#that's fine you don't have to do that just to look at an animal doing funny thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

renranram · 19 hours

Note

I just need to say I absolutely love your account 🤭 I am now definitely a regular on here🙈 I was wondering if you could make a one-shot where Jschlatt and reader meet through a friend and they instantly click with some flirting here and there :))

Party Talking

sfw!

fem!reader ( very awkward n chill )

a typical confession love story wah wah wah

use of y/n!

“ you need to socialize more “ that's the last thing you heard from, ted, your childhood bestfriend stated before dragging you to a party thst you aren't fond of

you sat on the couch, awkward as you drink your fruit punch, hating the taste of beer on your lips

you fumble with your fingers as you sigh out, glancing at the open door but seeing ted playfully glaring at you, not wanting you to leave yet

you groan out in defeat, as you stand up about to refill your fruit punch, before bumping into schlatt, “ hey lil lady, watch where you're going “ he chuckles, “ you alright? “

“ oh uh yeah “ you mumble, slowly nodding as he looks at you before patting your head, “ ive never seen you before, name's schlatt “ schlatt introduces himself

you nod again, stating your name, “ nice to meet you schlatt “ you gave him an awkward smile before chuckling, “ you look tense, did someone drag you here? “ he jokes noticing the empty cup before offering, “ you want fruit punch? i can fill some for you “ he offers as you nod slowly handing him the cup

“ ted dragged me here “ you mutter, “ he said i should socialize “ you added as schlatt scoops some fruit punch, “ oh i get it, you're an introvert? or you just don't like big crowds? “ he asks

“ both “ you reply, muttering a small thank you as you get your cup back, “ … wanna be friends? “ schlatt asks, looking at you as you nod again

“ im sorry if im pretty awkward.. im just not good with talking “ you state as schlatt gave you a small nod, “ i understand, not everyone has good socializing skills “

the two of you sat on the couch again, “ …do you like cats? “ he asks, surprised seeing your eyes sparkle in interest, “ i have a cat actually! “ you smile brightly

and god, the two of you talked and talked for hours until the party was over, “ y/n? y/n? “ ted calls out for you, interrupting yours and schlatt’s conversation as he finally spots you both

“ woah, what do we have here? “ ted raises his eyebrow as you chuckle softly, “ i got my same a new girl friend “ schlatt shrugs, smug, as ted nods, “ im so proud, seeing both of my best friends getting along “ he dramatically faked a sob as schlatt playfully yet gently punches him causing the three of you to laugh

“ but fun’s over now, ill drop you home y/n “ ted hums, showing you that it's 11pm now “ oh… dang “ you slowly stand up watching schlatt as he gave you a reassuring nod, “ well… i guess i gotta go home too “ schlatt states, sighing as he stood up

as you got home, you got confused receiving a chat from a random number

*** ***** ****

< hey! this is schlatt from

the party, i forgot to ask

for your number so i

asked ted 😁

oh hiii >

uhhhh >

this is awkward >

< lol it's totally fine can i

ask you something?

< if you don't mind of course

< haha

yeah of course sure >

< you down… to go with

me? there's a new cat

café opening somewhere

it's fine if you don't want

to go but yeah if you're

free at saturday id be

happy to go with u 😁

oh! >

i'm definitely free >

of course ill go with u! >

what you didn't know was schlatt was staring at your message, kicking his foot like an anime girl, a small blush on his cheeks, rolling around his bed

this continued on for weeks, meet ups here and there, small dates, the both of you just clicked and god it was making schlatt crazy how you two are just friends

but he knows one day he needs to man up, grow some balls, and tell you how he felt and that day, was this one

the two of you stroll at a nearby park, taking both of your cats for a walk, he steals glances at you, he tries to act non chalant but he tremendously fails, him stammering his words, almost slipping, it was getting bad for him

“ you alright jay? “ you ask him, a tone of concern in your voice, “ you look red… like really red “

he breathes out, shaking his head, “ no god hahaha… it's nothing.. it's just so hot “ he mumbles, looking away, “ schlatt… it's winter “ you state as the two of you pauses, chuckling in unison

“ okay okay im sorry “ he breathes out, “ ive been thinking about something” he mumbles, looking at you

“ about what? “ you ask, as you two stop, looking at eachother, was this the right time? is she okay with this? does she even like me back? schlatt mentally asks himself

looking at your eyes with adoration and anxiety, his fingers fumbling, jambo’s and soup’s lead, “ holy fucking shit “ he whispers

“ you okay? “ you ask, gently resting your hand on his arm, thinking he was cold, as schlatt reddens more

“ fuck okay, i need to tell you something okay? “ he breathes out, looking at you intently

“ … okay? “ you chuckle softly, rubbing your hand on his arm

“ i like you y/n… i know it's been weeks of us just meeting but god you're the most amazing woman i know, you're kind, sweet, friendly, just… everything about you is just so lovable it's making me insane to think that we're just friends… im so glad you attended that party because if you didn't i would've never met you- “ he rambles, but you gently cut him off with a peck on his cheek

“ i like you too schlatt “ you smile, “ more like jared “ you manage to tease him, getting a loud laugh at him, lifting you up as he spun you, smiling cheek to cheek, “ holy shit i love you so much “ he rains kisses all over your face, fixing your hair as he smiles at you endearingly

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #schlatt #sleep deprived podcast #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt fluff #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fluff

34 notes · View notes

lcdrarry · 3 days

Text

LCDrarry 2024 Round-Up Post | Week 4

On Sundays during our posting period, we won't post a new work, instead you have time to catch up with the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!

