Jschlatt X Original Character - Blog Posts

This is the reader I'll be using for the series idea I mentioned in this post!

Alice - tattooed!reader

Alice makes vlogs with her twin brother, Mason, and their best friend, Astra.

Alice has tattoos littering her arms and is constantly at the gym. You’ll find her in a crop top, biker shorts, and her AirPods in. Outside of the gym, she loves a good bomber or leather jacket on top of a tank top. Her go-to pair of shoes is her beat-up pair of Doc Martens.

Alice who gets thirsted over online by her fans. She tries not to let it get to her head, but she can’t help it. She knows she’s hot.

Alice who lives in LA despite absolutely hating it there. She only moved there because Mason and Astra wanted to. She would much rather be living in their old midwestern hometown.

Alice who pretends not to care, but always notices when something’s off. She doesn’t flinch if someone yells, but will completely unravel if someone she loves cries.

Alice who, despite her rough exterior, is genuinely one of the nicest people you will ever meet. She can be sarcastically mean to you in one moment and then super sweet the next.

Alice who loves driving at night with the windows down and music loud enough to drown out her brain. She has exactly one playlist for lifting, one for crying, and one for when she feels like the hottest person alive.

Divider: enchanthings-a

Alice - tattooed!reader

Alice makes vlogs with her twin brother, Mason, and their best friend, Astra.

Alice has tattoos littering her arms and is constantly at the gym. You’ll find her in a crop top, biker shorts, and her AirPods in. Outside of the gym, she loves a good bomber or leather jacket on top of a tank top. Her go-to pair of shoes is her beat-up pair of Doc Martens.

Alice who gets thirsted over online by her fans. She tries not to let it get to her head, but she can’t help it. She knows she’s hot.

Alice who lives in LA despite absolutely hating it there. She only moved there because Mason and Astra wanted to. She would much rather be living in their old midwestern hometown.

Alice who pretends not to care, but always notices when something’s off. She doesn’t flinch if someone yells, but will completely unravel if someone she loves cries.

Alice who, despite her rough exterior, is genuinely one of the nicest people you will ever meet. She can be sarcastically mean to you in one moment and then super sweet the next.

Alice who loves driving at night with the windows down and music loud enough to drown out her brain. She has exactly one playlist for lifting, one for crying, and one for when she feels like the hottest person alive.

Playlist!

Divider: enchanthings-a

Big Bad John

Summary: In the town of Ghostridge, Georgia, Dollie Sheppard runs a quiet saloon where nothing ever really happens. That is until Big Bad John passes through town. He’s supposed to be a legend, a ghost story. But he’s real, he’s handsome, and nothing Dollie expected. With tensions rising, Dollie finds herself caught between the law, her past, and the man with a reputation that could ruin them both.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia ❀ Cowboy Like Me ❀✮ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy ✮❥ But Daddy I Love Him ❀✮

“Saying me, me, me, me, me more cowboy than you!”

“Me More Cowboy Than You” by The Brudi Brothers

Divider: elleisdesigning

Big Bad John [Part 4] - But Daddy I Love Him

2,389 words Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. Dollie and Charlie plot to get John out of jail. A/N: Final chapter! I had so much fun writing this series, y’all have no idea.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Divider: elleisdesigning

“Too high a horse

For a simple girl to rise above it

They slammed the door on my whole world

The one thing I wanted

Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

Screaming ‘But Daddy I love him!’”

“But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift

Sheriff Clyde Sheppard has had quite an interesting day. A little past noon, he had three boys in his Sheriff’s station claiming “Big Bad John” was in town and staying at his daughter’s saloon. 

Their claim led to Sheriff Sheppard sending his assistant, George, to go check it out and he confirmed that John was indeed staying at the saloon.

Clyde was pissed. His own daughter harboring an outlaw in her saloon? This simply will not do. 

So, he devised a plan. In the morning, he would show up at her saloon and drag John out and imprison him. Clyde doesn’t like the idea of an outlaw cowboy running amuck in his town. He’ll get him out one way or another.

Dollie stands in her doorway with a shocked look on her face as she faces her father. Charlie stands a few paces behind her and John stands around the corner, out of view.

“Daddy,” Dollie says, trying her hardest to keep her voice even. “What are you doin’ here?”

Clyde sighs. “Step away, Dollie,” he says. “I know he’s here.”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know who.”

Charlie shifts uncomfortably behind her, clearly wanting no part in this.

Dollie crosses her arms, blocking her father’s path like she could physically stop him if she tried. “You didn’t think to ask before showin’ up here?”

Clyde’s eyes narrow. “I got boys in my station claimin’ ‘Big Bad John’ waltzed into town like he owns the place. And from what George tells me, he’s been stayin’ here.”

Dollie swallows hard, but doesn’t budge. “He ain’t causing no trouble.”

“Yet,” Clyde snaps. “He’s an outlaw, Dollie. You know what men like him do. You think you’re the exception? You think you’re safe?”

“He ain’t what people say he is,” Dollie says. “I’ve seen more decency in him than the men you play cards with every Sunday.”

“Don’t you start,” Clyde says, stepping closer. “You’ve already disrespected me enough by lettin’ him in that door.”

A tense silence falls over them. Around the corner, John’s hand moves to his pistol, but he doesn’t draw. Not yet.

“Who I let into my saloon is my choice to make,” Dollie says.

Clyde scoffs. “You lettin’ that man stay here isn’t just a poor choice, it’s a crime.”

