#like they wear all these supportive shirts and what not

[merakiui]

Rollo's trying his hardest to not jump his darling due to it being ungodly and he mustn't ruin her naive and virgin body, but the horny grip is strong and his darling just came downstairs in only HIS shirt. Her legs.... her shoulders... and the top of her breast is showing. She asks if he wants breakfast and he says yes... then proceeds to fuck her on the kitchen table.

👁 👁 omg…

He thinks it will be fine if he just,,, rubs against you because that’s safe and won’t deflower you in any way, but when he lifts the shirt only slightly and sees you’re not wearing any panties……. how can you expect him to be content with just dry humping when you’re in his shirt with your bare pussy out and asking him if he wants breakfast in such a sweet, sleepy voice!!!!! It’s over for him. >_<

Breakfast is the last thing on either of your minds as you waste the morning away with each other. You’ll have to open a window to air out the kitchen, but even after that you’re still pressed against the table or the counter—wherever’s sturdy enough to support you—panting into each other’s mouth. He was going to fuss over using protection, but all of those protests died on his tongue the minute he sunk in raw to your soft, warm, virgin pussy.

You’re such a terrible temptation. A naughty girl. Do you realize that? Did you come down in his shirt and nothing else on purpose? Did you want him to take you for breakfast when you asked? It’s not Rollo’s lust that’s to fault. You’re just too irresistible. >:( and when you’re clinging to him or scrabbling for a handhold on the counter while he pounds into you from behind, he can’t imagine being able to keep himself in check now. How is he going to keep his hands to himself when he knows how soft and warm you are, when he’s slowly figuring out where you’re most sensitive and what places on your body get you unraveling the fastest!!!! OTL

Some of his shirts end up in your closet after this. You don’t need to ask to decipher the meaning. He likes seeing you in his clothes. And who are you to disappoint your dear Rollo? <3 next time you’ll wear pretty lingerie beneath one of his shirts.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Spellbook Swap

I've always wondered how couples stay together so long. My husband, Derek, and I had been married for 3 years now and while we get along great and support each other through everything, the sex had been pretty stale for awhile. Half the time he's not really in the mood and when he is, we usually just jerk off next to each other. I was getting tired of it and craved something more. But Derek was still so cute, him being a socially awkward nerd, and I was scared to tell him how I feel because he might cry.

That afternoon, I was on my way to pick him up from work. We only had one car, but since both our jobs typically had the same shift, I always headed over to pick him up at his job at the library. I didn't actually have work today so I went a little earlier to look at some books. When I arrived, Derek noticed me and smiled real big.

“Hey! You're early!”

“Yeah, thought I'd browse a bit.”

“Ah ok. I just organized it all so you get to see my work!” He smiled again and continued helping customers in line.

I browsed through my favorite genre - fantasy. I always loved ones that involved magic, spells, and amazing worlds. I noticed one book that kinda stuck out a bit amongst the shelf. It was some kind of spellbook with a brown leather cover, and had a bit of dust on it, which seemed strange because the rest of the shelf was perfectly clean. I opened it up and found that it was indeed a spellbook. I wasn't the most superstitious person ever, but I did believe there was some kind of magical force out there that could do incredible things.

I flipped through the table of contents and noticed there was a category called “relationships”. I turned the pages to the section and saw a bunch of spells - ones to make someone fall in love with you, ones to get promoted at work, ones to impress your family, things like that. I was about to close the book when I found one page - how to spice up your sex life. That was just what I needed! Even if it didn't work, it couldn't hurt to try.

I walked over to the counter right as another guy started talking to Derek. He was a real muscular guy wearing a white shirt and tan hat. His pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination with the way they were tight fitting around his ass. A mustache covered his thick face, which complemented his bright green eyes. He was carrying a tote bag.

“Hey can I help you?” He greeted the man with an eager attitude. “Need a book recommendation or anything?”

“Oh no I don't read.” The man spoke with a deep manly voice. “I mean, who has time to when you could be working out?” I could see the rare irritated look on Derek's face.

“Then…what do you need from the library?” He replied, much less eager than before.

“Just dropping off some books for the wife. We're going on vacation and they’re due tomorrow.” He took a couple books out of the tote bag.

“Allright. I can take them.” The man handed him the books and immediately turned around and left. Derek's smile returned when he saw me with a book in my hand.

“Hey! What'd you get?”

“It's a book of spells.”

“Of spells? Like real ones?”

“No way,” I laughed. “Just some dumb thing. Looks fun to read though.”

“Allright. Gotcha.” He checked me out and I sat down, waiting for him to finish the rest of the closing.

That evening after dinner I tried to seduce him but he wasn't having it once again.

“Sorry, work has me so exhausted you know?” I wish that I wanted to, but…well I just don't want to. Sorry.” I stood there defeated.

“Ok.” I let out an emotionless reply. As Derek brushed his teeth and got ready to head into bed, I flipped through the pages of the spellbook. I found the “spice up your sex life” spell and read the instructions. I needed to recite the incantation while looking at a picture of the two of us. I took out my phone, and scrolled through my gallery until I found the perfect picture. Then I started to recite the spell. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. At that point I was mad at him and now mad at the spellbook for wasting my time, so I headed into the bedroom. There I found Derek waiting for me.

“Hey…look I'm sorry. How about tomorrow morning we have some fun? I promise I'll go through with it!” Maybe the spell did work afterall! We both had a day off tomorrow so that was perfect. I was so excited that I could barely sleep.

The next morning I woke up to Derek nudging me awake. Excitedly, I turned over. But to my surprise, it wasn't him smiling at me, but a hairy guy with a mustache. He was giving me a sexy smile.

“Hey…you ready?” He gave me a look of uncertainty and cleared his throat. I didn't even know what to say but I was so confused that there was total stranger in my bed, so I had to say something.

“Who are…you?” He frowned beneath his mustache.

“What do you mean? Oh no, am I having an allergic reaction somehow? That would explain my voice and why my eyesight is blurry even with my glasses on. It's me though! My face must be so puffy…oh god."

”Holy fuck. It's Derek! But this was far beyond an allergic reaction. He's an entirely different person! He pushed the covers off and was about to get out of bed, probably to take a look at himself in the mirror, when he glanced down at his body. This was definitely not normal. He was muscular, tan, and hairy - a stark contrast to what he normally looked like. He made a terrified face, which was a strange sight on such a macho guy.

“What? What's happening? I-I…” He looked at me with worry in his eyes, and it was then that I realized WHY this was happening. It must've been the spell. I guess turning your boyfriend into a muscle hunk would definitely spice up our sex lives. But I couldn't leave him in the dark.

“I-I,” I started. “It was my fault. That spellbook I got, I used it on you. I didn't expect this though!”

It was then that I realized WHO he was. That guy we saw at the library yesterday. He somehow swapped bodies with him!

“What? What spell was it?”

“Spice up your sex life. I just…was getting bored. And you were never in the mood.”

“Oh…but it turned me into this?” He then rushed to the bathroom. I followed. He immediately recognized himself as soon as he looked into the mirror.

“Hey! I'm that guy from yesterday!? Why did it turn me into him?”

“I-I don't know! Maybe it picked someone from a recent memory?”

He gazed at himself in the mirror with an open mouth, and touched all around his face, pinching and feeling his mustache.He gazed down and admired his new muscles, feeling all around his pecs and the chest hair growing from them. He then turned around and stared at the mirror again, this time making a variety of expressions.

“What am I supposed to do? I can't stay like this!”

“I don't know! There must be something about a reverse spell in the book.” Flipping through the book, I once again found the page I needed. I read every word but didn't find anything about a reverse spell. Could he be stuck like this?

“Maybe if we see like a professional?”

“What, like a fortune teller witch lady or whatever?”

“Exactly.”

“Well. I do remember seeing something like that close to town. A psychic. Maybe they can help?”

“We could try.” I looked up fortune tellers and found Madam Cleo - Psychic. It was a short drive away. I was hoping we would find our answers there.

“I got it.”

“One problem,” Derek said doubtfully.

“What?” He stared down at himself and then answered.

“I don't think anything will fit me now…” I couldn't help but laugh out loud.“I think we can find something at least.”

We dug through the closet and eventually found the Lakers jersey that my uncle gifted me a few years back. I wasn't even into basketball and it was a few sizes too big, but at least it helped us in the end! Derek slipped it on and gazed at himself in the mirror. It fit pretty nicely.

