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headoverhiddles · 4 years ago

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The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage.

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.

Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust. “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

“Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

“I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

“Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together.

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love.

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact."

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now."

"King!"

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning."

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

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clockpins · 3 years ago

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“Hey there, high there, feeling high and dry here.”

With plenty of mirth and some triage and salve slapped onto his back and side. Grief’s luckier than Pennyweight in that most of the damage had been from burns and not direct impact shrapnel. He isn’t infected either, and that’s cause for a celebratory shot or two from Goose, who he’s already gifted some swish for his troubles. The bar’s predictably packed, and he’s a little later than he thought he’d be. An entire day later.

Such was business and recovery. He didn’t bother Artemy with any of his personal- hah griefs. They made a cool million, and he’d toasted to the crew when they all were safe and sound, sitting pretty on piles of cash.

He needs out of the game desperately, and the stakes were always high, but tonight they felt higher. The Sand Pest as a weapon... People were indescribably stupid. A cheers to the stupid people.

He downs a shot of whiskey and the soreness takes to a dull ache. If he smoked, it would be the night for a celebratory one.

“Where’s the boss, hm? He workin’ tonight? Place’s lookin’ like she’s got a fresh new crowd with all the new faces.”

He set his mink fur coat up, and wore an empty machine gun cartridge chain over his shoulder as a fashion statement. It augmented the shotgun on his hip. Soon Old Bark was going to come calling for all the weapons. He could play until then. It certainly got him plenty of looks.

The people he doesn’t recognize are fresh faces just because he hadn’t seen them in a long month. And... he noticed there were some rough types too. Deserters? Escapees? Those were very new. There was music playing, people laughed.

He rubs at his eyes to eek the sleepless gunk out of them while the whiskey did its magic.

“Got a couple fun things for Hoss.”

@bonefoundation

#bonefoundation #gun running is bad for your health

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queenofcandynsoda · 5 years ago

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One Piece OC: Charlotte Linzer

Charlotte Linzer

Epithet/Codename: Red Hood

Age: 7

Birthday: January 26th

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Blue

Height: 3’11” (121.1 cm)

Appearance: Linzer is a young girl with black hair and blue eyes. She always wears a red hood.

Daily #1: Linzer wears a blue dress with black shoes.

Daily #2: Linzer wears a white blouse with a black jumper skirt and boots.

Tribal: Linzer wears a dress with a crimson shade and fur. She also wears black boots.

Formal Tribal: Linzer wears a dress with a darker shade of burgundy red with a pattern of small berries. Her shoes are black and burgundy flats.

Affiliations: Big Mom Pirates (Defected); Charlotte Family, Lost Boys Pirates; Mink Fleet

Occupation: Baker, Food Courier

Bounty: None

Devil Fruit: None

Moves: None

Skill: Linzer is a great baker since she learned from her mother and her paternal grandmother. She even has a small recipe book if she needs to cook.

Personality: Linzer is a shy and kind little girl. Despite her meek nature, she is very helpful and resourceful. She enjoys baking food for others, especially those in need. It’s said that she has a similar personality and kindness like her paternal grandmother, such as being motherly.

About: Charlotte Linzer is the daughter of the thirty-seventh daughter of the Charlotte Family, Wafers, and her husband, Marchen. She has a wolf-dog puppy named Jam and her paternal grandmother is Liesel. Marchen was attacked by wolves as a child and has developed a deep fear of them. He would often carry a shotgun and would shoot at anything that resembles a wolf. Linzer would have Jam to hide in her room in fear that her father would kill him. When Linzer was walking to Liesel’s house in the forest with snacks and sparkling apple juice, she was encounter by Windflower, a half-wolf mink Lost Boy. Seeing that he’s hungry, she gave him her snacks. She brings him to her grandmother’s house, who gave him cookies and took care of his injuries after seeing he’s hurt. Linzer never told her father about Windflower. In Reeve Island, she bakes food and snack and would often carry food to the Lost Boys who are young, working on the island, or unable to go to her bakery. Windflower is very possessive of her but she always tends to calm him down before he attacks.

Wanted Poster: None

#one piece #One Piece OC #one piece au #descendants au #one piece descendants #Lost Boys Pirates #Lost Girls #charlotte wafers #charlotte linzer #charlotte family

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decodad-a-blog · 6 years ago

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* MUSE AESTHETICS : repost, don’t reblog, and bold the aesthetic images and/or feelings that are applicable to your muse.

> [ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. maroon. burgundy. taupe. warm grey.

> [ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. metal. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. winter. spring. autumn. summer.

> [ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. hirsute. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. fur. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. scrawny. gangly. bony. frail. svelte. athletic. slim. chubby. curvy. short. tall. average. muscular. piercings. tattoos.

> [ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. shotgun. rifle. pocket knife. hunting knife. switchblade. pepper spray. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. sniper rifles.

> [ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. quartz. crystal. copper. bronze. brass. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. ivory. antimony. mercury. wool. fur. lead. suede. corduroy. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. chrome. aluminium. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

> [ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. moss. daisies. sunflower. snowdrops. daffodil. tulips. lavender. succulent. cacti. ferns. lilies. hydrangea. bleeding heart. foxglove. lilac. mushrooms. ivy. weeds. vines. dandelion. violets. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. prairie. grassland. wetland. garden. morning glories. clover. rosemary. sage. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savannah. coniferous forest. pond. deciduous forest. lake. tropical rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains.