Charlie clears his throat. “Now, hold on,” he says, trying to calm them down. “Maybe we should all just take a second-”

“No,” Clyde says. “I’m here to drag that outlaw out of here and put him where he belongs.”

John steps into view.

“Ain’t lookin’ for trouble, sheriff,” John says. 

Clyde locks eyes with John. “Then why are you still breathin’ my town’s air?” he asks.

“Because your daughter offered me a roof and I gave her my word that I’d cause no harm,” John replies.

“Your word?” Clyde turns to Dollie. “And you believed that?”

“I did. Still do,” Dollie says.

Clyde lets out a humorless laugh, stepping forward until he’s toe-to-toe with her. “You think that man’s different from the rest of ‘em? You think outlaws just stop bein’ dangerous ‘cause they look at you soft?”

John tenses. Dollie places a hand on his arm to hold him back.

“He ain’t dangerous,” Dollie says. “Not like you are right now.”

Charlie takes a cautious step forward. “Sheriff, maybe there’s another way to settle this that doesn’t end with bullets flyin’. Folks in town don’t need the drama.”

Clyde’s gaze stays firmly planted on John. “Drama’s already here, Charlie. And it’s wearin’ a damn vest.”

John lifts his chin slightly. “I didn’t come to cause problems. But I’m not gonna let you treat me like some rabid dog either.”

Clyde looks him up and down. “Then let’s settle this the way men do.”

Dollie’s stomach drops.

“Tomorrow. High noon. You and me, outlaw,” Clyde says. “One shot each. You win, I let you stay. You lose…” he glances at Dollie. “Well, you leave town and leave my daughter alone.”

“You can’t be serious,” Dollie says.

“I’m the law in this town,” Clyde snaps. “And this is me bein’ merciful.”

John crosses his arms, staring him down. “Fine.”

Dollie turns to him. “John-”

“It’s the only way, Dollie,” John says.

Clyde reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of iron cuffs. “And you’ll be staying the night in my jail. That way I know you ain’t gonna run.”

John nods.

Clyde steps toward him and puts the cuffs around his wrists. 

As they start for the door, Dollie calls out, voice trembling with rage. “You think this makes you a hero, Daddy? Arrestin’ an unarmed man in front of your daughter?”

Clyde pauses in the doorway. “No, baby girl. This makes me the sheriff.”

And then they’re gone.

The room goes quiet. 

“So, what now?” Charlie asks.

Dollie turns around, looking defeated. “I don’t know Charlie.”

Charlie stays with Dollie for most of the day. She cries - a lot - until Charlie is struck with a plan.

“There’s a trapdoor under the floorboards in the jail,” Charlie says, leaning into Dollie. “The tunnel goes all the way out to the General Store. I used it once back when your daddy was still a deputy.”

Dollie stares at him. “Is it still usable?”

“Should be,” Charlie says. “They sealed it up, far as I know. Just covered it up with some old boards. Your daddy probably forgot it exists.”

Something sparks in Dollie - hope. She has a chance to get John out of this predicament and save his life - and her father’s.

“We could sneak in at night,” Charlie says. “George don’t stay the night and your father will be sleepin’. I’ll go through the tunnel and get John, while you stay at the other end with one of my horses. Then…” Charlie trails off, looking a bit guilty.

“Then, what?” Dollie presses.

“Well, then he’s goin’ to have to get out of here, Dollie,” Charlie says, looking at her with sad eyes. “He can’t stay in town.”

Dollie looks down at her feet. 

“I know, Charlie,” she says. “But I don’t want him gone. I want him here. With me.”

Charlie sighs, stepping closer to Dollie. “This is the only way. John needs to leave town.”

“Let me go through the tunnel to get him,” Dollie says.

“Dollie…”

“Please, Charlie,” Dollie says. “I need to see him one last time.”

Later that night, Dollie meets Charlie behind the General Store. He brings his horse, Patsy. She’s got a beautiful, brown coat and a black mane. Dollie pets her as she neighs affectionately.

“Alright,” Charlie says, he approaches the wall and taps his foot on the ground. “The hatch should be around here somewhere.”

He taps his foot around some more before finding a hollow spot. He bends down to brush away some loose hay to reveal a hatch. He yanks it up to reveal steps leading down into a tunnel.

“Woah,” Dollie gasps.

Charlie turns around to look at her. “You know the plan,” he says. “You’ll go and get John and then bring him back here so he can make his escape.”

“Yup,” Dollie says. She stares at the steps for a while, debating if she truly wants to do this. 

Charlie notices the hesitation on her face. “You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Dollie says. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous. Feels like I’m goin’ down there just to say goodbye.”

Charlie’s gaze softens. “You are, but it’s better than watchin’ him die at noon.”

Dollie sighs. She knows he’s right. It’s better for John to get away knowing he’s alive rather than him stay and he dies. But she’s afraid she might never see him again and she doesn’t want that.

“You’re right,” Dollie says. 

With that, Charlie hands her a lantern as she steps down into the tunnel and makes her way through. The tunnel is shabby, the walls and floor cracked in some places. The air around her feels thick and damp.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to say when she sees him. Or how she’s going to walk away when she already feels like she’s leaving herself behind with every step.

She walks through it for what feels like forever before finding a trapdoor at the end of the tunnel. She sets down the lantern and uses all her strength to open it, trying not to make any sound.

