phantomwritezstuff077 - Tumblr blog

phantomwritezstuff077 · 10 days ago

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I LOVE DAFFODIL

i’ve been thinking about hirl dad billy a lot and i was thinking abt him buying his daughter her first pony, but the pony happens to be a little shit who hates everyone except for his little girl

lmfao he'd just be like "yeah i get it-- 🤷🏻‍♂️"

"ow -- motherfu -- "

billy stops mid-sentence as his eyes falls on a flick of forget-me-not blue -- the same color as the bolt of cloth you bought at the general store last week, from which you made matching dresses for you and your daughter.

" -- fu-fuzzy," he grits out, and he hears a muffled giggle from the other side of the stall wall.

putting his hands on top of the stall, billy levers himself up, leaning over far enough to lay eyes on an unruly mop of curls, framing a cherubic face set with his own blue eyes. "you might as well come over here," he says, and his daughter peeps up at him, still giggling into her cupped hands. "you're the only one who can get close enough to beezlebub to feed him."

his daughter scrambles to her feet and is pushing the stall door open seconds later, taking the carrot out of billy's hand. "his name is daffodil, papa," she says, while the pony chomps contentedly until his velvety lips -- couching the same teeth which drew blood from billy's own palm moments ago -- brush her little fingertips.

"i told you that," she adds, wiping her hand on her skirt. "i named him daffodil cause this mark right here--" she patted daffodil's muzzle gently. "--is shaped just like one." she slides a gaze up to him from the corner of her eye. "right, papa?"

she does that, sometimes -- less now that she's getting a little older, but still -- where she'll peek up at him and ask him questions like that. when she was younger, nearly everything she thought or felt or saw was followed by, "right, papa?"

she would say: "that's a big ladybug! right, papa?"

or: "mr. mcsween is the smartest man ever! right, papa?"

and he would say, as he does now: "that's right, darlin'."

daffodil. truth be told, although the mark really does look like a daffodil, he thinks something like beelzebub would be closer to the mark.

he'd bought this pony as a gift for his daughter, with an idea to teach her to ride. the hostler who sold daffodil to him said that the pony was sturdy, healthy, and good with children -- the latter of which may explain why daffodil seems to hate everyone except billy's little girl.

he's bitten billy, he's bitten you, he's kicked, he's head-butted, and once -- billy knows this sounds crazy, but it's true -- the infernal creature hissed at him.

with your daughter, though, daffodil is as docile as a lamb. he will eat right out of her hand, without so much as a nip. he will amble up to her and gently bump her shoulder with his head, inviting pets and pats. billy has had to instruct her on how to saddle daffodil from a couple of feet away, because she is the only one who can not only get close enough to him, but lay down the blanket and cinch the buckles and get the bit into his mouth for the halter.

frankly, even as he nurses this newest bite, billy can't really blame the pony. in his opinion, there's no one on earth as sweet, as angelic, as precious as his little girl.

if daffodil could speak, he would probably say just about the same thing.

well, after telling billy to go to hell, that is.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 11 days ago

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ME WHEN MILLIE WRITES ANOTHER AMAZING THING

I SAW YOU WERE THINKING ANT CLARK KENT AND I HAD A THOUGHT ABOUT HIM:

him watching his girl fall through thin ice when she walks out onto the frozen lake when she sees that a baby deer is stuck in the middle.

(also sorry if i sent you something like that already I tend to forget)

I've been sitting on this ask for a LONG time I was so excited to write it lovey<3

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou fall through a frozen lake and clark saves you౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x clark kent

The winter was deathly in these parts, but the toasty hand of your boy was enough to keep you warm. Clark was bundled in his coat and gloves and scarf the same as you, and he’d pulled his hat over your head upon noticing you forgot yours. This trip to the cabin practically in the middle of nowhere had been spontaneous, an effort on his part to relieve the stress you’d been facing at work. The deadline for your latest writing had passed recently, your work now in the hands of your superiors, and he’d deemed it worthy of celebration.

Now you were trekking through the knee-high snow hand in hand, smiling when he lifted your mittened fingers for a kiss, breath clouding in the cold. “You okay?” Clark’s need to check in always made you smile, his upbringing making him nothing less than a gentleman. Every door you found opened by him, and the crook of his arm lonely without your hand.

“Mhm,” you hummed delightedly, squinting into the brightness of the snow. Last night there had been a storm, the results of which were flurrying down from trees and being kicked up again by your boots. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is.” The deep timbre of his voice made you shiver in a way unrelated to the cold. His cheeks were pink, his curls dotted with stray snowflakes that had fluttered from bare tree branches. Clark stepped over a fallen log with ease, reaching over to lift you the same way. You giggled, bracing your hands on his shoulders. Even though you could have climbed over yourself, a little part of you liked it when he used his inhuman strength for you. Having any of his awesome powers directed at you was a thrill you were sure you’d never get over.

Clark kissed your nose as he set you back on your feet, his little smile hatching butterflies in your chest. “You’re cold, sweetheart.” He pulled his hat over your ears, cupping your face and rubbing your cheeks with each thumb. “You wanna go back?”

Your bottom lip jutted out a little bit. “We just got out here.”

“We’ve been out here for a few hours, honey,” he gently reminded you, still rubbing your face. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Just a little further,” you pouted, trying your best hand at puppy eyes. Clark breathed out, giving you a fond look.

He adjusted your hat again, letting his hand drop to reach for yours again. “A little And then we’re gonna go warm up.”

“It’s not like you can’t fly us there in seconds, Superman,” you teased, and he chuckled, squeezing your hand. One of many perks of being here in this secluded paradise was the ability to keep his secret safe, to discuss with no fear. He paused to kiss the top of your head before guiding you further down the path. You happily let him lead you along, following in his big footprints.