PPS: Please share far and wide! Thank you!!

***

Podfic

***

"My Big Fat Weasley Wedding" by slyth_princess

Prompt: “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, 2002, Joel Zwick Written by: slyth_princess Narrated by: Anonymous Podfic Length: 07:17:21 Rating: Mature Warnings: None

Summary: A decade after the war, Harry Potter is lost. There was a time when he knew exactly who he was, where he was going, and what he wanted. He is not that man anymore. Until one day he decides he is done. No more wearing clothes that don't fit, stuck in a job that was meant to be temporary, and simply coasting through his life. He has a plan. And, unsurpisingly, every single Weasley and honourary Weasley seems to have an opinion about it. But it's fine. Harry knows he is doing the right thing.

What he didn't plan for, however, was to find love in the most unexpected place. And with the most unexpected person. Still, it's going to be fine. Like he said, he has a plan. Weasley opinions be damned. He's got it all under control. Doesn't he?

Featuring a million Weasleys, a daft labrador, and a whole bunch of people just trying to figure out their lives.

Listen to it now on AO3.

***

Fic

***

drag the past out into the light

Prompt: "Se7en", 1995, David Fincher Prompted by: MoonyEmilie3017 (ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 20,796 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: There's a serial killer stalking magical London. The murders are gruesome, bizarre, and somehow connected to the Voldemort wars. Auror Harry Potter is paired up with an analyst from the Department of Mysteries to piece together the clues in the killer's unsettling game before they kill again.

The good news? This analyst is the best one on offer. The bad news? It's Draco Malfoy.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Count On Me

Prompt: "Put Your Head On My Shoulder", 2019, Netflix Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 23,044 words Rating: General Audiences Warnings: fake dating, forced cohabitation

Summary: University students Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy run into each other one day. Literally. On bikes. After that, they can't get away from each other, no matter how hard they try. And then, it seems, they might not want to. Based heavily on the C-Drama "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" on Netflix.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Theme and Variations

Prompt: "Rush", 2013, Ron Howard Prompted by: @sleepstxtic Author: Anonymous Word Count: 24,890 words Rating: Mature Warnings: brief mentions of (canonical) child abuse

Summary: Draco had fucked him over, yet again. Harry was sick of it.

With music swelling from the orchestra below, lights beating down on him hard enough to break a sweat before the first variation, the audience rapt with attention, this should have been the greatest moment of Harry’s life. But it wasn’t. Of course Draco fucking Malfoy had to ruin this for him too.

Harry took a shaking breath and began to dance.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Happiness Seems to be Loneliness

Prompt: "Saltburn", 2023, Emerald Fennell Prompted by: @themiddleofwonderland (Amazuppai on ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 29,811 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Unhinged Harry Potter, Dark Harry Potter, Obsessive Harry Potter, Character Death, Animal Death, Fat Shaming, Minor Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Inspired by Saltburn (2023), References to Frankenstein, Necrophilia, Off-scene suicide (mentioned)

Summary: Fucking Pansy was like fucking a fish. or Drarry meets Saltburn

Read it now on AO3.

***

Love Will Abide

Prompt: "The Last of Us", Episode 3: "Long, Long Time", 2023 Prompted by: @somethingveryodd (newskyillusion on ao3) Author: Anonymous Word Count: 39,547 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide

Summary: Harry and Draco survive the apocalypse. This is what happens after.

Read it now on AO3.

***

White, Blonde & British

Prompt: “Red, White & Royal Blue”, 2023, Matthew Lopez Prompted by: Moon_Peach Author: Anonymous Word Count: 40,058 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Mentions of death, drug and alcohol use and abuse, homophobia, racism, discrimination

Summary: Prince Draco Malfoy is known all over the world as “The Modern Day Prince Charming”, ask anyone - well, anyone except for Harry Potter, first son of the Indian president and (self) sworn rival of said stuck-up, snobbish prince.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Creator reveals are on 15 June.

35 notes · View notes

pleasantlycrazyworld · 3 days

Text

Losing your pet.

Triggers: pet loss; talks of depression.

Author note: I had to put my cat to sleep at the beginning of the month, he was my baby so things have been really rough lately. I'm hoping writing this will help with grieving and it may be posted it may not be. If it is I hope it helps anyone who is also experiencing something like this.

Eddie:

You call him when you were freaking out about what to do. You were awoken by your animal crying out and knew they needed a vet but it's so early in the morning you don't know where to go.

When he got the call he was instantly worried for you. He knew how much having your animal helped you cope with your depression and he didn't know how losing them would make you react.

He rushed over and took you two to the 24 hour vet.

He was there to hold you as you cry, he talked to the vet for you, he called the place to make arrangements for the remains

He'd offer to have you either stay at the trailer or for him to stay at your house. He thought being in a quiet house would make you feel worse and since it happened in your room he knew you wouldn't be able to sleep in your actual bed for a while.

The two of you slept on your couch for a week after everything happened.

He would set even more reminders to help remind the both of you that you need to take your medicine

I think he would have you come and sit in on a DnD session to give you entertainment and take your mind off of things, he'd feel pretty prideful when it works

He wouldn't rush you to do anything. There is still a box of litter, still a collar, still toys on the floor oh thats fine! We can get rid of it whenever you are ready to. You want to get a new pet great! Let's get into the van! You don't even want to be around animals that's fine too!

He will map out the store trips to make sure you do not have to even walk by the pet supply aisle if you can't handle it

Steve:

He paid for everything. He knows money doesn't fix much but he didn't want you to be worried about paying for anything.

He never had a pet but he knew how close you were with your pet and he knew you were going to take it hard.