“Not really my style…but it'll do for now.” He put his finger on his chin and then rubbed his head. He froze when he grazed the back of it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I'm…balding.” He turned around and tilted his head up to show me. He definitely had a bad case of male pattern baldness. I thought it was pretty hot, but he looked terrified.

“Hmm…well. That's something we can just fix with a hat. I walked into the bedroom, grabbed one of my hats, and put it on his head. It completed the look well.

“I guess this'll work. Maybe.” I laughed again.

“You'll be fine.”

We got to the car, Derek struggling a bit to fit in the passenger seat with his new frame, and headed over to the fortune teller. It was a warehouse-like building, although much smaller. As we were about to walk in, someone else walked out. He was a young looking guy around my age, but at least 200 lbs heavier. He looked like he made absolutely no effort to control his weight.

“Hey! That lady is awesome!” He said excitedly. “She told my fortune and said that I would lose weight very soon! I can't wait!” He then ran off, his gross looking belly jiggling up and down, and drove away.

I kinda felt bad for people like that, that actually believe that sort of thing…what am I saying? We're the ones going to a fortune teller for help. I just really hoped she was legit then.

We walked in and found that the interior was nicely decorated, completely different from the outside. Shiny wooden floors, a chandelier, and LED lights hanging from the walls. All of that surrounded a crystal ball in the center. Within a few seconds a woman dressed in a typical fortune teller outfit appeared from a curtain in the back.

“What does the future hold for you two today? Let's find out,” she said with an ominous tone to her voice.

“Actually we're not here to get our fortunes told. We need your help.”

“What do you mean? She asked, dropping the ominous tone.

“Well my husband here is a victim to a body swapping spell gone wrong.” I showed her the book, flipping to the page.

“Oh my,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “This is very powerful magic indeed.”

“But how do we reverse it?”

“I don't know for sure. But the victim should try to recite it instead.

“Victim? You mean Derek? How would that work?”

“Do not question why things are the way they are. Now go!” She said suddenly. With that, we hurried back home to recite the spell.

“Ok how do I do this now?” Derek asked.

“Just recite the spell, and focus on a picture of us.” He recited the incantation.

“Nothing happened…how was it last time?”

“Same as this time. I guess it took awhile to take effect. What should we do in the meantime?” He didn't reply, but instead stared at himself in the mirror.

“You know, now that this face actually has a brain behind it, it's actually kinda hot.” He then walked over to me and got real close. I'd never been intimidated by Derek before for obvious reasons, but this time I couldn't help but feel dominated by his brawny self.

“The spell picked this guy because you thought he was so hot didn't it? That's gotta be it.” He said with a low voice.

“Y-yeah. I admit it. He seemed dumb at the library but hey, he was a hunk.”

“And now I'm that hunk.” He started feeling all around his body again. He then glanced at his dick and began to stroke it. I knew exactly where this was going and I was all for it.

“Well then Mr. Muscle Hunk, why don't you show off that body a bit more?”

“I'd like nothing more…but I'm gonna go shower first. Who knows where this guy's been?”

“Yeah good idea. I'll be in the room.”

I was so excited! This was gonna be the hottest thing ever! I headed toward the closet to find something sexy to put on. Suddenly I felt a bit dizzy. I noticed my skin seemed to be glowing somehow. Within seconds it turned ghostly white, and then became so bright, it hurt to look at. Why was I glowing? It seemed to be just my body though, nothing was happening to my clothes. As quickly as it came, the glowing stopped and the dizziness returned. I didn't have time to see what happened, because as soon as the glow stopped I lost my balance and fell onto the nearby chair.

My clothes felt incredibly tight, but it wasn't long before I realized why. I was fat! My shirt didn't even fit over my large belly. My pants must've popped a button as my gut hung over them. I tried to get up but the weight of my gut kept pushing me backwards. How do fat guys even do this?

When I finally got up and onto my feet, I rushed to the mirror, my hanging belly flopping up and down. My face looked familiar…oh shit. I was that guy we saw at the fortune teller's! Did the spell do this? How did this happen?!

I heard the shower stop, meaning Derek was going to meet me here any minute now. I couldn't believe the hottest night of my life was about to be ruined! Why did this have to happen?

The door opened and there he was, standing there in a pair of briefs. They were always a little big on him, but with his new body, they were pretty tight. It looked like he shaved his head too. He stared at me, at first he looked shocked but then his expression changed. Was that a look of lust?

“So the spell did something to you too?”

“Yeah…look at me! I'm a mess!” I jiggled my flabby moobs to prove my point.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“It's not so bad.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean…well you know how you said I look hot like this? And that the spell probably made me like this for that reason?”

“Yeah. What are you getting at…wait.”

“Mhm.” He mumbled with a sexy smirk.

“Y-you think I'm hot like this?!" He got real close and started making out with me. It was the most intense make out session I'd ever had. The feeling of his thick mustache rubbing against my face was a sensation I would've never expected could feel so good.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Yep,” I said with a smirk.

[greg-gold01]

Signed in Gold

It took some courage and working up to it, but you finally decided to try your best and join a gym to get into shape. You looked online and found a listing for a new gym near you called 'Gold and Gainz Gym'.

"Join us in Gold and be the best you you can be!"

You read their motto aloud and sighed. You'd always wanted to try and better yourself, you could just never stick to it; always doubting, always worrying about other people or failing, never making any progress. Maybe this time will be different? You decided to check them out tomorrow, couldn't hurt to just see the place right?

Walking in the next day, you instinctively squint your eyes. There's gold everywhere, so much that it hurts your eyes. You walk up to the front desk and wait for a receptionist, looking around at all the guys here. They're all dressed in the exact same gold kit, all handsome, all muscular, all laughing and enjoying each other's company. You get so lost in watching them you don't notice one walking up to you.

"How can I help ya bruh?"

You jump back a bit startled, looking up at the gold adonis in front of you. Mouth going a bit dry you finally tell him

"I uh, was wondering if I could maybe, join the gym?"

You meekly ask, eyes a bit downcast. In contrast, the man's eyes lit up.

"Hell yeah bro! We're always lookin for new members. Take an application and follow to the office, we'll get ya sorted."

Taking a seat across from him in the office, he hands you an application and a golden pen.

"Gotta sign everything in gold bro, only way for it to work"

Puzzled as to why the pen would matter that much, you start reading through the application. Some basic info about yourself, couple of checkboxes, nothing crazy, until you get to the questions at the end.

Do you swear to be the best you you can be?

Do you swear to always support your Golden Bros?

Do you swear to always wear the Gold Kit with pride?

Do you swear to be a Golden Bro in mind, body, and soul?

You stare at the questions a bit incredulous before figuring it's probably just some kind of motivational thing, writing 'Yes' in response to the first question. As you finished, you feel a sudden jolt of pleasure shoot through your body. Shaking it off, you go back to the paper, not noticing that your hands seem a bit bigger and tanner now, the bro across from you watching with a knowing smile.

'Yes' to the second question. Another jolt of pleasure strong enough to almost make you drop the pen, traveling to your head and making it feel a bit fuzzy. You never really had friends, but you keep seeing images of you supporting, working out and hanging with other guys all wearing gold jerseys. As you struggle to reconcile the conflicting memories, your body begins to shift. You gain a few inches of height, a golden tan seeps across your skin, hair styling itself into an immaculate shape while stubble begins poking through your once bare skin. Blinking a few times, you still don't notice as your thoughts finally settle. Of course you've got memories of supporting your bros, why wouldn't you? Any good bro would support them, and you're a good bro aren't you?

'Yes' to the third question, and yet another jolt of pleasure. You lean back in your chair, eyes closed and mouth open as the pleasure keeps you oblivious to your changing clothes. An ill fitting t-shirt becomes a perfectly fit golden jersey, made of the most unbelievably perfect material you've ever felt. Jeans become a pair of golden workout shorts, showing off your growing bulge to go alongside them. And what workout kit is complete without some gold Nikes to go with it? Not yours for sure, as your sneakers change into a pair that wraps around your feet so nice it's like they were made just for you.

"Feels good doesn't it bro?"

The bro across from you asked still smiling. You couldn't help but agree, the kit felt so good on you you couldn't imagine taking it off, of a time when you weren't wearing it. You've always worn it right? Course you have, what golden bro wouldn't always wear their kit?