> [ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. insects. chickens. vulture. spiders. fox. mole. pheasant. birds of prey. parrots. parakeet. cockatiel. heron. moth. butterfly. crane. jellyfish. bees. hornets. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. rabbits. lobster. clams. praying mantis. cows. oxen. bulls. goats. lynx. pigs. sheep. rams. panthers. beaver. ferret. weasel. mongoose. muskrat. mink. opossum. raccoons. giant squid. bears. tigers. elephants. bobcat. elk. moose. buffalo. deer. crows. ravens. mice. rats. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons.

> [ FOODS / DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. red wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. white wine. vodka. gin. rum. tequila. bourbon. whiskey. cider. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. cucumber. blueberries. grapes. eggplant. potatoes. corn. wheat. oats. vegetables. tomatoes. rosemary. onion. garlic. meat. cheese. bread. shellfish. raspberries. bagels. pomegranate. fruits. berries. nuts. meat. fish. pies. pastries. ambrosia. ice cream. fudge. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. pancakes. cornbread. waffles. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. pho. ramen. udon. fried rice.

> [ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. model sets. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. mathematics. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. television. radio. podcasts. theatre. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. banjo. flute. ukulele. guitar. electronic guitar. omnichord. bass guitar. cello. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. hiking. climbing. running. hunting.

> [ STYLE ] lingerie. sweatpants. converse. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. collared shirt. t-shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. gauges. piercings. jewelry. earrings. necklace. layers. tanks. bralette. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. beanie. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. harness. holster. garters. flannel. denim. hoodie. corsets. sneakers. sandals. doublet. bandana. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. paisley. plaid. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. suit.

> [ MISC . ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. cynicism. realism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

stole from @techbuilt forever ago, rip tagging whoever wants to do this!

#BIOGRAPHY ( canon )

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shiftwux · 1 year ago

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long distance sibling codec call

#the #mgs #oc #mgs oc #metal gear oc #shotgun mink #marie carter-lambert

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sublimeperfectionland · 7 years ago

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New Moon of the Dark Kingdom Chapter Hundred and Three - Dinner with the Folks

Zoisite and Kunzite have found true love, but when some old friends, a vengeful god, and a pair of evil twins are gunning for the Shitennou all at once, life is not going to be easy

[Scene: Chief Midori's squad car. Zoi and his father are wearing suits and driving the streets of Seattle Zoi looks extremely anxious.]

Zoi: Drive faster dad!

Chief Midori: I can't. It's bumper to bumper.

Zoi: [hugging himself with worry] Oh my god. We're going to be late to pick up Mom!

Chief Midori: It's not my fault people slow to a crawl whenever they see a squad car.

Zoi: I don't want her yelling at us.

Chief Midori: It's ok. I called your mother before we left, and the salon is running a little behind schedule.

Zoi: [practically crying] But don't you see? That'll just make it worse!

Chief Midori: [smiles] Calm down son. When I called your mother to let her know we were on our way, she was in a really good mood.

Zoi: You called Mom? And she was happy to hear from you? I don't buy it!

[Chief Midori shrugs and stops for a yellow light]

Zoi: What are you doing! You could have made that light!

Chief Midori: It's ok.

Zoi: [near tears] It's not ok! Put on your siren!

[Chief Midori chuckles]

Zoi: This is funny to you?

Chief Midori: A little.

Zoi: This is only funny because you haven't lived with Mom for ten years! She doesn't mind making people wait around for her, but nothing makes her crazier than having to wait around for someone else!

Chief Midori: This must be the place. [pulls into the spa parking lot and parks up front] Don't worry, your mother has mellowed out considerably since her move to Italy.

Zoi: She didn't sound that mellow last time I spoke to her.

Chief Midori: Oh, relax. it's your birthday...And here comes your mother.

[Renee Cappelli waddles out of the salon. She's like a middle aged female version of Zoi and is looking red carpet ready in a maternity evening gown, a mink coat and full runway makeup.]

[Zoi gets out of the car so she can ride shotgun.]

Chief Midori: Sorry, I'm late, Renee. We ran into traffic on the way over here.

[Zoi cowers while he waits for her to start shrieking out insults.]

Renee: [pats her updo as she checks it in the rear view mirror] No problem at all. It gave me more time for my toenail polish to dry.

[Zoi just stand outside the car, dumbfounded]

Renee: [looks at Zoi] What, no kiss for your mother?

Zoi: [gives her a quick kiss on the cheek] Sorry. I didn't want to ruin your makeup.

Renee: It's just makeup, dear. I can touch it up on the way to the restaurant.

[Zoi climbs into the back of the squad car and they drive off.]

Chief Midori: So. How have you been?

Renee: [touching up her makeup] Oh, I can't complain.

Zoi: [wideeyed] What?

Renee: [to Zoi] Is something wrong, dear?

Zoi: Why are you so mellow?

Renee: After a lifetime of poverty and disappointment, I find an easy pregnancy, a handsome young husband, and several million in a trust fund will do that to you.

Zoi: Oh.

[Zoi feels a sudden urge to get all his secrets off his chest while she is still in a mellow state.]

Zoi: Mom. There are things I need to tell you. About myself. Things you aren't going to like hearing.

Renee: [still working on her makeup] Oh, that sounds serious.

Zoi: I've changed. I'm not the same person I was when I lived in Phoenix. Not at all.

Renee: Ohhh. This is about that boy, isn't it? What's his name?

Chief Midori: Kunzite.

Renee: Oh, yes. Kunzite. You've been doing the naughty with him, haven't you?

