#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!

Johnny smirks, still not believing the perseverance you've demonstrated. Most women wouldn't handle themselves with the grace and integrity you do. And to tolerate Curly Bill's harshness only to accept his sincere apology shows the depth of your care.

"That means a lot...More than you know. But for your own safety, be careful. They'll be plenty of folks out to tell you to stay away from me." His eyes grow sad again. He takes your hands and almost absent mindedly kisses them. Your heart soars. Then you take his hands and kiss his knuckles. He tries to pull away, almost in shame. His hands killed...His hands shoveled manure, robbed and rustled cows.

"You don't have to do that..." He says, his voice fading to a whisper. He pulls his hands away in shame.

"I want to," you respond.

He shakes his head while gazing at the floor.

"You're really special, you know that?" He finally says. "You really care, don't you?" Johnny Ringo feels a warmth flow through his body, so comforting, he feels unsettled and confused. His heart wrestles with the powerful emotions you stirred in him.

Johnny gazes into your eyes, the raw emotions flooding through him. He cannot recall a time when he felt safe, warm and welcome. He longs for your touch and the softness you demonstrate. He imagines touching your soft skin, letting his fingers explore your body while he takes his time soaking in your beauty, kindness and grace.

To your surprise, Johnny pulls you close, cups your face and kisses you passionately. You wrap your arms around him and the two of you become lost in the purity of the moment. He pulls away and kisses your forehead.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Johnny looks into your eyes with his intense gaze telling you if he stays, he may lose control...You nod. He mounts his horse, tips his hat to you and rides into town for some whiskey.

You look out the window and breathe in the fresh air. You ruffle your hair and smile to yourself. You embrace your small triumph that you got Johnny Ringo, the deadliest gunfighter since Cole Younger to drop his guard just long enough for a kiss. You can still feel his lips on yours and the softness of his mustache, the aroma.a of horses in his clothes and the way he looked into your eyes when he said, "thank you..."

You let out a chuckle to yourself. Then you head outside to take care of Daisy.

"Hey girl... Guess what?" You ask, nudging her nose. "He kissed me..." You brush her coat and change her water and spend the rest of your day off planting in your garden and doing laundry. All before you take a bath and prepare for your day back at work tomorrow.

While you busy yourself planting carrots, peas, potatoes, green beans and onions, Ringo walks with his signature gait towards the Dragoon Saloon.

"Evening, Ringo," drawls Crooked Jay while he fills glasses for thirsty customers.

"Whiskey," Ringo says, his voice just a bit lighter. Jay glances over, noticing the subtle change in Ringo's demeanor. "You're looking a little flushed, cowboy, what's with that? Better be careful you don't show it too much 'round here. Folks'll be wondering why you ain't somber." Jay pours whiskey.

"Nevermind, Jay" Johnny answers. "Just been in the sun too long."

"Zat so?" Crooked Jay answers, spitting on the floor. Ringo glances over. "There's a spittoon for that. You really gotta spit on your own floor?" Ringo shakes his head.

"Hell, it ain't no matter. Most folks miss that damn bucket anyhow. Ain't nothing..." His voice fades to a whisper while his greedy fingers grab the pennies and quarters Ringo put on the bar.

"Got a new chippie," Jay says, sticking a half chewed cigar in his mouth. He gnaws the cigar while he takes more orders for whiskey and beer.

"I ain't interested, Jay," Johnny answers, staring into his glass. He begins to feel that familiar dark sensation creep through his body like a damn curse. He lowers his head and remembers he didn't feel that darkness at all while with you...

"You ain't even seen her yet. Come all the way from New Orleans. That don't make no damn sense." Jay shakes his head.

Does it really show? Ringo thinks to himself...The time he spent with you clearly shows on his face. He cannot recall a time when he felt more alive than when he kissed you. At the same time, the last thing he wants is for folks to see him going soft. Enemies can sense when a man starts to lose his tough edge and nothing can weaken a man more than a beautiful woman...

"Aw, come on son," Crooked Jay answers. "Her name is Selena. She's been busy giving boys like you a taste of home sweet home. Hell, she'll make ya feel human again!"

Johnny sucks back his whiskey. "I said no, Mr."

"Suit yourself, cowboy. Y'all missing out!"

No I'm not... There's no one like YN..." Ringo says to himself.

Johnny puts a few coins on the bar, adjusts his hat and leaves. Your face appears whenever he closes his eyes. He smiles to himself while walking to the livery.

He saddles his horse and heads back to camp.

"There he is!" Ike Clanton drawls, stumbling, holding a bottle of whiskey.

Johnny dismounts at the picket line and moves toward his tent.

"You all done with that little cunt we saw earlier?" Ike takes another swig of whiskey.

Before Ike can say anything else, Ringo throws a punch at the smaller cowboy. Ike stumbles backwards. He shakes his head to get his bearings.

"What the hell that for?" Ike groans.

"You ever talk about her like that again, I'll kill you, Ike!" Johnny growls.

"Calm down, Ringo!" Ike snaps, holding his cheek and wiping blood from his lips. Billy Clanton rushes over and helps Ike to his feet. Johnny stands almost motionless, ready for a confrontation. Your beauty burned on his brain softens him minorly. He knows he can bust Ike up on Ike's best day.

"Go easy, Ringo!" Billy Clanton barks.

"Stay out of this!" Johnny grunts. Johnny's intense and dark gaze pierces both Clanton brothers. The boys back away, knowing how unpredictable Johnny can be, especially when a woman is involved.