You make it to the fourth and final question, pausing for a moment. Some part of you is still fighting, still questioning what's going on. What will happen if I say yes to this? Almost sensing your hesitation, your bro gets up and moves behind you. He starts rubbing your shoulders, whispering in your ear

"Just let go bro. It feels so good to let go. To let Cap think for you. To let Gold take you over. All you need is Gold and Bros, Gold and Bros, Gold and Bros..."

As he keeps repeating it in your ear, you start to smile and say it along with him, closing your eyes in bliss as your hand automatically moves to write 'Yes' for the last time. A pleasure shoots through you so strong you almost fall out of your chair. Your body goes into overdrive, biceps inflating, ass growing, thighs thickening as every rational thought is blasted from your mind. Every thought, every memory, everything before you walked in the gym is wiped out by the Gold wave overcoming you. Your mind a flurry of the same few words over and over:

GoldCapGymBrosTeamUnityBuffDumbGoldWorkoutBrosCapGoldUnityBuffGoldTeamGoldGoldGoldGoldGoldGoldGoldGold....

Your mind, body and soul succumb completely to the Gold, becoming the perfect new bro for the Gold Team as you finally open your eyes again

"How ya feelin bro?" your new bro asks you

"Bro, feels like I just made the best choice of mah life! I feel like...like Gold!"

He laughs in response as he throws his arm around you, leading you back to the gym.

"I knew you'd love it brah. They always do after they sign in gold. Let's get ya hooked up with Cap and the rest of the bros before you start your workout eh? They're gonna love ya, trust!"

You walk arm in arm with your new bro into your new life as a Gold Team bro. Ready to be the best you you could ever be, ready to give everything for your cap and your bros. Ready to be Golden, and happy, forever.

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎ𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮)⋆౨ৎ

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ [fem reader] contains: kidnapping, blood, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: troubles throw a wrench in yours and billy's plans author’s note: tagging @phantomamor because <3 babes you really helped me with this last part and with this entire au <3 thank you all for being so lovely and supportive of this series! my apologies for the wait on this last part <3 enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The fascination anybody felt with you was everlasting, bound to stretch the eternities just like you.

Billy could feel it now as you spoke to the vendor before you, the diamond he'd so dangerously retrieved in your hands. The man had given him a decent price, but you'd stepped in, starting to speak to him in a language Billy only knew bits and pieces of. Your tone was firm, but still with a tint of sweetness to it. You were still you after all.

The second you'd begun to speak, he'd stepped aside, unsure exactly what you were doing but trusting you anyways. The vendor looked a little taken aback, but he finally nodded, saying something begrudgingly. You smiled and turned to Billy. "He's gonna give you eighty instead."

His eyebrows shot up, lips parting. "Eighty?" That was twice the original price, three times what he'd expected to get.

You stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You worked so hard to get the diamond, you risked your life. The least you could get is more money for it."

Billy laughed a little in disbelief, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're a wonder darlin', honest."

While waiting for Billy's reward to be counted out, you leaned back into his chest, his arms around your collarbone. He'd been hesitant about taking you outside the ship given the status of you with his gang, but figured this was an early enough time of day that it wouldn't do any harm.

You were no longer wearing one of his shirts- the first thing he'd done upon landing was go find a kiosk selling dresses and fetch one for you. He had to admit that he missed seeing you in one of his button downs, but you were ethereal in the blue, flowy thing he'd picked out, as radiant here as you would have been wearing a ball gown. Just peeking out the slit of the dress when he looked down, there was pretty garter hugging your thigh, the point of a glass dagger restrained by it.

Billy had presented it to you just before leaving today, and the excitement in your eyes was a lovely thing to behold. He'd smiled as you tucked it under your dress, telling you it was "Just a precaution, angel." He wasn't going to have his girl walking the streets unarmed, even though he wouldn't be letting you out of his sight for a second.

He was glad he'd brought you out- the way you were looking around so excitedly was worth it alone. The way you bounced excitedly on your heels and squeezed his wrist whenever you saw something you liked was ecstasy. There weren't enough words in any language to emphasize how much he loved you.

Indeed it had been a time for firsts.

Before last week you had never kissed before, had someone to lie down with. These were beautiful things he got to teach you about.

He didn't consider having to teach you about bad things too.

One night you'd sprung upright in bed, clutching your chest and gasping, eyes blown wide for someone who'd been asleep a few seconds ago. Always a light sleeper, Billy had woken with you, seen your distress and pulled you into him. He wrapped his arms around you like wings and held you tight into him. "Shh. Baby, you're okay. You're safe, you're okay."

"I was having...a...dream," you hiccupped, fisting his shirt. "And then...it...turned...bad."

"Slow down, sweetheart. Deep breaths." Billy rubbed your back, breathing deep in and out so you would do it too. "You're gonna work yourself up." He kissed your hair, scratching your side gently.

You slowly but surely began to calm down, holding his wrist in your hand. Billy rocked you back and forth, watching the storm within you quell. "Shhh, sweet girl. It's okay."

When your breathing was steady again, you looked up at him with wide eyes, and he knew what you were asking. "'S a nightmare," he whispered, barely disturbing the quiet of the ship. "Like a dream, but scary."

Brow knitting, you cuddled back into his chest. "I've never had one before. It felt real."

"'F course it did, sweetheart," he murmured, carefully lying back down with you. Billy lifted the hem of his shirt, maneuvering it around you until it was off, tossing it away. You pressed your cheek to his chest, the sensation of his skin on yours untensing your muscles. He slid his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing, settling a warm palm on your lower back. "D'you wanna tell me what it was about?"

You were quiet for a moment. "You. You were gone." The confession shredded his heart in two, and he buried his nose in your gold-streaked hair.

His stomach dropped. Truthfully, when he'd imagined what scenarios would play out in your subconscious, he'd imagined something like your kidnapping, what the Seven Rivers had done to you. He didn't even stop to think you might be worried for him.

"'M right here, baby." Billy reached down to your waist, pulling you to rest between his legs with your head on his chest. You let out a little sigh, shifting to get comfortable. He was content that he had been able to calm down. But it terrified him that he couldn't protect you from everything.

Reaching up now, you touched his arms, thumbs rubbing him there. He kissed your temple. Ever since the day he'd been injured, you'd been clinging to him like he was the last thing in the world, trying out what he'd taught you. Your lips had touched every bit of his face and then some, every kiss setting his heart blazing. He loved that you wanted to have him near like this.

As he looked at you now, light as the air and happy as always, just watching the surrounding crowd, there was such an air of innocence about you.

You were glowing in the light of day, a goddess in your own right. Billy couldn't help staring- it didn't matter how many times he woke up next to you or even looked at you. He would always be enchanted by every little detail you exuded. The best of the universe gathered together in your shape.

Turning in his arms, you kissed him lightly, smiling adorably afterward. Billy's own smile was sparked by yours, and he lifted you up by the waist, letting you stand on his boots so you could reach. "Hi angel," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. In the sunlight you shimmered like glitter, and he swore whenever you walked a trail of magic followed like fairy dust.

When the vendor passed him his money, Billy shoved it in his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You clung to his arm, squeezing him there and smiling adoringly up at him. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect." He took your hand, unable to stop touching you for more than a few minutes. "C'mon sweetheart. I owe you some cuddles."

You bounced on your heels, a spark lighting in your eyes. Billy was about to lead you away, wishing the walk was faster. He could practically feel the mattress under his back already, his hand maybe sliding up your skirt-

There was a shout from nearby, and he froze mid-step, startled by it. You squeezed his hand, and he pushed you a little behind him, protective instincts flaring like a fire.

A crowd was forming a little bit away, and you stood on tiptoes, trying to see what was going on. He smiled. His curious girl.

"Let's see what all the fuss is about," he said, rubbing your fingers and letting you lead him over to the crowd. When you were still craning your neck, he slid his arms around you, lifting you up to his eye level. A smile bloomed over your face at the motion, and he pecked your cheek, turning to the scene finally.

What he saw made his veins freeze like ice.

A woman restrained, her hair golden and loose, struggling against the surely rough hands of an officer wearing the official patch of the IJF. He was shouting, but the brazen remarks fell blurry on Billy's ears.

There was a man standing a few feet away, his yelling adding to the chaotic swirl. He was holding his arm, a gash dripping crimson onto the cobblestone. "She stabbed me. Did you see? She stabbed me-"

"My blood isn't yours to take," she snarled, shiny freckles catching the light as she whipped her head to look at him.