Zoi: [turns beet red] Mom!

Renee: Don't worry, were not in much of a position to judge since we weren't any better when we were your age.

Chief Midori: Renee!

Renee: The difference is that you two want to stay together, while your father and I HAD to stay together.

Chief Midori: Renee! Don't tell him these things!

Renee: What? Our boy is genius. I'm sure he worked out the math a long time ago. And since there is zero chance you're going to find yourself in the same sort of mess we did, you certainly have my blessing.

Chief Midori: Renee!

Zoi: It's ok, Dad. I already knew I was a prom baby.

Renee: See? What did I tell you?

Zoi: [under his breath] It's the only way your marriage made any sense, really.

Chief Midori: We never regretting having you. Not for a minute.

Renee: Amen. You were the only good thing that ever came out of that relationship.

[They pull up to the hotel and park. Chief Midori and Renee Cappelli remain upbeat as they walk on either side of Zoi through the chrome, marble and crystal lobby, but Zoi can't help but feel like a condemned prisoner being led to the gallows. The feeling only intensifies as they near the restaurant.]

[He looks at his mother and she smiles back at him with her heavily made up face. Her serene expression it makes her look more like a doll than a human. This chills him to the bone. He feels a terrible sense of foreboding. Worse than anything he's ever felt before. He turns and runs back toward the exit.]

Chief Midori: Zoi? Get back here.

[Zoi runs faster and Chief Midori catches up with him and pulls him to a stop.]

Zoi: Dad. Something is wrong. This isn't Mom.

Renee: [finally a bit cross] What do you mean 'This isn't Mom'?

Zoi: This whole thing. It's weird. Why are you so calm? And why you dressed up like that, just to have dinner with my father?

Renee: I didn't get dressed up to have dinner with your father. I got all dressed up to have dinner with you.

Zoi: Me AND my father...Who usually mocks you when you do silly things like this. It's not like we are going to the Oscar Awards. It's just the Grill at the hotel!

Renee: What? I'm not allowed to look nice for your birthday? It's not every day my baby turns sixteen, you know.

Zoi: [in tears] You know you don't need to get dressed up to have dinner with me.

Renee: Yeah...well...I need to make up for all those birthdays we were living paycheck to paycheck and didn't have any money for presents from anywhere but the Dollar Store...You want a car? I will buy you a car...what kind of car do you want?

Zoi: I don't want a car.

Chief Midori: He has a motorcycle.

Renee: A motorcycle? Really? Wow.

Zoi: See? This is what I'm talking about! That wasn't even a bad Wow! We need to leave. Now. I just know if we don't leave now something terrible is going to happen.

[His parents give each other a knowing smirk]

Chief Midori: Son. There is a reason your mother is in a really good mood tonight. But this is supposed to be a surprise. We're going to tell you all about it at dinner.

Zoi: [freaking out] I don't want dinner! I want to go home!

Chief Midori: Zoisite...

Renee: No, it's ok. It's his birthday. If he's feeling spooked for whatever reason, we can take a raincheck...I just need to check in with Giancarlo and tell him there has been a change in my plans for tonight.

[She rummages in her purse as she walks toward a grand ballroom next to the restaurant. Chief Midori walks over with her, pulling Zoi along with him. She makes a show of dialing, then throws open the ballroom door as his father practically shoves him through.

Hundreds of voices: SURPRISE!

[balloons and pink confetti that look like flower petals rain down as Zoi recognizes most of his family and friends seated at tables under a huge gold banner that says HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZOI and SWEET 16]

[Zoi's parents clap him on the back and chuckle with amusement as he takes it all in]

[But instead of being less freaked out, he starts backing away.]

Zoi: Oh, no. No. No. No. No.

#new moon of the dark kingdom

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god-sent-gender-bent · 8 years ago

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SO I FOUND A LIST OF WHAT EACH STATE BUYS THE MOST OF AND I REALLY WANT SOMEONE TO DRAW CHARACTERS REPRESENTING EACH STATE