The trapdoor softly creaks as it opens and she sees John sitting on a cot, staring at the floor with his head in his hands.

“John,” Dollie whispers.

His head snaps up and his gaze meets hers. “Dollie?”

She pushes the trapdoor up more and pulls herself up to stand in the cell. John immediately rushes to her and tightly wraps his arms around her.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asks, his voice soft.

“Gettin’ you out of here,” Dollie whispers. “There’s a tunnel. Charlie helped me.”

John exhales through his nose, half a laugh, half a sigh. “‘Course he did.”

They stand there for a moment, wrapped in each other. He smells like smoke and iron and dust, and she wants to breathe him in until she forgets what it’s like to be alone.

“You’re not stayin’, are you?” she asks quietly.

John pulls back just enough to look at her, and the answer’s already in his eyes.

“I can’t, Dollie. Your daddy won’t stop ‘til one of us is six feet under.”

“I know,” she says. “I hate it.”

He brushes his thumb across her cheek. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I had to,” she says.

He leans in and kisses her - slow, full of everything he can’t say out loud. It’s the kind of kiss that tastes like goodbye and something worth fighting for all at once.

When they part, he rests his forehead against hers. “I love you, Dollie Sheppard.”

She stills.

“I love you too, Jonathan Schlatt,” Dollie says.

And she means it. Sure, she’s only known the guy for a few days, but it feels like she’s known him for a lifetime. She feels like she knows him better than she does anyone else.

“Come on,” she says softly. “We gotta go.”

She lowers herself back into the tunnel and John follows close behind. 

They barely speak as they follow the tunnel out. Speaking feels too final - like it really is a goodbye. Like they both know that they’ll never see each other again. Like there’s no hope.

Eventually, they reach the end of the tunnel.

“Finally,” Charlie sighs. “I was beginning to worry that you got caught.”

“Luckily, we didn’t,” Dollie says.

“Well, John,” Charlie says. “This here is Patsy. She’s one of my horses. You can use her to get out of town.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” John says, walking over to pet her.

He looks back at Dollie, who’s standing a few feet away, holding back tears. He pulls her into another hug and puts a hand on the back of her head. 

“I’ll come back for you,” he says quietly, kissing her forehead. “I promise.”

She looks up at him, a tear rolls down her cheek. John reaches a hand to caress her cheek, wiping away her tears. 

“I’ll wait,” Dollie whispers.

He doesn’t say when, doesn’t make empty promises about how soon. Just gives her that look - like she’s the only thing anchoring him to this earth. Like walking away might kill him more than any bullet ever could.

“I don’t want to let you go,” she says.

“I know,” he says, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “But if I stay, he’ll win. And I ain’t lettin’ your daddy be the reason you bury another man you care about.”

That one hits deep. Dollie swallows hard and nods.

Charlie clears his throat softly in the background - he’s trying to give them space, but time’s running short. They all know it.

John steps toward Patsy, gives her a pat on the neck before putting one foot in the stirrup and swinging himself into the saddle. He’s silhouetted against the night, tall and dark and unshakable like the legends say he is, but Dollie knows better. She’s seen the man underneath the myth.

He pulls on the reins, then looks down at her one last time.

“You keep that saloon runnin’, y’hear?” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And don’t let your daddy sell it out from under you.”

“I won’t,” she says. “I’ll keep a bottle of whiskey behind the bar with your name on it. Just in case.”

John gives her a final nod, then turns Patsy toward the dark stretch of open land beyond the general store. The hooves clatter quietly at first, then fade into nothing but wind and memory.

Dollie stands there long after he’s gone, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold something in that’s already slipping away.

Charlie steps beside her. “You alright?”

She nods, but her voice comes out barely above a whisper. “I will be.”

Years later, Dollie will be tending to the bar. A polished-looking man will waltz into her saloon. She’ll recognize him by his eyes and his tamed mutton chops

He’ll walk up to her bar and take a seat. He’ll tell her he’s a changed man - dropped the cowboy life and became a banker. He’ll tell her he’s looking for work. He already talked to her dad and he reluctantly agreed to let him stay in town, but if he causes any trouble, he’s gone.

She’ll drop a glass on the floor out of shock of her father’s kindness, causing it to shatter. 

He’ll help her clean it up and pull her into a long awaited hug. Then, he’ll ask if she’s married.

She’ll say no - she waited years to be back in his arms. Her father tried to marry her off a few times but she always found a way to get out of it.

He’ll ask for her hand in marriage. 

She’ll say yes as long as her daddy approves.

He’ll tell her he already asked and he said yes.

They’ll marry and live together in a small cottage just outside town. Dollie will keep tending to the saloon. John will get a job in town as a banker. And they will finally be happy together.

Previous Part

To add onto this, I was thinking about maybe doing it in first person and make it sort of diary-esque? And I might purposely put the chapters out of chronological order. So one chapter may take place in September 2021 and the next in November 2019 idk.

Hear me out.

I want to write a Schlatt fic in which the chapters are out of order (each takes place at a different point in time). The MC and Schlatt are sort of in this situationship. It takes years for them to finally realize their true feelings for each other. (Sort of inspired by One Day except there's no sad ending because I don't like sad endings.)

I hope this made sense. I can't wait to start writing it. 😜

Hear me out.

I want to write a Schlatt fic in which the chapters are out of order (each takes place at a different point in time). The MC and Schlatt are sort of in this situationship. It takes years for them to finally realize their true feelings for each other. (Sort of inspired by One Day except there's no sad ending because I don't like sad endings.)