"Both of you shut it," the officer barked, restraining the woman in handcuffs. Now her chest was heaving, and he could see the fear in her eyes. It reminded him of-

Turning to you, he saw your round eyes and stiff limbs. You slowly lifted your gaze to his, a wild desperation in it. That was a woman just like you, another person of the stars, the same blood running through her veins. She was practically a sister. He could knew what you wanted to do before you moved.

Billy's arms tightened around you, and he swung one down to lift your knees, anticipating your next actions. "Let's go."

You struggled, looking over his shoulder as he began to walk away, boots clunking rudely. Tugging on his shirt, body twisting in his arms, your breathing sped up, voice nearly tearful. "We have to go...we have to help her-" Billy shook his head once, and your fist pounded his chest. "Billy. Billy put me down-" your voice was as serious as death, and you sounded mad.

"You can't do anything for her now...honey..." He patiently held firm to you, sucking in a breath when you tried to undo his hand from your waist, nearly making him drop you. "Don't do that, sweetie."

There was a tear on each of your cheeks like sunspots, and his heart broke. Your breath hitched and you began to cry, taking his face in your hands and trying to turn it back toward the scene. "Take me back...please..." Every syllable was broken, like a crumbling bridge.

Painstakingly, he ignored your words, not pausing once in the journey back to the ship. Having been involved in a crowd often targeted by the law, he knew if not anything that in the heat of the moment, two people in the same group would be seen as one. He wouldn't risk the officer seeing you and finding some reason to take you away too, especially if you tried to help the other star-woman he was detaining.

No matter how right you were to try.

Billy only put you down when he was in the ship, shutting the door quickly. But at that point, the fight had been taken out of you, and you stood in front of him, eyes trained on the ground ashamedly.

He moved cautiously to you, reaching out to grasp your hands. You still wouldn't look at him. Taking in a breath, Billy was about to say something comforting maybe, when you rushed forward, burying your face in his chest.

Warm tears bled into his shirt, and he secured an arm around you, pressing the other to your head. There was no need to say anything.

In all his years collecting bounties, he'd never held anything near as precious. For all the places he'd travelled, his eyes had never taken in anything as beautiful. You were the reason the word treasure was invented.

And he was no fool. He knew what he had and he knew to keep you safe.

You made his lap look like a throne.

Sitting with your legs on either side of his on the mattress, skirt pulled up your thighs, kissing him slowly, he could have mistaken you for a deity. Your hips were rocking slightly back and forth into his, as if you weren't aware of it. One of his hands was tangled in your soft hair, the other on your thigh, rubbing up and down. You liked those little comforts during kisses, he'd learned, and it only made him love you more.

He kissed your nose, pulling back for a moment. Wrapping his arms fully around your waist, Billy rolled you over, making you laugh as he held himself up above you, dipping his neck to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your nose again, just because you were so cute.

Neither of you had spoken about the day in the market since, although it had shaken you, he could see. Knowing you didn't want to bring it up, he showed you he cared instead, giving you extra loving day and night.

Both of your arms was flung above your head atop your hair, which was spread out like a halo. Billy gave you a fond look, kissing your collarbone and letting his chin nestle between your breasts. The dress you were wearing was cut deep in the neck, and so he had plenty of access to your skin.

You hummed, your chest vibrating under his chin. "Billy?"

He kissed your tummy. "Yes, angel?"

That got a little smile out of you, and you slid a hand into his hair, scratching his scalp gently. "Don't you have to be to the other ship in twenty minutes?"

"Ah-" Billy kissed your tummy again with a smack, sliding his arms under your waist and rolling you over, making you dissolve into giggles. "But that's in twenty minutes." Your hair fell on either side of his face like a curtain, and he stroked your cheek, nudging your face closer to his. "So gimme some more kisses, darlin'." He knew how much you loved them.

You giggled again and pressed your lips to his, eliciting a satisfied hum from him. He blinked lazily at you, gathering some of your hair and pressing it behind your ear just so he could touch it. Where you had been hovering over him a bit before, now you let your body nestle in, chest pressed to his as you rested your chin on folded arms. "I don't want them to suspect anything."

"They won't suspect a thing." Billy sat up, his big hands under your arms to steady you. He pressed one, then two kisses to your nose. "Ain't the first time I've been late cause I was kissin' you."

"Yeah?" Your knees were bent, positioned under his arms as you sat facing him between his legs.

"Yeah." He stroked your thighs, and you smiled sweetly before untangling yourself from him and standing up, leaving him with his legs sprawled out on the bed. Billy made a disapproving noise, reaching for you again.

You straightened your dress that he'd artfully messed up, adjusting the top back over your chest. "You should hurry and get it over with."

Billy held out his arms, playing his final card. "You sure? We could have some cuddles 'fore I leave." He said it in a tempting way, shifting comfortably on the bed.

When you bit your lip, he could practically hear you considering. You loved cuddling more than you loved kisses, which was saying something. He'd never met anybody who liked physical affection as much as you, and it heartened him. That was something he could give in abundance.

For a moment he thought he had you, but then you shook your head. "No. I wanna have longer cuddles later."

Sighing, Billy dropped his arms, swinging his legs to the edge of the bed and reaching for his boots. "Alright, alright." He stood, stopping right in front of you. You were giving him a look that suggested you were expecting him to pull you back into bed for just a few more minutes.

Instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, reveling in your glow for just a brief second. "I'll hurry, angel. Won't be gone longer 'n an hour."

The stars in your eyes were a supernova.

They were burned into his vision the entire walk to the Seven Rivers ship, and he kept your imprint on his heart close as he handed over the dealings to Jesse. "You get a good vendor this time?"

"No, just decided to take more blood." The words were foreign in Billy's mouth, and they felt strange coming out. He reminded himself that he was just playing a part, even though it made him feel awful. He'd repent with extra kisses later. "There's another job I took a little out of bounds. Figured I'd get you the money for a few weeks' worth for while I'm gone."

It was a half-lie. Billy was planning on going out of bounds, but really he was spiriting you away for a little while. Some time with his girl without the looming threat of the gang hanging over your heads.

Jesse raised an eyebrow, but nodded, looking back down at the money. "Seems right. Y'know, prices for this stuff've been goin' up. Don't know why." Billy swallowed, remembering the incident in the market.

His eyes lifted to a healing scratch on Billy's arm, one he'd obtained while stealing the diamond. "You have some trouble gettin' it?"

"Gettin' what?"

"The blood." Jesse gave him a funny look, nodding at his arm. "She scratch ya or somethin'?"

Billy followed his eyes. "No, ah...shirt caught on a corner. Got me bad."

His friend looked wary, leaning back in his seat. Jesse's makeshift office on the ship contained nothing but two chairs and a large crate that acted as a table. Right now it was strewn with papers and coins. Still, Billy felt himself shrink back, feeling as though his mind was being read.

Jesse clicked his tongue. "Y'know...after we had her aboard and got blood out of her the one time our fingers were stained for weeks with gold." He looked pointedly at Billy. "Ya'd think for all the blood you're gettin'...your hands'd be shinier 'n silver."

Billy couldn't help looking at his clean hands even though he knew what he'd see. Roughened but not dirty. He bit the side of his cheek, scrambling for an answer. "Well...I had to figure out a new way, y'know? Didn't want blood all over me all the damn time." He was playing defensive and he hoped it wouldn't come across as fake. Jesse was better than a hound when he wanted to be.

Holding his breath, Billy watched the other man watch him, eyes boring in. He could have beamed a hole through Billy's chest with that stare. Mind racing, he prayed he would take the bait, be satisfied with his money and not bother to discover how he got it.

Finally Jesse stood, holding out his hand for a shake. "Well, good on ya for figurin' it out. Ain't that somethin'?"

Withholding a sigh of relief, Billy smiled, nodding and standing, clasping his friend's hand. "It is."

But the conversation didn't leave his mind for a long while as he meandered back to his ship, cutting through the marketplace. Maybe Jesse had let it go for now...but what if he decided to come check up just in case? What if you were alone when he did? Billy's blood ran cold as he imagined you defenseless against the same group of men who'd attacked and kidnapped you.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh, looking around. The crowd wasn't as thick as it usually was whenever he walked through here. He could clearly see the vendors and their wares, their tables of goods. The memory of you raising his pay for the diamond rose up, and he smiled, remembering how impressed he'd been. How he'd wanted to shout to the world that that was his girl.