ALABAMA: adult diapers / Curry 2 Low / Paula Deen Air Fryer / CPAP mask / roller skates ALASKA: Connect Four / ugly Christmas sweater / drone / webcam / M-16 rifle ARIZONA: milk frother / marijuana seeds for sale / money belt / beret hat / Kangol hat / Juicy Couture tracksuit ARKANSAS: tablet computer / night vision goggles / tattoo sleeves / Paula Deen furniture / tutu / costume jewelry CALIFORNIA: Little Tikes Easy Score Basketball Set / Baywatch swimsuit / avocado slicer / Roach Motel / Pomade / Stadium Buddy / Onion Goggles / Guy Fieri knives / Bob Marley poster / Bacon Soap / baby on board sticker / baby on board sign / wallet chain / purple leather jacket / Armani jeans / Louis Vuitton money clip / bulk glitter / raccoon trap / Pikachu dog costume COLORADO: Handerpants / Trump toilet paper / Borat mankini / swim briefs / tube socks CONNECTICUT: insect trap / Ivanka Trump jewelry / pet rock / Pilates Pro Chair DELAWARE: Genealogical DNA test / umbrella / Crocs DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA: shutter shades / bowling shirt FLORIDA: boyfriend arm pillow / Guy Fieri cookware / rollerblades Walmart / car bra / 9mm suppressor / men’s cargo shorts / paintball sniper rifle GEORGIA: plaid pants / zombie apocalypse survival kit / Ed Hardy shirt / camo wedding dress HAWAII: GoPro Hero / Flowbee / speargun / aloha shirt / fanny pack / Spam / Louis Vuitton bag IDAHO: Shamwow / NERF Blaster / Fez / metal detector / glass pipe / smoked turkey / trucker hat / surfboard ILLINOIS: electric wine bottle opener / giant wine glass / gun silencer / patterned tights / Solo cups / floating beer pong table / Golden Girls mug INDIANA: shark costume / Tiddy Bear / Eggstractor / blow-up doll / cloche hat IOWA: temporary tattoo / lava lamp KANSAS: plus size lingerie wholesale KENTUCKY: adult big wheel / Confederate flag shirt / syringes / air mattress / ferrets for sale / Starter jacket 90s / comics LOUISIANA: microwave oven / Uroclub / Flex Seal / rat poison / big wheel / Fundies / portable diesel generator / hair extensions / crawfish pot MAINE: chicken coop / marijuana seeds / canoe / cat food / Mason jar / snowmobile MARYLAND: Comfort Wipe / Bacon Soda / cargo pants / cargo pants for women MASSACHUSETTS: Potty Putter / Samurai Umbrella / velour tracksuit MICHIGAN: car emergency kit / no-tie shoelaces / hunting clothes / beer pong table / Prince memorabilia / white truffle / white truffle oil MINNESOTA: mustache wax / iCare vape / parachute pants / hunting pack / electric surfboard MISSISSIPPI: mink coat / Apple Watch / Shake Weight / hoverboard / Bible / Uggs / Uggs for men / spy camera / overall / bell-bottoms / leg warmers / deer feeder / coffin / caskets MISSOURI: gun rack / garden gnome / potato gun MONTANA: M16 rifle / mudflaps / nunchucks / composting toilet / slingshot / bear trap / Beano / Birkenstocks / leather jacket / sewing machine NEBRASKA: UNO / fireworks / scented candles / personal massager / jorts / adjustable dumbbell set NEVADA: wine fridge / electric skateboard / Tao Te Ching / ugly holiday sweater / magic tricks / leisure suit NEW HAMPSHIRE: immersion blender / Ivanka Trump shoes / Edible Arrangement / rowing machine / dog coat / cargo shorts NEW JERSEY: Amazon Echo / Starter jacket / Gucci fanny pack / Prada perfume NEW MEXICO: PlayStation VR / digital camera / Bluetooth headphones / instant camera / jackalope / Baseboard Buddy / Chia Pet / dreamcatcher / brass knuckles / prayer flag / food dehydrator / cowboy hat / cosmetics / snow cone machine NEW YORK: fur clothing / Wearable Towel / Showtime Rotisserie / coyote urine / Payless boots that look like Uggs / tracksuit / women’s tracksuits / plaid golf pants / snakeskin shoes / platform sneakers / hemp necklace / hemp bracelet / men’s capri pants / Prada heels / mini wine bottles bulk NORTH CAROLINA: padded underwear / pet snakes / THC vape juice / laser tag set / dog Halloween costume NORTH DAKOTA: noise-cancelling headphones / George Foreman Grill / Total Gym / nickname / Jet Ski / Wii / capri pants / cat costume OHIO: Donald Trump tie / beard trimmer / nose hair trimmer / zombie garden gnome / Kate Spade fitness tracker / indoor putting green / denim vest / camo lingerie OKLAHOMA: sidewalk chalk / Kevin Durant jersey / ExtenZe / gas mask bong / throwing knives / Neodymium magnet toys / smoked ham / zombie survival kit / participation trophy / dog life jacket / 50 cal sniper rifle OREGON: homebrew supplies / clip-on ties / anti-snore pillow / hunting apparel PENNSYLVANIA: Amazon Fire Stick with Alexa / trigger lock / head massager / soap on a rope / mesh shirt / pinky rings / camo stethoscope RHODE ISLAND: rat trap / Speedos / bodysuit SOUTH CAROLINA: Amazon Fire TV / samurai sword / adult Underoos SOUTH DAKOTA: Exploding Kittens / Play-Doh / Cards Against Humanity / Catan / kegerator / slow cooker / Spanx / Ivanka Trump clothes / catheter / Lite-Brite / catapult / tube top / rod holders TENNESSEE: colostomy bags / adult coloring book / Dapper Dan Pomade / crack pipe / toupee / two-way radio / women’s overalls / bulk dog food / gator meat / Gucci mink coat TEXAS: Confederate flag bumper sticker / Igloo mini fridge / Hillary toilet paper / urinary catheter / truck gun rack / motorized kayak (the Rascal of kayaks) / cowboy hat rack / boot-cut jeans / five-toe shoes / 90s overalls / Daisy Duke shorts / leather cuffs / concealed carry corset / Nazi memorabilia / casket sprays / waterless urinal UTAH: Legos / mermaid tails / unicycle / Tanakh / Nintendo 3DS / belt buckle VERMONT: Selfie stick / Battleship / Slim Jim / Quran / Magic 8-Ball VIRGINIA: Thighmaster/ Bacon of the Month / hip flask / choose your own adventure books / puka shell necklace / bulk supplements / legal steroid / pet clothes WASHINGTON: temporary tattoo paper / emergency kit / emergency rations / earthquake kit / Canadian tuxedo / squid jig / crab pot / clam gun / shrimp pot WEST VIRGINIA: PlayStation 4 / Slip ‘N Slide / laptop / tablet computer / rebel flag / Flags of the Confederate States of America / mini fridge / Red Copper Square Pan / duct tape / Confederate flag bikini / futon / bong / handgun / shotgun / electronic cigarette / lingerie / plus size lingerie / Etch A Sketch / FitBit / moonshine still / Beanie Babies / bikini / pogo stick / Xbox One / NES Classic Edition / concealed carry purse / vape juice / creatine / anabolic steroid / butter churn WISCONSIN: truck nuts / Bacon Salt / Stihl chainsaw parts / The Sopranos Season 6 / Big Mouth Billy Bass / healing crystals WYOMING: Kindle Fire / Rubik’s Cube / ammunition / bulk ammo / P90X / Snuggie / Proactive / Bowflex / first aid kit / grenade / Fabletics (Kate Hudson’s workout clothing brand) / gas mask / gun safe / Turducken / Rumba / inline skates / bolo tie / long underwear / dog food / bagpipes / fishing pole / paintball / AK-47 / Colt AR-15 / bulletproof vest / body armor