“Look at that.” Clark ducked under a branch dripping with snow, waiting for you to do the same before he pointed outwards. Your eyes went round as you took in the magnificent expanse of the lake in front of you, smoothed over with ice like a sheet of glass. You slouched into Clark’s warm body and he wound his arm around your shoulders, chin resting on top of your head. “I’m glad we kept going.”

“See?” You kissed his shoulder over his coat. “And besides, the longer we stay out here, the nicer it’ll be to sit by the fire.”

“Mhm.” He was quiet for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “How much of your book do you have left?”

“A few chapters,” you said, rubbing his arm when he looked up, squinting at the lake suddenly. “What is it?”

“Look.” Clark pointed out into the distance, and you gasped. A baby deer with speckled fur, skinny legs bending like willows in the wind as it tried to move across the ice.

“We have to help her,” you said, stepping forward. Clark shoved his arm in front of you before you could set foot on the ice.

“Honey,” he warned, gaze firm on the ice. “It might be too thin. I can-”

You were already moving forward, running as fast as you could and maneuvering your way across the slippery surface. Clark called your name once, but your eyes were straight ahead on the deer, her large eyes pulling at your heart. You slowed down as you came closer, holding out a tentative hand. The fawn’s ears twitched, and your heart melted. Animals had long been your soft spot- you were drawn to them as if you were one of their own. They seemed to know this, granting you a certain reverence and affording you their presence.

“Hi there,” you whispered, smiling when the fawn leaned in. “I’ve got y-” There was a sickeningly sharp sound, and you froze, gaze whipping down to your feet. Beneath your boots were spiderwebs of cracks, and your heart jumped. Clark shouted something and you turned back, eyes round as saucers. Moving to take a step further, your lips parted, forming the beginnings of his name. Then there was a rush under your feet, and you were plunged into icy darkness.

Every one of your senses were dulled. The only thing you could see were memories, drawn as delicately as snowflakes, melting on your tongue. Your body was numb, and you were unsure for a moment whether you were real. Maybe all that was left of you was the love you possessed, your essence drifting through the universe to dwell on all you had absorbed forever.

“Sweetheart?”

The voice was familiar. Now you felt so cozy, snuggled into something soft. Someone was stroking your hair and it felt so nice. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into whatever you were laying on. “Mmm.”

“Shhh, you’re okay.” You began to open your eyes, the world blurry before you. “Sweetheart…I’ve got you.”

“Clark?” A surge of memories came rushing back, different ones than before. Slowly, your vision centered, and you blinked up at the familiar face before you. “W-what?”

“Honey, you fell through the ice.” His warm hand caressed your cheek. “You were shivering so bad…I was so worried.” Now you were being lifted, leaning into his firm chest, fuzzy blanket still over your back. Your hair was wet, clinging to your cheeks, and you shivered involuntarily, teeth chattering lightly. Clark’s arm squeezed you tight, and you sighed, relaxing into him.

“The deer,” you mumbled, and he smoothed your hair comfortingly.

“Safe with her mother,” he assured you. “She’s okay.”

You smiled, then noticed your current state of undress. Pulling the blanket over yourself, you looked to Clark, who flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want to put you in the bath when you were unconscious but I didn’t want you to stay in your wet clothes-”

“It’s okay,” you promised, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Honey, you’ve seen me like this plenty. It’s just fine.”

He smiled a little, breathing in and then pulling you close again. “Please never do anything like that again.” You shut your eyes, nodding as he kissed your hair. “Let me help you next time you want to rescue something.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” you whispered, and he rubbed a warm hand up your back. “I just wanted to help.”

“I know.” Clark thumbed your cheek, bending his head to look into your eyes. “Let’s get you a warm bath, okay? Then I’ve got the fireplace all ready for us, and lots of blankets.”

“Hot chocolate?” you questioned as he wrapped the blanket around your body like you were a taco, lifting you into his arms. He held you closer when you shivered, still not over your dip in the icy waters.

“Of course.” As he carried you to the bathroom, even though your skin must have had frost crackling across the surface, your heart was warm, no part of you fearing what would happen if he was here. Not just Metropolis’ hero, but yours, sometimes yours alone.

In the cocoon of his arms, his love was enough to melt you, and all that was left of your ordeal was a gaping hole in a frozen lake. The oncoming storm would smooth it over soon enough, proving that Clark’s greatest rescues remained between the lines, or in this case, between your hearts.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 20 days ago

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BILLY MY SHAYLA

billy when him and the reader are having a fight abkut something and the reader flinches away from him at some point :(

tw: domestic violence mention

billy freezes, one hand still raised. he looks between his splayed fingers and your wan face as if he can't fathom how they could possibly relate to each other, his arm slowly drifting to rest at his side. he feels, for a moment, divorced from his body, as if the horror dawning on him has taken up too much room and forced the rest of him out.

you're standing there with this expression that's a mixture of remorse and fear, like you're sorry, like you're worried about what he's going to say. what he's going to do. he wants to tell you that you don't have any reason to be sorry, that you didn't do anything wrong, that if anyone is to blame here it's him for making you feel this way.

i am not a weapon, he wants to say. my hands don't hurt anyone, not anymore. and i would gnaw them off with my own teeth rather than use them against you, ever, ever, ever.

you open your mouth and he opens his at the same time, words tangling in the air between you.

billy says, "i would never--"

and you say, "i didn't mean--"

the ground under his feet feels fragile, the air between you fraught with traps held together by hairpin triggers, but he takes a tentative step forward anyway. you stay still until he's close enough to touch, and then, to his relief, you reach for him.

he catches your hands between his. "i am so sorry," he says earnestly, blue eyes gleaming with unshed guilt. "i wasn't thinkin' -- i was upset and just...makin' a gesture to make a point..."

it sounds so feeble -- i was only talking with my hands -- except he hadn't been talking, he'd been yelling. with his voice, with his hands, both of which are so much bigger than yours. he's seen how easy it is for a man, whose hands are stronger, whose voice is louder, whose every action is reinforced by rights both official and unspoken, to overpower a woman. to break her down and hurt her.

but he would never.