I hope this made sense. I can't wait to start writing it. 😜

Big Bad John [Part 3] - Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

1,487 words Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. What the title says. NSFW / MDNI A/N: The smut took me forever to write. I’m no good at smut so if it’s bad, I’m sorry.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

Divider: elleisdesigning

“And I was going, just about as far as she'd let me go

But her evaluation of my cowboy reputation

Had me begging for salvation all night long”

“Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” by Big & Rich

Dollie lays in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The scene of John kissing her replays in her head. 

After the kiss, their conversation continued a bit before John called it a night and they returned to their rooms.

She's restless, constantly shifting positions to get comfortable, but to no avail. 

Finally, she gets up and goes into the hallway. A soft light coming from the kitchen casts shadows on the walls. Dollie turns the corner to see John sitting at her kitchen table, drinking out of a glass of water. 

“Couldn't sleep?” John asks as Dollie enters the room. 

“No,” Dollie says. “Kept tossin’ and turnin’. You?”

“Same,” John says. 

Dollie crosses over to her cabinets to grab a cup and fill it with water. She turns around to look at John as she leans against the counter. 

The two are silent for a moment. The tension of their kiss from earlier still twists in the air. She can still feel his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands still lingering on her skin. 

She knows he feels it, too - the ghost of the kiss shared between them, lingering in the silence.

John leans back in his chair, looking at Dollie. “So, that kiss,” he says. “You regret it?”

Dollie exhales, taking a sip of water before setting her cup down on the counter. “Do you?”

“No,” John says, sighing. “But I wonder if you should.”

Dollie cocks her head, a confused look on her face. “Why’s that?”

John looks away, shaking his head. “I ain’t a good man, Dollie,” he says. “I got a past full of trouble.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to be a saint, John,” Dollie says.

He looks back at her. “You should.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Dollie studies John for a moment - his hands make fists at his side and his jaw is clenched.

She scoffs. “You think I ain’t been hurt before?”

“Not the way I mean,” John says.

She walks over to the table, placing her hand on the table in front of him and leaning over him. “You keep talkin’ like you got some kinda say in what I do, John. Like you get to decide what’s best for me.”

His gaze flickers at her. “Maybe I ain’t got no say,” he says. “But that ain’t stoppin’ me from carin’.”

Dollie stills at that. He said it so simply. Like she hadn’t heard that from men like him - men who come and go and don’t leave much behind but their shadows. 

She watches him, how he won’t quite meet her gaze, like he’s waiting for her to call him a liar. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she takes another step closer, standing between his knees.

“John,” she says, her voice a little softer now. “You really think I’m scared of a bit of trouble?”

John finally looks into her eyes, his lip twitching slightly, like he wants to smile, but won’t let himself. “Ain’t a little trouble I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

Dollie tilts her head, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Maybe I don’t care.”

John exhales slowly, his hands making their way to her waist. “You should,” he murmurs, but there’s no longer any weight behind his words.

Dollie smirks. “You keep sayin’ that, but you ain’t exactly pushin’ me away.”

John chuckles. “I’m not,” he says.

A quiet moment passes between them and John pulls her in a bit closer.

Dollie’s fingers travel along his jaw, tracing patterns in his thick mutton chops. “You gonna kiss me again, cowboy?”

John doesn’t respond - at least not with words.

He reaches up to cup her cheek, pulling her toward him. Their lips meet in a slow, deliberate kiss like they know they shouldn’t be doing this but can’t bring themselves to stop.

Dollie sighs into his lips, her fingers tightening against the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. His other hand slides up her back, holding her in place as if she’ll slip away.

“Dollie,” John breathes. 

“Yes, John?” Dollie asks, pulling away from his mouth.

John looks her up and down. “Can we please go to my room?”

Dollie nods.

John moves quickly to scoop Dollie off her feet bridal-style. Dollie giggles as he carries her to his room, nudging the door open with his boot and gently setting her down on the bed. But there’s nothing gentle about the way his lips find hers again - desperate, urgent. 

His hands roam her body with reverence and hunger, like he’s trying to memorize her by touch alone. 

“Dollie,” he breathes as he kisses down her jaw and neck. “You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.”

Dollie laces her fingers into his hair, pulling him back up to her lips. “Then show me.”

That’s all he needs.

John smirks. He slips off her nightgown, tossing it away as he pushes her back against the mattress, his weight pressing into the creaky bed. He starts to unbutton his shirt while Dollie fumbles with his belt buckle.

He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the floor, revealing a body marked by a life on the run - scarred, tanned, and worn in the only way real cowboys are. He then helps Dollie with the belt buckle before throwing his belt across the room and pulling off his jeans and boots. 

Dollie looks up at the man in front of her, admiring him.

John chuckles, noticing her stare. “Ain’t much to look at, I’m afraid,” he says.

“You’re beautiful,” Dollie says. And she means it. Every inch of him is something she wants to explore - to cherish.

John moves to press his weight into the bed once more. “You’re killin’ me,” he says, half in awe, half in agony. “I ain’t ever wanted somethin’ like I want you.”

Their lips crash into each other again. John’s hands rub tiny circles into Dollie’s hip.

Dollie slips a finger into the waistband of John’s boxers. “Take these off,” she breathes.

He does as she tells him, his hard cock bobbing up as he does so. His hands slide down her body to do the same to her.