#art inspiration #art #art prompt #united states #draw your state #trump #other relevant tags #usa #drawing

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backcountryquotes · 6 years ago

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Earl Howell Reed, The Dune Country, 1916

Page 9: While many interesting volumes could be filled by pencil and pen, this story of the dunes and the “back country” has been condensed as much as seems consistent with the portrayal of their essential characteristics.

Page 69: One morning we missed Billy, and we possibly have never seen him since. He may have answered “the call of the wild” and joined the black company that goes over into the back country in the morning and returns to the bluffs at night, or he may have fallen a victim to indiscriminating overconfidence in mankind — a misfortune that is not confined to crows.

Page 71: They probably flew over into the back country, where food was more abundant and where they were subjected to less observation.

Page 89: It was Sipes’s custom to take the old shotgun over into the marshes of the back country, and shoot ducks in the fall and spring. His ideas of killing ducks were worthy of the Stone Age, for it was meat that he sought, and not sport. He always “killed ‘em settin’,” and would “lay fer ‘em ‘till fifteen er twenty got in a bunch, an’ then let ‘em ‘ave both bar’ls.

Page 103: “Swanson an’ Burke took my gun an’ went over in the back country an’ shot some tame ducks an’ brought ‘em back to the shanty an’ wanted me to fix ‘em up to cook. When I was picking’ ‘em on the beach the owners come over. They’d heard the shots an’ they found some tracks an’ seen where they was some feathers. I told ‘em I didn’t have nothin’ to do with it, but as I was settin’ there undressin’ the fowls they seemed to think I had, an’ I had a lot o’ trouble fixin’ things up.

Page 108: Pete got in contact with a voracious bulldog, that came from somewhere over in the back country; and in the final analysis — in which the two animals participated — Pete was left in a badly mangled condition.

Page 112: “The real facts is ‘e lived over in the back country fer twenty years, an’ ‘e was chased into the hills by ‘is wife an’ mother-in-law fer good an’ sufficient reasons. He handed me all that dope oncet about some girl ‘e was stock on some ‘res down south. It’s all right fer an old cuss like ‘I’m to set ‘round an’ talk, but ‘e was just ‘avin’ dizzy dreams, an’ you fergit ‘em. If ‘e’d only tell the truth, the way I always do, ‘e wouldn’t never have no trouble, an’ folks would ‘ave some respect fer ‘I’m, like they do fer me.”

Page 118: John knew most of the outcasts along the beach for many miles. He occasionally visited some of them, particularly Sipes, to obtain extra supplies of fish, with an old gray horse and a dilapidated buggy frame — both of which were also rheumatic. On the wheels back of the seat he had mounted a big covered box for the fish, which he peddled over into the back country. Some of the fish were very dead, and the whole box was replete with mystery and suspicion.

Page 130: We proceeded about half a mile along the shore, and took the road that led through the sand hills into the back country. When we got to the marshy strip, we bumped along over the corduroy for quite a distance, but the road became better when we got to higher ground. As soon as we arrived on firm soil, Napoleon stopped. A fat man with a green basket was advancing hurriedly along the edge of the thin timber, about a quarter of a mile away, and the horse probably surmised that his coming was in some way connected with a rest.

Page 134: We approached a weather-beaten house standing near the road. A middle-aged woman in a gingham dress and brown shawl stood near the face. The nondescript rig had been seen coming. Travelers on the road in the back country are so rare that a passing vehicle is an event; it is always observed, and its mission thoroughly understood, if possible. In no case during the day were we compelled to announce our arrival.

Page 195: Among the most interesting of the marsh dwellers is the muskrat. This active little animal is an ever-present element in the life of the sloughs, and he is the most industrious live thing in the back country. His numerous families thrive and increase, in spite of vigilant enemies that besiege them. The larger owls, the foxes, minks, and steel traps are their principal foes.

Page 197: The muskrats are great travelers, and roam over the meadows, through the ravines, up and down the creeks, and around on the sand hills, in search of food and adventure. They run along the lake shore at night, and their tracks are found all over the beach. Their well-beaten paths radiate in all directions from their homes. They are not entirely lovable, but the back country would be desolate indeed without them.

Page 201: A man of perhaps forty, but who looks to be fifty, rather tall and spare, with bent shoulders and shambling step, appears after a few minutes. His shaved upper lip and long chin whiskers strictly conform to the established customs of the back country.

Page 203: Time slumbers in the back country. The weekly paper is the only printed source of news from the outside, and, with the addition of a monthly farm magazine, with its woman’s department, constitutes the literature of the home. These periodicals are read by the light of the big kerosene lamp on the table in the middle of the room, and the facts and opinions found in them become gospel.