"i know," you're saying. "i know, i know. i just -- everything felt like it was crashing down on top of me, and i..."

"i'm sorry," he says again. "nothin' is gonna crash down on top of you, i promise. it's okay. everything is alright."

you fiddle nervously with the buttons of his shirt, focusing on this task rather than his eyes. "we're alright?" you press softly.

he puts his hands on your waist, and when you start to bend like the branches of a willow, he draws you agains this chest. billy wraps his arms around you. "we're alright," he murmurs, leaning his cheek against your hair. "are you?"

you bury your face against his chest, burrowing so deep into him that you must feel his the drumbeat of his heart against your forehead. "i'm alright," you say.

he holds you until you both believe it, until the phantom bruises delivered by hands other than his fade from the air, until he stops blaming himself the fear that had caught so briefly in your eyes like twin candle flames.

after a long while, you look up at him and you smile. he finds a smile for you, and you take one of his hands from your waist. you kiss his knuckles, his fingertips, his palm.

"i know," you say again, "that i am safe with you. i know that, billy. i promise."

it's all he needs to hear.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 28 days ago

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THIS IS SO GOOD *sobs uncontrollably*

GIRL DAD WALKING HIS DAUGHTER DOWN THE ISLE ON HER WEDDING DAY

billy would be a wreck in the best possible way

he would be so, so glad that she'd found someone to make her happy, to take care of her in the way we all need to be taken care of sometimes -- not because she's weak, or fragile, but because every now and then we can't help but bow under pressure of forces greater than us, whether it's a bad day we can't shake off or something bigger than that. he would be so glad that she'd found someone who could make her laugh, someone she could talk to about anything, someone who made her feel safe. he would be so glad that she'd found someone who appreciates her and loves her for exactly who she is.

and he's glad, more than glad, that he's around to witness it. after what he's been through, the fires of hell themselves searing every bullet that came his way, he didn't really think (as maudlin as it sounds) that he would live to see this day. he didn't expect to live so long as to have a little girl at all, to have a life with the woman he loves, a family of his own. now he's walking that little girl down the aisle, except she's all grown up, and she's beautiful, and she's happy. she's happy to have her man, and she's happy to have her father here, his arm looped through hers.

but at the same time, a part of his heart would be breaking, because a little sliver of this hurts. because so many people he loves aren't here to see this day, people who should be here.

his father.

his mother, who would have helped his daughter -- her granddaughter -- do up here hair, who would have been weeping without shame. with joy, in fact.

his brother, who might have had children around the same age, maybe just a little younger.

mr. tunstall, who undoubtedly would have paid (or at least offered) for the ceremony. billy would have talked him out of paying for the whole thing, but he would have caved on something, just to make him happy. to make him feel like part of the family, because he would have been.

more than anything, though, there's joy.

a joy on the surface of him, living in his smile, reflecting hers, bright and dancing like sunshine on the surface of a lake. beautiful and true, without a doubt, but there's something else, too.

a joy that comes from the very depth of him, rooted in memory, in a lifetime of firsts -- her first breath, her first steps, her first word. the first time she ran to him for comfort, because she was so sure he could fix it. the first time she brought a boy home. the first time her heart was broken, and he had to see her cry over something worse than a skinned knee or a bad dream.

and this, of course, this first. the first time he watches her turn a shining face toward her new husband, his kiss landing like a butterfly on her mouth, as the minister pronounces them husband and wife.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 30 days ago

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THIS IS SO YUMMY

billy x reader - finding a stray dog

At first, all Billy can see of the creature curled under the front porch of Murphy’s store is a twitch of fur stretched too tightly over a pile of bones; he thinks the thing might already be dead, stirring only from the breeze slipping between the cracks in the floorboards. Then he spies a slow roll of dark eyes, a gummy dark lip like a licorice whip skimming back over dull white teeth. He suspects the dog — a loose interpretation of the word, if there ever was one — is living on tenacity at this point, if not out of pure spite.

He can understand that, to a certain degree.

Precisely because he relates to having a bellyful of nothing but obduracy, he goes into the hotel up the street, coming back with some stew. He fishes out a chunk of beef with his fingertips and holds it out, watching its nose twitch in recognition before Billy puts the piece of meat on the ground.

“Go on,” he says softly, with the same soothing, gentle tone he uses when trying to calm a skittish horse. “That’s for you.”

He nudges it forward a little more, his head partway under the porch now. The space is just big enough for him to crane his neck and get his face in there — the only way the poor mangy thing fit in this dusty, cobweb-strung crawlspace is because it’s so damn skinny.

“Go on,” he repeats.

The dog regards him for a moment or two before extending its muzzle outward just enough that a dry pink tongue can snatch up the meet. It chews it slowly, laboriously, as if it can barely scrounge up the energy. When Billy offers it another piece, it’s quicker to take it this time, and its teeth work the stringy beef a little easier.

By the time Billy has fed it all the meat, its head is up off its paws, and he thinks he can spot a shadow of a wagging tail. He gives it the carrots and a few of the potatoes, too, and he’s offering the mangy thing his hand so it can lick the gravy off his fingertips when he hears —

“What are you doing down there?”