When their lips meet once more, there's a beat of stillness. No bravado, no games. Just John and Dollie together as if it was always meant to be that way. 

John lines up with her entrance and thrusts into her. Dollie gasps at the feeling of him filling her up. 

When he moves inside her, it's slow and deliberate - like he's savoring each second, like this may be the only time they do this. His breath stutters against her neck as he rocks into her. 

“God, Dollie,” he moans. “I ain't gonna last.”

“You don't have to,” Dollie says. “Just stay with me.”

And he does. Every touch, every kiss, every gasp is full of the kind of need that borders on devotion. 

They move together as if they've done this hundred times before in a dream. Like fate brought John into the saloon for them to find each other. 

John gives his last few thrusts through both of their climaxes, pulling out and laying down next to Dollie. He places his head on her chest. Dollie moves a hand to his head, scratching it gently. 

The room is quiet except for the sounds of their quiet breathing - slow and uneven as if they're trying to come back to earth. 

Eventually, they both drift off to sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms. 

The next morning, the sound of frantic knocking wakes up Dollie. She pushes John off of her, quickly slips her clothes back on, and gets up to walk over to her door. 

She opens the door and Charlie comes stumbling in - his eyes wide and body trembling. 

“Charlie, what is it?” Dollie asks, reaching out to steady him. 

“Your father,” he gasps, catching his breath. “He uh - he found out about John stayin’ here. He's not happy about it. Says he's on his way.”

“Shit,” Dollie breathes. “Shit, shit shit.”

She rushes over to John's room to wake him. 

“John, you need to leave,” she says. 

John sits up, trying to gather his clothes and groggily puts them on. “Why? Was last night that bad?” he asks, chuckling a bit. 

Dollie stares at him. If she wasn't so terrified of her father, maybe she'd laugh too. “It was amazing, John. But seriously, you need to get out. My father found out that you're here.”

John's eyes widen, he starts to move faster, trying to get his clothes on. 

But it's not enough. 

When Dollie opens the door to let John leave, her dad is standing on the other side. 

Previous Part - Next Part

Masterlist!

Fluff - ❀ | Angst - ✮ | Smut - ❥

Jschlatt

Series ೃ⁀➷

midnight. you come and pick me up, no headlights. (ao3) ❀✮❥ Almost, Maybe ❀✮ Big Bad John ❀✮❥

Readers ೃ⁀➷

tattooed!reader Supercut (COMING SOON)

Dividers: thecutestgrotto

Guys I promise Big Bad John Part 3 will be out soon. 🙏 it's a smut chapter and I always get stuck writing smut. I will try to get it out as soon as possible! ❤️

Big Bad John [Part 2] - Cowboy Like Me

1,415 words Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. Dollie and John get to know each other a bit more. A/N: Sat my ass down and managed to write this chapter in about three hours. 💪

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Divider: elleisdesigning

“You're a bandit like me

Eyes full of stars

Hustling for the good life

Never thought I'd meet you here

It could be love

We could be the way forward

And I know I'll pay for it”

“cowboy like me” by Taylor Swift

Dollie leads John upstairs and shows him her spare room. It’s not much - quite small, the wallpaper is tattered and coming off the wall in some places, the furniture is quite old, and the bed squeaks when you sit on it. But it’s a place to sleep.

“Well, here’s my spare room,” Dollie says.

John grunts in response. He walks into the room, looking around before sitting on the bed with a loud squeak.

“My room is just down the hall,” Dollie says. “If you need anything just holler.”

“You got any spare clothes?” John asks.

Dollie juts her head toward the wardrobe in the room. “Should be some clothes in there, but don’t count on it. I don’t get visitors a whole lot.”

John nods. “Alright, thank you,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” Dollie says before shutting the door and walking to her room.

Dollie lay awake that night, her mind restless as she thought about John. He wasn’t what she expected. Not at all. The stories painted him as some ruthless outlaw, a gunslinger with blood on his hands, but the man sitting in her saloon tonight had been quiet, almost careful. There was something in his eyes - something thoughtful, something tired.

Her father wouldn’t see that, though. He was the sheriff, and to him, an outlaw was an outlaw. If he found out she had given John a place to stay, there’d be hell to pay.

The next day, Dollie gets up bright and early to open the saloon. She makes a quick breakfast for herself and leaves some out for John when he wakes up. 

She goes downstairs into the saloon and does her normal opening tasks before her first customer walks in.

John finally joins her about midday. The folks in the saloon give him wary glances as he walks up to the bar.

“You heading out?” Dollie asks.

John sits down at the bar and looks up at her. “Think I’ll stick around for a few more days if that’s alright.”

“‘Course,” Dollie says. “My saloon is always open to ya, John.”

John smiles. “Good to hear,” he says. 

“Can I get ya anything to drink?” she asks.

“Just a whiskey.”

“You bet.”

Dollie pours him a drink and goes back to serving other customers. 

She’s not sure how much time has passed, but eventually the sun starts to set. Golden rays of light pour in through the saloon’s windows. 

Just as she’s about to start polishing glasses, a group of three men burst into her saloon. They all wear similar tattered clothes and each wear a cowboy hat. She doesn’t recognize them, but she gets plenty of folks she doesn’t recognize in her saloon all the time.

“How can I help you, boys?” Dollie asks.

“We heard Big Bad John’s in town,” one man says. “Heard he might be here. Just wanted to pay him a visit.”