He would make sure you ate and took your medicines, he isn't the best cook but he can do basics so it was about a week of mac and cheese before you started cooking again.

He had you stay at his house, he would worry about you being alone so he made a plea deal and convinced you to stay with him. It's already pretty big and there is more than enough room for the both of you

He would try and get you a new pet better soon after everything happened

I think he would try and get you to talk about your feelings, either by making you therapy appointments or getting you stuff to journal he doesn't want you to keep things bottled up

He tends to treat it as any other heartbreak. There will be days where you two just eat junk food and watch sad movies and when that happens he doesn't mind holding you as the both of you cry into your bowls.

Billy:

Alot of people would probably say Billy wouldn't be that helpful.

I think he would struggle with knowing what to do, he could tell you were struggling but he freezes when he doesn't know what to do.

He would make some sort of comment that made you start crying and that is when he realized how serious this situation was. "It was just a cat/dog/bird/lizard/etc. get over it." Seeing you break down in front of him was his wake up call.

He would bring take out everytime he came over, he'd act like it wasn't a big deal but he knew how much it meant to you.

I think if you were to journal it would be because of Max and if/when Billy tried to make fun of the new habit you both would give him a look that made it clear to back off and he took the warning loud and clear.

I think the next time he sees a stray he would pull over and try and take it home for you. He either comes home with the animal successfully or he comes home covered in scratches and is refusing to speak about what happened.

43 notes · View notes

theodorenmyth · 2 days

Note

Kissing ron weasleys cute freckles and braiding his cute ginger hair. Imagine him going around Hogwarts with 2 tiny braids amongst his hair and his friends teasing him about it. And imagine every time you tease him ab stupid shit like "do the curtains match the drapes?" He blushes and if you tease him even more he'd get soooo red it's hilarious and makes you wanna kiss his heated face

Freckles and Braids

Pairings : Ronald Weasley x GN! Reader Summary : You were giving him a makeover by braiding his hair A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : nothing Word count : 1k+

The sun was setting over Hogwarts, casting a golden glow over the castle and its grounds. The Gryffindor common room was abuzz with students finishing their homework and chatting about the day's events. Amidst the noise, you sat on one of the plush armchairs, watching Ron Weasley from across the room. His vibrant ginger hair caught the light, making it look like flames dancing around his head.

Ron was deep in conversation with Harry and Hermione, his face animated as he recounted something funny that had happened in Potions class. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of his freckled face lighting up with laughter. Those freckles, scattered across his cheeks and nose, were one of your favorite things about him. You'd often daydream about kissing each one, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips.

As if sensing your gaze, Ron looked up and caught your eye. He gave you a small, shy smile, which you returned with a wave. An idea sparked in your mind, and you beckoned him over with a mischievous grin.

Ron excused himself from his friends and made his way to you, curiosity evident in his blue eyes. "What's up?" he asked, plopping down on the armrest of your chair.

"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Weasley," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"I was thinking," you began, leaning in closer, "how would you feel about a little makeover?"

His eyes widened, and a blush started to creep up his neck. "A makeover? What kind of makeover?"

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small hairbrush and a couple of hair ties. "Just a little something to make you even cuter," you said with a wink.

Ron chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know…"

"Come on, it'll be fun," you coaxed. "And besides, I bet you'll look absolutely adorable."

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Alright, fine. But if anyone laughs, I'm blaming you."

You patted the seat next to you, and he obliged, sitting down and facing you. Gently, you started brushing his hair, the strands soft and smooth under your fingers. Ron watched you with a mixture of amusement and nervousness.

As you worked, you couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "You know, Ron, I've always wondered if the curtains match the drapes."

His face turned beet red, and he stammered, "W-what? What does that even mean?"

You laughed, enjoying his flustered reaction. "Oh, you know exactly what it means."

Ron groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You're terrible."

"But you love it," you teased, carefully parting his hair to make the first braid.

He peeked at you through his fingers, a reluctant smile playing on his lips. "Maybe."

You continued braiding his hair, taking your time to make sure each braid was neat and even. The whole process was soothing, and you found yourself getting lost in the repetitive motion. Ron, too, seemed to relax, the tension easing from his shoulders as you worked.

When you finished the first braid, you secured it with a hair tie and started on the second. "Almost done," you murmured.

Ron hummed in response, his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for him. Finishing the second braid, you tied it off and leaned back to admire your work.

"There," you said softly. "All done."

Ron opened his eyes and reached up to touch the braids. "How do I look?"

"Adorable," you said, grinning. "Absolutely adorable."

He blushed again, but this time he smiled. "Thanks, I think."

"You're welcome," you replied, leaning in to kiss his freckled cheek. "Now, let's see what the others think."

Ron groaned again, but he stood up and turned to face the rest of the common room. Harry and Hermione looked up from their books, and their eyes widened in surprise.

"Blimey, Ron," Harry said, trying to stifle a laugh. "Nice braids."

Hermione giggled. "They actually suit you."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

But despite his words, he didn't seem too upset. In fact, he looked a little pleased with the attention. You stood up and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Come on," you said, leading him to the fireplace. "Let's sit by the fire for a bit."

He followed you, still holding your hand, and you both settled down on the hearth rug. The warmth of the fire was comforting, and you leaned against Ron's shoulder, feeling content.

"Thanks for letting me do this," you said quietly.

He looked down at you, a soft smile on his lips. "Anytime."

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other's company. Every now and then, you'd steal a glance at his braids, feeling a sense of pride that you had made him look so cute. And every time you did, Ron would catch you and blush, which only made you want to kiss him even more.

