: Daisy, Strawberry, Bambi, Colt, or anything else along those lines

Every single bad note that he’s ever gotten thrown or passed to him in class he’s kept in a folder so that he can light them on fire when he graduates

He wears tons of jewelry 

He grew up with the mindset of “Johnny is the baby, not you” so if he and Johnny got jumped or hurt together, he always made sure to focus more on Johnny than himself

He’s has tons of awards for track, spelling bee’s, art contests and more hidden in his closet

He has a diary 

He gets jealous when he sees other people get picked up from school by their parents or older siblings

He can change his personality depending on who he’s hanging out with

He will constantly apologize to teachers for “Wasting their time” he if he accidentally turns in an assignment a few hours late

He’s never gotten detention before

[pumpkinsy0]

2000's AU where Curly did what my older brother and his dip shit friends did: participate in the Jackass MTV competition where they had to send in their best prank/fail video for a chance to be on an episode.

Tim comes home one day is pouring himself a cup of coffee and he hears Curly scream upstairs "My Name is Curly Shepard and this is my Jackass entry video!" followed by a very loud and very painful sound of Curly falling down the stairs in a failed attempt to slide down them on a toboggan sled, flying forward and breaking his nose.

Tim waits 30 minutes before taking Curly to the hospital to teach him a lesson. Curly not being picked hurt worse.

he heard that thud and nearly cried, not bc curly was hurt but bc he knew that hospital bill was gonna put him closer into the grave and even thats not cheap

he thought that injury would surely get him on but him not being picked is probably for the best, bc years later he will NEVER escape that video and neither will tim or angela😭

tims just surprised curly didnt go down the roof in a shopping cart if anything else

[azures-bazar]

Gang members (Arthur, Sadie, Charles and Mary Beth) reacting to their fem S/O who is Turkish. How they react to her language, culture, beautiful olive skin and brown curly hair, golden honey eyes and teaching them about her culture (food, music, arts, belly dance, etc) and she shares her culture and language with the rest of the gang aswell! Also how they would defend her if anyone was ever racist towards her! 🥹❤️✨🥰

Headcanon - Turkish Beauty - Female!Reader

Hey there sweetie ! Thank you again for your request ! + Javier ! 💖

I'm sooooo sorry if it took me so long ! As you know, my life now mostly consists in my job lol (and in the family I'm currently building).

This headcanon was hard to write since I know very little about Turkish Culture in general. At least I tried, any corrections are welcomed !

I tried making it as accurate as possible (but ended up creating a rather weird mixture between Turkey and Ottoman Empire, since it's supposed to be 1899 lol). If anything is offensive towards the Turkish culture, just let me know and I'll either edit my mistakes or completely delete the headcanon !

Request : Female!Reader

Characters : Arthur Morgan, Sadie Adler, Charles Smith, Mary-Beth Gaskill + Javier Escuella

Relationship : Romantic, settled

Lines : About 9 per character

A/N : The Reader is Agnostic !

Arthur Morgan : 

Let’s be honest : Arthur doesn’t know much about what is outside America (and perhaps Tahiti). When you tell them you’re Turkish, he is a little confused. "Wait up, ain’t Turkey a large bird ?" is the very first genuine question he asks when you talk about your country. After you explain him a few basics, he profusely apologises for his mistake, telling you his just a "dumb cowpoke", which he isn’t. He’s just clumsy.

You wear a nazar as a necklace. Arthur is curious, often asking you about the meaning of this beautiful eye-shaped pendant, staring at its dark blue, white, light blue and black colours. When you explain its use, Arthur is even more curious, asking you if he can have one for himself. "Maybe a nazar can be a lucky charm for me too, so the Pinkertons won’t ever find us !". 

On some occasions, you can be heard talking to yourself in Turkish, either when you think out loud or when you’re a little pissed with folks like Micah or Bill. Arthur doesn’t show it, but he’s thrilled when he hears you talk in Turkish, finding it beautiful. As he often says, he can barely speak English, but he still tries his best to learn a few words while listening to you !

Believe it or not, but Arthur knows how to count up to ten in Turkish. He made this surprise to you while the two of you were in his tent after a long day on guard duty. "Hey, listen to that, bir, iki, üç, dört…". You were so amazed by it, listening to his raspy voice and heavy Southern accent when he tried his best not to mess up ! When you asked him how he learnt how to count in Turkish, he just told you he has his own "sources".

Yes, he indeed went through your belongings to snatch a book written in Turkish. Still, how he managed to translate Turkish words into English is an absolute mystery even Arthur himself can’t really explain. He isn’t as dumb as he believes he is, him trying his best to learn a few words in your language is a proof of his hidden intelligence. 

At some point, you tried your best teaching Arthur to say a few basic sentences, such as "benim adım Arthur". Your favourite Van der Linde boy struggled a lot, but was indeed thrilled to make you even a little happy. Arthur is not as fast as John when it comes to learn things, but he is definitely devoted to whatever he does. And your proud gaze is absolutely worth any single grammar mistake (which might also be heard as a potential ancient invocation due to his mispronunciation) he would make. 

In case you’re being harassed by anyone, Arthur is very quick to jump in and defend you from all these folks causing you harm. Since it’s the United States in 1899, many folks are just blatantly racist. If you’re a few feet away from him, he will proceed walking towards you and wrap his arm around your shoulders. "Get away from my girl, I doubt ya wanna have a hole in your head, partner." is what he often says to calm things down. If it doesn’t, the situation ends up in a fist fight which often results in the two of you having to run away because Arthur "unexpectedly broke someone’s skull". 

Arthur is absolutely in love with your looks. Each time the sun shines on your face while you’re both around camp, he will proceed caressing your olive skin. And when your golden eyes meet his, he nearly faints due to your exquisite beauty. Your eye color is so unique that he can’t avoid blushing a little whenever you’re looking at him. A few pages of his journal are dedicated to you, as well as some drawings. He loves describing your golden eyes in his journal, comparing them to the sun. You are the light of his life, literally speaking. 

Each night, Arthur runs his fingers through your thick brown curls, slightly brushing them away from your beautiful face. You’re one of the most beautiful women he had the opportunity to meet, and your natural beauty made him fall in love with you on the day Dutch had brought you to camp. But don’t worry ! You’re so beautiful that he falls in love with you every day, even if he’s too proud to say it.

Sadie Adler : 

For some reason, Sadie somewhat knows more about the world’s geography than the rest of the gang. She can’t forcibly place countries on a map, wherever they are republics, kingdoms or empires, but can actually tell that there is a huge continent across the Atlantic Ocean. So, when you tell her you’re from beyond the ocean, Sadie is indeed quite curious ! 

Sadie loves listening to you when you’re talking about your culture. She just sits there with starry eyes, gazing at you whenever you talk about its traditions. She is indeed fascinated by it, it feels so mystical compared with the life the Van der Linde gang is currently living. Having you tell stories about your country or about your culture and beliefs is certainly much better than Dutch’s speeches about freedom and MONEY.

She is pretty much your personal bodyguard whenever you’re alone. She knows you know how to fight, but she just loves you so much… and even ends up wanting to know more about Turkish fighting techniques. "How do folks fight in your country ? Like us ? Or do they still use swords ?". Her question seems pretty innocent for a woman who went through so much, but you don’t mind. 