Page 212: The stock of merchandise was varied, but there was very little of any one kind, except plug tobacco. Over a case containing several large boxes of this necessity of life in the back country was a strip of cardboard, on which was inscribed, “Don’t use the nasty stuff.” Under a wall lamp was another placard, “This flue don’t smoke, neither should you.” Other examples of the proprietor’s wit were scattered along the edges of the shelves, and on the walls, and helped to impart an individual character to the place. Among them were, “Don’t be bashful. You can have anything you can pay for.” “This store is not run by a trust.” “No setting on the counter — this means you!” “Credit gives only on Sundies, when the store is closed.” “Don’t talk about the war — it makes me sick.”

Page 215: It was indeed strange destiny that took the sardine, flashing his bright sides in the blue Mediterranean, and left him immured on a musty shelf in a store in the back country. It he, with the contents of the cans around him, could return to life, there would be a motley company.

Page 225: When the time comes to “git home to supper,” the dilapidated vehicles begin to crawl out into the fading light and disappear. They carry the pessimists and the few necessaries which they have bought at the store — some molasses, sugar, tea and coffee, possibly a new shovel, some nails, and always a plentiful supply of plug tobacco, a great deal of which is filtered into the soil of the back country. Some eggs, butter, vegetables, and other produce of the little farm has been left in payment.

Page 229: The road leading from the lake, through the sand hills, and the low stretches of the back country, over to the sleepy village, is broken — and badly broken — by numerous sections of corduroy reinforcements, which have been laid in the marshy places, across small creeks and quagmires. The portion of the road near the lake is seldom traveled. Occasionally, during the hot weather, a wagonload of people will come over from the sleepy village, and from the little farms along the road, and go into the lake to get cool. They will then spend the rest of the day sweltering on the hot sand to get warm, and return at night.

Page 232: In talking with Sipes, one afternoon, about some of the roads in the back country, he suggested that we take a walk over to the Judge’s house and see him. “The Jedge has got a map that’s got all them things on it. The ol’ feller deals in law, an’ land, an’ fire insurance, an’ everythin’ else.”

Page 256: The Winding River begins miles away and steals down through the back country. It curves and runs through devious channels and makes wide detours, before it finally flows out through the sand hills into the great lake.

Page 260: A crude mill-race has been dug parallel to the river’s course, and the clumsy old-fashioned wheel is slowly and noisily churning away under the side of the mill. The structure was once painted a dull red, but time has blended it into a warm neutral gray. Some comparatively recent repairs on the sides and roof give it a mottled appearance, and add picturesque quality. A few small houses are scattered along the road leading to the mill, and the general store is visible among the trees farther back, for the little boat has now come to the sleepy village in the back country. There are no railroad trains or trolley cars to desecrate its repose, for these are far away. Several slowly moving figures appear on the road. There is an event of some kind down near the mill, and the well-worn chairs on the platform in front of the store have been deserted. Whatever is going on must be carefully inspected and considered at once.

Page 263: The story of the eventful day percolates from the store off into the back country, and weeks later we hear it from a rheumatic old dweller in the marshy land, near the beginning of the sand hills. He unfortunately “wasn’t to town” at the time.

Page 280: Occasionally an imperfect or unfinished arrow or spearhead appears among the refuse, which the patient artificer discarded. Many perfect specimens are found, but these are seldom discovered near the sites of the rude workshops. They are uncovered by the shifting sands in the “blow outs,” where the winds eddy on the sides of hills that may have held their secrets for centuries, and turned up out of the fertile soil in the back country, by the plowshares of a race that carried the bitter cup of affliction to the aborigine.

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skitscratched · 8 years ago

Text

Hat - Chapter 4

Summary: Roger tours the Blues once more and finds a gem he missed the first go around.

Chapter 4 - Gol Arc: Red and Black

I haven't needed to do this in a long time, mostly because I didn't have any reason to talk to an audience in my head when I had Roger and Rayleigh with me. The amount of chaos that Roger got us in played a factor too.

It's been a busy 24 years since we Roger Pirates first set foot into the Grand Line. Paradise was just as crazy as the manga made it out to be, and I would know. I highly doubt that any other crew knows Paradise as well as us. Roger never dropped the habit of scouring an ocean as thoroughly as he could before moving onto the next. We spent seven years in Paradise, but that may have been a key factor in our survival in the New World.

In those seven years, the crew grew larger, we obtained the Oro Jackson, met Garp (and man he's insane. I swear, he pops up just when we least expect it.) and visited Skypiea. Let me tell you, it was not fun trying to ignore Roger when I accidentally let it slip that there was an island in the sky. There was no way I was going to win that fight, but it didn't stop me from trying.

And, well, the New World was certainly… something. We recruited some more members, though we started to take in less and less as time went on since we seemed to have all the necessary roles covered. From what I can tell though, most of what was supposed to happen, happened. Fishman Island for one, where Roger spoke to the sea kings, and meeting the Mink rulers for another. Considering that not much was known about Roger's time, I stand firm by my decision to only have Roger and Rayleigh know about me. Who knows what kind of chaos more knowledge of my existence would cause?

The New World was a lot more difficult to explore too. We spent 15 years moving from one island to the next, only to loop around several times to keep from missing anything. Except… It seems like too much has stayed the same. Roger still contracted that incurable disease. I don't know if it's because not enough is known about the New World, the machinations of fate, or because he had it all along and we were only finding out about it now, or what, but the reason why doesn't change the fact that Roger is dying.