Eventually, the common room started to empty as students headed to bed. You and Ron remained by the fire, talking about everything and nothing. You teased him about his hair, about his freckles, and about the way he blushed so easily. And every time you did, he'd turn that lovely shade of red that you adored so much.

"Do the curtains match the drapes?" you asked again, just to see him blush.

Ron groaned, but there was a smile on his face. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never," you said, leaning in to kiss his heated face. "It's too much fun."

He shook his head, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"I suppose I can live with that," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

You smiled, closing the small gap between you with a soft kiss. "Good," you whispered. "Because I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon."

And with that, you kissed him again, feeling his freckles beneath your lips and his warmth surrounding you. It was perfect, and you knew that as long as you had moments like this, you could handle anything Hogwarts threw your way.

36 notes · View notes

sleekervae · 2 days

Text

The Bride [0.3]

Masterlist

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Eleanor Gets Fired

Warnings: foul language, violence on animals, black eye, mentions of murder

Word Count: 4,452

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

"Kid Antrim Escapes Silver City Jail"

"Jail Guard Loses Armed Robber"

"Armed Robber, Billy Antrim, In the Wind"

The headlines were splashed across the newspaper the next day, with chatter and gossip taking Silver City by storm. People were baffled, curious, and terrified with that they'd read; a "dangerous man" was on the loose, who wouldn't be terrified? When Eleanor read that headline, she said a silent prayer that Billy wouldn't return to Silver City.

Life continued on for her. She's work days the ranch and nights at the saloon, keeping her head down and working hard to scrape up as much money as she could. Jesse would still come around for information on Billy Matthews' cattle, they didn't talk about Billy. No matter how much Eleanor wanted to ask if he'd heard anything, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction to comfort her. Sure, she was indebted to him, but she still didn't trust him.

It was a regular Wednesday morning on the Matthews ranch. The cowboys were herding and taking care of the livestock, bringing eggs and milk to Eleanor in the kitchen as she whipped up lunch for everybody. The sun was pouring in from the open window, the heat just bordering bearable between the oven and the stove, and Eleanor continued to knead her bread dough in silence. Jesse and his gang wanted a new map for the cattle, and she had to wait until Matthews was far from his office before she could snoop around.

"Miss Aubert?" she looked up at the call of her surname. One of the ranch hands were standing in the doorway, sweat-stained with callous hands folded, "Mr. Matthews wants a word with you,"

Eleanor cocked her head, curiosity and apprehension forming in her gut. Matthews had never called for her before.

"I'm in the middle of making his lunch," she said matter-of-factly.

"He said he wants you on the porch. Now," the ranch hand shrugged back, "He don't sound too happy,"

In the back of her mind, Eleanor had a feeling what was about to happen. So, she wiped her hands free of dough, cleaned up her station, and followed the ranch hand outside. Matthews was sitting in his usual porch chair, watching the rest of his cowboys rustle up and saddle his horses and cows. Matthews was an old man, but intimidating all the same with his dark, heavy under eyes, stiff upper lip, and a cigar clenched between his fingers.

Eleanor approached him cautiously, putting on a friendly smile, "You wanted to see me, Mr. Matthews?"

Matthews glanced up at her, his stiff glare softening into a smile of his own, "Yes. Yes I did, Miss Aubert,"

"Eleanor is just fine, sir,"

"Right," he put his cigar between his teeth, turning his gaze back to his ranch, "You see the mare over there, Eleanor?" he pointed out to the fencing. Eleanor looked out, and sure enough there was a mare amongst the other horses, just a bit smaller than the others, but majestic and strong nevertheless.

"Yes, sir,"

"I bought that mare last spring, she was supposed to mate with my horses, give me some babies to raise, make my stock stronger," he drawled, "I just found out last week that this particular is barren. She's no good. Just another dumb fucking animal on a farm,"

Eleanor nodded, confused as to where he was taking this, but she stayed empathetic, "That's terrible," she muttered.

"Yeah, yeah it is," Matthews nodded, "But that's life, you get disappointed. And when you get disappointed, you can either do something about it, or sit there and continue to be a doormat," he ten turned to her, "So now... I have to put that mare down,"

Eleanor glanced at him in disbelief, "Sir... she's a perfectly good horse, isn't she?" she asked.

"Well, yes. But she's not doing what I needed her to do. And therefore, I have no use for her," he kept his gaze fixed on Eleanor, whatever friendly demeanour he had at the beginning was quickly melting away into something more sinister, "Just like I have no use for you,"

Eleanor swallowed back the growing lump in her throat, "I beg your pardon?"

"I know what you've been up to. You think you're pretty damn smart, don't 'cha'? Hm?" his lips pressed together in a thin line, his greying eyes darkening, "What were you doing in my office the other day? Don't deny it, you were seen,"

Eleanor shook her head, trying to grasp at threads, "I'm sorry Mr. Matthews, I don't know what you're talking about,"

Matthews' grin returned, he glanced back at the cowboys who were none the wiser, "You don't know what I'm talking about..."

Eleanor stood stiff as a board, waiting, anticipating just what he'd say next. However, she didn't anticipate he'd shoot up from his seat and back hand her across her face, her hard brass of his ring indenting just under her eye.

Eleanor stumbled and fell backwards, her butt landing hard on the porch wood. Matthews stood over her, seething with rage.

"You don't know what the fuck I'm talking about!?" he screamed, hands fisted tight, veins bulging in his forehead and his face going red. The commotion grabbed the attention of the cowboys.