His head jerks up at the sound of your voice, which is a little bit unfortunate because he’s still partially under the boards of the porch. Billy yelps, and the dog yelps, curling back in on itself and gazing at him with a rather injured look, as if it can’t believe he’s done that.

“There’s a dog under here,” he says, his voice a little strained owing to the throbbing knot at the back of his skull.

He wriggles out in the least awkward way he can, during which he still feels like a fish flopping around on the dock, emerging with dirt and dust all over his front. He hasn’t even fully stood up and you’re dropping to your knees, peering under the porch.

“Oh, look at him,” you breathe.

Billy knows just what that tone means. It’s the same one that presaged the two of you adopting — or “housing”, as you’d put it — a clutch of baby bunnies after their mother had been killed by a fox, the same one that resulted in Billy coming home to find a bedraggled kitten that looked like a water-logged dust bunny curled up on his pillow. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s so hard to say no to you, but…

“Honey,” he says, as you emerge from under the porch. He offers you a hand to help you to your feet, as if that’s going to soften the blow any. “You know how Jesse feels about dogs.”

You push your jaw forward mulishly. “So we’ll hide it,” you say. “If you can train a horse not to be spooked when you’re half out of the saddle and firing a gun, we can train this dog to stay under the bed. Or—” You brighten as another idea occurs to you. “He could just stay with me during the day, and we’ll keep him in our room at night.”

His resistance is already waning at the hopeful look on your face, and then you step closer, grasping at his arms. “We’ll keep him for just a little while,” you say. “Just until he’s better. And then we’ll find someone who can take care of him.”

Billy chews on the inside of his cheek. He knows Jesse better than you do — knows that he’s capable of doing really nasty things, especially to those he thinks are weaker than he is. Most people would say Jesse is a bully, and maybe he is. But Billy can’t shake the memories of a time when Jesse was his best friend, almost a savior, and so he likes to think it’s more than that.

He and Jesse are two sides of the same coin, people who’ve been kicked around by life so often that their bruises never fully heal before they are marked up with new ones. Billy decided a long time ago to take it on the chin, at least when it came to himself. Other people are different. He’s never going to be okay watching injustice hurt other people.

Jesse, though? It’s the other way around. He’s been hurt so often, disappointed so much, that he has to direct it out, turn it away, before it eats him up.

“Please,” you murmur, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I won’t let Jesse do anything to him. It’ll be alright.”

He sighs. “I’m not worried about that,” he says. When you frown, he corrects himself: “I’m not just worried about that. I won’t let him do anything to that dog, either. But I’m worried about what he would do to you if you got in his way.”

Even though he expects you to huff, say something about how you can take care of yourself, instead you’re smiling. “You said you won’t let him to anything to that dog,” you say, still grinning. “You won’t. Which means you’ve already agreed, you just haven’t said so yet.”

Billy closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a soft breath through pursed lips. He isn’t a praying man, but if he was, he’d be praying right now for the strength to everybody through this — you, first and foremost, then dog and himself — and that the two of you will find a home for this dog quickly.

One that isn’t under Jesse’s nose.

“Alright,” he says. “But you’re gonna have to figure out how to get him out from under th—”

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before you’re on your knees again, rubbing your fingers together like you’re playing the world’s smallest violin. “C’mere,” you croon. “C’mere, honey, it’s alright. You’ll be alright, I promise. Just come out. C’mere.”

Billy is about to say he’ll go back for more stew before he hears a shuffling noise, a few small whimpers, and then the dog is shuffle-crawling right into your open arms.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 30 days ago

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billy x reader - finding a stray dog

He can understand that, to a certain degree.

“Go on,” he says softly, with the same soothing, gentle tone he uses when trying to calm a skittish horse. “That’s for you.”

“Go on,” he repeats.

“What are you doing down there?”

“There’s a dog under here,” he says, his voice a little strained owing to the throbbing knot at the back of his skull.

“Oh, look at him,” you breathe.

“Honey,” he says, as you emerge from under the porch. He offers you a hand to help you to your feet, as if that’s going to soften the blow any. “You know how Jesse feels about dogs.”

Jesse, though? It’s the other way around. He’s been hurt so often, disappointed so much, that he has to direct it out, turn it away, before it eats him up.

“Please,” you murmur, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I won’t let Jesse do anything to him. It’ll be alright.”

One that isn’t under Jesse’s nose.

“Alright,” he says. “But you’re gonna have to figure out how to get him out from under th—”

Billy is about to say he’ll go back for more stew before he hears a shuffling noise, a few small whimpers, and then the dog is shuffle-crawling right into your open arms.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 1 month ago

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 1 month ago

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EVITA MENTIONED

POV you’re me singing don’t cry for me Argentina all over my home

#phantom’s ramblings #mollie’s rambles #evita #evita peron

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 1 month ago

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𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍

BILLY THE KID X FEM!HORSE TRAINER READER

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF ANIMAL ABUSE

Billy never thought he’d find himself in this situation, but here was, standing in the middle of a small round pen in Tunstall’s ranch with a terrified mare shying away from him whenever he even dared to take a step forward.

He had come across the mustang when he had gone into town on a supply run. He walked out of the general store with everything the gang needed when he witnessed a man cruelly beating the animal after she had collapsed. Billy’s parents had raised and taught him that animals were not property and that they were to be treated with love and respect, they had just as much of a right to live as man did. And it angered the outlaw to his core when he saw the terrified mare being treated so poorly.

And so, he did the only thing that came to mind. He bought the mare off of the guy, the man didn’t accept much for the mare, in his eyes the beast was far more trouble than she was worth. So he managed to buy her for $20. And after buying her, he learned the old owner hadn’t even bothered to name the animal, so he took it upon himself and named her Lady.