Curly Bill, along with McMasters and Stilwell swagger over.

"What the hell's going on here?!" Curly Bill shouts.

"Y'all cool off!"

Johnny's eyes stab Curly Bill with such intensity, Curly Bill adjusts his hat and puts his hands on his hips.

Curly Bill signals for the Clanton's to back away, they retreat towards the chuck wagon. Stilwell and McMasters look at Curly Bill, curious as to how he'll handle the situation. Their gazes move from Ringo to Curly.

"That's what women do," Curly Bill begins. "Especially a beautiful one like her. They make a man lose his head real quick."

"Enough, Bill," Ringo answers. Without looking at anyone, Johnny heads to his tent. Thoughts of you whirl through his mind. He can see you eating pie with him, your sweet smile breaking his walls down and oh, that kiss! Johnny composes himself and retreats to his tent. He can feel his body throbbing and he closes his eyes while sitting up, looking out the open flap. He imagines you riding into camp and surprising him by sneaking into his tent. The two of you make love without guilt or shame. He can feel your warm body close to his and he knows he needs to relieve himself at some point.

When everyone is sleeping, Johnny begins to decompress his insatiable appetite. While he massages himself, he sees your face through a frame of exploding stars. He relives the moment of the kiss you shared before he feels an explosion of ecstasy. Johnny suddenly feels guilty for participating in such an act, but you have driven him to a place where he feels wonderfully helpless to stop your pursuit of him. He carefully cleans himself up and falls into a deep sleep.

The morning sun bathes you while you sleep and you stir at the sound of Daisy whinnying in her stable. You slowly rise and stretch, making some coffee and engaging in your morning routine.

After Daisy enjoys her oats, you brush her down. You wonder what work Daisy did before as quarter horses were usually for work; in fact they were favored by cowboys.

"It's happening, girl!" You whisper. Once Daisy is hitched and ready, you head to work for the breakfast rush.

When you get to work, you notice Big Nellie stroking the back of one of the customers while she helps herself to the leftovers in his plate. You roll your eyes and wonder how a woman could let herself go like that.

Fatty emerges from the kitchen, holding three steaming plates of eggs and hotcakes. He places the dishes on the table, mops his face with his apron and nods at you.

"Thank goodness you're here!" Fatty exclaims. "Been busier than usual! And of course Big Nellie does nothing! Nothing but eat the leftovers! She eats the free chuck and Emmett wonders "why am I losing money?!" Fatty shakes his head and scurries back into the kitchen. You put your things away and prepare yourself.

"What can I get you?" You stand before a group of men you're unfamiliar with.

"Name's Morton," one of the men declares.

You nod,. smile and take your pencil and pad out.

"What can I get you gentleman?" You ask, ready to take their orders.

"You can start by getting us some coffee! We'll all take the same. Three orders of steak , eggs, biscuits. We'd like some honey on them biscuits!" Morton demands.

You take their orders and head to the kitchen.

Fatty looks at the dining room. "Mary, mother of all that is holy!" Fatty grasps the necklace he wears around his neck.

Morton, the same man who helped LG Murphy shoot and kill John Tunstall. The man who targeted Tunstall's regulators after Tunstall died.

"What's wrong, Fatty?" You ask

"That man...He and LG Murphy destroyed Lincoln County," Fatty lowers his shaking head.

"I heard about that!" You respond. "Those bastards shot John Tunstall right in front of his Regulators! Then Billy the Kid went on a rampage with those boys."

"Yes. Haven't an idea why they're here in Tombstone when they should be in New Mexico!" Fatty answers, shaking his head.

"I just took their orders," you respond.

"I'll assist them, young lady," Fatty says, wiping his head with his apron. "Or Big Nellie. She don't seem to be afraid of anyone!" He finishes, fidgeting with the stings on his apron. You smile back.

"Maybe they'll be on their way. Stage comes tomorrow and the train leaves for San Francisco tomorrow afternoon."

"Quit jawing! Get our coffee, girl!" Dalton shouts in your direction.

Trembling, you return to their table. "Yes, of course!" You tell them.

"You forget already?" He fires at you.

"No...I just..."

"Well, quit that damn stammering and get back to work!"

At that moment, the jingle of spurs can be heard. You turn and see Curly Bill Brocius walking in, Johnny Ringo following closely. Billy Clanton strolls in with Ike behind him and McMasters follows slowly.

"Well,that ain't no way to talk to a lady!" Curly Bill growls.

Dalton turns to look at the menacing group of Cowboys.

"Name's Curly Bill Brocius. I run these boys and this damn town. This here is Johnny Ringo. I'm sure you heard of him, ain't ya?"

Dalton and his men freeze and look at each other. Coming face to face with Curly's Red Sash Gang causes the men to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

Johnny winks at you, letting Curly Bill handle the situation. He stands cold, calculating and eerily quiet, letting his stone cold expression, icy blue eyes and reputation do the talking.

Curly Bill tips his hat to you and stands confidently, his arms crossed over his chest as if daring the Dalton boys to do something.

"YN is a special lady around here. Just ask Ringo right here," Curly glances at Johnny who hasn't moved.

"We weren't bothering her none," Dalton drawls.

"That wasn't what I saw, boy!" Curly barks back. At that moment, Barnes and Stillwell strut in, Barnes, with a shotgun nestled in his shoulder smiles at the Dalton's and Stillwell stares with cold eyes.