Then he remembered the look on your face as you'd watched the woman arrested for protecting herself. The way you'd cried quietly after you thought he'd gone to sleep, his arms wrapped around you.

Suddenly the desire to get back to you was paramount. Billy was about to move forward when something caught the corner of his eye, making him pause and turn to look at it fully.

Red boldened letters stamped to a piece of paper already worn by the climate. When he turned back to the side, he saw dozens more plastered to walls and even the poles of vendor stands.

Billy's brow furrowed. Was there a new policy he was unaware of? Something that would limit his comings and goings? He thought anxiously of how he'd been planning to take you away. His permit to travel so far wasn't valid for at least a few more days, and he wondered if whatever was posted all over the city would prohibit it.

Tearing the poster from the clumsily hammered nail, he scanned the contents of it- one enormous headline and fine print scrawled underneath.

Something doused him like a bucket of ice water, the hair on his arms standing at attention. Billy could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and he crumpled the paper into his pocket, breaking into a run for the ship.

Star People To Be Apprehended

"Anyone fitting the description of a Star Person will be detained upon sight. Citizens are encouraged to alert the authorities if they see a person or persons they suspect may be of this variety in exchange for a monetary reward. The punishment for harboring a Star Person is detainment for life."

By the order of the Intergalactic Justice Forces

"Fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes."

You pouted, folding your arms and giving him doe eyes. "Why can't I just come with you? If it's not even going to be that long?"

Billy gave you an exasperated but fond smile. "Because I've gotta stop for a few things on the way back. Can't have you in the market out in the open, sweet girl." He looked down at you, head in his lap. He'd been absentmindedly playing with your hair, braiding a strand the way you taught him how. There was a flower in your hair, stem woven around your ear, completing the vision. You were heavenly, even when you were frowning so adorably up at him.

"Maybe I can go to the market while you're getting the permit," you said, looking up at him hopefully. The messy bedsheets pictured you so perfectly.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, watching you melt into his touch. "No."

Huffing, you sat up, giving him a longing look that pulled at the loose threads of his heart where he'd stitched it up from the last time you'd pulled that face. "I haven't left the ship in three days Billy. I wanna go outside."

"I know, honey," he soothed, hand on your thigh stroking gently. "But we're gonna be outta here as soon as I get back 'n then we'll go far, far away from. We'll land somewhere real pretty." He said the last part hopefully, wanting to placate you for now.

But if you were a flower, your petals would be wilting. He could see your spirit dissipating like a misty cloud. Even on the road you'd been able to come outside provided you stayed in the vicinity of the ship.

But Billy wasn't about to take a single risk now.

He clasped one of your hands, meeting your eyes. It felt like every time he did he was starstruck by your sheer beauty. There wasn't a way to turn it off and he didn't want it to. "We'll be gone soon. It'll all be okay. Yeah?" Billy cupped your cheek in one hand, his palm shadowing your golden freckles.

You looked tired. He felt a pang of guilt, the emotion chewing at the corners of his organs. It had been a constant weight like a stone in his core ever since he'd seen the notice.

Asking around, he'd found out it had been triggered by the incident he'd seen with you. The Seven Rivers member he'd talked to had made it out to be a good thing, like your people were a vermin to be exterminated. "Lotsa folks’ e been feelin' the same way," he'd said proudly, adjusting his holster. "'Bout time someone did somethin' bout it. Filthy bastards."

It'd taken a massive amount of self-control to walk away.

The notice angered him beyond belief. It was well-known, if not acknowledged, that the Star People were treated as less than all because of the value of their life source. And now the law was using one incident to determine the fate of your entire species.

There had been whispers of the IJF selling blood in the past on secret markets. But Billy hadn't subscribed to it-he'd had no reason to. Now his only reason for anything was being threatened because of it.

He was grateful that the two of you were planning to leave anyways. Only he was damn certain that wherever he was taking you, he wasn't coming back. He'd wire Jesse and tell him that you had passed from blood loss (though the thought made him sick) and the two of you would be free forever.

There had only been the matter of his permit, and now, on the day he was set to pick it up, liberty was so close he could taste it.

Even though it was for a brief period of time, Billy couldn't stand the thought of you being miserable. He felt like a jailer, keeping you hostage aboard this ship even though it was for the best.

You never said anything of the like about him. No, you were too sweet, too good. It wasn't in you to resent him. But he resented himself for it.

The instinct to get you off this planet as soon as possible was surging within him now, and so he reached for you, relieved when you let him pull you into his chest. Your arms wrapped around him, warming a fire in his chest like always. Billy dug his nose into your hair, kissing your part. "I'm sorry. It's been tough, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathed, your fingers trailing up and down his back. His lips nudged your hair once more, and you looked up, a tiny smile on your face. "It's okay though."

Billy shook his head. "We can do better than that, angel." He framed your face in his hands, growing your smile a little bit more. "We will. There's lots of flowers where we're goin'."

"Lots of flowers?"

"Lots," he promised, thumbing your cheeks. "'n they're all growin' there, waitin' for you, sweetheart."

Now your smile had spread tenfold, and you tilted your chin up, your darling way of asking for a kiss. He indulged you with a smile of his own, and you muttered against his lips, "You should get going then."

"There's my girl," he chuckled, giving into the urge for one more kiss and standing up. You fluttered your fingers at him, and he tipped his hat as he put it on his head. "I'll be back soon, angel."

"Mkay," you hummed, rolling over onto your stomach and playing with a strand of your hair. He let his eyes linger on you before he left, your memory following him like perfume.

The exchange for the permit was fairly quick, and he whistled as he went about his business in the market, ignoring the guards blatantly stationed at the edges. They were eagle-eyed, scanning the perimeter and clutching their weapons. Always wary of the law, Billy kept his eyes down as he made his purchases.

He had been about to make his way out of the area that was now so tainted in his eyes, when a circlet with a simple star affixed to it caught his eye. Stopping to examine it, he nearly lit up from the inside out. Oh it was perfect for you. Something pretty to mark the start of your new life together.

Unfortunately, the line for that particular stall was long, and Billy thought about backing out a few times before ultimately deciding to stay. You deserved something nice after the hard few days you'd had. Besides, he knew you would love the bracelet. Jewelry was something you were utterly fascinated by, and he'd have you dripping with it if he could.

Finally he was able to pay, pushing through the hot crowd in a hurry. Where he had said he'd be gone fifteen minutes it'd now been nearly forty. Billy could only hope you weren't worried, that maybe you'd fallen asleep and he'd be able to crawl into bed with you in a few minutes.

Turning the bend into the grove where his ship was parked, Billy shifted the bag on on his hip when the scene before him made him freeze cold.

The door to the ship was open. And Jesse was kneeling on the ramp, holding a familiar flower between his fingers. One that had been lying amidst the stripes of gold in your hair almost an hour ago.

The bag slipped from his arms, and he hurtled forward like a meteorite, grabbing Jesse by the shirt collar and pinning him to the doorframe, breath hot as an angry bull's. "The hell did you do with her?" Billy demanded, grip tightening by the second. Images of the Seven Rivers Gang turning you in for a cash prize filled his mind, only furthering his rage. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" Jesse held up his hands, eyes like saucers as he took in Billy's white hot rage. "Swear. Promise. I just came by-"

"Did you see who took her?" The words tumbled from his mouth like dominoes.

"She was just out here," Jesse managed, looking between Billy's eyes. His hat was askew, and he was clinging to the wall, collar pulled taut as he backed into it. "By herself. She was just standin' here. 'N then one 'f the IJF came outta nowhere and got her."

The IJF...no... Billy let go of Jesse's collar, the world spinning beneath his feet. He stumbled back, turning to look into the distance as if he could spot them taking you away. No no no...how had they found out? How did they know...? Someone must have seen you with him in town... But it didn't matter, not really. All that mattered was that you weren't safe.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Billy nearly drew his gun. But it was just Jesse again, a strange look in his eyes like he'd never seen before. His friend was known for being cutthroat, a gang member down to his details. But now he was softened like butter in the sun. "She was your girl?"

It didn't matter anymore. "Yeah."

Flatteniing his lips, Jesse nodded. "Figured. Came by here to catch you in the act. Or somethin'."