Eleanor turned back over, the sting from his knuckle nothing compared to the fear swelling in her chest. He continued to shout down at her, his teeth gnashing and spit flying.

"You think I haven't noticed how my cattle have disappeared since I dun' hired you? You think you're smarter than me, don't you? I've got more thoughts in my little finger then you do in your whole body!" he held up his hand and Eleanor feared her may hit her again, "Say something!"

"I'm sorry!" Eleanor shouted back, though she knew no apologies would soften him none, "I'm very sorry!"

Matthews scoffed, lowering his hand and relaxing his shoulders, "You sorry you let rustlers steal my herd? Or are you sorry you got caught?" his hand then went to his belt holster, and a renewed sense of fear filled her. He wouldn't actually shoot her in front of all these people... would he?

"Benjamin!" he suddenly roared, "Bring me that dull mare!" no, she feared he was going to do something much worse.

Eleanor watched, her heart in her throat as Benjamin lassoed the mare and lead her over to the porch. She was absolutely beautiful, dappled grey with big, soulful eyes and a pristine white face. She met Eleanor's gaze, and from how she shifted from hoof to hoof, it was clear she could sense the rising tension, the fear in the air.

Matthews pulled out his gun and cocked it, checking the barrel for his ammunition.

"Mr. Matthews... please, don't do it," Eleanor begged, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

Matthews hummed to himself, looking back down at the young girl, "You know what I do to people who betray me, Miss Aubert?" he asked.

Eleanor didn't even have time to close her eyes before he raised his gun, and with perfect precision he shot the mare between her eyes. Eleanor couldn't even scream, couldn't bare to look at the blood that splattered on the porch wood, nor the frozen stare on Benjamin's face as the mare fell to the ground, dead.

Matthews stood unfazed, watching Eleanor pitifully. His gun stayed clasped tightly in his hand, "Now you have a choice, young lady," he grumbled, "Either you can get the fuck off my property and I won't call the sheriff, or you can be next, and your body will be weighed down in the lake,"

Eleanor had to compose herself. On shaky legs, she pushed herself back to her feet, stumbling a few times as she walked off the porch. She looked back only at the poor horse, her heart breaking all over again at the sight of the lifeless mare. Taking a deep breath, she turned her back on the scene and started walking, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The air was eerily silent now, the brutal act hanging in the air like a suffocating fog. Matthews stood behind her, unfazed, his gun still in hand. Eleanor walked fast, fearing he may have second thoughts about using that gun on her. And fuck -- her eye hurt really bad.

She didn't know what she would say to Jesse, could just imagine how pissed off he would be when he'd learn she'd been fired. Maybe he wouldn't have any use for her, maybe he'd kick her out to fend for herself. As much of a bitch she knew he was, Eleanor knew that she still needed Jesse as much as he needed her.

While Eleanor grappled with her own struggles, Billy was trying to start anew. He had no family, no friends to rely on—just a horse he’d stolen, some meager provisions, and the hope that strangers might show him some kindness. But those strangers often proved to be more detrimental than helpful.

Billy fell in with a career felon and con man. Sure, the man helped him get an honest job as a rancher, but trusting him only led to more trouble. Billy lost his job when the felon fatally shot the rancher. Then, accused of stealing horses by a blacksmith (which, to be fair, he did, but no one else needed to know), Billy found himself in deeper trouble. In the chaos, he fatally shot the blacksmith.

Billy had never killed anyone before, never thought he’d have the guts. The closest he came was with his own stepfather, but that was different—he only wanted to scare him. The gun just… went off. Now, as he sat by a dwindling fire, the weight of his actions pressed down on him. He was in too deep, too far gone to find an easy way out. The life he’d hoped to build seemed more distant with each passing day, leaving him to wonder if he’d ever escape the shadows of his past.

He knew what his mother would say. As much as he wanted to forget it all and move on, he was still a good person. And as a good person, he knew he had to do the right thing.

He showed up in the aforementioned town, ready to face the court and plead his case for self-defense. But just like in Silver City, he quickly learned that the court system here wasn't interested in his side of the story, in how he tried to save himself. The wanted posters with his face plastered all over them certainly didn’t help his case.

But if there was one good thing Billy had going for him, it was his charm, and his brain. And sure enough he was able to escape jail again, disappearing just like before.

He was without a horse, having him and his belongings stolen by the Apache. So Billy was left to wander the frontier, a ghost, a nobody that one would blink and miss in the distance. He missed his old life, his mom, his brother, the friends he'd made and had to leave behind. He wondered if those friends thought about him, if Jesse or Eleanor cared to think about him.

Eleanor, so headstrong, sharp-tongued, beautiful in every way, shape, and form. She was a constant presence in his mind as he wandered the vast terrain. The heat and dehydration often played tricks on him—he’d see her in the weeds, in the wind, thought he caught her oaky hair fluttering in the breeze, could hear the lilt of her accent echoing in his ears. He missed her, missed her more than he could comprehend. He swore if he found his way out of this desert, he'd go out and find her, swore to himself he'd take good care of her. Better than any care Jesse could offer.

Billy’s exhaustion finally overtook him, and he collapsed onto the dry, cracked earth. The world blurred around him as his consciousness flickered. He drifted in and out, each time catching glimpses of rough hands lifting him, concerned eyes peering down over bandanas. He felt the cool touch of water on his parched lips, the gentle jostle of being hoisted onto a horse. Between bouts of darkness, he heard snippets of a soothing voice, the soft drawl of reassurance, promising that he was safe. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, Billy clung to the faint hope that rescue had come at last.