By the way the man is looking at her and how he said John’s name, Dollie isn’t sure these guys are looking for a friendly chat. But before she can say anything, John gets up and approaches them.

“That would be me,” John says. “What can I do you for?”

“Well, you see,” says another man. “We caught wind of you passin’ through town. You killed our brother a couple years ago. We’ve come to get payback.”

John looks like he’s sizing the three men up. He’s studying them intently, planning his next move. She notices a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. 

Dollie doesn’t like it.

Silence settles in the saloon - thick, heavy. Some patrons back away, some leave entirely. Dollie herself isn’t sure what to do. 

One man shifts on his feet, his hand moving toward his holster.

John takes notice. “Now, I don’t want any trouble,” he says, putting his hands up. “If you boys are smart, you’ll walk away.”

“Is that so?” the man who spoke first - likely the leader - asks. “Funny. Last I heard, Big Bad John doesn’t walk away from no fight.”

Before John can respond, Dollie slams her hand down on the table with a loud thud. The men look at her. 

She shakes her finger at the leader. “That’s enough,” she says. “I don’t care what unfinished business y’all think you got, but it ain’t gettin’ settled under my roof.”

“This ain’t your fight, lady,” the leader sneers.

“It sure is when it’s happening in my saloon,” Dollie retorts. “Now, unless you boys are lookin’ for a drink, I suggest you run along.”

The man who had been reaching for his gun scoffs. “You think you can just send us packin’?” he asks.

“I don’t think,” Dollie says. “I know. This is my saloon. You start trouble, I promise you won’t like how it ends.”

The leader scoffs and juts his chin toward the door. “Let’s go,” he says. “But this ain’t over.”

“It is for now,” Dollie says.

The men make their way toward the door, glaring at Dollie as they do so. She watches them leave and listens as the sounds of their heavy boots get quieter and quieter. 

After a few moments, the saloon goes back to its normal hum of conversation. 

Dollie turns back to John who has returned to his seat at the bar. “You sure do know how to attract trouble,” she says.

John smirks, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not my fault folks don’t know when to let things go.”

She rolls her eyes. “Next time, don’t bring it into my saloon.”

Later that night, Dollie and John stand on Dollie’s balcony, sharing a cigarette. The cool night air feels good on her face and she can just barely see John in the moonlight.

They sit quietly for awhile, just taking turns with the cigarette.

“So, Dollie,” John starts. “How’d you get to own the saloon?”

“Grandpa owned it before me,” she says. “I practically grew up in the saloon. Mom died when I was quite young and dad didn’t know what else to do with me while he was working, so he’d dump me here durin’ the day. Grandpa taught me how to tend the bar when I was about eleven. He taught me everything I know. After he passed, I inherited the saloon. Been runnin’ it by myself ever since.”

“Sorry about your grandfather,” John says.

“Don’t be,” Dollie says, taking a drag of the cigarette before handing it to John. “It happened a while ago.”

The two are quiet for a moment, taking in the night breeze.

“What does your dad do?” John asks, breaking the silence.

Dollie chuckles a bit. “He’s the sheriff, actually.”

She looks over at John - even in the dark, she can see his eyes go wide. 

“He doesn’t know you’re here,” Dollie says. “My dad and I… we ain’t on the best of terms. He don’t approve of me runnin’ the saloon. In fact, he wanted to sell it after grandpa died, but legally, it’s mine. Now, Dad’s set on marrying me off to some guy and convincing him to sell the saloon. But he ain’t found anyone to marry me yet.”

John nods, not adding anything.

“How’d you get into the cowboy life?” Dollie asks.

John exhales, watching the smoke swirl into the night air. “Didn’t have much of a choice. My old man worked cattle. Taught me how to ride and shoot. Figured out real quick that life ain’t always fair. You either get tough or get left behind.”

Dollie studies what she can see of him for a moment, seeing something deeper in his words. “That why you left? To find something better?”

John smiles softly. “Something like that.”

Dollie leans on the railing, very aware of the way John’s side presses against hers. “You ever think of leavin’ the cowboy life behind?” she asks.

John turns his head, his gaze meeting hers in the moonlight. “Some days,” he says.

Neither of them says anything for a moment. The air feels heavier, charged with something neither of them are quite ready to name. 

Without thinking, Dollie shifts closer. John hesitates for only a second and leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. The kiss is slow and tentative, almost like they’re feeling this out, trying to figure out what the other is thinking.

When they pull apart, John chuckles. “I didn’t see that comin’,” he says.

“Me neither,” Dollie says, smirking. But she definitely doesn’t regret it.

Previous Part - Next Part

I finally finished the first part of my cowboy!schlatt fic. Rejoice. 🙏

Big Bad John [Part 1] - The Devil Went Down to Georgia

Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character.  A/N: Brain worms got me. 😔✊ Divider: elleisdesigning

In the old town of Ghostridge, Georgia, nothing ever really happened for someone like Dollie Sheppard. She ran the town's saloon after her grandfather died. Most of her days were spent pouring drinks and dealing with the occasional rowdy drunkard. Folks passed through her saloon all the time telling stories about outlaws, shootouts, and menacing figures that haunted the West like ghosts. But in the quiet town of Ghostridge, Dollie didn’t witness any of that herself.

There was one outlaw in particular that Dollie heard the name of a lot: Jonathan Schlatt. Most folks called him “Big Bad John.” He was the kind of legend that made men shiver and women clutch their children a little tighter.