Billy said nothing. He felt utterly despondent now, every sense blurring him. You must have been worried, wondering where he was. Maybe you would have wandered into the marketplace in search of him. Eyes falling to the plank, Billy noticed a spot of gold staining the metal that hadn't been there before. Something constricted in his chest, and he shut his eyes.

"Hey." Jesse shook his shoulder, his mouth set in a rigid line. "We can get her out."

"How?" The single word was dry, void of any emotion. All he could think of was you, terrified and helpless in a faraway place. Who knew where they had taken you, if you were even still alive?

"I know where they hold prisoners." Billy perked up, eyes lighting like fireworks. Jesse nodded again, patting his holster. "Ain’t the first time I’ve needed to break someone out. If we both go in, it'll be an easy take. You'll have 'er and then you can get outta here fast."

As Billy looked at his friend, turned foe for a while over the greatest love of his life, a flash of memories flooded him. All the times Jesse had stood up for him, helped him when nobody else would. He'd forgotten the brotherhood of bearing arms together, of making a hard living over and over while living in close quarters.

He'd forgotten his first friend.

Straightening up, Billy nodded, brows knitting together. "Lead the way."

With a half-smile, Jesse clapped his shoulder, turning to walk off the ship. The sun was setting, and it outlined him in gold. Billy couldn't help but think of you, the way you glowed without the radiance of any star behind you.

You were the star.

Jesse was right. It hadn't been a problem getting in. Two guards were taken out no problem, passed out in the dirt from the force of his punch. He and Jesse found a corner to hide behind, shoulders pressed together as they watched the passing patrols.

The structure was surprisingly simple, hidden not too far from the marketplace in the trees. And, he realized with an ache, terribly close to where you had lived when you'd first met him. The concrete walls were made for secrets of the law that he didn't even want to imagine, and he realized how lucky you'd been not to be eyed by the IJF before.

It was hauntingly silent, like a dug grave. Billy certainly felt six feet under as he looked down the hallway, at the row of doors, numbers written in chalk below the tiny windows.

There was no way to know which one you were behind, and he took in a frustrated breath as he thought about it. Sneaking through the forest, he'd caught glimpses of your ancestors winking down at him against the darkened sky. Billy had begged in his head for them to keep you safe, to protect you as best they could until he could get to you. I'll take over from there, I'll never leave her alone again.

Jesse nodded at the empty hallway, Billy's signal to start moving. He crept carefully into the area, glancing briefly through every window for your distinct glow. It ached his heart that he did see a few shining people similar to you, those who had gold in their veins. But they weren't you, and so he pressed on, thinking of the way you'd tried to run to the woman in the market that day.

You were brave, boldly beautiful in every one of your desires. He hadn't ever told you that, he needed to tell you that. Billy chided himself. You weren't dead. He would tell you when you were snuggled up in his arms again, far away and safe.

Approaching the last door, his heart fluttered hopefully. You had to be in here. There weren't any other cells in the facility, he'd made sure of it. But it hit him like a gut punch when the square space was empty.

Dread fell on him like rain, soaking every bit of his mind. You weren't here. A thousand other possibilities swam through his head, most of them assuming the worst. You'd been taken from him without doing anything wrong, and it was like ripping an angel from heaven and sending it to hell.

Grasping the door handle, eyes combing every bit of the space as if he'd somehow missed you. As if he couldn't have picked you out of a crowd of millions. No, no you had to be here. How...

No.

He didn't know what they had been planning on doing with those they captured. The rumors of blood use swam before his eyes. They wouldn't...they couldn't...

His heart sank, a stone in a river. As it thudded at his stomach, his mind unwillingly produced visions of a life without you. A life missing you. Billy had tossed aside all prophecies of what he'd thought his life would be before he met you. But now they were swimming to the surface, poking their heads up and waving. He would never find it in him to reach for any of them, put them on his mantle of dreams.

Knees weak, he shut his eyes, feeling faint. Oh claim him, stars above. Send him to be with you in the sky, your natural sphere. Or tell him at least which star was yours so he could gaze upon it every night. He'd settle for it, he'd get on his knees and thank your ancestors for that. If only to keep some semblance of you in his life.

He could imagine himself old and gray, no longer your handsome outlaw, staring up at the sky and hoping you remembered that he loved you. As unworthy as he had been, he had gotten one thing right.

Jesse came up beside him, gun drawn, and Billy forced himself to look up, not caring if his friend saw him in the depths of despair, where he would remain forever. Maybe he'd take him back in, to live on the Seven Rivers ship. Billy couldn't imagine going back to his ship, where he'd kissed and loved you so obviously. Your memory would haunt those hallowed halls, a spirit he would never be able to hold the same way again.

"C'mon, we've gotta go." Jesse didn't look excited about it, his eyes heavy. "They're gonna find us if we stay any longer-"

A scream tore into the night's poetry, blood seeping from the pages. Billy's ears perked up, and his heart grew lighter, floating back up to its place as he realized. Maybe it was a lover's instinct, but he knew.

It was you. It had to be you.

Turning to Jesse, Billy said, "Cover me." Hardly a pause passed before the other man nodded, holding his gun at the ready. Billy no longer cared about being quiet as he clomped through the halls, guards springing up from nowhere and aiming, firing shot after shot. Billy's gun was ruthless, and he shot without thinking, head only in one place. The scream had come from the furthest end of the prison. He could see the door in the distance, the only one in the area. When he'd searched the area earlier he'd assumed it was just an office.

Jesse shouted something and Billy ducked, narrowly missing a well placed hit. His feet couldn't move quick enough, and he grew impatient of the guards that kept coming up. It was endless, it seemed, especially when you were waiting at the end of the hallway.

One guard tossed aside his weapon and tackled Billy, knocking him flat to the ground and sending his own gun clattering. He was beefy, thicker, and Billy struggled under his arms, fists swinging. Firm knuckles smashed into his nose, and he winced, eyes watering, the familiar wetness of blood on his lip.

Adrenaline surging, Billy jammed his elbow up into his chest, hitting the sweet spot and making his opponent wheeze, body going limp. In a quick motion, Billy was able to shove him to the side and grasp his gun, scrambling to his feet and sprinting toward the door. It was like a golden beacon in the distance.

There were shots behind him, but he didn't risk a look back Jesse was a more experienced fighter than he was, and he could hold his own against a great deal of men.

Heaven was the touch of the doorknob under his fingers, cool metal on his hot skin. You were inches away, practically in his arms already. Billy swung the door open, gun drawn and ready to end whoever was holding you hostage.

The sight that greeted him nearly made him drop it again.

A body on the floor in a pool of scarlet leaking like a waterfall from the wound in his chest. Punctured by a glass dagger.

And you standing over it, hands over your mouth, dress a mess of gold and crimson.

Relief cascaded Billy like an avalanche before he had a chance to dissect the scene. He said your name once, voice gravelly, and your head snapped up, eyes going round. The tear tracks on your face may as well have been rivers. Your lower lip trembled. "Billy."

He stumbled towards you, taking you in his arms and collapsing to his knees. You were shaking like a leaf in autumn, shivering against his chest. Billy held you so tight he was worried you weren't able to breathe. But you clung to him, crying desperately into him.

Billy looked down at the body, recognizing the dagger and going still, realizing what had happened. He said a silent thank you to whatever had inspired him to get it for you.

No matter the reason, you were stricken with something beyond what Billy had seen in you before. Something he hadn't been able to protect you from, something he should have been there to defend you against.

Following his instincts, he stood, bringing you up with his arms supporting your body. You weren't walking out if he had a thing to say about it.

Jesse appeared in the doorway, blood on his clothes. He hardly blinked at the scene before him, instead gesturing to Billy. "Hurry. Think I got 'em all for now but there's more coming."

Before Billy could start to run, you reached up, burying your face in his neck and fisting his shirt. Your words were muffled, but he felt them. You were a language he was better versed in than his native tongue.

"I left the ship." The blame in your voice broke his heart.

Billy pressed his lips to your forehead, wincing when some of the blood from his lip came off on your skin. With your ancestors as his witness, you would never see another drop of blood, yours or anyone's again.

"No, I left." He heard footsteps in the distance and started to run, keeping you tight in his arms. "And I'm never doin' that again."

Exquisite things came in abundances in nature. Billy needed more than two hands to count them all, especially on this planet.

It was the epitome of peace, with towers of greenery, cities of flora and fauna as if a storybook had come to life. The wildlife was abundant and willing and beautiful, fluttering through the air and lying down in patches of sunshine.