You eventually end up telling Sadie about the Ottoman Slap, which is one of the Ottoman martial arts. "I wanna try it, I wanna try it !" is the very first thing an excited Sadie tells you when you explain her that it implies using her hands. You don’t even have time to explain anything to her that she is already on her way to give Micah an absolutely massive slap.

Sadie loves being around you when you do to town, and is quite protective towards you for a variety of reasons she can’t even explain. So, when she hears a few folks criticise your looks, your skin or your clothes, if not even your origins, she is quick to get into a violent fight and, quite often, wins it. Sadie even tries doing the exact same Ottoman Slap you told her about, but is likely to take out her guns to finish a fight if the situation goes worse. 

You two have fun altering Mr. Pearson’s stew with a few ingredients which match the Turkish recipes you have collected in one of your books upon traveling to the United States. Sadie loves the Tavok Sote, which is a Turkish chicken stew, and is even willing to chop vegetables for you, something she wouldn’t have done for anyone else. She just wants to spend all her free time with you, even if, as she says… she "ain’t gonna chop vegetables for a living". 

Sometimes, when she is on guard duty, Sadie will just slightly turn her head and look at your for a few seconds, analysing your beauty. Your black hair is often beautifully tied in a braid, your nazar bracelet hangs on your wrist, your colourful dresses make you look divine. She loves you, and if you pass by her while she is on guard duty, she will gently stroke your chin. "Here’s my beautiful balım." she would say before dropping a kiss on your lips.

At some point, after you told Sadie about belly dance, she is excited to learn it from you ! The very first time she tries it, she laughs as the feeling it gives her. She is not used to it, but absolutely loves it ! You like seeing her so happy to try new things, and can’t deny you did not expect her to enjoy belly-dancing this much ! She isn’t really good yet, but she really tries her best to impress you ! 

Sadie tries really, REALLY hard to learn a few words in Turkish. She already knows how to say some sweet words, like "balım" or "güzelim", and… a little set of swearwords. In fact, whenever you swear in Turkish, you can hear Sadie repeat the word after you, even if you told her you would rather want her not to say any swearwords in a foreign language. 

Charles Smith : 

Charles is well aware about the countries surrounding the United States, such as Mexico and Canada, and knows a little about Europe due to him listening to Herr Strauss. He is very respectful towards you and asks a few questions he repeated to himself a few times. Charles doesn’t talk much, and each word he says are filled with a wisdom a very few 28 year olds have. Needless to say that, compared with John who is just two years younger and eager to ask foolish questions, Charles just thinks twice before saying anything.

Charles is, again, the quiet type, except when he is drunk or around Javier and Arthur at the saloon. And he is even more quiet whenever you’re talking about your culture by the fire. He just gazes at you with starry eyes, interested and fascinated by your country's customs and traditions. Charles doesn’t interrupt you, he doesn’t want to spoil your stories with his questions. He will have all the time he needs to ask them after you will finish. 

If he is on guard duty with you, there is a huge chance that Charles will likely end up asking you some details about your country. "What do Turkish people eat ? How do they fight ? How do they talk to each other ?". He is curious, and just wants to be around you, and only around you, to ask his questions. Even if he only answers with a soft smile whenever you answer him, he is so thrilled to learn new things. 

The simple presence of Charles near you is quick to make people shut their mouths whenever they want to insult you. Charles, being himself a man of colour, as the son of a Native American woman and an African American man, knows what it feels like to be downgraded due to the colour of his skin, especially in 1899. If he sees anyone offend you, he will just stand before you and calmly tell people of. "Please, leave this lady alone.". If it doesn’t work, after a few good punches, he will take you to someplace safe, apologising for all the mess he is not even the responsible of. 

When he has the opportunity to rest, which is often rare since he is one of Dutch’s strongest men, Charles just enjoys gazing at you. He loves the way you look, the way your beautiful hair flows around you whenever you make even a subtle movement. But what Charles loves the most about you is your voice, and how beautiful it sounds whenever you speak to yourself in Turkish. 

Charles doesn’t speak much, but he secretly mumbles each word you say in Turkish, and sometimes asks you what you just said means. He then proceeds repeating the same word once again. "Did I say it right ?" is the question he asks you the most whenever he tries talking to you in Turkish. He does his best, and it's a beautiful thing to watch. His smile in the end is worth it ! 

Like many folks, Charles is not indifferent to your golden eyes. Whenever you’re close to him, even if it’s already clear that the two of you are in a very stable relationship, his heart beats faster and his eyes twitch a little, he even blushes and stutters at times ! You, Y/N, are the only person who can make Charles Smith loose his words whenever he is around you ! Charles even commented your eyes more than once. "So your parents put all the gold of the world in these eyes of yours.". That’s quite a compliment ! 

You managed to bring up a Hookah with you, and a lot of gang members often ask you if they can use it. Charles was very curious to try it at first, especially knowing that you can sometimes combine the effects of tobacco with other plants. You made him try a mixture of regular tobacco with vanilla flowers, and Charles surprisingly loved it. "Damn. I like it. I like it !". It was probably the very first time you saw Charles so happy ! 

Charles loves laying next to you whenever people are already asleep or far enough from him, his head either on your thigh or on your shoulder. He knows that you will naturally start singing. You can’t resist singing a few beautiful Turkish songs you know, especially with Charles being so close to you. "It’s beautiful, breathtaking." he often tells you between two songs. 

Mary-Beth Gaskill : 

Mary-Beth is quite aware of where Turkey is located, having red so many books about everything, and not only romance books as Ms. Grimshaw often says. She is thrilled to meet anyone who is not from the United States or from America in general, apart from Herr Strauss, indeed. But a woman like you is more interesting than an old loanshark ! 

You tried making a lentil soup based on what Mr. Pearson had in stock, and it made Miss Gaskill happy. "It’s peculiar and so different from Pearson’s stew ! How did you manage to do it ?" she asked. Mary-Beth barely knows how to cook, but is interested by your Turkish cookbook you brought with you upon being inducted into the gang. 

Sometimes, Mary-Beth daydreams while listening to your stories about your country. She just pictures so many people wearing bright colours, women doing bellydances while men are trained to fight. Mary-Beth is quite a romantic and re-interprets your stories inside her head, but genuinely likes asking questions about your culture. "What does a Turkish marriage look like ?". You try your best to answer, making Mary-Beth’s eyes get filled with stars. 

When the two of you are in town, you often get a side-look from passerby because of your origins. Mary-Beth is eager to fight for you, quickly taking your defence if someone tells you something inappropriate. Even if she knows how to fight, the two of you most likely end up in trouble if many folks try attacking you. But Mary-Beth is courageous enough to defend you, telling people off and throwing a few more or less impactful punches if needed. You two can’t even count the number of times you ended up at the Sheriff’s Office after a fight, having Dutch, Hosea or Arthur bring you back to camp. But a good fight was worth saving your honour. 

Even if you told her about henna and its use on very specific occasions, Mary-Beth is eager to try some on herself, on Tilly or on Karen, and even on Arthur who just grumbles when he sees her drawing figures on his wrists when he’s around camp. She doesn’t care about the fact that henna figures she made on herself is a temporary tattoo, she just loves it so much and is very skilled !

Mary-Beth loves reading, and it’s no secret for anyone. So when she genuinely asks you if she can borrow one of your books and read some pages out loud, you can’t say no. You just love listening to her when she tries her best to read some Turkish words properly with her sweet voice and adorable accent, and she loves the way you look at her and how proud you are whenever she tries either reading something out loud, or talking in your language. 