They say he comes into town dressed in all black, his gun visible at his side. Some even claim he’s killed several people, but no one ever says the same number - it’s always either two, five, or even thirty.

Dollie doesn’t believe in fairytales, and sure as hell doesn’t believ in ghost stories. Hell, she’s not sure “Big Bad John” even exists. Folks come into her saloon spouting phony make-believe over a glass of whiskey all the time. 

That was, until he walked right into her saloon saloon.

One moment, she’s standing behind the bar, polishing glasses while making small talk with Ol’ Charlie. The next, the doors to her saloon fly open and a man scrambles in, his eyes wide and full of terror.

“It’s him! It’s Big Bad John!” the man shouts.

Panic spread through the saloon like wildfire. Chairs scrape against floor as men try to hide under tables. A few darted for the exit, practically tripping over themselves in their haste. The only ones who didn’t move are Dollie and Charlie.

Dollie scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Y’all really believe that nonsense?” she asks. 

No one said a word. 

Then, she heard it. Heavy boots against the wooden planks of the saloon floor. Slow. Deliberate. The kind of footsteps that belonged to a man who wasn’t in a rush, because he didn’t need to be.

Dollie lifted her gaze as the man entered her saloon.

He was tall, at least a foot taller than her, and built like a man who’d spent his years taming the land rather than letting it tame him. Dressed in dark jeans, a belt with a large silver buckle, and a maroon button-up beneath a black vest, he carried himself with the kind of ease that only came with experience. A long black leather coat hung from his shoulders, dust clinging to the edges like he’d ridden through hell and back to get here. A black cowboy hat cast a shadow over his face, but when he stepped fully into the light, Dollie caught sight of sharp brown eyes and neatly trimmed mutton chops.

Something about his demeanor makes Dollie freeze for a moment.  Was this actually Big Bad John? He looked dangerous. But not in the way people had described. He wasn’t the monster they had painted in their stories—he was something else entirely.

She stood behind the bar, watching him closely as he makes his way to the bar and sits down. He reaches for his hat, taking it off and setting it on the counter. 

“What can I get for ya?” Dollie asks.

The man looks up at Dollie. She feels captivated by his good looks.

“Whiskey, neat,” he says.

“Coming right up,” she says, reaching for a glass and pouring the man a whiskey. She slides the glass across the counter to him. “There you are. Enjoy.” She smiles at him.

Dollie goes back to polishing glasses and speaking to Charlie. Slowly, the other saloon patrons go back to whatever they were doing before this mysterious cowboy entered the saloon.

“Can I get another?” The cowboy asks. 

Dollie pours him another. “So, cowboy, where ya from?” she asks. 

“All over,” he says. 

Dollie nods, not pressing. “And your name?” she asks. 

“That a habit of yours? Getting to know every man who walks through that door?” 

Dollie looks him in the eye. “Just want to get to know who’s sitting in my saloon,” she says. 

“Your saloon?” he asks. “You run this place?”

“Indeed, I do,” she says. “Now, are you going to tell me your name or what?”

He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Jonathan Schlatt,” he says. “But most call me John.”

“Like Big Bad John?” Charlie pipes up.

John chuckles. “Yes, like Big Bad John - if that's what they're calling me,” he says. 

“Well, welcome to my saloon,” Dollie says. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem so big and bad to me.”

John chuckles. “Is that so?”

“If I believed all the stories, I’d be shaking in my boots right now,” Dollie says. “But you’re just another man looking for a drink, huh?”

John lets out a low chuckle. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the right time to prove ‘em right.”

Dollie doesn’t flinch. “If you were going to prove ‘em right, I figured you would’ve done it by now.”

John smiles. “Smart lady.”

Charlie let out a laugh. “I like this one, Dollie. Seems like he’s got some sense.”

John tipped his glass toward the man. “I try.”

Dollie leaned forward, placing her elbows on the bar. “So, tell me, John. How does a man get a reputation like yours?”

John exhales. “People like to talk. Sometime’s a story is better than the truth.”

She considers this. “I get that,” she says.

The the three of them - Dollie, John, and Charlie - talk until Dollie closes the saloon. Charlie eventually heads out, but John stays.

“So, where can a man get a place to sleep around here?” he asks.

“Well, there is an inn down the road, but they may not let you in. Not too many folks like ‘Big Bad John’ around here,” she chuckles.

John chuckles as well. “I guess that’s true.”

The two are quiet for a moment before Dollie gets an idea.

“You know,” she says. “You could stay here. I live above the saloon. There’s a spare room.”

“That would be nice,” John says. 

“Alright, follow me, then,” Dollie says before leading John upstairs.

Big Bad John [Part 1] - The Devil Went Down to Georgia

1,040 words Summary: Cowboy!Schlatt x original character. Dollie gets an unexpected guest in her saloon. A/N: Brain worms got me. 😔✊

[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Divider: elleisdesigning

“Nobody seemed to know where John called home

He just drifted into town and stayed all alone

He didn't say much, he kinda quiet and shy

And if you spoke at all, he just said, "Hi" to Big John"

“Big Bad John” by Jimmy Dean

In the old town of Ghostridge, Georgia, nothing ever really happened for someone like Dollie Sheppard. She ran the town's saloon after her grandfather died. Most of her days were spent pouring drinks and dealing with the occasional rowdy drunkard. Folks passed through her saloon all the time telling stories about outlaws, shootouts, and menacing figures that haunted the West like ghosts. But in the quiet town of Ghostridge, Dollie didn’t witness any of that herself.