He dreamed a lot—or at least he thought so. He couldn't distinguish between dreams and memories: his mother's suffering, Carlos' murder, arrest after arrest, all swirling together. Amidst the chaos, there was a distant voice calling for him, so kind, so familiar, drawing him up under an ocean of limbo.

"Billy? Billy, can you hear me?" he could feel a blanket on him, a pillow under his head, his lungs begging for water.

"What?" and when he cracked his eyes open he was blinded by sunlight, only relieved by Eleanor's concerned face.

He thought he was still dreaming, but as he looked around, his vision hazy and his head pounding, he saw he wasn't in the desert anymore. He was in a bed, a water pitcher on the table next to him, and Eleanor standing over him.

"Oh, thank God," he heard her sigh, "You had me worried something terrible for a spell," her voice was a tone just above a whisper, her choppy bangs hanging over her eyes, Billy could swear one was a darker color than the other. Or maybe his eyes were still just playing tricks on him.

"E-Eleanor," he coughed and sputtered, his chest burning with every jolt. Eleanor moved fast to pour him some water, cradling his head so he could sit up.

"It's alright, drink," he brought the glass to his lips and he drank gratefully. The cool water filled his mouth, overwhelmed his throat, it was a sweet and crisp relief.

He breathed heavily as he settled back in bed, his lips felt dry and crackled, he felt dusty and dirty all over, but he had so many questions.

"Where am I?" he gasped, "How did I get here? Why are you here?"

"You're in New Mexico, the boys found you out in the desert. I'm gonna' get you better, though," she took a cloth and dabbed the sweat from his forehead, hoping her face didn't give way to how scared she was for him. He looked so weak, like he'd blow away in grains of sand at the slightest gust of wind.

Billy had so many questions, but despite them all his eyes felt heavy, his body felt limp. He could barely string out enough words.

"Eleanor... I'm tired," he mumbled.

A small smile graced her lips, "Then sleep," she told him, "Just holler for anything,"

She watched his eyes fall closed, readjusting under the blanket and falling back asleep. Relief flooded over her, there was a period where she feared he was too far gone to be alive. God only knew how long he'd been out in the elements, anything could have happened to him out there.

Billy had slept more in the last two days than he had in months, and when he wasn't sleeping Eleanor took care of him. He was grateful to her, a part of him still thought he might have been dreaming but she was really here, giving him water, making him food, keeping him company when he was conscious enough to make some conversation. He still had so many questions, one in particular was how Eleanor wound up with a black eye.

It was the first day Billy felt strong enough to get out of bed and walk around. He sat on the back porch, a blanket over his shoulders and a warm mug of tea in his hands, looking out to the vast farmland before him. Eleanor came out to join him, her hair pulled up in a ponytail and flour stains on her trousers. Her wound was fading too, but she still didn't feel comfortable enough going out in public like this lest someone ask her questions.

"So, this is Lincoln County," Billy said, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was leaning against the post, arms folded over her chest and looking out.

"Yep, home sweet home," she replied.

"And this is where you've been living outside the hotel?" he asked.

"Pretty much," she turned to face him, "It don't belong to anybody, we just found it abandoned. Figured -- why not?"

"... And 'we' would be... Jesse?" he asked.

"And the Seven Rivers Gang," Eleanor confirmed, throwing her hands to her sides, "Welcome to our secret lair,"

Billy nodded, "Thank you," he simpered, "I don't remember much. The trail, the coyotes, then my horse got stolen,"

Eleanor pulled up a chair beside him, "When the boys found you, you were laid out and left to die. Scavengers would'a been on you by night, prolly'. Jesse brung ya' here, and I swear I thought you were dead for sure," she explained, "You been busy, though,"

"How do you mean?" he asked.

"There are wanted posters for ya all over the state," she replied, "They don't do you justice, in my opinion,"

"Oh, why thank you," he said.

"There's something different about you, though," she noted, cocking her head at him, "You look... stressed. And not just from the sun. Something happened while you were gone, didn't it?"

Billy inhaled deeply, a pit of dismay forming in his gut. He wasn’t sure how Eleanor would react, if she’d ever look at him the same way after he told her about the blacksmith. But she was all he had right now. Surely, if she knew the whole story, she would understand.

"I killed a man, Eleanor," he admitted, taking his gaze away from her, "I didn't mean to, it just kinda... happened,"

Eleanor was waiting for a punch line, thinking that maybe he was just pulling her leg. But no, his worn expression, the lowering pitch in his tone, he had been through a lot in the months he'd been gone. Despite his guilt and sorrow, Eleanor knew Billy. She knew he wasn't a murderer.

"Did he have it coming?" she asked.

Billy shrugged listlessly, "He wouldn't leave me alone. Attacked me in front of everybody. He got my gun, we wrestled for it, but... I didn't want him to die,"

Eleanor nodded slowly. She reached out, gently touching him on his shoulder, "That sounds like self-defence to me. Was it?"

"Of course it was,"

"Then don't beat yourself up over it. Good people do bad things Billy, but that don't mean they're bad," she told him, "We all gotta' do what we gotta' do,"

Billy nodded, and while he was still remorseful, he was grateful that Eleanor didn't judge him. He was grateful for her all around.

"Suppose you're right," he mumbled, he then raised his finger up to his eye, "What happened here?"

She simpered sheepishly, pulling some of her hair over the left side of her face, trying to hide the yellowy-purple bruise, "Oh. Well, long story short is I no longer work for Matthews," she replied.

Billy's concern grew, "Did Jesse do that?" he asked.