Curly Bill looks at you. He admires your tough, yet gentle spirit. The way you remained stoic even when he behaved like a horse's ass. But Curly Bill Brocius values loyalty and you demonstrated that to him when you accepted his sincere apology without admonishments or harsh words. And how you clearly care about Johnny Ringo, one of their own. The Cowboys protect their own and anyone associated with them.

"Well, there's plenty of restaurants 'round here!" Curly Bill grumbles in a low voice. "Sides, this here is our table anyhow and YN always takes care of us boys! Y'all go on now." Curly Bill's voice carries a warning. "This ain't New Mexico, boy!"

The Dalton boys stand, clearly outnumbered.

The moment they stand, Curly Bill eases his form into the seat before the Dalton's reach the door.

Curly Bill smiles at you and the exchange between the if you shows that your safety is insured when they're around.

"You alright?" Johnny asks, concern in his voice. He puts his hand on the small of your back. A desire to fall into his arms overwhelms you. You gaze up at him. "Thank you," you whisper.

Johnny smiles down at you and brushes the hair away from your face with a gentle hand.

"What can I bring you gentleman?" You ask while the other Cowboys take their seats.

"Coffee, YN," Curly drawls, feeling proud that he came to your rescue.

"Absolutely!" You tell him.

"Thank ya kindly, darlin'," Curly Bill answers.

"Ya ever find yourself in a situation like that again, you just tell us," Barnes adds, taking a seat.

"I really appreciate that," you respond.

"Well, anyone who can put a smile on Ringo's face must be something special," Barnes continues.

You can't help but smile. Johnny looks down and then back at you. He nods and smirks just enough to let you know he'll always have your back.

When you return with a tray of hot coffee, you take their orders.

Curly Bill goes first. "Got lucky at poker again last night! I'll take a steak, two eggs and biscuits."

"Of course," you answer, happily. Curly Bill's demeanor is a stark contrast from the first time he and his cowboys were in the restaurant.

The others order hotcakes and fried potatoes and bacon. You take their orders and head to the kitchen.

Fatty busies himself cracking eggs and flipping hotcakes when you return. "The Dalton's left!" You announce, your eyes beaming with relief.

Fatty pauses and wipes his big face with his apron. He heads to the dining hall and sees the Cowboys sitting where the Dalton's were

"Howdy there, partner," Curly Bill says. "Don't fret over them boys. They was dumb enough to bother the lovely lady here. I reckon they won't be bothering her again. And as long as we're having meals here, they won't bother any of you neither. Dumb bastards think they can talk to Johnny's girl like that."

Johnny feels a surge of pride. He's glad to see his Cowboys can embrace you and even go out of their way to protect you.

You hum to yourself while walking to the kitchen. You hand Fatty their orders and the large cook starts frying some steak. He orders Big Nellie to chop more potatoes. Big Nellie cuts up potatoes, onions and peppers. Nellie fries up the home fries and dumps some on a few plates.

Big Nellie cuts up more potatoes and peppers and onions so the restaurant staff could stay on top of the breakfast rush.

You return to check on the Cowboys and refill their coffee cups frequently so they don't need to ask. You bring a basket of warm biscuits and soft butter. "These are on me today!" You declare.

"Well, ain't that real nice," Curly Bill answers, helping himself to a biscuit. He takes a big bite and winks at you. You smile and return to the kitchen.

You notice out of all the patrons, the Cowboys keep their wide brim hats on while inside; something considered rude by certain societal standards. However they're a group that makes up their own rules and you appreciate that. After all, you left Missouri to head West for a taste of adventure.

More hungry customers walk down the stairs and take seats at the tables covered with oil clothes. Others enter through the front door. You greet them, while brushing hair behind your ears. You wipe the sweat off your head, take a breath and happily take their orders. Knowing the Cowboys sit close by, watching carefully, you breathe a little better.

Johnny watches in awe while you gracefully move through the restaurant, taking several orders at once, walking in and out of the kitchen, carrying a large, round platter with several steaming hot dishes of delicious delights including waffles, omelettes, sausage, oatmeal and fresh baked treats such as pies, doughnuts and sweet rolls.

You bring the Cowboys their orders; steaks cooked rare, pancakes, bacon, fried potatoes and sausage. You return to fill their coffee cups and ask if they need anything else.

"Just keep giving us that sweet smile," Barnes answers, his mouth full. The Cowboys eat quickly and clumsily, clearly showing their lack of decorum. All but Johnny, who chews his food and enjoys his food slowly. During a drive, cowboys do their best to not overindulge. Not much worse than riding on a full belly. However, when they were in town taking a break from driving cows, they ate freely, enjoying it as much as they could.

You find it charming. Watching Curly Bill takes big bites of steak with one fork and biting into a biscuit right after. He pauses just to sip his coffee and then goes back to happily digging in. They eat like no one is watching or they simply do not care, probably used to being gawked at. For these hardened men, the opinions of most people didn't affect them much.

You clear several plates. Big Nellie, who moves slowly by choice gives you a frustrated look. You hand her a plate of half eaten pancakes and she delightfully digs in while walking to the kitchen.

"Go easy, Big Nellie!" Curly Bill bellows, lighting up a cigar. "Save some room for the free chuck!"

With her mouth full, Nellie responds, "I'll be hungry again by then." She retreats to the kitchen. Curly Bill looks at you and smiles.