There was one outlaw in particular that Dollie heard the name of a lot: Jonathan Schlatt. Most folks called him “Big Bad John.” He was the kind of legend that made men shiver and women clutch their children a little tighter.

They say he comes into town dressed in all black, his gun visible at his side. Some even claim he’s killed several people, but no one ever says the same number - it’s always either two, five, or even thirty.

Dollie doesn’t believe in fairytales, and sure as hell doesn’t believe in ghost stories. Hell, she’s not sure “Big Bad John” even exists. Folks come into her saloon spouting phony make-believe over a glass of whiskey all the time. 

That was, until he walked right into her saloon.

One moment, she’s standing behind the bar, polishing glasses while making small talk with Ol’ Charlie. The next, the doors to her saloon fly open and a man scrambles in, his eyes wide and full of terror.

“It’s him! It’s Big Bad John!” the man shouts.

Panic spread through the saloon like wildfire. Chairs scrape against the floor as men try to hide under tables. A few darted for the exit, practically tripping over themselves in their haste. The only ones who didn’t move were Dollie and Charlie.

Dollie scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Y’all really believe that nonsense?” she asks. 

No one said a word. 

Then, she heard it. Heavy boots against the wooden planks of the saloon floor. Slow. Deliberate. The kind of footsteps that belonged to a man who wasn’t in a rush, because he didn’t need to be.

Dollie lifted her gaze as the man entered her saloon.

He was tall, at least a foot taller than her, and built like a man who’d spent his years taming the land rather than letting it tame him. Dressed in dark jeans, a belt with a large silver buckle, and a maroon button-up beneath a black vest, he carried himself with the kind of ease that only came with experience. A long black leather coat hung from his shoulders, dust clinging to the edges like he’d ridden through hell and back to get here. A black cowboy hat cast a shadow over his face, but when he stepped fully into the light, Dollie caught sight of sharp brown eyes and neatly trimmed mutton chops.

Something about his demeanor makes Dollie freeze for a moment.  Was this actually Big Bad John? He looked dangerous. But not in the way people had described. He wasn’t the monster they had painted in their stories - he was something else entirely.

She stood behind the bar, watching him closely as he made his way to the bar and sat down. He reaches for his hat, taking it off and setting it on the counter. 

“What can I get for ya?” Dollie asks.

The man looks up at Dollie. She feels captivated by his good looks.

“Whiskey, neat,” he says.

“Coming right up,” she says, reaching for a glass and pouring the man a whiskey. She slides the glass across the counter to him. “There you are. Enjoy.” She smiles at him.

Dollie goes back to polishing glasses and speaking to Charlie. Slowly, the other saloon patrons go back to whatever they were doing before this mysterious cowboy entered the saloon.

“Can I get another?” The cowboy asks. 

Dollie pours him another. “So, cowboy, where ya from?” she asks. 

“All over,” he says. 

Dollie nods, not pressing. “And your name?” she asks. 

“That a habit of yours? Getting to know every man who walks through that door?” 

Dollie looks him in the eye. “Just want to get to know who’s sitting in my saloon,” she says. 

“Your saloon?” he asks. “You run this place?”

“Indeed, I do,” she says. “Now, are you going to tell me your name or what?”

He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “Jonathan Schlatt,” he says. “But most call me John.”

“Like Big Bad John?” Charlie pipes up.

John chuckles. “Yes, like Big Bad John - if that's what they're calling me,” he says. 

“Well, welcome to my saloon,” Dollie says. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem so big and bad to me.”

John chuckles. “Is that so?”

“If I believed all the stories, I’d be shaking in my boots right now,” Dollie says. “But you’re just another man looking for a drink, huh?”

John lets out a low chuckle. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for the right time to prove ‘em right.”

Dollie doesn’t flinch. “If you were going to prove ‘em right, I figured you would’ve done it by now.”

John smiles. “Smart lady.”

Charlie let out a laugh. “I like this one, Dollie. Seems like he’s got some sense.”

John tipped his glass toward the man. “I try.”

Dollie leaned forward, placing her elbows on the bar. “So, tell me, John. How does a man get a reputation like yours?”

John exhales. “People like to talk. Sometimes a story is better than the truth.”

She considers this. “I get that,” she says.

The three of them - Dollie, John, and Charlie - talk until Dollie closes the saloon. Charlie eventually heads out, but John stays.

“So, where can a man get a place to sleep around here?” he asks.

“Well, there is an inn down the road, but they may not let you in. Not too many folks like ‘Big Bad John’ around here,” she chuckles.

John chuckles as well. “I guess that’s true.”

The two are quiet for a moment before Dollie gets an idea.

“You know,” she says. “You could stay here. I live above the saloon. There’s a spare room.”

“That would be nice,” John says. 

“Alright, follow me, then,” Dollie says before leading John upstairs.

Next Part

Started writing it today. 🫡 I have about 3-4 parts planned and there's just so much angst omg.

Thinking about cowboy!schlatt. May need to let the brain worms take over and write it.

I just finished a particularly long Schlatt fic on ao3. 18 chapters. 35k words.

midnight. you come and pick me up no headlights.

Summary: Nora Parker is a content creator who makes cooking videos. She meets Schlatt at a party, and he pisses her off. He agrees to do a cooking stream with her to make up for it.