She likes asking you if she can borrow your dresses. Her favourite is a traditional Turkish gown you brought from your country, white and red coloured, with a matching headscarf. Mary-Beth loves it and often likes putting it on whenever she knows you will be around camp. She respectfully wears it and twirls around with it, thrilled to wear something as beautiful as a traditional Turkish gown. She sometimes digs into your jewerly, but you don't mind much.

When you told Mary-Beth about belly dancing, she was eager to give it a try ! Despite she did not know much about this dance or about the moves, looking a little uncomfortable while trying her best, she just gave you a rather nice performance, which was both funny and adorable. You fell for her as much as she fell for you. Between two moves, she even got to stroke your olive skin while blushing, which made you love her even more than ever !

She loves brushing your hair. It’s so thick and beautiful, she loves running her fingers through it, or combing it to create the most perfect hairstyles which could fit you on a daily basis. Mary-Beth loves you enough to compliment you anytime she tries something new on you. After all, you’re so beautiful ! So, mesmerising ! She keeps reminding this to you almost three or for times a day ! And this even in bed…

Javier Escuella : 

Javier is definitely smart enough to say that Turkey is a part of the Ottoman Empire as of 1899. He is genuinely curious about everything, and loves asking you so many questions that you sometimes end up struggling to find a correct answer. "What are your people doing when they’re angry ? How tall is the Ottoman Empire ? Are all Turkish women as beautiful as you are ? What music do they play ? Do they believe in god ?". Many questions, too many. 

You don’t know how he managed to do this, but Javier has, very soon after you were inducted into the gang, tried talking to you in Turkish. Since he already speaks English and Spanish, he is willing to learn another language, just for you ! Javier tries his best, he really does. He even repeats the words after you whenever you correct him, and often compliments your language. "Ah, Turkish language is quite beautiful, mi amor ! Hard, but wonderful !". 

Privately, between two trees, while the rest of the gang was having fun by the fire, you showed Javier how you belly danced. He is absolutely not familiar to it, but spends his time gazing at your moves, at the way you shake your hips, the way you twirl at times. He loves it, and even ends up asking you if men can try doing it too ! He is genuinely interested, which is a pleasure to see ! 

Javier is often lost into his deepest thoughts when looking at you. Your golden eyes make him loose every word, even his most romantic ballads can’t express how smitten he is to you. He often tried singing about it, playing his guitar by the campfire, but nothing can describe the "hermosa chica de ojos dorados." that crossed his and the rest of the gang’s path. 

Whenever you’re out, Javier doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second. Sometimes the two of you get side-looks from people seeing two non-white people just enjoying their day in 1899. Javier doesn’t usually jump into fights and tries his best to tell people off. However, sometimes, random folks don’t cooperate, and it ends up in a brutal fistfight. "You won’t ever insult my girl again, puto !" Javier usually says when his opponent is either unconscious, or dead. He won’t let anyone insult you. Never ! 

When you joined the gang, you had a few belongings coming from your country, among which a few musical instruments such as an Oud, a Kaval and a Sipsi. Javier taught himself to use the Oud, pretty proud of himself whenever a nice melody was coming out of it. "It’s as easy as playing a guitar, but the sound is so beautiful !" he always says whenever he plays it… when you don’t play it yourself. 

Sometimes, when you’re the one playing some Oud, you like singing a few ballads from your country. Javier loves listening to you, often getting distracted if he is on guard duty. Your voice is so beautiful, so mesmerising ! Enough for him to loose the track of time whenever he listens to you. He usually doesn't understand your songs, but genuinely loves them ! 

At some point, only to make you a rather nice surprise after you went back from a robbery with Dutch and Micah, Javier decided to sing a personal song just for you, playing the Oud, while Uncle played the Sipsi, and Lenny used a barrel as a drum to add some rhythm. Javier just wanted to make you happy, especially after a robbery with your absolute friend Micah Bell. "Look ! Look Y/N !" he had told you, so excited. The song was in Spanish, played with two Turkish instruments and a barrel as a drum, but it was awesome ! 

Sometimes, late at night, when the two of you are nearly asleep, Javier usually tries his best to mumble you some sweet words in Turkish, running his hand through your black curls while gazing at you with a loving smile. He just loves making you happy, and knows how excited you are whenever he tries speaking your language. "Seni seviyorum, mi chiquita.". A rather peculiar mixture between Spanish and Turkish, but very sweet !

[ckret2]

drew a Goldilocks!

I hope that when his hair grows back Mabel teaches him the Curly Triangle Method for hair care

Look at him! He's beautiful! And deeply irritated to exist in his current state, as he should be!

I had a long weekend, didn't register fast enough that "curly triangle method" was a joke on "curly girl method," and googled curly triangle method to see if it was some luckily-named similar curly hair care technique I hadn't heard about yet; and got a bunch of search results like,

Google, you fool. Triangle hair is exactly what he wants. (Really funny to discover that his IDEAL hair style is actually IRL called triangle hair and is considered a "problem."

Given his disconcertingly vast knowledge of human culture, Bill probably knows—theoretically—how to make curly hair look "good" and "healthy" by human standards. (It would not be surprising if he had some hand in "wouldn't it be really funny to market shampoos designed for straight hair to people with curly hair to make their hair worse and make them need more shampoo?") Unfortunately... hair care requires hair touching. So he's probably gonna settle on a modified curly girl method: "feign incompetence until the nearby curly girl says 'I can't take it, sit down and let me comb that out.'"

[punkstarlet]

Fallen Stone: The Archangels

The next day

Shilo opened a small locker, reaching in and pulling something out. In her hands, she held a neat set of mail. As it turned out, Shilo was inside a mailroom for workers like Shilo and Trixie. She had just finished grading her students' work and was about to head home for the weekend.

She went over her mail, groaning as she saw nothing but bills that needed to be paid and junk mail for charity and donations. She tossed the junk mail in a recycling box and headed out the mailroom with her bills.

Shilo left the school grounds, heading down the street to her place. She was exhausted from grading and an extended weekday of teaching. She was looking forward to a weekend of catching up with her reading and setting up a date for her and Michael; she just hoped he wasn't too busy from his duties as Heaven ambassador and working alongside the archangels.

While still in her thoughts, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. It caught her attention, turning around and finding no one but herself alone. She let out a shrug, continuing her way.

Another tap on the shoulder, and she whirls fast to catch the suspect. But she couldn't find a single being in her presence. She growled, annoyed. "If this is a prank, it's not very funny." 

"No pranks." A voice answered from above. 

She gasped, turning around and looking up. Floating upside down before her is an angel with soft skin, freckles on his cheeks, and light golden curly hair. He has a pale teal star on his forehead. His eyes are light teal, with a lighter teal halo over his head, and he is wearing a short robe of white and gold, teal pants, and golden sandals with wings on them. In truth, he could be mistaken for Hermes, the Greek god of messenger, if it wasn't for the six pairs of wings behind him in white and pale teal. And he was smiling down on her with a grin. 

"Gabriel. You know how I feel about you sneaking up on me." Shilo told him, placing a hand on her hip while glaring at him.

"Oh, come on, snowflake." Gabriel grinned. "Nothing wrong with having a little fun." His wings flapped, levitating him upside down. 

"Fun? Is that what you call it?" Shilo asked him. "I'm not buying it." 

Gabriel pouted. "You are no fun." 