When you walk by, he brazenly takes your arm gently, but firmly. He knows not to scare you or upset you; he's a cowboy and doesn't possess the best manners.

"It's about time we lonely cowboys had something pretty and sweet to look at."

"Oh, Curly Bill!" You answer, chuckling. He lets go of your hand.

Curly Bill says your name. "I mean that. It ain't everyday someone makes this old cowboy feel appreciated."

You smile. Johnny Ringo nods at you recalling his intimate time with you. He face burns red but he composes himself. "You sure know how to make a man feel good," Johnny adds, his voice above a whisper.

Your eyes widen at Johnny. His gaze is so intense, it burns right through you. The Cowboys exchange glances, smiling at each other or shaking their heads in disbelief.

Johnny's got a soft spot after all...

"She sure is something..." Billy Clanton says, feeling like a silly school boy. "You sure got lucky there, Johnny." The younger cowboy shows some concern for Ringo's response, recalling how Johnny handled Ike when Ike disrespected you.

"Aw, hell! I didn't mean nothing by that, Ringo!" Billy Clanton says. "Just that we should all be so lucky. That's all..."

Johnny smiles in a way that shocks the Cowboys. They glance at each other.

Johnny Ringo smiling? The Cowboys ponder.

Curly Bill speaks up. "Aw, come on, son! You're making us all look bad! This lovely little lady puttin' a spell on you, boy?"

Johnny Ringo looks right at you. "Reckon she's putting a spell on me. I can't remember the last time I felt..." He pauses. "Alive," he whispers. He almost regrets saying it, but at the same time, he doesn't care.

You can't help but smile wide at Johnny's confession. He stares at the table, trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling that comes with his acknowledgement of his feelings.

"Well, I think other customers are in need of some of that charm," Curly Bill grunts. "We'll take a little more coffee, you don't mind," he finishes.

"Of course! Anything for you boys!" You respond, rushing to the kitchen. You return and fill their coffee cups.

"Mighty nice," Ike Clanton says, wiping food off his beard.

Curly Bill and the other Cowboys pay for their meals and hand you a big tip. Not only did they protect you, they ensured your service was appreciated.

Curly Bill lightly touches your chin before winking and heading to the door, his spurs jingling.

Johnny stands before you. His intense desires to hold you overwhelm him. He brushes a hair away from your face. He glances at the glistening sweat that lays on your chest.

"I'll be seeing you," he says, his voice just above a whisper.

"When?" You ask.

Johnny looks around, a few customers look over with curious glances. He doesn't want them talking about you. He nods, a silent agreement between you two. You watch the gunfighter walk away with his signature gait.

Big Nellie bumps into you. You turn and she scowls at you. She begins gathering the Cowboys plates and dishes, along with the empty coffee cups. "They didn't leave anything!" She growls. You sigh, working with her really tests your nerves.

The hotel restaurant closes after breakfast at 10 and doesn't reopen for lunch until 12. While people move about in the lobby, you head to the kitchen to help wash dishes and help prepare lunch.

"Stop eating, Nellie!" Fatty complains. "All she does! And Emmett asks me why we lose money!"

"Plenty of men around here think I'm pretty!" Nellie answers, her mouth full.

"If you're not going to help YN, please go sweep or something!" Fatty groans.

"It's time for my break anyhow!" Nellie announces while her big gerth is moving towards the front door. She heads to the ice cream parlor. She takes a broom and sweeps up, hoping for a free scoop. Bonney shakes his head and offers a vanilla cone. She downs it before returning to the hotel kitchen.

It's clear she's envious of your beauty and grace, but knows she can't compete with you. After almost two hours of washing, chopping and mixing, Fatty allows you a small break. You fix yourself a small sandwich and eat it, washing it down with coffee.

"Thank you!" You say. "That hit the spot."

"Well, let's get ready for lunch. I already hear people walking over," Emmett answers.

Fatty fries up some chicken and you busy yourself mashing potatoes and checking the oven to see if the biscuits are ready. "A few more minutes," you say. You throw your towel over your shoulder and blow air out of your lungs.

Fatty asks you to mind the gravy and ensure it doesn't boil. You stir the gravy, the smells flood the kitchen, giving the aroma of a Thanksgiving feast.

Nellie takes green beans out of a pot of water and puts them in a large bowl. She adds salt and pepper and mixes the beans well. Fatty takes a roast from the oven and begins carving it up with the speed of a seasoned cook.

You move to the counter at Fatty's request, you chop tomatoes, lettuce and fresh cucumber. Then you make a dressing with whole milk and mayonnaise, adding salt and pepper.

Emmett opens the restaurant and several people enter, sitting at various tables.

You move through the tables.

"Good afternoon," you say in a friendly voice. "For lunch we have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, a roast, gravy, salad and biscuits."

People place their orders for beef or fried chicken and you happily serve up their plates, carefully putting the same amount on each dish. You put four plates on a round platter and provide hungry customers with lunch. The rush lasts two hours and a few minutes before once again, Emmett closes the kitchen, allowing the staff to rest and prepare dinner.

Dinner doesn't start for three hours so you take a break to refresh yourself. When you exit the hotel, you hear the jingling of spurs. Then Johnny Ringo moves towards you. He says your name and smiles at you.

"Johnny!"

He motions for you to meet him behind the hotel without the prying eyes of witnesses.