He couldn't have dreamt up a better place to settle with you.

Here where he was standing on the porch of the cottage he'd built you, ship a greyish dot in the distance, he had a clear view of you in the field before the house, gathering flowers into bouquets of your own marvelous creation. There were flowers on just about every flat surface of your home, but he wasn't about to tell you to stop bringing them in.

You brushed your hair over one shoulder, grass tickling your calves as you moved to the side to pluck the perfect flower from the earth. Beautiful things find beautiful things.

This was one of his favorite things. To watch you in your element, when you were quiet, content in your heart. It had taken months since everything to get to this point.

He didn't know if you would ever forget that night. The things you'd been forced to do. Billy would suck that memory from your mind with a straw if he could, only leaving you with happy things. Every night that you woke up crying from more nightmares, which had become frequent, he pleaded with some higher power to put all the pain on him. He would bear your cross and let it weigh him down because it was yours. And if you ended up consuming his being he wouldn't complain for a second.

Billy began to make his way to you, never in a rush. He'd done enough running in his life. Now was a time for staying. Wanderlust was a thing of the past. Maybe he hadn't realized that he'd really been searching for something. And that something was looking up at him now, beaming like a sun and holding up a handful of flowers.

Reaching out, he smiled when you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest. The star bracelet on your wrist caught the light, as did the gold in your hair. He inhaled softly, your ambrosial scent overwhelming his senses.

Thick and thin. The worst of the worst. He'd do it all over again if it meant he got to have this forever.

There was a wire from Jesse waiting inside. Likely something lighthearted, letting Billy know the comings and goings of Seven Rivers as usual. He smiled at the thought, but then you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his and he decided it could wait.

When you bounced on your tiptoes, Billy lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. You leaned forward and nudged your nose against his. "You know, I think we'll be a constellation someday."

"Yeah?" The idea turned the future from silver to gold. "When you're in the sky again I'll be there too?"

You giggled, a swan song, and kissed him again, murmuring into him, "I'll hold onto you so tight that you can only come with me."

That sweet sentiment crawled over Billy like a vine, and he let his fingers glide up your back, eyes melting like warm chocolate.

"You hold onto me as tight 's you want angel. I ain't goin' anywhere."

[candy-ac3]

Welp I feel awful

So I been trying to figure out my gender for a while but the one thing that I’ve always came back to is that I’m a man, and so I told my mom this (for some context I have said I was using like they/them or she/they pronouns before but wouldn’t ever correct them because they would always say it’s hard when they would never use the right ones and I just stopped at a certain point) and so I told my mom how I wanted my hair and she asked why and I told her because I identified as a man and wanted it short again and she legit said “fine but I’m not calling you a he” and like I knew she wouldn’t she never did and she says she supports me being me but hearing that from her really does upset me and makes me feel awful

[alpacacare-archive]

its DESTINY

[stardestroyer81]

Happy fourth anniversary to... well, me! It was four years ago that I signed up for tumblr under the now all-familiar StarDestroyer81 name, and to celebrate, I come bearing some particularly exciting news I've been waiting a few months to announce...

⭐I HAVE A REDBUBBLE STORE!!! ⭐

Shirts, stickers, pins— you want it? It's yours, my friend; as long as you check out the above link! If you've ever wanted to directly support me— or would just love to have select works of mine on merch of your choice— I highly suggest giving my store a look as I put so much work into prepping it for my blog's fourth anniversary! 💙🏳️‍⚧️✨

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Hi there! I found your blog through your Joe Iconis posts, especially the ones for the Christmas extravaganza and I saw you sharing lore about it. Could I maybe inquire more about Mr. Macabee? Love all the clips of him, but I never quiet got his role and I wanna know more. (Also if you don‘t do that anymore, that‘s absolutely fine, have a nice day!)

oh it's excellent to get asks about posts that are at that ideal nexus of Very Specific (and probably niche enough that there's not the broadest pool of ppl it's already relevant to) and Especially Enthused, thank you! even if my response to such asks is a [shrug] in 500k words, it's fun, and hopefully there's any reward for having asked lol

here, unfortunately, it's Not an alignment of "enthusiastic nicheposting" and "my being someone who's ever actually seen the christmas extravaganza" lol....but somewhat extensive digging for posts about it does end up yielding some patterns / more of a sense of some things. but by no means do i even get the idea i know about like, the majority of the show, and all i know is secondhand and with plenty of just like, my inferences / how i understand/piece things together

i think the most Direct Commentary from people in the know is that, no new info here really, the precise phrasing "the old-timey barkeep" is used often enough across various sources that i think he Must be somehow introduced/described using those words in the show itself lol. and then there was the surprise moment in a relatively recent interview w/will roland where it's like, ooh getting more information about also elusively lore'd character jimmy armstrong? then on the edge of my seat about his saying his Interpretation involved building on a prior role of his, and absolutely not expecting him saying it was mister macabee, but delighted by it lol. and his describing mister macabee as sort of the spirit guide of the christmas show is maybe the one specific description of mister macabee which is from outside the show that i know of. certainly illuminating as a kind of reference point for all his material, i think

like, i know that the Plot in the christmas extravaganza is one where like, the whole event Exists as a show within its own show, with joe iconis as a character, and the audience, and then lots of other entirely constructed characters but also actors/performers sometimes showing up as Themselves(tm) in an at all humorously fictionalized kind of way, same as joe....so, i think mister macabee is Ostensibly a feature of [wherever the show is being held], like, he's "really" keeping a bar out here, supposedly the same as joe is really putting on this show and the audience is really attending it. and then i imagine he Just So Happens (Or Does He??? what if it's a magical christmas alignment. re: his being a Guide who's somewhat Outside the rest of what's happening, but intervening with a purpose) to keep helping the show along lol.

definitely know he does get involved with the show at various points, and seems to be one of the roles who is Always Around, off to the side or wandering around as the cast will do, or at least around often enough that the actor doesn't play multiple roles in any given show where they're mister macabee. like, he famously takes over the "here comes santa claus (super sexy edition)" sequence, will always be summoned by mister chestnut into his titular christmas medley, despite mister macabee not even knowing the lyrics (he does), being involved in the hard candy christmas sequence as well....with an unshakeable earnestness & self-assurance that he passes along to others and makes it so that, even only knowing so much about the role, i would pull his picture out of my wallet like "mister macabee what should i do" in any given situation. guiding continues

(also, it does Not clarify things, but that there's also this like, alternate? copy? evil (probably not)? mister macabee role played by some other actor, seems to be a pretty minor part though.)

so, what i know about mister macabee's role is: a bartender at whatever establishment is hosting the xmas show, a prominent part that's around too consistently for the actor to play other parts, sure seems to actively be always Helping the xmas show proceed via various manners of participation in it, a funny little christmas extravaganza friend who knows what he's all about.

[leatherbookmark]

a good thing to do every once in a while is to stand in front of the mirror, look yourself in the eyes and say MY KP/OP BOY IS 100% STRAIGHT AND MODERATELY GOOD AT SEX. this might not be true but it opens your mind to the possibility. also helps you stop assuming kpo/p guys are some kinda queer icons simply because they don't look like square-jawed frat bros and wear Celebrity amounts of make-up and colorful clothing

[synonymroll648]

IF LORE UPDATES APPLIED TO PEOPLE I WOULDVE JUST GOTTEN ONE OF MY HAPPIEST LORE UPDATES TODAY

[kyleknight]

dc comics is bullshit because if a green lantern ring came to earth and was like ok gotta find the bravest soul on this whole planet, it would go to a 6 year old oncology patient way before it even considered going to a test pilot or a soldier

[nochepsicodelica]

Perv Toji thoughts in the brain 😔 Fed you guys the fluffy pieces, now i'm thinking of the little weirdo in him.

Suggestive

Perv!Toji who slips his thumb past your lips when you start drooling after falling asleep on him. He wipes the drool that seeped out of the corner of your mouth before gently pushing down on the plush of your bottom lip and easing the digit into your slightly parted lips. His eyes remain lidded as he feels your soft, wet tongue with the pad of his thumb, and when you start to stir, he coos at you, soft murmurs of, "sleepy princess" and "I got you, baby". He's got the most satisfied look on his face when you don't question why his thumb is in your mouth, too tired to even bother.