She only rolled her eyes, clearly not being fooled. Gabriel does have a knack for pulling pranks on her and his brothers. She has gotten so used to it that she knows best to be wise around him. "You didn't come here to poke fun at me, did you?" She questioned him. 

"Aw..you don't trust me?" Gabriel asked, giving her the puppy eyes he knew would captivate her. Only she raised an eyebrow, with her arms crossed against her breasts. 

"fine.." He groaned, seeing his fun had been spoiled. "I liked you better when you were crushing on Lucifer." He turned his body around, pulling him right side up, and landed on the ground, facing her. He cleared his throat. "The archangels required your presence in the court of heaven." He informed her with a severe tone. 

"Why?" she asked him. 

"I can't say," he responded. "But I can promise you you are not in trouble," he added. 

"Well, that's good news." She huffed out. "Thank you, Gabriel." She thanked him. 

"Anytime, snowflake!!" His grin returned. His wings spread open, and he took off into the sky. 

Shilo has her bills teleported to her place so she can deal with them later. She spread her wings, flew in the sky, and headed to the angelic court building. 

~*~

She landed by the entrance with grace. She walked inside, finding angels were busy with their work, making appointments, and taking calls. She approached the front desk, where an angel with two wings, blue hair in a bun, and dressed in white with a silver halo on top.  

"Ah! Shilo!" The angel Belle welcomed her with a smile. "Welcome! How can I help you?"

"Gabriel sent me his message," Shilo replied.

Belle nodded, knowing what she meant. "Oh! Right. He told me that." She responded. She took out a clipboard with a quill. "I just need you to sign here, and I'll let the archangels know you arrived." 

Shilo signed her name on the clipboard. She could feel a smile on Belle's face and responded with a smile.

Then she headed to the waiting room, sat in an empty chair, crossed her leg over the other leg, and waited patiently for her name to be called. She watched several angels waiting like she was, most likely having an appointment with the seraphim angels. Shilo leaned against the chair and crossed her arms.

In the corner of her eye, she spotted a pale white angel with short white hair, a black halo over her hair, yellow eyes, black and white wings, and dressed in a short gray dress, white gloves, white boots, and black stockings. Her eyes widened in surprise and anxiety, and she recognized this angel.

"Oh no.." She whispered. She quickly grabs a magazine on a table by her side, opens it, and covers her face to avoid being spotted. She folds her wings back, trying to have that angel's sight off.

But sadly, the angel was approaching her. She stopped an inch from her, with her hands behind her back and glaring down at her with a cold glance. "Afternoon, Ms. Winterstone." She greeted her with a cold voice.

Shilo lowered the magazine, revealing a much colder glance than the angel before her. "Lute." She glared at her with an icy voice. It's much more icy than Lute.

Lute leans down, face to face. "I'm surprised to see you here. Shouldn't you teach little brats of Heaven's history in your school?" She asked.

Shilo put the magazine on the table, not taking her eyes off Lute's. "I was taking a good break until I got a requirement from my boyfriend," she replied, showing no weakness. Lute has a certain aura that Shilo was never fond of; she has hated her since she arrived in Heaven years ago.

"Probably to tell you you should be doing your job." Lute snarled.

Shilo stands up, glaring up at her. "I am doing my job, Lute!! Unlike you, I enjoy my job! I got a good pay! A good home! And a good love, too!" She shouted. "What about you!? What is it that you do that you work for a living?!!" She questioned her.

Lute remains still as a firm statue. "I'm a soldier for Michael." She answered an answer that didn't seem right.

"Funny." Shilo has her arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at her. "Cause he never told me he used to have soldiers back then in his time as heaven's former knight." She pointed it out. She had never, once in her life, ever heard about Michael having soldiers before.

"Perhaps he knew you were a nosy little rebel," Lute claimed.

That made Shilo mad. A third eye opened on her breasts, with crystal eyelashes and two pairs of eyes on her halo. "Hey! I was naive!! I was a fool too in love!!" She yelled at Lute, and a patch of frost formed between them. "So don't you dare tell me like you knew me!! I know better than you do, back when you were just a mortal!" she added.

Before Lute could argue back, Belle called out. "Shilo Winterstone. The archangels will see you now."

She glared at Lute, hinting that they were far from over. She left the waiting room and entered through the open door, waiting for her. The door slammed shut, making an echo that flinched her. Shilo straightened herself, dusted off her outfit, and perceived ahead.

She enters the courtroom, where six archangels sit in their respective places. 

In the middle, Michael. His outfit changed to a suit of blue and white and a long trail coat. By his side are Uriel and Raphael. Raphael wears a blouse, a green vest, brown pants and black shoes. Gabriel is with them, sitting by Raphael and another angel with a golden tan, long golden wavy hair, light green eyes, a light pink star on their forehead, and a pale pink halo over their head. They are dressed in an open pink blouse, revealing their chest, white jeans, and white shoes. Their wings are white and pink in six. Jophiel is their name. By Uriel’s side is another angel; his skin is gray-white, and he has dark brown hair, grayish teal eyes, a gray star on his forehead, and a gray halo over his head. He wears a black hooded robe over his dark teal suit, and behind him are his six wings in dark teal and white. He is Azrael.

All stare at her, keeping their eyes on her. She stands in the middle, hands behind her back, and her wings fold back.

“Afternoon. You require me?” Shilo asked.

Raphael nodded. “Yes. You are correct.” He answered. 

“Glad you can make time for us,” Uriel exclaimed.

She smiled softly. “Well, you have been training me since I was made.” She explained. “Made me who I am today. I always made time for you.”

Jophiel grinned, placing their chins on their hands. “You are such a sweet little blue star.”

Shilo smiles at their comment. She composes herself, remembering what she was called for. “So? What do you wish to talk to me about?” She questioned them. “Gabriel told me I am not in any trouble.” 

Michael huffed, cuffed his hands together, and leaned forward. “Emily came to us and told us your aura was... sad," he explained. He was staring at Shilo intensely. “Like she feels that you were unhappy about something.” He added.

Shilo let out a groan. She realized her former student had gone to the Archangels out of concern. She knew her so well, but she should have taught her about respecting others’s privacy issues. “I didn’t want her to be so worried.” She responded. “It’s my issues that are mine to deal with. It’s not her business to get involved.” She added.

“But she was your student,” Azrael spoke, quiet and raspy. “You know she always looks up to you about all the events you’ve been through.”

Gabriel nodded, agreeing with him. “And she was only concerned about you. And... we are concerned as well.” He implored. “We all care about you and have wanted to help you since Lucifer’s banishment with Lilith.”

Hearing the name ‘Lilith,’ Shilo felt a rush of rage and vengeance in her. She still hated her for taking Lucifer from her, and even after eons, her vengeful feelings towards Lilith have not been quelled. Her rage made her release the frost that started to cover the floor, and snow fell out of nowhere, making the room cold. She was snarling, and her eyes were farrowed.

“Ah! Shilo Winterstone!!” Uriel shouted.

She snapped out of her mind, blinking. She took a deep breath, calming down as the frost melted and the snow disappeared. She frowned at the six, ashamed of herself for acting like this.

“Sorry... I forgot how angry you get around... her.” Gabriel apologized. He had nearly forgotten Shilo gets angry when someone mentions Lilith.

“It’s fine.” Shilo sighed, head bowed down. “Sorry..”