And that’s how he ended up here, a couple of weeks later and still desperately but patiently trying to gain Lady’s trust but it was just no use. Nothing was working.

“Any luck this time?,” Charlie asked, slowly walking over to the fence in hopes not startling the skittish mare. Billy turned around and sighed, shaking his head while he took his hat off and sauntered over to the fence, climbing over the wood before he perched himself on the top railing.

“She still won’t let me get any closer,” the outlaw admitted. “The damn bastard did a number on the old girl, I’m startin’ to believe the damage is too much.” His defeated tone didn’t go unnoticed by Charlie.

“Now hold on,” Charlie cut in, taking a seat next to the cowboy. “There’s a horse trainer in town, Tunstall has had her come in before, she works wonders. Maybe we can get her out here for some help?”

Billy nodded, listening to what Charlie was saying. It hadn’t crossed his mind to try get the help of a trainer, he had always managed to break in and train his horses on his own. But he knew that if he truly wanted to help Lady, he’d need more professional help.

“Where can I find her?,” Billy questioned, slowly slipping down from the fence to tack up his horse.

“She’s usually in her office by the floral store if she’s not workin’,” Charlie told him, watching as Billy trekked off to the barn to tack up his horse.

After a little while of riding, Billy finally managed to make it to the address Charlie had given to him. He dismounted his horse and loosely hitched them to the post before he made his way over to the open door, pausing for a moment before he stepped inside.

He took off his hat as he entered the slightly cooler building and he looked around before his eyes laid on an absolutely stunning woman sitting behind a desk — you. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he had walked in, but he hadn’t expected to see someone to beautiful.

Billy cleared his throat, watching you as you lifted your head and tilted it befote he spoke, “Excuse me, señorita. I hear you’re a horse trainer? Y/N’s Gentle Reins?”

You stared at him for a moment before softly smiling with a nod. You set your quill pen down, deciding that your paperwork could wait. “That’s me, can I help you?”

Billy felt himself sigh in relief, he was grateful he had found the right person and wasn’t disturbing someone in vein. He nodded, still holding his hat in his hands as he spoke, “Yes, ma’am. My name is William Bonney.” He paused. “I have a mare that I recently saved, and I haven’t had much luck gaining her trust or trainin’ her, my friend Charlie said you had helped train some of Tunstall’s horses before, so I thought I’d turn to you.”

You listened to the strange cowboy in front of you, nodding along to the information he had given you. Once the man had finished speaking, you stood up with a smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help you, Mr. Bonney,” you replied with a professional nod, standing up to walk around your desk. “We can start today if you’d like, I don’t have any clients this week.”

Billy felt his face light up, nodding eagerly. He was desperate to get Lady the help she needed. “That works for me. And just call me Billy, you don’t gotta be so formal, ma’am.”

You smiled with a nod, watching him with a tilted head. He was definitely an attractive man, but you could also tell he truly cared about his horse, which unfortunately was rare in a lot of your recent clients.

“Alright then, Billy,” you replied, nodding. “You don’t need to be so formal with me either, please, just call me Y/N.”

It wasn’t long until Billy was standing outside of the roundpen with Y/N, watching Lady nervously walk around the pen with pinned ears, her tail swished in distress as she continued to pace. The scars lining her slim body were nasty, they had healed but they’d never truly fade.

“I haven’t seen a case like this in years,” you admitted, you focused gaze never left the mare while Billy’s kept moving from you and then back to Lady, and then back to you again. You took a deep breath and opened your satchel, taking out a small tin of mints and opened the aged box before pouring the nice smelling candies into your hands.

“Try jumping into the round pen and gently toss one or two of these in her direction, then sit down and wait for her to eat them,” you explained as you gently took his hand and turned it over to put the mints in his palm. Billy felt himself shiver at the touch. “And once she eats them, quietly just give her some praise and toss some more, but slowly have them land closer to you.”

Billy nodded at the instructions, looking down at the small breath mints in his calloused hands. He averted his gaze back at you and then at Lady, who had now seemed to have stopped pacing and was now watching them with pricked ears and a nervous demeanour.

Billy slowly climbed over the wooden fence and did exactly as he was told. He gently tossed one mint towards Lady, and then a second one, making sure it landed a little bit closer to him than the first one before he sat down in the hard sand. He waited patiently, his blue eyes never leaving the timid mare. You also watched, silently hoping that this method would help with gaining trust.

Lady spooked slightly at the mints being tossed but she didn’t bolt, in fact the short lasting fear was replaced with curiosity. The red roan horse nickered as she sniffed the sweet treat on the ground, her nostrils flaring as air gently blew some dust around the treat away in a cloud, stepping forward before she took the candy in her mouth and chewed it. Lady lifted her head while she chewed, her head tilting whilst her jaw moved around, her teeth crushing the mint. It was like she was deciding whether or not she liked this mysterious thing she was eating.

And she did.

Her ears pricked when she swallowed it, whinnying softly and pawing the ground. She seemed to be overjoyed upon seeing another mint on the ground and she trotted over to it and it was gone in a flash. Billy felt himself smile, he hasn’t been able to get this close to Lady ever since he first got her. You also watched the scene with a grin, a sense of pride swelled in your chest once you realized your plan was working.

It didn’t take long until Lady was right by Billy, she had picked up on the fact that this cowboy was the keeper of the mints. Which meant maybe he wasn’t as mean as her old owner. He seemed nice.

Billy’s heart raced as his blue eyes met Lady’s curious brown ones before he looked back at you, who was now sitting on the fence and gave him a thumbs up.

“Keep going, cowboy,” you quietly called to him in order not to break any progress. “She’s expecting more mints.”