"No. Matthews. He found out I was selling out his cattle, aaaaand... he didn't like that. Just to drive the point home, he killed a horse in front of me. A barren mare. I swore for a moment he was gonna' do me in the same," she explained, keeping her eyes averted to the wooden planks beneath them.

"Jesus," Billy sat up in his chair, taking a better look at her face. The bruise was a couple weeks healed up, the indent of Matthews' ring was still present on her cheek bone. He couldn't help but reach over and stroke the bruise, her skin so soft and smooth under his calloused thumb, "How'd Jesse take it?"

"He was angry that Matthews hit me more than anything," she replied, "We agreed I should stay here for a while until we pick up again, better to keep out of town,"

Billy's heart broke for her. Eleanor had always been the fiercest, most resilient person he knew. She worked too damn hard to be thanked with a black eye, to end up in an old, decrepit house in the middle of nowhere. Anger surged through him, mixing with his sadness, as he thought of Billy Matthews laying a hand on her. She deserved so much more—more than this desolate existence, more than the pain and struggle she faced every day.

He shook his head, "Swear to God, if I ever see that man --"

"You're not gonna' do shit," she told him, "Not until you're healed at least," her lips pulled up in a smirk, that same mischievous, sharp smirk Eleanor had that accentuated her personality. It was a small gesture, but it made Billy feel a little better.

Billy too began to smile, "I missed you, ya know?"

Eleanor relaxed in her seat, her smile growing, "I missed you, too. I'm... I'm really glad to see you,"

Billy knew it would be a while before he was back to a hundred percent. His lips were still cracked, and his throat felt raw. He realized he'd be spending quite some time here, recovering. The only question at the forefront of his mind was how long he'd have Eleanor all to himself during this stretch of time.

"How long as the boys gone for?" he asked.

"About a week," she replied, "You're stuck with me until then,"

Eleanor and Billy fell into an easy rhythm over the next few days, their interactions flowing with a natural comfort that belied the short time they'd known each other. Despite Eleanor's insistence that he should take it easy, Billy, still on the mend from his bout of heatstroke, was eager to lend a hand around the farm.

One morning, Eleanor found Billy in the kitchen, fumbling with a frying pan and a carton of eggs. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and she couldn't help but laugh at his earnestness. His limited culinary skills were evident, but there was something undeniably charming about his determination. As they cooked breakfast together, their laughter filled the room, mingling with the aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon.

After breakfast, they wandered through the fields, the farm bathed in the golden light of late spring. Eleanor led Billy to her favorite hidden corners, where wildflowers painted the landscape and the old oak tree offered a sanctuary from the heat. As they walked, their conversation flowed effortlessly, their stories weaving a tapestry of shared experiences. Billy's voice softened as he spoke about less sinister things he'd been up to, exploring towns, the people he'd met along the way. Eleanor listened, captivated not just by his words but by the way his eyes sparkled with passion.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, they sat on a hill overlooking the farm. The air was thick with the scent of earth and blooming flowers. Billy glanced at Eleanor, his eyes lingering a moment longer than usual. She felt a flutter in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as his gaze traveled over her face, settling on her lips for a heartbeat before looking away.

That evening, they found themselves by the fire, the flames casting a soft glow on their faces. Eleanor couldn't shake the feeling that something between them had shifted. The space between them felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words and budding attraction. She was drawn to Billy in a way she hadn't expected, her feelings teetering on the edge of friendship and something undeniably more.

With each passing day, Eleanor and Billy grew closer, their bond deepening in ways that felt both thrilling and terrifying. As they sat under the starlit sky, the world around them fading into the background, Billy couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. Eleanor's hand brushed against him, and the spark that ignited was impossible to ignore. He looked at her, and in that moment, he knew—this was more than friendship. This was the start of something that could change everything for them.

Billy and Eleanor were sitting by the fire as night fell over them. Billy's eyes wandered around the cozy farmhouse, finally landing on an old guitar propped up in the corner of the living room, dusty, worn down, but it still looked to be in good condition.

"Whose guitar is that?" Billy asked, nodding towards it.

Eleanor followed his gaze, a soft smile curling her lips, "It belongs to John, one of Jesse's guys. He plays it sometimes, but mostly it just sits there collecting dust,"

Billy's eyes sparkled with interest, "Do you play?"

"Sometimes," she admitted, a hint of nostalgia in her voice, "I don't know many songs,"

Billy leaned forward, his gaze intense but gentle, "Will you play something for me?"

Eleanor hesitated, her fingers instinctively twitching. She hadn't played for anyone in a long time, but there was something in Billy's eyes that made her want to share that part of herself with him.

"Okay," she said softly, standing up and fetching the guitar. She settled back down next to Billy, her fingers caressed the worn strings, a reverent touch as she tuned it.

"What do you want to hear?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Anything," Billy said, "Anything you feel like,"

Eleanor took a deep breath, the cool evening air filling her lungs. She began to strum, her fingers moving with a familiarity that brought the guitar to life. The melody was simple, an old song her mother used to sing for her about a woman who was wrongly accused of murder. Not the most appropriate song for a child, but it resonated with Eleanor. As she played, she started to sing, her voice soft and haunting in the twilight.

Billy watched her, mesmerized. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the music and the gentle cadence of Eleanor's voice. He couldn't help but feel a deep sense of connection, the story she was telling so beautiful, so tragic.

When the last note faded, Eleanor looked up, her eyes meeting Billy's. There was a silence that spoke volumes, a shared understanding that words could never capture.