Uriel raised an eyebrow. “Is this about our talk yesterday?” She asked her.

Shilo grew silent and did not answer him, confirming his question. Her mind was still on her desire to leave heaven and perform her miracles on earth. 

Michael glared dangerously at Shilo as she bowed her head down. They were so close to keeping her bound to heaven’s ways, to blocking her curious nature. But her duties as a virtue still hold on to her like a snake coiling tightly on its prey. He placed his hands down before letting out a sigh. “Angel… Earth is filled with nothing but death and corruption. You are still innocent and still full of life.” Michael reasoned with her. ��If you go down there and see the bad in humankind, you would lose sight of what God gave you.”

Shilo raises her head, staring at the six. “But I’m not naive; I’m wiser now and won’t be easily misled again.” She told them, a pleading look in her eyes. “All I wish for is one day on earth; see what happened there. I promise to return.” She cuffed her hands together, almost begging them.

“The answer is still no.” Raphael sternly told her. “Your place is in heaven, with us and the heavenborns.” He added.

Shilo lowers her hands, feeling like all her dreams are gone with one harsh word. She frowned sadly. “Right…” She bowed her head, looking down, and her wings lowered in sadness.

Michael sighed, standing up from his seat. “I think that’s it for today.” He proclaimed. He is putting an end to their meeting.

The other five nodded, all flying away and out of the courtroom. All that is still in is Shilo and Michael.

He approached her, stood before her, and frowned. It hurt him to see her so crushed and lacking in motivation. He placed a hand on her chin, tilting her head up, and made her look at him. “Angel,” he began.

Shilo just moved her head away from his glance. “I know. I am selfish thinking about leaving.” She sadly lamented.

“No, no. Don’t say that about yourself.” Michael shook his head, then pulled her into a hug. “We are trying to protect you, to help you have a better life.” He proclaimed, having her stare at him. “When you fell apart, it was painful to see you so vulnerable and helpless. To see you losing sight of yourself.”

She sighed softly, staring into his eyes. “I would have been so empty without you.” She responded. It was true in her mind; she would be so lost without him.

Michael nodded back, smiling down at her. “I would have, too, my angel.” He leaned down and kissed Shilo on the lips. She kissed him back. He pulled away, placing a hand to stroke her cheek softly.

“Young child with dreams. Dreaming each dream on your own.” Michael sings to her. He slowly lowers his hand, staring into her eyes. “When children play. Seems like you end up alone.”

He took both her hands, holding them up. “Papa says he‘d love to be with you if he had the time.” He sings, opening his wings wide. “You turn on the only friend you can find. There in your mind.”

He flew up the ceiling, and she followed. “Shilo when I was young. I used to call your name.” He continued singing to her. “When no one else would come. Shilo, you always came. And we’d play.”

The two floated in the air, circling as their wings held them up. “Young girl with fire. Something said she understood.” Michael leans close to her and places his hand behind her hair. “I wanted to fly. She made me feel like I could.” 

The two started dancing together, with her hands on his shoulder and his hands placed on her waist. “Held my hand out, and I let her take me. Blind as a child.” He put a kiss on her forehead. “All I saw was the way she made me smile. She made me smile.” 

He used his arms to pull her close to him till her breasts were pressed against his chest. “Shilo, when I was young. I used to call your name.” He placed his forehead against hers. “When no one else would come. Shilo, you always came. And you’d stay.”

He then released his arms around her, letting her go. He watched Shilo fly higher to the ceiling. She raised her hand, and a small cloud appeared. Soon, snow fell down softly. He smiled at how much Shilo had been improving herself with her powers. 

“Had a dream, and it filled me with wonder. She had other plans.” Michael sings as he watches her create snow clouds with gentle snow. “Got to go, and I know that you’ll understand. I understand.”

He frowned as the snow started falling on him. A wave of guilt enters his mind. “Shilo, when I was young. I used to call your name.” He floated back down on the floor. “When no one else would come. Shilo, you always came. Come today.”

In the ceiling, Shilo was smiling at the snow she had created. She was so proud of her work that her smile softened a bit. Too bad the mortals won’t get to see her miracles.

“Shilo," Michel called to her. She looked down to see Michael already on the floor. The snow faded away, along with the clouds. She floated back down, landing by him.

Michael huffed. “I must go back to work.” He told her. “Take care of yourself, my little angel.”

“Will you be available for our date tomorrow?” Shilo asked.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you to let you know.” He added. He smiles softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Shilo smiled back. She kissed him on the lips, which kissed her back. Then she pulled away and left the courtroom, leaving Michael alone.

After a while, someone appears from the shadows, hands behind her back. “Does she know?” Michael sighed, hearing Lute’s voice from behind. He turned around, facing her as he mirrored her position and put his hands behind his.

“No,” Michael answered. “I am ordered to make sure she stays in the dark, even if it means lying to her.” His voice softens. 

“You’ve grown soft.” Lute hissed. 

“Said you, you’ve grown hard from all that extermination,” Michael responded snarkily. He shot her a harsh glare. “We can’t allow any more sinners, and keeping Lilith away only dims overpopulation.” He approaches her, staring down at her. “Keep the extermination going for another year.” He ordered her. 

“Yes, Sir Michael.” Lute nodded, understanding his orders. She left the courtroom. 

Michael turns his focus to an empty floor; it doesn’t seem much, but he can hear the memories of Lilith’s voice echoing inside his head and seeing the blood on the floor. He glared, hateful. “You’re wrong, you temptress. Hell will fall, along with you and your sinners.” He spoke harshly, almost like talking to a ghost from long ago.

[curlysgirl0202]

CURLY BILL WANTS TO SHOW YOU HOW TO SHOOT! HEAD CANNON STORY:

Curly Bill is a sharp shooter. He can hit rabbits running (which he stops when he finds out how much you love the little creatures), he can shoot a cigar when it's hanging out of someone's mouth and he can fire his pistols and blow the flames off candles. In short, the guy is great with his guns and can twirl them with ease.

Although you hate guns, he desperately wants to show you how to use one. Not only because it's one of his favorite things, but it is a chance to dazzle you with his remarkable skills and to teach you something since he always seems to be learning from you! So, one day while the two of you are walking through a secluded area outside the cowboy camp, admiring a blanket of wildflowers that decorate the ground and you're shaded by the large Palo Verde trees that frame the vast Arizona landscape, Curly decides it's time to show you.

While slowly walking, you suddenly see a large rattle snake; it's coiled up and ready to strike you! Of course, Curly Bill seizes the opportunity to come to your rescue so he can impress you. He has dealt with these desert creatures before. He pulls his six shooter and the legless beast is scattered and although the noise almost split your eardrums, you can't help but be very appreciative of his gallantry.

You hug him and he is instantly filled with pride and feels similar to a knight who just slayed the dragon for you.

"You alright," he asks, running his fingers through your hair. You smile and nod while he caresses your face.

"You sure are pretty," he says, taking his hat off and wiping his brow.

"Thank you. Just for you," you answer, your voice trembling.

He beams with pride, flashing his signature smile.

"Let me show you how to shoot," he says.

You shake your head.

"Come on," he answers, his voice just above a whisper. He hands you his pistol and is taken aback by how sweet you look, holding the old rustler's gun.

"Ok...What do I do?"

He chuckles and says, "well, fire it." Then he winks at you. You accidentally point it towards him and his eyes grow wide with concern. "No, pretty!" He puts his hands up.