To your surprise and delight, he cups your face and kisses you passionately. The two of you share an embrace of romance as intense as Johnny Ringo himself.

"I couldn't wait to do that!" He confesses.

You return his affection, wrapping your arms around him. He puts his forehead against yours. "You...you don't seem real," he whispers.

"I am," you acknowledge. "And I want to be here with you."

Johnny kisses you again. "Now you get back to work," he teases, patting your behind with an open hand.

"See you later, cowboy," you whisper, blowing him a kiss. He shakes his head, not believing his luck.

His moment of happiness grows dark when he hears the booming voice of Wyatt Earp who walks quickly towards him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Ringo?" Wyatt demands.

"What's it to you, Earp?" Johnny asks, looking squarely at the lawman.

"Everything here concerns me and I won't have you taking advantage of her. Or any other decent woman around here. There are plenty of whores to go around for a man like you. And your friends!"

"What can you do, Earp? Maybe you should stick to lawing, not bothering citizens here," Ringo's tone is cold.

"Don't tempt me, cowboy! We've had enough of your kind!"

Ringo looks Earp up and down, the realization of his words hit Ringo hard.

"You could put her in serious trouble," Wyatt growls. "You're not concerned someone may exploit her to get back at you? You're walking a fine line."

"So are you, Earp," Ringo answers, implying Wyatt's relationship with Josephine Marcus although Maddie Blalock still resides with him.

Wyatt's eyes turn to ice, his piercing glance burning through Johnny. Johnny's head, still reeling from the kiss, feels vulnerable, but does his best to maintain his tough disposition.

"Stay on your own side of the street, Earp," Johnny answers, looking away.

Wyatt watches the gunfighter leave. He shakes his head and wanders towards the Oriental.

When Wyatt enters the saloon, he takes his hat off and demands a cigar.

"What's the matter, Wyatt?" Virgil grumbles, counting receipts.

"That damn Ringo!" Wyatt snaps. "It would be a damn shame if she ran off with him!"

"Well, not much you can do, Wyatt," Morgan answers, his feet up while he leans back in his chair, his hat over his eyes.

"We're supposed to keep the bad elements out of here!" Wyatt snaps.

"The Cowboys keep this town alive, Wyatt," Morgan says. "Unfortunately..."

"I need to warn her. Let her know what she's getting into with that scum!" Wyatt pumps beer into a glass and takes a seat. "How'd we do?" Wyatt grumbles, gazing at the receipts.

"Good. Business keeps flowing. We'll soon have enough to open our own place," Morgan chuckles.

Wyatt nurses his beer.

The brothers spend the next hour counting the remaining receipts and checking to ensure plenty of booze occupies the shelves along with the beer pumps. Wyatt looks out the window and can see you run up the steps of the hotel, ready for the dinner rush.

Fatty stirs the beef stew he prepared and asks you to make biscuits. You nod, smile to yourself and get to work mixing flour and eggs together. Big Nellie busies herself preparing a vegetable salad, she opens the pot of stew and helps herself.

"Big Nellie!" Fatty whines. "There some roast left from lunch! And I put out some beans and tortillas!" He points to a corner of the kitchen where a plate of warm tortillas sits next to a bowl of beans. Nellie huffs and continues working on the salad. Fatty shakes his head and looks at you with gratitude. You work hard and wait for your breaks. You return the nod and get back to scooping biscuit batter into a muffin tin.

Emmett steps outside to smoke a cigarette and you can hear voices, but you cannot make out what they're saying. At one point you hear your name and your heart sinks when you hear a man say, "that damn Ringo!"

Your heart sinks... The smile that adorns your face disappears and you find your knees shaking. You recall Johnny telling you the risks of associating with him and how dangerous Tombstone can be. You feel flushed, your pulse racing. You want to bury your head and cry...

Emmett returns and keeps the door open for customers. You take hot biscuits out of the oven and put another batch in. While putting biscuits into small baskets, you hear Emmett approaching.

"People ready to order," he announces. He glances at you as if to say something, but when Big Nellie pushes past him he simply nods and says, "thank you."

He knows something...You say to yourself. You feel flushed and hope it doesn't show while sucking back your urge to cry.

Once the baskets have enough biscuits in each, you head to the dining area, doing your best to keep a smile.

"We have beef stew, salad and of course biscuits," you say to a group of people gathered at one table.

The dinner rush keeps you focused, but you know you must ride out to the camp to see Johnny.

At camp, Johnny retreats to his tent to calm his aching heart. He knew trouble would come your way if you were associated with him. He curses himself for kissing you behind the restaurant, but he couldn't resist. The sweat glistening on your chest, your longing and loving eyes, the way your bosom rested on the tight fabric that keeps them a secret...

He lets the air out of his lungs in a disappointed sigh. He comes to hate the name Johnny Ringo all over again. That name, that fierce reputation became such an obstacle in his life; he could barely hold onto what little he still had left. He tells himself that love can conquer, but his world and his experiences leave him with little hope. He can't imagine you sneaking around, risking your own safety for him. Although he would never allow any harm to come your way, people of Tombstone could run you out of town, you could lose the cottage you saved up for, your reputation forever ruined because of your association with Johnny Ringo...

Ringo looks over a few other Cowboys. Some chop wood for the fire, others brush down the horses while some relax with whiskey and a smoke. Curly Bill notices Johnny's demeanor and heads to the tent Johnny used to shield himself from others.

"You alright, boy?" Curly asks, his cherubic face grinning.