I just… Roger and the others are no longer characters to me, they stopped being that once I got to know them. And after all these years, they're my closest friends, even if most of them don't know about me. And Roger, he was the one who I started all of this with. He was the one who asked me to stay when everyone else ran away. To see him die… For all that I never want that to come to pass, I can't muster the hope that there's a cure out there somewhere. Knowing the storyline is a burden more than anything else now.

Roger never gave up that hope though. He set us on course to the North Blue through the Calm Belt. From there, we headed to the East Blue. Nothing in either of those two Blues would be able to help, so we set course for the South Blue.

Now? I'm stuck with my idiotic captain in the middle of the sea with nothing but the clothes on our back because of his damn narcolepsy.

(I would give up everything, though, if it meant Roger would live.)

Growl.

"Ugh." Roger grunts as he lies prone on his small rowboat. "Foood."

:: Don't complain. You brought this entirely onto yourself. ::

Roger whimpers.

:: I've been constantly on the lookout for a ship and I haven't found any. Only you would get lost at sea with nothing but the clothes on your back for two weeks. ::

Roger's head rolls sluggishly.

:: I tried to wake you up when the storm started, but NOOO, your damn narcolepsy kept you asleep through it all. I keep telling you to take the medicine that Crocus gives you, but do you listen? ::

Roger attempts to swat at his Hat, but his hand doesn't even make it halfway before it drops onto the side of the boat.

:: You wouldn't have even been in hiding in this damn rowboat if you left Rayleigh alone instead of including him in that prank of yours. Really, how did you get those powder balls and firecrackers. I was with you the whole time. ::

Roger blinks. Slowly.

Sigh. :: Just go to sleep you idiot. I can keep looking even without you awake. ::

Roger's eyes don't open again. Despite knowing that Roger's just tired from hunger, Felix can't help but check on him periodically to make sure he's alive. His captain worries all of his crew, especially now with his illness plaguing him. This hunger can't be good for his state either.

Fortunately, Felix didn't have to wait long for someone to come across them. (He curses the dearth of sea kings in the blues and he doubly curses that he lacks a body to move them himself. Roger's metabolism had him unable to move much since half a week ago. And that's after Felix told him not to move to save energy.)

The strawberry-blond woman pauses as she sights a rowboat in the middle of the sea. She would have turned away and left it as a stray boat had it not been for the hand just visible on the side. On a whim, she turns her boat to it. She's feeling generous today.

She ties the boat to hers and sails back to her side of the island, unknowing of it's hungry and grateful passengers.

"Foood." Roger sits up groggily, nose following the scent of soup. He doesn't so much as look at it's transport and just takes the entire pot and steadily swallows it down.

It's only when he finishes that he reaches for his head and panics. "Felix! Felix where are you?"

"Are you talking about this hat?" The yellow straw and red ribbon pops into Roger's sight. Once again, he manages to ignore the voice as he snatches his Hat back.

"Felix!" He cheers, eagerly greeting his longtime companion.

:: ARE YOU AN IDIOT! THANK THIS POOR WOMAN ALREADY! ::

Roger winces at the unexpected scolding, finally taking notice of the woman in the room with him. "Eh? Who are you?"

:: My soul for a way to slap the shit out of you. I don't know how many times I've asked Goda for this, and I don't know how many more times I have to ask, but I will wait and I will savor it once I can. ::

The woman herself is ignorant of this exchange and simply raises an eyebrow. "I'm the one who hauled your sorry behind out of the sea, half dead from hunger. I'd think twice about what you say next."

Roger very nearly visibly reviews his last few memories. "Ah right. Felix told me to thank you for that."

:: You moron. ::

"Your… hat… told you to thank me." She flatly repeats.

"Ah! No!" Roger denies, looking panicked and untruthful. "My Hat can't speak to me at all!"

"Riiiight." She drawls. "You look like you have plenty of energy. Get out of my house."

"Eh?" Roger blinks.

She ignores him. "I expect you gone by the time I get back from town. If you're still here, I'll kick you out myself."

"But-" Roger cuts himself off when she leaves without another word. "... My crew isn't here."

:: You see? This is why I keep reminding you to not tell people. Now you just estranged the very nice lady who saved your life and fed you. ::

"Well, whatever." Roger sweeps himself of the couch. "I'm sure we can get someone in town to let us stay for a while until the others get here."

"What do you mean you're not open?" Roger whines. The clerk gives him a disturbed look. It was very strange to see a grown man act like a kid.

"Exactly what I said." The clerk repeats. "You arrived in the middle of July. Baterilla celebrates it as the month of the dead. During this month, we don't allow anyone to come and go as they please. In fact, much of the island prepares for this month by trading everything we can in June. It's unfortunate that you ended up here at this time, but until the end of May, no one will be willing to take anyone in. It's superstition that it'll offend the spirits that take the time to watch their family and friends. It looks like you have already experienced the way most people around here treat outsiders at this time of year."

Roger wipes off the mud on his clothes a bit more, but only manages to smear it around. "Yeah, I noticed. Did you know some people even went and made some mud to throw at me?"

"Ah, that might not be mud." Roger freezes and stares at his hand in disgust. "And that's exactly why I can't take you. If I make an exception for you now, it'll be bad for business in the future. Sorry, but you're on your own."