"Fire at them trees over yonder."

You fire the gun and the bullet goes straight to the ground. He laughs and claps.

"I can't do it like you can." You say shyly. He feels proud and excited.

"Keep trying. Five more shots." You empty his pistol without hitting anything but the ground.

"Three cheers for YN!"

You give him a kiss on the cheek and despite his hot blooded tendencies, he can feel his face grow red from blushing.

[txmbstone]

Thank you for your writing!!

Can you do Ringo and Curly Bill first date with reader?🙏

ahh of course! this would have been out sooner but the holidays got the better of me lol

Curly Bill Brocius

This man is excited

He’ll go on for days leading up to the date all the ideas he wants to do with you

It takes Ike nearly bashing in his skull for him to settle down and really think

While he’s the life of the party, he wants something for just the two of you. He can get very possessive when he wants, and he doesn’t want to leave anything to chance, especially when it comes to his future relationship with you

So he opts for a picnic out in the country. He picks a few small things up from a shop and maybe a bottle of whiskey (or wine, if you prefer) and takes you for a trail ride

The whole way he’s pointing out the animals you two encounter, and tells you the time he mistook a Gila Monster for a Longnose snake and nearly got bit. He’ll point out the kinds of flowers that grow best in the spring after the thaw, and which plants heal sunburns best.

When you arrive, you see that he’s taken you to a small little spring tucked away in the mountains, where the both of you listen to the water and get to know one another better

Johnny Ringo

He chooses quieter locations, but knows with his reputation it’d be best for your peace of mind to be out in the open

He takes you a quiet little restaurant on the edge of town, just far enough out not to have Cowboys hounding the both of you constantly, but close enough you feel like he isn’t going to just up and have his way with you (as if he would ever do that, his mother would rise from her grave and beat him with a wooden spoon)

Dinner’s a teasing affair. While he’s with the Cowboys, Johnny’s usually reserved and quiet, never speaking unless spoken to. But with you? On your own? The man’s an absolute tease. He’ll pick tables that are just a little too short and will playfully grab fistfuls of your clothing and run it between his fingers just to watch you struggle to keep your composure. He’ll teach you phrases in Latin and sport the biggest grin when he translates the naughty sentence and watch your face burn bright red. It’s all in good fun, though. If he notices you aren’t comfortable with it, he stops

After dinner he’ll take you on a walk, and the two of you will point out the constellations you see

[mixes-archive]

I just saw your recent post, and you said you wish people would request other characters, especially fem characters, so it’s my time to shine🤩. I would like to request a NSFW fic with "Kleo" from COD; she’s an operator. I don’t have any specific ideas for the plot, so you can go crazy! I really wish people would write for her more.

Kleo x fem! Reader NSFW

Tags: p with a little bit of plot, mild angst with lots of fluff, making out, miss girl is unable to keep her hands to herself, fingering and oral (both reader receiving) and breastplay

Dear Gods I need this woman I need her I NEED HER TO CALL ME HER LITTLE PRINCESS AND RUIN ME WOOF WOOF GRRRR BARK WO-

I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Your home felt emptier without her, no matter how many pictures of you together decorated the walls or how much exorbitant furniture filled every room. Dancing makes you feel just a little less alone, or maybe that’s just the shadowy figure watching your performance?

It was always quite lonely without Kleo around. Of course, she’d warned you about this multiple times before getting into a serious relationship with you, but you hadn’t thought much about it back then.

It didn’t make you think less of her, not at all! But you just wish she’d be here a bit more. Of course, when she did get time off, it would almost always be a few days at least, which you always made sure to keep free.

But it had been two months. No visits, no calls, no texts. Just a monthly check, making sure you didn’t have to bear the burden of bills alone.

You were scared to check your mail now. Every time a call came in, you were scared this would be the one. Some of your older neighbors had talked about it once they found out about Kleos job, warning you of the heartbreak that came with it.

,We’re sorry miss, but unfortunately Kleo…‘

No. You couldn’t bear to think about it. By now you should know not to underestimate your girlfriend like that. Still, you needed something to drown those thoughts out.

Where most would’ve reached for alcohol or drugs, you reached for an old, beat up and sticker covered iPod. Kleo had gifted it to you on your first birthday together, you still have it after all these years.

Memories of her teaching you how to put music on that damn thing made you giggle as you connected it to the speakers in the living room. They were massive and yet another gift of hers. This one she gave you because ,she felt like it‘.

Everything just reminded you of her. Even the music.

You played a song you danced to together at one of her many family gatherings. It was slow, and now that you’re actually listening to the lyrics, also a bit sad. How ironic.

Yet you found yourself getting lost in it. Closings your eyes and rhythmically spinning to the music, magically avoiding every piece of furniture that could stand in your way. You had the steps memorized, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4, back and forth and back and forth.

You could almost see her dark, curly hair bouncing with every step or how her bright green eyes attentively followed your every move.

Around halfway through the song, tears started to form in your eyes.

Around the end, when the orchestra was dying down and the vocals repeated, until they slowly melted away along the rest of the melody, a pair of arms wrapped around you. Ones your knew all too well.

„Amazing performance, κούκλα“

„I thought you were dead.“

Kleo wrapped her arms around you, her abnormally tall stature leading to your head falling into her neck. She kissed your temple.

„But I’m not. Let’s dance a bit, yeah?“ It was an order more than a question, her hands weaving into yours while spinning you around to face her.

Had she not looked so exhausted, you would’ve likely forced her to talk about what happened. But those bags under her eyes and the fresh scars on her Face told you all you needed to know: ‚I physically can’t talk about it right now.‘

Along with the next song, you both swayed and span, bumping into significantly more furniture than you did on your solo performance. It made you both giggle every time.

Not many words were exchanged during the whole ordeal, not even when her hands dipped to your hips and lower back. Kleo tended to get a bit… touchy whenever she returned from missions.

It was nice. To have her warmth back after all this time had finally stopped your racing brain and intrusive thoughts. You were the first to stop dancing, choosing to embrace her instead. The laugh she let out at that made her chest rumble, and yours with it.

It didn’t catch you off guard when her hands moved to your ass, slowly massaging the soft flesh between her calloused fingers.

„God I missed this.“ She let out a dramatic sigh and let herself fall onto the couch, taking you down with her.

„So you do only love me for my ass! How superficial of you! And here I thought you liked me for my charming personality…“

„Shut up and kiss me you goofball.“

You did just that and gods… did it feel right. That missing piece was finally back. Your house finally felt like home again.

Her lips were just as soft as you’d remembered. She must’ve taken your complaints to heart last time she came back with cracked lips and actually continued to use the chapstick you always had to replaced for her.

She licked at yours lips. „Cherry?“, she asked. „A bit cliché, don’t you think?“

„I know it’s your favorite so shut up.“

To hear her laugh again, so unbothered and loud as always made your stomach fuzzy, or maybe that could’ve also been her hands on your thighs.

Kleos strength always shocked you, especially when she flipped you over without any type of warning. Her arms trapped your head beneath hers.

„Hey there gorgeous!“

„Do that again and I just might die of a heart attack.“

„Oww nwooo, want mwe two kwiss it betta?“ She mocked you, but you didn’t have the strength in you to send a snide remark back. The look she was giving you told you that one, you should shut up, and two, that you either back out now or get fucked so hard you can’t walk even after she returns from her next mission.