Billy smiled, he was absolutely beyond grateful for this. And his heart rate picked up a little bit more at your encouragement, he didn’t know what this feeling was, but that was something for later. He looked back at Lady and offered her a mint in his palm, it was the last one from the tin box.

The mare nickered again, blowing in his face which caused a few of his dark curls to fly upwards for a moment before she lowered her head and took the mint, chewing and swallowing it before she nudged his hand again, wanting more of what Billy no longer hand and it made him chuckle and slowly reach out his hand to stroke Lady’s face.

The old mare snorted and pinned her ears, flinching back a little bit. Billy immediately understood and pulled his hand back, if she wasn’t ready to be touched he wouldn’t push her.

“That’s quite some progress,” you said from behind him, causing him to jump a bit and he turned to see you. He hadn’t even realized you had decided to also jump into the pen and he quickly got to his feet and dusted off his hands and pants with a light chuckle.

“I’ve never been able to get this close until today,” Billy admitted feebly, taking off his hat again and handing you the empty breath mint tin. “Sorry, I used up all your mints.”

You chuckled and gently took the tin back, putting it into the satchel where it belonged before you ran a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry about it, Billy.”

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, both just standing there awkwardly before Lady noticed the two of you and snorted, trotting over and playfully shoving Billy with her nose right towards you. Billy stumbled, almost knocking you over from how close he was now. Both of your faces were a bit too close now and after a long pause, most likely from shock before you smiled a bit and slowly stepped backwards with a small, awkward laugh as did Billy.

You both looked at Lady who seemed all too proud of herself. Even though there was a lot of progress to be done with her, she seemed to know something about the two of you that neither of you knew.

TAGS:

@slutforsnow

@lucygxybaird

@sincere1ystar

#billy the kid #billy the kid gif #billy the kid hc #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #billy mccarty #billy the kid 2022 #horses #equine #horse #cowboy #animal rescue

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

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yk what hell yea

^tagged by @soctherapy but the post was getting too long

this isnt a win for me.......

Tags!: @rae-unbeloved @lil-gae-disaster @fictionalcharactergraveyard @livelaughlovelams @alexanderhamiltonhasafatass

#bucky barnes

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

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i’m feeling angsty today so going off of girl dad billy meeting his daughters boyfriend, and what do we think he’d be like if his daughter and said boyfriend broke up? or if it came to the surface that billy’s daughter’s boyfriend had raised a hand against her 👀

billy's reaction really depends on how his daughter is feeling about it. he'll take her side, no matter what . if she's angry, he'll gladly listen to her vent her spleen for as long as she needs, and encourage her to blow off steam. he'll take her riding or set up tin cans and bottles for her to shoot. if she's sad, he'll hold her while she cries, staying up with her all night if need be. he'll make her cinnamon rolls in the morning, because they always used to make her happy when she was little. if he sees something while he's in town that might make her smile -- a piece of ribbon, a pair of boots with embroidered laces -- he'll pick it up and surprise her with it.

essentially, he'll do everything he can to comfort her, but he'll tell her (after a few days), just to put that boy out of her mind. seeing as how he was dumb enough to let her go, she should feel sorry for him instead of missing him. probably the one coherent thought he's got running around in that empty wicker basket he calls a brain must tire him out as he tries so hard to latch onto it.

now --

if that boy raised a hand to her? if she comes home in tears, a mark on her cheek, her hair mussed and a tear in the hem of her dress? if she admits, in a voice as tiny and rough as the scratching of a mouse, that yes, he hit me?

he hasn't been the kid since before she was born, happy -- more than happy -- to settle down with her mother, to live the sort of life his own ma always wanted for him. peaceful, simple. the life of a rancher. it was what he always wanted, too, despite what the papers might have said about him back then. he'd been ruthless out of necessity, not because he'd wanted to be.

that part of him has never really gone away. like any scar, it might fade, so much so you can hardly see it, but it's still there. for his daughter, billy would gladly rip that old wound wide open again.

still, if that little rat isn't worth her tears or her peace of mind, he's certainly not worth billy's family. he won't throw their future, or his own, away -- but there's nothing illegal about putting the fear of god into the boy.

so billy finds out what watering hole the boy frequents, and he waits across the street, in the shadows between the post office and the boarding house. he watches until his quarry leaves, stumbling drunkenly away from his friends, and he follows him, trailing after him. fortunately, they're both on foot. billy, in his worn old boots, is silent as a cat; the boy is making so much noise, stumbling over his own shoes, singing to himself, that billy could probably set off fireworks and he wouldn't notice.

when they are far enough out of town that there will be no witnesses, billy reaches out and grabs the boy by the shoulder. turning him around in one swift move, he shoves him up against a tree. the boy's eyes widen as he recognizes who is leaning over him.

"s-sir--"

"shut up," billy says, pleasantly enough.

gripping the boy's collar tight enough to cut off his air -- just a little, enough to make him cough and splutter -- billy studies him for a moment. his free hand slips his pistol from his belt, though he doesn't lift it.

"look at me, son," he murmurs. "and i want you to listen really closely, alright?"

the boy stares at him, hardly even blinking. he nods.

"if you ever, and i mean ever, even for a fuckin' second, so much as look in my little girl's direction again, i will gut you like a fish and show you your own innards," billy tells him, his tone still perfectly civil.

the boy gulps.

"and if you try to skin out..." billy pauses, his gaze unwavering.

in the silence, he thumbs at the hammer of his pistol, the sound of it falling audible in the still night air.

the boy gulps again.

"i'll hunt you down like the dog you are," he says. "i'll shoot out your kneecaps. and when you're down on the ground, writhin' like a snake with its head cut off..."

he raises an eyebrow in a silent prompt. after a minute, the boy recognizes his cue and says, "g-gut me like a fish, sir."