Roger sighs, but leaves, immediately getting hit with a glob of mud - He refuses to believe it's anything else. Only the lack of a particular smell lets him keep this belief. - from behind. When he looks back, the clerk ducks back into his hotel/shop, a dirtied hand telling who threw the mud at him.

"Well," Roger thinks at Felix. "Looks like we have to go back."

Roger gets a distinctly unimpressed vibe from Felix. :: You go do that. Let me know when you're tired of punishment. ::

"Hey!" Roger grins. "Looks like I need to stay with you until my crew comes!"

"No." She slams the door in his face.

Roger rapidly bangs on the door with both hands, falling on his knees. "Aw, come on! I can't stay out here until they come! I just need a place to stay."

Footsteps. Roger brightens and stands up.

He finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Bang.

He yelps as he ducks beneath it just in time to avoid the shot. It wouldn't have hurt him anyways, what with Armament and all, but she had no way of knowing that. Roger looks at her with teary eyes, looking very much like a downtrodden puppy.

She kicks his face and he's tossed back several yards. The click of several locks is very obvious in the next moment.

Undeterred, Roger moves to a window nearby. He smushes his face against it while her back is turned. She looks at him in disbelief when she notices. "Pleasepleaseplease."

She grabs her shotgun.

"LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!" She screams, brandishing her gun in his face.

"NO." Roger refuses, knocking the gun out of her hands at the same time.

"IT'S BEEN A WEEK, YOU CLEARLY DON'T NEED TO STAY WITH ME!"

"Don't wanna."

"AAAGGGHHH!" She stomps away, Roger nipping at her heels the entire time, dodging any attacks she throws at him with ease.

"You know," Roger remarks. "You're nothing like the cold, standoffish woman that the villagers describe you as."

"AND WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?" Her eyes narrow further. "You're an annoying, persistent bastard. You make me curse. Do you know how much it takes me to curse? A whole fucking lot that's what."

Roger grins. "You're not yelling at me anymore!"

"That's what you focus on?" She sighs and rubs her temples. "Well, what do you want? I don't want to deal with you anymore."

"What's your name?" Roger asks.

She gives him a flat look. "You were a pest to my nice solitary life because you wanted to know my name." She says slowly and clearly.

"Yep." Roger nods.

She closes her eyes. "And you couldn't ask the villagers, why?"

Roger's fist hits his palm. "Oh that's right. I could have done that."

Her hands twitch for her gun and she regrets leaving it behind. Oh well, she'll make due.

:: Why did I have to get hit! It was all your fault that she was so annoyed! ::

"You don't have a bump the size of a melon. Deal with it." Roger thinks as he rubs his head. Dammit, it still hurt. She might have subconsciously used Haki in that hit. That just makes her more interesting.

She turns and watches Roger before she enters her house. After a long moment she says, "You're not going to stop, are you." It's not a question.

"Nope."

"Why do you want to know my name so much?"

Roger looks into the sky. "Well… I just wanna."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course." She says sarcastically.

"AH!" Roger points at her with an aghast look on his face. "I completely forgot that I didn't tell you my name! I was supposed introduce myself first right?"

She blinks. "Wait, wha-"

Roger extends a hand and grins. "Nice to meet you! My name's Gol D. Roger!"

"D?" She asks, stunned.

"Yeah! It's because-"

"I know why." She cuts him off, piercing him with her stare. "What I don't understand is why you use it. Don't you know what it means to be a D?"

Roger tilts his head in thought. "I don't hide it because I'm proud of it, my parents gave me my name. They told me stories about what it meant to have a D too. Want me to tell you?"

Roger doesn't wait for her reply before he starts babbling, all the while dragging her inside to the couch where they could sit. Strangely, she doesn't resist as much as she could have.

"And that's the Will of D." Roger finishes with a soft smile on his face.

A long silence hangs in the air.

"My name is Portgas D Rouge." Rouge looks up. "And let me tell you what my parents told me about being D."

"Carrying out the will of the past?" Roger boggles. "That's nothing like what I grew up knowing!"

Rouge snorts demurely. "Well it's why I made the decision to live a quiet life. I don't know if someone that died wanted me to do something, but it's my life and choice. I won't have my desires decided for me."

Roger pouts. "And here I wanted to ask you to join my crew."

Rouge raises a palm. "No. I'm not leaving the island."

Roger opens his mouth and closes it just as fast at the stab of surprise from Felix, head snapping out to the sea. "They're here!"

:: Well, don't let them leave! Flare your aura already! ::

"Your crew?" Rouge asks, amused.

"Yeah!" Roger feels them moving closer to the shore after his signal. He grabs her hand. "Come on!"

"You sure I can't convince you to change your mind?" Roger asks Rouge, who rolls her eyes.

"No, I was perfectly happy before you shoved your way into my life. Hurry up and go already."

"Then!" He points a finger at her. "One day, I'll come back and show you that it's not so bad to be a D! It's a promise!"

Rouge doesn't splutter, but it's a close thing. "Who told you to make such a stupid promise!"

Roger laughs as he dodges her slap at his head and rapidly boards the Oro Jackson. He waves as the ship pulls away. "Remember! It's a promise!"

Rouge turns away and heads back to her house once they disappear from view, hiding the smile that she couldn't keep off her face. "What a ridiculous man."

So yeah, I’m caught up on the updates I posted on Fanfiction now. I’m not a fast writer so the next one will probably be up in about a week. Maybe two if the chapter fights me.

#Fanfiction: Hat #One Piece #Gen #Friendship/Adventure #OC #Gol D. Roger #Portgas D. Rouge

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