You weren’t a pussy, so you smashed your lips into hers. Immediately, she returned the kiss with just as much force. Kleo pried your lips apart with her tounge and you gladly let her in.

Just as you really started to get into it, she pulled away. A string of saliva connected you together for a second more, until it broke.

Her hands reached down to your shirt, carefully unbuttoning it.

„No bra? What a nice surprise.“

„Wasn’t really much of a point in wearing one if there isn’t anyone around to protect them from.“

„How rude. I always treat you boobs with utmost respect.“

Your mention of how she tended to do the exact opposite was cut short by a breathy sigh. Her lips connected to your nipple and suddenly you realized that sexual gratification of any kind other than this would take another eternity to achieve.

Once she sucked on your nipples, it would be impossible to get her off. You were almost convinced she thought that milk would come out of them if she tried hard enough.

Despite your complaints, she was damn good at playing with your breasts. Harshly biting, then softly licking over your tender flesh. Neither of you could ever get enough of it.

Soft moans left your mouth as her tounge rediscovered your chest. You had been deprived of this sensation for so long, it made it feel all the more intense. Your hands could never even hope to compare to the gentle way she licked around your areola, only to then aggressively attacked your nipple with sucks and bites. The other was always treated just as well with her hand, massaged and fondled with in ways that had you seeing stars.

It hadn’t been that long, yet you were already melted into the cushions below you, unable to let out anything other than „I love you“s and garbled versions of her name. Kleo could come from the look on your face alone, begging her for more as she slowly let go of your breasts.

„Let’s move to the bed, yeah? Makes for easier cleanup.“

The wet blanket of a human that was you got picked up by her strong arms. She carried you upstairs and gently dropped you onto the bed without breaking as much as a drop of sweat.

Almost teasingly slow, Kleo removed all your clothes down to your panties, only pausing briefly when she realized they were one of her pairs. A smirk made it’s way to her face as she, even slower than before, removed the last bit of cloth on you.

„I’d say you missed me.“

„You really think I’d miss you?“

„Would be a bit weird of you to soil my underwear if you didn’t atleast somewhat like me.“

Even if you had a response to that, your need for some kind of physical attention was absolutely killing you. You grabbed one of her hands and put them on your body, signaling to her that she should shut up and get on with it. But alas, she was still a tease to the core.

„Be a good girl and tell me how much you missed me.“ Lord knows you would’ve smacked that grin off her if you could, but you had long melted into her unmoving hand. Left with no choice, you followed her orders.

„I thought of you every day.“ Kleo smirked and started massaging your hips.

„Sometimes, I would wear some of your clothes.“ Her hands moved down lower.

„I had to hug your pillow to sleep well.“ Ever so gently, she was prying apart your thighs.

„I tried, but no matter how big or expensive the toy, I couldn’t get off without you.“ That seemed to do it for her.

Large, calloused hands massaged your thighs, as she moved to be in between them. Her eyes were all over your body, as if studying a map.

„You poor thing“, she cooed. „Didn’t have an orgasm for a whole two months?“ Although her tone was teasing, she truly did feel bad. A whole two months would be absolute torture for her.

„I came to the thought of you squirming under me almost every night. God you made my fingers cramp up so much.“ Her voice was dropping lower and her giggles seemed almost sensual as she moved her head towards your pussy.

„My poor princess, I’ll make it up to you, alright? Just be good and let me hear your pretty little noises.“

Her mouth was on you before you could think and gods did it feel good. Her tongue gently licked at your clit, speed growing with fervor at every moan that slipped past your lips. The unholy slurping noises Kleo made would’ve made you giggle under different circumstances, but your brain had ceased all thoughts.

Occasionally, she would give your clit a break to stuff her tongue into your hole, licking your juices up as if her life depended on it. Every time she pulled out to catch her breath, praises of how good and how loud you were being left her, only to then immediately return to your body to keep those noises going.

Being depraved of touch for so long, you were already close to the edge, but then she added her fingers to fully concentrate her efforts onto sucking your clit.

Her fingers were rough, but your wetness more than made up for it. Effortlessly, she moved them in and out, a loud squelching sound coming with every thrust of her thick fingers into you.

Teeth were on your clit, biting down the tiniest bit, her tongue then immediately following after, gently caressing the small bundle until the only words you could form were „Kleo“ and „more“.

She thrived in your pleasure, looking almost as fucked out as you must’ve. Her eyes were dark and her face sweaty. Still, her relentless pace continued, finally giving you what you had craved for so long.

Your thighs clenched around her head as you felt your orgasm coming, and it made her pace even more brutal than before, fingering you at what should be impossible speeds while sucking on your clit much harder than before.

As it all got too much, you finally let go. Cumming on her eager tongue, she licked every last bit of your essence she could get out of you until you were wiggling away from her.

Kleo held eye contact with you as she licked her fingers clean, a lewd moan leaving both of you.

„Princess, why don’t you come back here? We got another 60 days to make up for.“

[erineverly]

piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

“You know, this might take a while longer than expected. I’m already falling behind and we’ve barely even started,” the curly-haired teenager protests with a sheepish smile, pale blue eyes glancing up at her ever-patient teacher and best friend — B.ill B.ailey. His strawberry-tinged bangs and emerald hues capturing her attention, inviting her gaze to linger on his handsome features, distracting her from the task at hand. These piano lessons were originally her idea, an excuse for them to spend more time together without raising much suspicion, but the song choice, Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley, is entirely on Bill. He claims it’s easy, the simplest of The King’s songs, but for Erin it’s just another distraction, really, as now she can’t help but wonder if… Well, there can’t be any hidden meaning to it, right? She gently shakes her head, pushing these thoughts away in an attempt to refocus. “You say that we start with a D major chord,” she speaks slowly, as if unsure if she’s repeating the very thing he’s just mentioned correctly, “but I don’t even know what that is. You’ll have to show me.”  

They’re seated in the pool of spring sunshine by the closed window in her mother’s living room. The past few days have been rather gloomy with heavy rainfalls and grim clouds, and so Erin’s thankful that there’s any sunshine at all, and by keeping the window shut and wrapping herself in a thick woolen sweater, she’s managed to create the illusion that it’s warming her. The room’s not particularly spacious, with a good deal of space taken up by the grand piano and a good deal more by a large, leather sofa and two recliners, but at least it’s cozy. Unlike any room at Billy’s house. It’s dominated by earthy color schemes, big, leafy plants and two mushroom-shaped lamps (her mother’s favorite), even the patterned wallpaper only serves to sprinkle a bit of charm to the place. Though, maybe it’s just the effect this boy has on her — everything seems more beautiful and magical when he’s around. “So… a D,” she lets him press her thumb against one of the white keys, her other fingers following, brushing against the instrument and creating a small symphony of not-so-sweet sounds, “F sharp and A?” She furrows her dark brows and lets out a shy giggle, embarrassed by her evident inability to repeat the seemingly simple combination. “Sounds less harsh when you do it.” Her hand slips from underneath his, her fingers finding their way on top of his, the butterflies in her belly dancing. “Do it again,” she asks sweetly, struggling to refrain from looking into these gorgeous eyes of his and losing herself.