"Damn self righteous sons a bitches!" Ringo grunts.

"Hell, Johnny! What happened?" Curly Bill is still holding the tent flap open.

"I shouldn't have touched her!"

"What the hell are you going on about?" Curly Bill drawls. "That sweet little thing at the hotel? Hell, she didn't seem bothered by you at all!"

"I kissed her...I thought nobody was around." Johnny tosses a book aside, trying to shake his anger.

"Aw, come on, son!" Curly Bill drawls. "Can't be as bad as all that!"

"Wyatt Earp told me to stay away from her!" Ringo barks. "Damn slugs!"

"Reckon that don't make no never mind!" Curly Bill chuckles. "They can't do nothing anyhow! Sides, Wyatt's got enough trouble with Holliday and Josephine Marcus. Hell, he ain't no saint!"

Johnny lets out a sigh of relief. He knew Curly's words hold some truth. Wyatt should focus on the two women he's playing and his questionable relationship with Doc Holliday. However, Johnny's haunting past creeps in whenever he feels the slow release of the chains that have bound him up for so long. When the prospect of something wonderful reveals itself, he finds himself questioning his worth.

When your shift ends you head to the livery. Amos is sitting on the ground, reading a dime novel. When he sees you, he quickly stands and adjusts his hat. "Mighty fine day, ma'am!" Amos declares, moving to retrieve Daisy for you."

"Amos," you begin. "Did...Did Johnny, Johnny Ringo pick up his horse earlier? I mean, did you keep his horse here?"

"Matter of fact, I did, ma'am! He sure was sour bout something."

"Did he say anything?" You inquire.

Amos scratches his head, "not that I reckon. He's usually real quiet." Amos hitches Daisy for you with the ease of someone who'd been working with horses his entire life. He checks the cinch and helps you up.

"Well," he starts. "Wish I could help you, ma'am, but with Mr. Ringo, it's all just a how do ya do. I'm guessing he ain't one for conversation."

You smile at Amos and hand him a five cent tip.

"Much obliged, ma'am!" Amos declares. He sits back down and continues reading his book.

You begin riding towards the Cowboys camp, but decide to return home first. You don't want to overwhelm Johnny. But you're desperate to see him.

Once Daisy is happily secured in her stable, you head inside to wash up. You recall the glare in Emmet's eyes. You hope he didn't intend to warn you about the dangerous and unpredictable man that is Johnny Ringo.

You can hear Daisy whinnying outside as if she's connected to your devotion to Johnny. Her restlessness stirs something in you.

After you wash up, brush your hair and apply some color to your lips.

"Come on, girl," you hum, saddling Daisy.

"Gidyap!" You shout, running the quarter horse through the brush and wildflowers that decorate the canvas of the Tombstone.

Curly Bill looks up from his drink when he sees you riding into the camp. Some of the Cowboys stand and take their hats off as it's not common to see such a beautiful woman in their presence.

"Y'all calm down now!" Curly Bill demands. "She ain't here for y'all to gawk at!"

Curly Bill approaches you and helps you off your horse.

"What are you doing here? Not that it ain't nice to see you, but this place isn't a place for a lady like you!" He takes his hat off and rocks on his feet unsure how to handle someone so lovely in the presence of a bunch of smelly cowboys with little manners.

"You're here to see Johnny, ain't ya?" He ponders, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Wait here," he drawls. Curly Bill glares at some of the curious cowboys who haven't met you yet. "Get back to what you were doin'! This don't concern any of you!"

Johnny hears the booming voice of Curly Bill and exits his tent. He can see you standing several feet away. He quickly rises to his feet, adjusts his hat and moves swiftly to where you're standing.

Curly Bill winks at you and leaves you and Johnny alone.

Johnny approaches you. "This place is dangerous!" He says. "You shouldn't be here."

"Johnny! I saw Wyatt talking with you! Is that what's bothering you? I asked Amos if-"

Johnny cuts you off. "You asked the stable kid about me? Why? You could have asked me yourself."

You shake your head. You notice how Johnny pulls away whenever he feels the slightest threat to his union with you.

"Johnny! Please!"

"Don't draw attention to those slugs!" He says, trying to walk away from you.

"Really? You're going to pull away from me again?"

Johnny slowly turns. "Ain't no use," he mumbles.

Before Johnny can turn away, you stand your ground. "You know... Maybe you're right, Johnny!" Your frustrated voice manages. "I'll go waste my time somewhere else! Would that make you happy? Huh?! Fine!" You turn, mount Daisy and ride off, the strong quarter horse kicking up dirt. Johnny stands still, stunned by your dramatic exit.

Did I just lose her? His mind screams.

Curly Bill saunters over. "Well that sure was a hell and Jesus, Johnny." Curly Bill crosses his arms and shakes his head.

"Not now, Bill," Ringo drawls, looking away.

"You're a damn fool, Johnny!" Curly Bill admonishes. Lettin' that little girl leave here like that! Johnny, I ain't got no feeling now over this. You got a chance at love! A chance most of us boys will never get! And you toss it away like a dead poker deal." Curly Bill turns and leaves, shaking his head. He moves to face Johnny one last time. "Iffin' I had an angel like that, I'd never let her go." Curly Bill shakes his head again. "Damn fool! Most men I rode with would kill for a chance to be with her! She's right to leave! Damn fool!"