"that's right," billy says.

he smiles.

quick as a flash, he brings his pistol up and smashes the barrel across the boy's mouth, splitting his lip. the boy yelps in pain and crumples to the ground, clutching at his jaw.

"you're not gonna come near here again, are ya?" billy asks, looking down at him.

the boy shakes his head frantically, blood leaking between his fingers, tears from his eyes.

"good."

billy smiles thinly, aims a kick at the boy's ribs, and leaves him there.

by the time he gets home, his wife and daughter are asleep. he hangs up his gunbelt and climbs into bed, asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

he sleeps like a baby.

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 2 months ago

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i’m gonna eat this it’s so yummy and well done, millie!

౨ৎKnow That My Love Would Burn With Me/We'll Live Eternally (Breathtaking)౨ৎ

౨ৎ꣑ৎmasterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ [fem reader] contains: angst, death of a parent, mentions of a one night stand pairing: fem reader x billy the kid summary: ~breathtaking~ author’s note: forever thank you to @phantomamour <3 we came up with this idea together, and we've been having so much fun writing for it hehe <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The wind was howling outside, rapping at the windows and trying to slip through the cracks of the walls, but they were sealed shut by Billy's own hands. He slept soundly knowing he'd given you a safe place to rest every night, even if he hadn't entirely built it himself.

It was funny how life on the run made one resourceful. He'd abandoned it all when he'd met you, but still retained his skill set. You always gave him new things to be grateful for. He didn't have to regret such a life because it gave him a way to protect you.

Now the quiet was your comfort, something he'd always dreamt of but never thought he'd have. You brought the unexpected with you, the most surprising of all being the life he wanted. Now, as he folded back the covers of the bed, watching you slip off your dress and trade it for a nightgown, he still couldn't believe his sheer luck.

Climbing in, he slumped against the headboard, unable to tear his eyes away from you for even a second as you floated towards him, draping yourself across his chest and sighing happily. It was a wonder he'd found someone who was this content to even be near him.

His hand found your back, rubbing lightly as you settled. "Sleepy?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, one hand resting over his heart, bunching the fabric of his sleep shirt. On a warmer night he'd sleep bare chested, but winter was just barely bleeding into spring, and it was a trade off of warmer and cooler days. As you nuzzled his chest, body growing heavy with sleep, he recalled a few days earlier, when you'd been sitting outside, sunlight weaving through your hair, eyelashes fluttering. You looked beautiful in any light, but especially with a glow behind you, an ethereal beam to your body.

He let his eyes fall shut, fingers still stroking your back slightly. It was hard to imagine falling asleep without your weight over him, without your legs tangled with his own like tall grass in the wind. This was what he looked forward to every day, when he didn't have to worry about anything anymore.

In these fragile moments between sleep and dreaming, he let himself imagine what if. What if he'd never broken the law and found an honest living elsewhere? What if he'd courted you as an honorable man and done things the right way? In this time he didn't mourn the images he saw, of you with a baby in your arms standing in front of a nice house with white shutters. He merely let himself see.

Holding you a little tighter, he tilted his head to kiss your hair. Maybe in another life.

A sharp knock cut through his last sleepy thoughts, and his eyes flew all the way open, holding you fast to his chest and trying to remember where he'd put his gun. The one piece of his old life he'd retained on purpose.

"Mm?" You shifted, looking up at him. "Billy?"

He was already shifting you off of him, pulling the covers back over your body. Standing up, he snatched his pants off the chair he’d thrown them over and yanked them up each leg. “‘S probably nothing,” he whispered, heart racing. “Let me go check. You stay here.”

You sat up, blinking sleepily. “But-”

“Shh.” Billy’s attention was redirected back to you when he noticed you weren’t staying put. He padded back over, cupping the back of your head with one hand and guiding you to lay back down, grazing the fingers of the other over your collarbone. “It’s okay. I’ll be back in a minute, alright?” Your eyes were growing heavy again, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, watching them shut all the way. “Just rest.”

Billy hid his armed hand behind his back as he crept to the door, wary of it bursting open. The past had a funny way of following a man with luck as rotten as his. With every good thing in his life, he was always on edge about it being taken away. You wouldn’t be complicit to his star crossed story, he would make sure of it. The shadows of the furniture seemed ominous as he made his way to the door, mind still on you all cozy in your bed. Another heavy knock sounded, and he clenched his jaw, keeping footsteps light and slowly reaching for the handle.

Swinging the door open, his eyes widened when they were met with the sight of a tall, gruff looking man standing on the porch, holding the hand of a little girl. He nodded at Billy, shifting on his feet. “Sorry ‘bout the late hour. You Billy? Billy Bonney?”

“Who’s askin’?” Billy’s hand tightened on the gun behind his back.

The man looked tired. He exhaled, looking down at the little girl with heavy eyes. “Maybe we should sit down.”

Somewhere in the distance, thunder sounded, rattling both the sky, and Billy’s bones.

It wasn’t long after the man left that you appeared, shawl over your shoulders, hair a little messy from laying down. Billy was standing in front of the window, holding the little girl on his hip, her head on his shoulder. He was frozen, eyes on the storm, the rain that had just now begun to slide down the glass separating him from the outside.

“Billy?” When he turned around, you were standing there, still looking sleepy, a little confused. “What’s going on/’

Suddenly he felt weak, like he was going to melt into the floor and become one with the earth. Looking down at the little girl in his arms, he managed. ‘She’s…she’s my daughter.”

Had Billy been in a better state of mind, he would have praised your reaction.

You swept the little girl from his arms before he could drop her out of shock, taking her into the other room and returning less than ten minutes later, sitting him down on the bench. Kneeling at his side, you took his hand between both of yours, rubbing over his knuckles. “What happened?”