Whenever Billy’s larger hand touches her smaller one, gently spreading her ring-clad fingers and guiding them to the right keys, a shiver runs up her spine and her face flushes a deep red. She could have asked her father to teach her. She could have asked her mother to find her a professional music teacher, not a delinquent from round the block, but again… She doesn’t care about learning quite as much as she cares about spending time with the Bailey kid. Standing at the kitchen threshold, watching the two with a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon in hand, Venetia’s figured as much herself — after all, her daughter’s seventeen and so maybe she should be happy that she’s finally developed a serious crush, but God does she wish Erin’s affections were directed toward someone else… That sweet boy who lives just down the street and always wants to hang out with her, whose father’s a high-ranking police officer. Or that dark-haired kid who’s a straight A student and plans on becoming a lawyer one day. Or that boy from California, her best friend’s son who’s a bit strange and surely smokes pot occasionally, but at least doesn’t have a criminal record. She shakes her head, telling herself teenage crushes come and go, and goes back to pouring batter into cupcake tins. “Kids, you better start wrapping things up! The first batch’s almost ready!” 

[icemankazansky]

Tag Game: Get to Know Me

Thanks for the tag, @brendaonao3! (Note for people who tag me in tag games: I love to be tagged in tag games, even though my typical response time suggests otherwise.)

Name: Carly

Pronouns: she/her

Star sign: Maverick sun, Iceman rising Sagittarius sun, Leo rising, Pisces moon

Number of siblings (+ any fun facts): One of each, both younger. They look like each other, but I don't look like them at all. (Oddly, my sister and I both look like our mother, but in different ways.) When my sister and I were little, my mom used to have to tell people that yes, we had the same father. (Bc people think it's fine to ask stuff like that? Also I have very curly hair, and it's a recessive trait that one person in every generation on my mom's side gets, but people are so weird about natural curls, and every new hair dresser I see asks, "Who did you get them from?" and a disturbing number of them have made jokes about my mother's infidelity and my questionable parentage when I inform them no, neither of my parents have curls. Who raised y'all?)

Number of pets & their names: Currently, I myself only have one animal, my dog, Elio. But 1. I am actively looking for another dog, 2. My family has a ton of dogs, and 3. We all volunteer for dog rescues (Yes, plural. My sister actually started her own 503c NPO rescue a couple years ago bc her own, like, extra credit financing of homeless dog medical bills was going to bankrupt her, so she had to start a charity so people could donate. She specializes in senior and special needs dogs, but works with local city and county animal control agencies so she gets a lot of breeder and hoarder surrenders, and subsequently ends up with, for example, 18 purebred Bernese Mountain Dog puppies several times a year.) The point is, there's, like, a whole lot of dogs in here.

Fandoms: They are legion. Mostly active in Top Gun rn. Again. Still. Still again.

Favorite song: They too are legion, but include Fiona Apple - I Know, Fleetwood Mac - Silver Springs, Hozier - From Eden, Lake Street Dive - Good Kisser, Bad Company - Bad Company, Natalie Merchant - My Skin. Lately, I'm listening to the following a very normal amount: Tracy Chapman - You're the One (it is Icemav af BTW check it out)

Favorite author: Fiction: Neil Gaiman. Nonfiction: Mary Roach.

Favorite fic type: I like established relationships, true love and people just enjoying each other, and happy endings.

Favorite holiday: Ugh I hate this. Um, New Years Eve.

Do you have a partner (romantic, qpr, etc)?: I already told you I have a dog. Nope.

Hobbies: Dogs, writing, art of various kinds (mostly drawing, some painting, and I am always trying new things like building a tufted headboard, teaching myself to sew, or making custom funko pops), gif making, Val Kilmer.

Fun facts about you: I've never had a cavity. I ran over myself with my own car. I can't figure out if I have 12 tattoos or 13. I can French and Dutch braid my own hair. My favorite perfume is Chance by Chanel, but I also wear Daisy by Marc Jacobs if I want something lighter.

[always-andromeda]

oh, my 'modern!au bill and frank raising a daughter together' emotional support daydream, we're really in it now 🥲

𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐚𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: uhhhhh...so I've never thought of this concept before but it made me so happy that I had to attach some of my headcanons onto it, I am so sorry, anon. but also, thank you, anon.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: complete fluff! nothing else I can think of!

❥ Having a kid is 100% Frank's idea at first. He drops little hints about it to Bill for weeks. It's a slow Saturday afternoon where they're watching a movie together when Frank says, "Today's the kind of day where I wish it wasn't so quiet in this house."

❥ And honestly, Bill interprets that as Frank wanting a dog. Which makes sense. Frank complains fairly often about little creatures getting into his fruits and vegetables in the garden and a dog could be perfect for taking care of that problem.

❥ So he'd surprise Frank with a puppy and says that he's young enough that they could train him.

❥ And Frank is quiet. He's excited, of course, and immediately falls in love with the little guy. How could he not?

❥ Bill notices that he's a little off and asks, "Aren't you happy?"

❥ "Of course I am. I just– I thought that we could talk about having a different kind of small thing to take care of..."

❥ Bill's eyes go wide as soon as he realizes what Frank is implying. Needless to say it takes a lot of convincing.

❥ At the end of the day, what really tips the scales of Bill's opinions is Frank gently telling him, "Listen, I know you think that you and I can take on the world all on our own. But we don't have to. I want a family with you. You and I have so much love to give. We deserve to be able to give it to someone."

❥ Veronica is about five years old when Bill and Frank adopt her.

❥ She's a quiet little girl with curly dark hair, hazel eyes, and freckles that are speckled over her tan skin. And as quiet as she is, Frank really helps her get out of her shell.

❥ He gets really good at braiding her hair, especially when he learns that those are often some of the best moments to really bond with her. He's one of the only reasons why her hair stays looking put together in the slightest.

❥ Bill has a harder time connecting with her. Where Frank isn't afraid to get on her level and really get hands on, Bill is utterly clueless.

❥ He connects with her more through music. He pulls out his old record player and cycles through the collection of records he got from his mother. Because of him, Veronica grows up on Linda Ronstadt, Joni Mitchell, Dolly Parton, Bonnie Raitt, and so much more.

❥ Before too long, both Bill and Frank really come to see her for the ray of glittering sunshine that she is.

❥ In their own ways, they do their damndest to make sure Ronnie's childhood is as stable as possible.

❥ For example, Frank is adamant that they never fight in front of her; he never wants to give her the impression that they're angry at each other or at her. He also wants her to go to a normal school and be involved in normal activities even though Bill sees all of those things as more trouble than what they're worth.

❥ As soon as Ronnie is old enough, Bill wants to sign her up for self defense classes. What good will chucking a ball or playing an instrument do in a life or death situation?

❥ So her activities during the day alternate between various martial arts classes and dance (dance was Frank's idea; just so she has a little bit of the arts in her life). 

❥ She regularly bounces around the house trying to teach her dads how to do whatever new fight or dance move she's learned in class. Frank loves that she wants to involve them. Bill, on the other hand, is on the brink of pulling a goddamn muscle but he smiles through the pain anyway because his participation makes his daughter happy.

❥ Frank is a complete soccer dad. He's at all the PTA meetings, volunteers for all the school fundraisers, and is donating supplies for the school all the time. He's the one who has their whole schedule memorized.

❥ Even though she's not related to either of them by blood, Bill is at ease when he notices that Ronnie has taken on Frank's sense of joy for life. And Frank has a good chuckle whenever she gets all grumbly and stubborn like his husband does. 

❥ Their house isn't perfect and there's definitely growing pains between all three of them, but they're happy. They're happy knowing that they'll all love each other for a long, long time.