Johnny stands in shock; pity from people, especially women flowed when Johnny's darkness overtakes him. Your choice to turn and go leaves him speechless. The shame he would normally feel isn't present; something else...Your departure, your words and the harshness in your voice. For the first time, he sees a person, a woman who refuses to tolerate his self hate. He feels challenged... Unsettled... Embarrassed.

He feels like a damn fool. He never should have let you go.

Curly Bill shakes his head and walks back to the chuck wagon. Johnny can hear the big rustler talking, but can't make out the words. A few cowboys look over at Ringo and shake their heads, exchanging confused glances. Some throw their hands up in sheer frustration.

Johnny, who usually swaggers through camp, evoking fear and uncertainty due to his volatile nature suddenly feels weak. He retreats to his tent and drowns his sorrows and loses with a full bottle of whiskey. He removes the cork and tosses it, knowing he'll finish the bottle within a short time.

Johnny begins to feel the effects of the rot gut and feels his eyes grow tired. He takes a breath and feels his throat tighten. Your face appears in his mind and he wipes tears before they can fall.

Once he drains the bottle, he falls asleep.

He relives the moment you rode off. In his dream, he mounts his horse and follows you. He yells your name and finally catches up to you.

Once you both come to a stop, he pulls you onto his animal. "Don't go...I was a fool!"

Then he sees your face twist into anger and frustration and he awakens, kicking the empty whiskey bottle. He hears the crackling of a dying fire and the snoring or farting of his smelly companions. He stumbles towards the chuck wagon and fumbles around for more whiskey. He sloppily tosses things around, not caring about the noise he's creating. He discovers some full bottles of whiskey. He grabs one and indignantly uncorks it, once again throwing the cork aside. He downs some before retreating back to his tent. Johnny moves in a clumsy manner, feeling the weight of shame; his darkness caused him to lose the one person who ever truly cares. Your willingness to work as a waitress, rent a cottage... Tolerate stinky patrons trying to get a rise out of you...All for him.

Johnny Ringo feels such a sense of shame and regret, he doesn't know what to do. His cowboys will admonish him for being a fool, Wyatt Earp proved his point to you and the worst thought...He may never see you again.

You ride fast back to your cottage, Daisy kicking up dust. You suck back to your tears and grow a determination to not let Johnny's brooding rejection get to you.

The wind flows through your unbound hair. The feel of Daisy between your strong thighs feels free and wild, just like your spirit. When you reach your home, you dismount, remove Daisy's saddle and brush her off before preparing grains for her.

"That man!" You groan to your horse. "I won't leave! I won't let him think he got to me like that!" You wipe your tears and stomp up the stairs to your house. You slam the door and lean against the wall. Tears stream down your face and you cover your face while you cry over Johnny Ringo...

"You bastard!" You shout. "After what I did for you!!" You sob, your words coming out slowly. You pick up a tea cup and throw it against the wall. "Son of a bitch!" The cup smashes against the wall. You sink to your knees and allow yourself to fall into your sadness. You release the tension and hurt in your heart.

[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.

[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.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Hellooo! How about 3, 6, 7 and 13 for the Simpsons OC ask? c:

3 – Sum up your OC in three words.

Depressed... Communist... Girlboss.

6 – What’s your OC’s personality like? Are they carefree and chill, or are they more likely to take things seriously (like Frank Grimes)?

Delilah is... A fish out of water when it comes to American culture, alot of the consumerist and sexualized culture of it puts her off (not that she was unfamiliar with those concepts before going there and she fully braced herself for it but the way it worked itself deeply into every corner of life just. Unsettles her so much. Especially with all the anti-capitalist/pro-communist propaganda she grew up with). She doesn't really regard the rules or social customs so she's kind of like if a greaser-style bad boy was a middle-aged woman, but deep down she's also a huge nerd who loves linguistics and space.

One thing that absolutely breaks her anti-capitalist mindset is her dying need to collect adorable plush animals and aliens, she can't resist the big eyes and tries to shoplift as many unique plushies as possible. Her bedroom is lined with them.

As a teacher she'd be highly enthusiastic about her subject but super strict on the conduct of her class, she was THIS close to slapping a child on the hands with a ruler until she realized that corporal punishment was banned in Springfield Elementary and doing it would've immediately lost her her job as a new teacher. She likes the kids who show interest and absolutely despises kids who disrupt the class, so kids like Martin would be among her favorites while Bart and Nelson would be on her after-school hit list. She mostly inherited this teaching style from her own teachers at school.

7 – What’s your OC’s motto? Similarly, what would be their catchphrase?

Her motto is "Lay low and kill the problem with no fuss"

And her catchphrase would be a low grumble of a word like "Capitalism..." or "Americans..." while she flips through dollar bills to pay for something.

13 – BONUS: Tell us a fun fact about your OC!

Her real first name is named after one of my classmates who has the same black curly hair! And Лаженска comes from the Macedonian word лажен which means fake or phoney. Meanwhile, Delilah was just the first name that came to mind that sounded befitting and Montag is named after the German word for Monday (Monntag) BUT it can also be seen as a reference to the surname Montague which is Romeo's family name in Romeo and Juliet, which applies to the USA vs USSR nature of her relationship with Skinner, and also the German border conflict pre-unification in 1990.

[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

[virgilthepoet1029]

Things i want to remember

7/15/23

She doesn’t drink coffee.

She drinks tea.

In big mugs with textured black and white designs

Her dad got her “fancy tea” with a picture of Princess Diana on the box

That’s what she drinks.