The story spilled out of him before he could stop to filter it. “Her mother’s a girl I was…with…awhile back. It was just a night. I had no idea…” He felt faint, looking at you desperately.

“Billy,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay. Keep going.” Searching his eyes, you gently asked, “Where is she now?”

“She’s passed,” he said, voice strained. “Th-the man said he was an old friend of hers. Gave me a letter from her…” Billy took in a shaky breath. “There’s one for Annie too, for when she gets older.”

“Annie?”

He nodded. “Annie.”

You were quiet for a moment, and the fear struck him all of the sudden. Was this it? Was this the ‘too much’ that you’d insisted would never come? Just when he’d thought everything was perfect, it all came crumbling around him, with nothing but the dust of his intentions and blood on his hands. The little girl in the other room looked about four years old. Had it really been that long that she’d gone without a father, that her mother had gone without support? He could remember Annie’s mother clear as day now, but the night that had apparently led to their daughter not so much.

A wave of guilt overcame him as he pictured it all, the life Annie had without even knowing him. He’d felt a connection the instant he held her for the first time, and he could only imagine what it would have been like had he met her when she was a baby. He could have been there for her, through the pregnancy, the birth, the trials of having an infant. Her mother had been good from what he could remember, and she must have been so strong to raise their daughter all on her own. Billy’s head was spinning with all these new emotions, and he keeled over, breathing in and trying to steady himself again.

Your hand found his back, rubbing gently as he tried to find his footing again. He held his breath, waiting for an apology about how you couldn’t do this, a rushed explanation as the door shut behind you. But a few minutes passed, and there was none of it.

Billy looked up, seeing your soft eyes. He blinked back tears, and you sighed, pulling him in to lean against you. “It’s okay. I’m here, my love, I’m here.”

Grasping at the front of your nightdress, Billy’s tears finally fell, and he buried his head in your stomach like a little boy. You stroked the top of his head, and his body shook as he cried. “I’m sorry. ’m so sorry.”

“What for?” you asked quietly, smoothing his hair from his face when he looked up, brushing away a tear or two.

“You didn’t ask to get into all this,” he whispered, looking up at you with wet eyes. “It’s too much. You-”

“Hey,” you breathed, shaking your head and holding his face between your soft hands. Billy shut his eyes, not wanting to see what he’d already deemed as disappointment. “Don’t say that, honey, please.”

“If you want to leave-”

“No,” you said, and he opened his eyes. Your expression was gentle, and your thumbs were stroking his stubbly cheeks in a way that made his shoulders slump. He sat up, trying to piece it all together as you squeezed his hand. “Billy, that little girl is a part of you. How could I do anything but love her?”

Now he was quiet, staring at you, body going stiff. Even though it was dark, he was seeing you in a new light, something within you glowing from the inside and shining out, allowing him to bask in it. You were steady in the center of his storm, his gravity when he felt like he’d float into the sky until his body finally gave out. Holding him down for a moment, you took a breath in, then out again. “I’m not going anywhere, Billy. I’m right here.”

“Baby,” he managed, feeling weak again. “I can’t ask you to do this.” Billy removed your hands from his face, clasping them and pressing a kiss to your fingers. “You’re a good girl, but I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you decided to go.” He felt as though he was withering, breaking into pieces from just the mere idea of losing you. Billy’s eyes fell to the sleeve of your nightgown, the wrinkle around your wrist where it had been pushed up.

“Billy,” you said, and his head snapped up again. He took in the details of your face; the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek, where your hairline became feathery at your forehead. Features he had memorized, that he’d draw in his mind every night if you decided to leave, imprinted on the pillow where you used to lay your head.

You brought him back to earth with a squeeze of his hand. “I love you. I wouldn’t dream of ever being anywhere but by your side.” Sitting up so you were kneeling before him, you held his gaze. “I always wanted a family with you.”

An unexpected relief poured over him like a bucket of water, soaking under his skin and washing away the dread he’d felt over navigating this new life all alone. You were his angel, his light, his sunshine. Did you know what you were agreeing to? He sniffled. “Are you sure?”

Lifting yourself, you leaned into him like a willow in the wind, finding your place in his arms, molded against his chest, his other half fitting right where he needed you. “Being with you and loving you is the only thing I’ve ever been sure of.”

His nose tilted forward until it was buried in your hair, his arms folding around you. Maybe deep inside, his body was unsure if he was dreaming, and so it felt the need to hold on tight. You nuzzled your head into his chest, hand rubbing up and down.

“I put her to sleep on our bed,” you muttered, drawing a heart with the line of your finger.

“You sleep with her, I’ll take the floor,” Billy offered, running his hand down your back.

Shaking your head, you looked up, and he couldn’t resist laying his hand on your cheek. With a sweet smile, you leaned into his touch. “I told you I’m staying with you. In every way.”

Billy breathed a laugh, the exhaustion that had previously been in the background of his mind stepping forward, spreading into his chest like a plague. He rubbed your back again, kissing your hair. “Alright.”

When you laid next to him a few minutes later on the floor in the bedroom, spreading a blanket over the two of you, Billy’s arms were ready for you, nearly aching with how much they needed you between them. He laid awake long after you had drifted into dreaming, listening to yours and Annie’s breathing. Upon entering the room, he’d been stunned looking at her, this little person he’d never met before, but felt such a pull toward. You’d said she looked like him, and he could see it now, in her hair, her eyes. But he could see her mother in her too, hiding beneath the surface.

You shifted in your sleep, and he looked down, mouth relaxing. Here was the unexpected you always seemed to bring again: the fact that you had stayed.

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