Perv!Toji who cancels his gym membership and starts working out at home, because you said you wanted to join him in his workouts. He could never say no to something like that. This is just something else you can do together, but it'll have to be an at home thing, because he can't have people ogling you the way he does when he puts you to work. He won't make you do his exact intense routine, but he does push you to the point where you break a sweat. It's a must. He slowly walks around you, observing his favorite parts of your body as you do the warm ups he instructed you to do. Jumping jacks are one of his favorite things to watch you do. He likes watching your boobs and ass bounce, and because it's not just a simple set of ten or fifteen, you end up panting, a sound that sends his blood rushing down, down, down. When you get tired, he does the parts of his routine that he exempts you from. He has you sit on his lap while he does bench presses, he does his pushups, but he wants you wrapped around him as he does them, and so on. Everything is skin to skin because he's not gonna have you just sit there and watch when you have a better purpose.

Perv!Toji who can't hold consistent eye contact with you when you go braless and your nipples are poking through your shirt. He understands, from the many times you've said it out loud, that not all bras are comfortable. The prettiest ones, some of his favorites even, are usually the least comfortable to wear. They're a courtesy to the rest of the world, but when you're walking around at home, you free your chest from those constraints and he has absolutely no complaints about it. "Free those puppies" is a recurring line of his, and when you do get the bra off, your boobs instantly attract his attention, like they're magnets to his eyes. Sometimes his intrusive thoughts win and he'll reach out and grab a handful of tit. He's definitely not shy about it, either. He knows his hands are better than any bra you own. He can hold onto your tits and never get tired, he offers great support for your back when he's behind you, and massages are included <3

Perv!Toji who has the weirdest obsession with your tummy. He's constantly rubbing and pinching the soft flesh as a form of stress relief. The area is never clear of hickeys, there always has to be at least three on that part of you because he can't be gentle when he's kissing that area. I don't know, he's just internally feral about it and sometimes those feral feelings start to trickle out. Loves when you eat a good amount of food and you get a little belly. He's constantly thinking of putting a baby in you, so when your stomach protrudes that way with a food baby, it gives him the illusion of what you would look like in the early stages of carrying his baby.

That's all for now, buh-bye <3

[notchainedtotrauma]

On The Subject Of Bots: A Former Bot Farm Operator Speaks On The Process (Also spread this video all over this website. I mean it. Spread it. For a whole set of reasons-one of them being antiblackness)

ID [ Close up of a woman in a car wearing a green shirt. She has a dark brown ponytail. She says: 'I'm a a former tech employee that created and sustained a bot farm between 2015 and 2018 in California USA.

Wanna give you guys some information because American bot farm operators are pretty rare. Most bot farms operate oversea. I don't know if there's anyone like me in the US that can tell you this stuff is what I'm saying.

I'm typically way secretive about this but it's gotten so bad I need to talk about it

So what is a bot farm ? Something that an individual or a company purchases. You get a set amount of bots that look like normal people, go out, and spread your message. And here's the work that goes ino that:

I as a operator have to create each individual fake person. I have to create a bio. I have to create a username, a real name, then I have to generate content that has to be supportive of the message the client is paying for.

Positive opinion of the company or the individual. If anyone has ever tried to create content (you know that) that takes time and also that takes ideas; it's not easy.

Finally you need to program these bots based on activity. Bots respond to what you do.

You think that you going around and liking things is invisible. It's not. You're leaving a footprint across the app. That footprint is tracked by people like me. So based on what other people like or comment on, I program my bot to go and search for those people, find them, and then interact with them with my content that supports the message that I created.

This programming also includes research to find the people that are the most susceptible to believing the message that you're selling, and targeting those people. This is just a scratch on the surface of what it takes to program one of these. And people are buying hundreds of them.

Now here's the interesting part. The software to run all these bots is not free. And the time that it takes to create all the things that I just told you about also not free. All of this stuff costs money.

And it represents money when you see it. If you're seeing non stop videos posted with a certain agenda, someone's paying for that. So when you see a dump/ a ton of media that's telling you all the same message, do not say wow what a thing happening right now.

Please instead say wow who's trying to buy my opinion on this topic ?

End of the video ] End of ID

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

-----

You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

[harrysfolklore]

charles leclerc simping over his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | charles smau | charles headcanon

PART TWO

No matter where Charles went or what he did, one thing was constant - he simply could not stop talking about his girlfriend.

He was utterly smitten, and it showed through his words and massive smile every time her name came up. Fans quickly noticed Charles' habit of gushing over YN in interviews, on social media, with reporters, and even during casual interactions.

It became such a phenomenon that Formula 1 super-fans began compiling clips of Charles being a total simp for his girl into viral videos.

The most popular one was called "Charles Leclerc simping over his girlfriend: a compilation, and the 15-minute long video compiled some of the most hilarious, heartwarming, and over-the-top examples of the F1 star's borderline obsession with his girlfriend.

It opened with a clip from Charles' interview on Sky Sports before the Monaco Grand Prix. The reporter asked how special it was racing at his home circuit.

"It's amazing driving here where I grew up," Charles said with a huge smile. "But honestly, the best part is having my girlfriend YN here supporting me, this is already such a special race but having her here just adds another layer to it."

"Could you say that you have a good luck charm with you today?" the reporter asked again.

"Definitely, she's always my good luck charm."

The next clip was from Charles and Carlos' music challenge for Ferrari's YouTube channel, they had to guess the song that was playing with just a three second snippet.

"As it was, Harry Styles!" Charles said and rang the small bell that was placed in the middle of them as soon as he heard the first second of the intro.

"You've been practicing," Carlos stated as he pointed at him raising an eyebrow.

"I love this song," Charles said to the camera, "My girlfriend is obsessed with it, she plays it every day."

"And you talk about her every day," Carlos teased, elbowing him.

"I do, I do."

The video moved to show Charles with some fans, he was getting his luggage after a flight and they approached him asking for a picture, one of them filming the whole interaction.

"Of course, no problem at all," Charles replied warmly with a small smile on his face.

As he posed for a picture with the group, Charles noticed that one of the fans was wearing a Taylor Swift shirt. His eyes lit up with recognition and a smile spread across his face.

"I see you're a Taylor Swift fan," Charles remarked, pointing to the shirt. "My girlfriend loves Taylor too. She's always playing her songs around the house and talking about her."

"Wow, that's so cool!" the fan's eyes widened in surprise, "What's her favorite song?" they asked.

"I think her favorite is 'Love Story," Charles chuckled, "She says it reminds her of us."

"That's such a classic! Your girlfriend has great taste," the fan said.

"Thank you, I'll let her know you said that."

The next clip was from Charles' interview promoting his new ice cream brand called LEC, a reporter had asked him how did he come up with the creative names for each flavor.

"It was a teamwork between me and my girlfriend, actually," he replied with a smile, "She played a huge part on this project, everyone knows I could't had come up with Vanillove and Pistachi-on on my own."

The video then cut to a clip from the F1 Grill the Grid challenge, where drivers were playing 'Never Have I Ever", when asked "Have you ever missed a flight?", Charles immediately knew his answer."

"I have, more than once," he said, quickly adding, "But it wasn't my fault, my girlfriend has this long morning routine that she refuses to skip, even though she looks beautiful no matter what."

The video also included footage of Charles during a press conference before the Australia Grand Prix, a reporter asked him about his pre-race rituals.

"Well, I have a few things I like to do before getting into the car," Charles began. "But one thing that's become a bit of a tradition is a phone call with my girlfriend. No matter where we are in the world, we always find time to talk before the race if she's not there."

"What do you two usually talk about?"

"Oh, just the usual stuff," Charles replied with a grin. "She gives me some last-minute words of encouragement, tells me to be safe, that sort of thing. It's nice to hear her voice before such a big moment."

A clip form Charles' 'One week in Los Angeles' was also included, he was playing around at the basketball course shirtless.

"No way!" he said after he missed the basket again, "This is making me look really bad, I need to impress my girl."

The camera panned to her for a moment, and Charles sent a wink her way.

"Are you impressed, love? he asked, throwing the ball and missing once again.

"Very, but not by your basketball skills."

The compilation went on and on, clip after clip of Charles finding any opportunity to mention his girlfriend and proclaim his love for her. From the most casual conversations to the highest-pressure interviews, he just could not help himself from gushing.

As the video ended, the caption displayed: "Get yourself a man who loves you like Charles loves YN."