She has piles of books at the foot of her bed to read.

Organized by genre, and order she wants to read them.

She moved my favorite book to the top of the list

And she has the unedited version of Dorian Gray

She’s been reading the same book since middle school

And is reading 7 at the same time.

She doesn’t dance in the rain.

Not because she doesn’t like it

But because her hair is too curly and too thick and takes too long to dry

Speaking of, when she takes a shower she keeps her hair in clips until it is dry enough

Or else it won’t lay right

She knows how to waltz

“It’s just a box step in ¾ time” she says

And I quote the show we’re watching together and pull her in to dance

And she teaches me the steps

She worried about her neighbors seeing us

The conservative ones who faces her always open window

I ask her why she doesn’t just close the window all the time then

“Because I like the light” she says

She blushes very easily

The first time I said “i love you” I could see her scarlet cheeks 20 feet away

Her hands and feet are always cold

“Warm heart” she says when i point it out

And I joke that it balances out her warm cheeks

She sends long voice messages instead of texts

“It’s important you hear my tone, I don’t want to worry you” she says

She knows I was already worried

And she reassured me before she can even see me or hear me

She likes color theory

It’s her current hyperfixation

“You’re a summer” she says

She pauses the show to point out the characters colors schemes

She likes laying on top of people

When we cuddle she doesn’t like spooning, she likes to crush people

“Maybe it's the autism” she says

I always worry that my hip is hurting her

But she tells me she's comfortable

She likes wearing sun dresses

“All the girls are wearing sundresses!” she says

Excited that she’s not alone across the sea

She likes how they flow

Her favorite movie is mulan

And she is appalled that I haven’t seen it

“It’s the gayest disney movie!” she says

I laugh

She likes to mess with my bracelets when we hold hands

I find her fidgeting with them

She doesn’t like action movies

She has never seen any marvel movies

So she doesn’t get my references

But that’s ok

She doesn’t like blood

It freaks her out and is a phobia of hers

She hasn’t seen kill bill but made it though pulp fiction

Her favorite cake is chocolate with chocolate frosting

“Keeping it simple, although i like pretty much all cake”

And she buys them from ingles

Her favorite thai restaurant is little Bangkok

She orders her noodles at a level 3 spice

And always tells the story of how the waiter didn’t believe her one time

2/13/24

12/19/24

She got a new phone case over the summer

It has poppies on it

With a gold outline

It reminds me of us mixed together

Her favorite color isn’t red, it's a deep blue

Like my bracelet

She used to say it was green as a kid, it made her giggle

And red is her favorite to wear

But it’s that blue.

She’s growing out her hair

She wants to cut it like Sadie Sink in All Too Well

She’s almost there

She gets this savory crepe from the French market

It’s has ham and cheese and I don’t like it

But she loves it she gets that and a cup of English breakfast tea

She likes spinach on her pizza

“It’s a good way to trick myself into eating greens”

That’s how we ordered it in Chicago

And how I order it now

When I got to her house the day she got home

She ran out the front door and hugged me

And her phone fell out of her pocket

And we had to use my flashlight to find it

The second to last night I stayed over

She curled up to me twice

She had a nightmare

She fell asleep on my arms both times

When she came to my house

She was wearing a white shirt with a green crocheted sweater over it

She took the sweater off to talk to me

She was wearing her cure shirt the last time I saw her

The one that has the days of the week on it

She slept in it a lot

It was more faded then I remembered it being

She had that blue and gray dress hanging in her closet

With pockets that she loved so much

That tied around the waist

She had two of the mugs of water on her nightstand

Or was it three

It was hard to see through my tears

Between them were several tissues

To show she had been crying too

She waved at me before I walked out the door

I waved back

Trying to smile

[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 !

[paladin--strait]

Hiiii!! I've been seeing you do these all over my dash, and they look like fun! I'd like one if you're still doing them, please :)

League specifics: NHL

Interests: reading, writing, binging TV shows and watching sports, living and breathing music, art, sleeping

Physical preference: not a huge fan of facial hair, but it's okay. Curly, maybe darker, hair.

Love language: physical touch and quality time

Other details: I’m really short (<5'), so a big height difference might be fun

Thank you!

sorry he's not exactly what you wanted, but i saw him and got excited 🥳

your match is...

zach hyman!

zach is so unbelievably sweet. he has written three children's books and loves to volunteer for children's charities. he is such a loving person in general and is so kind towards everyone.

he loves to play video games and lets you join him if you want. he loves the harry potter books and will watch the movies with you, binge watching them on his days off if you want! he buys snacks and drinks to enjoy while you watch tv and movies. he also loves watching sports, really getting into it with every game he watches. he loves watching the buffalo bills!

zach is definitely the type to let you do his hair, curling it and styling it. his hair is pretty straight and kinda boring sometimes so he lets you do what you want with it. if it looks really good and he likes it, he gets you to teach him how you did it and he'll start styling his hair like that for a while until he finds something new.

he takes you to the movies on your first date, watching whatever movie you pick. he doesn't really have a preference in genres, he just picks something that sounds interesting usually. he buys the tickets and popcorn, along with any drink you want. he takes you to a little restaurant after so he can talk to you properly and get to know you more. he listens to everything you say and answers all your questions. he tells you at the end of the date that he has enjoyed his time with you and would like to hang out again sometime soon. do you accept?

[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.

[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.

[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

[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.