"Thank you," Billy said quietly, his voice full of emotion. "That was beautiful,"

Eleanor smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I'm glad you liked it,"

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x female!reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney smut #william h bonney x you #william bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney smut #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #original story #original female character #imagine blog

23 notes · View notes

sciderman · 1 day

Note

im so happy for you that you have a possible reason/cause for your brain itch!!!! i hope the tumor removal goes superduper smoothly. Do they know how long its been present/growing???????? how did you find out??? <- you obviously do not have to answer these personal medical questions lmao im just!!!! so curious and excited for you.

from what i've discussed with the docs it's been there for a LONG time... they say this sort of thing might take up to a decade to develop - it doesn't happen overnight!

i think i started noticing symptoms about maybe... 7 years ago? literally as soon as i started working full-time, maybe. my first job stressed me out so much and i cried underneath the tables at 8pm because i couldn't leave the office, i still had so much to do. i was leading up an entire ass animation department at 20 years old. bad. awful. that's when i started depending on things to get me through the day. my body started feeling awful. i thought it was anxiety, or me just being weak, i guess. i don't know if stress created the tumor, or the tumor created the stress - (well, it's the latter now) i think it's probably both, but all the research i've done and what the doctors have said is that there's just - some people with a genetic predisposition for it.

it's funny - i never miss a deadline, and i'm really really good at my job, always. i never let anyone down, ever, at the cost of my own sanity, and i seem to always, always have it put-together when i'm dealing with people - i have the constant consensus from everybody around me that i'm the most cheerful person to work with on this here planet earth - but apparently, my body was falling apart underneath it all - which i failed to recognise, because outwardly i was holding it together so well, and figured it was just normal to cry all the time when nobody was looking.

i started really noticing it after taking on a lot of freelance work on top of my day job – i was really doing very hot, and did these amazing projects for some really amazing clients who sought me out for being amazing (i am amazing) - but naturally, had consecutive nights of no sleep, and quick deadlines - and INVOICING... screams. and just, realised - after taking those jobs that - my heart did not stop pumping afterwards. my heart was still racing a mile a minute, even after all those jobs were done and dusted and ever-so-loved and appreciated by very happy clients. my heart. wouldn't. stop.

i figured it was MAJOR anxiety, and sought out some counselling sessions, hoping they'd help. i relayed my woes. i said i'm worried i'm not resting enough. i'm not sleeping enough. my heart rate won't go down. they said "oh. not everybody needs 8 hours sleep, don't worry about it. everyone's different." - for some reason that reassured me. i thought it was okay. okay. i don't need rest. maybe my body's just different and doesn't need rest. maybe that's why i wake up at 6am every morning without fail. i just don't need sleep, i guess. (bad advice.)

so – everyone is telling me i'm okay. i should just get on. you're barely sleeping? that's fine, you probably don't need it. your heart is pumping? that's healthy. your heart SHOULD pump, idiot. get back to work.

i felt very unhappy at work - i felt like i was stagnating - so i moved job, last year. i moved job to one that was so, so much more fast-paced. i thought the excitement and change would do me good - but i've been facing maybe - 3 deadlines a day? vs my previous one-deadline-a-month arrangement. and i think it broke me. i needed to depend on so many unhealthy habits to get me through the day. i needed like 6 energy drinks, 3 coffees, i'd have the shakes, i'd have the jitters, i'd feel like i was going to fall apart every single day.

and then, one day, i did.

one week last year i doubled over - my body was in so much pain that i couldn't sleep, i couldn't eat, and worst off - i couldn't work. it was the first time i'd taken sick leave - i couldn't function. after being on antibiotics that didn't work, i eventually went into the emergency room because i just couldn't sleep. i couldn't do anything. i didn't care if they put me down, i wanted the pain to end.

she was a kidney stone. her name was sharon (sharon stone) - i suspect it was all the energy drinks that made her. i've dealt with her now. but during the process, the doc pulled me aside, and he said "dear. do you have any pain in your other kidney?"

i said... no............... why?

doc said "ah. problem for another time."

so, once sharon was dealt with, obviously i had to chase up on that doctor's ominous warning. i said "WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY OTHER KIDNEY!!"

you have a tumor, dear. his name is lamar. he's on your right adrenal gland, and we suspect he's messing up all your hormones.

i did my own research, and turns out all these crazy, mysterious symptoms i've been having all line up - so i chased, and chased, and chased.

the doctors didn't take me seriously at first. because i guess i'm not in pain, and i handle it so well. i'm still so strong. i'm a fighter, i guess. whatever. but, turns out...

it's worth it to chase. your life might depend on it. i'm so glad i did, because there's an end to my suffering (dear god, i hope) - but, guys, if your heart won't slow, and you chronically can't relax, and you feel like there are bees in your brain - that's the time to do some research. it isn't normal, actually. and sure - it might not be a tumor, but - kid, you need some support. you need some help. you need to ask some questions. it's not okay for that to be your baseline. your body needs to rest. it needs to rest. even if i have to force it to. it has to rest.

right now i'm in a major stressed way, and i broke down and cried. i'm in the middle of a freelance job, and in the middle of an interviewing process for a new full-time job, and still working my current full-time job with 3 deadlines a day, and my surgery is next week. and i feel like crying. all the time.

i can't wait for rest. i hate that i literally have to be hospitalised to get it. but, i'll get it. i'm going to rest so fucking hard.

#sci speaks #sighss.... sighshss.#im going to cry some more now i think. it's a stress relief thing.#i say “i don't have anything to stress about” but fact is. i Do actually always have something to stress about. under capitalism.#it's no wonder i have a stress tumor. it's no wonder. in this economy??#and i know i have it so much better than other people do. so how do other people survive???????????????

45 notes · View notes