#if i had a lil moodboard to look at while writing this piece he would be in the center

[inkykeiji]

i can’t stop thinking about this shot,, this pose

[taehyungsgrowl]

uhhhh duncan in prison angst 👀👀

hey 👋🏽

i’m sorry this took me so long to answer! but i did make a lil moodboard to go w it :•)

also i've written quite a bit of angst lately so this will be a little angsty, but also smutty.

long distance(?) old school version of sexting, really

hope y'all enjoy!

(yes, i did just discover the indention feature!)

warnings: angst if you squint, h*rny love letters, prisoners cat calling y/n, aaaand smut

word count: 3.5 k (i really don't know how this was supposed to be less than 1,000)

i don't love how this came out but the idea kept floating around in my head so i wanted to share!

Y/N didn't think what started as a harmless little experiment would show her just how powerful words could be.

She scrolled through row after row of photos on the 'write a prisoner' website on a boring evening just for something to do. And now each time she got a letter in the mail from him, her stomach would flutter.

Her finger stopped mid scroll as she came across the photo of the scruffy faced man with cheekbones carved by the gods and eyes clearer than the skies.

Duncan Shepherd.

Her eyes scanned his profile, learning that he was being held in a minimum security prison out of D.C for numerous white collar crimes, including bribery and extortion. He listed his interests as fine arts and finer wines. He'd be out for parole soon but was looking for a way to pass his time in prison.

Out of the hundreds of prisoners Y/N had scrolled past, none of them held her interest like Duncan.

It started off innocently enough. She grabbed a piece of paper from her drawer and her favorite pen and wrote him a simple introduction letter. Even if Duncan didn't seem like a dangerous or violent criminal, she felt a sense of adrenaline in writing him.

Duncan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I like to imagine you get a lot of mail sent to you. I read on your profile that you're a fan of the arts, I'd love to know more about you and what kind of art you enjoy. Truth is, I don't even know why I'm doing this, but figured prison must be lonely so I hope this helps pass the time.

I included a print of one of my favorite pieces of art to hopefully liven up your cell.

All the best,

Y/N

Y/N knew it wasn't much to start off with, but she had no clue what to send to a strange she knew next to nothing about. She printed off a print of one of Monet's Water Lillies and sealed it in an envelope with her first letter.

She let herself forget she sent the letter, not making any expectations. For all she knew, Duncan Shepherd wouldn't even reply to her. It would be hard to imagine that other people browsing the site would ignore Duncan's profile. His beauty, even in a mugshot was beyond compare.

But before long, she'd gotten a beat up envelope in her mailbox from none other than Duncan Shepherd. Excitement buzzed around her as she took a seat in her bed and tore it open.

Y/N,

Thank you for the lovely picture. I've got it hanging above my bed as a reminder of things I loved about my freedom. My mother has an original piece hanging in my childhood home. I remember staring at it for hours, enthralled by the beauty of it.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the print in your envelope.

You know what they say about great minds.

Sometimes I wonder if my family would have let me pursue the arts if I'd be where I am today.

But I am eagerly counting the days until I am able to stroll through a museum in Paris again.

I am dying to know more about you. Tell me what makes up Y/N.

At the bottom of the sheet, was a rough sketch of a garden Duncan had drawn out for her.

The letters continued like that for a few weeks, slowly learning little bits and pieces of each other through writing.

She'd learned a lot about him very quickly. He told her about how troubles with his app and his powerful family led to him going to prison. And he also told her about all of the things he loved to do. Much to her surprise, she had more in common with him than she thought she would have,

Y/N,

We've been writing to each other for some time now and I must admit, curiosity is killing me. Not to mention, I do believe it's unfair that you've known what I look like from the start.

Tell me, did my photograph have anything to do with your interest in me?

I'd love to see you Y/N.

Y/N re-read the letter over and over trying to justify the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of Duncan thinking about her. Wondering what she looks like.

Duncan kept every letter Y/N had sent him using them as a way to fuel his daydreams of the woman behind the letters.

-

Y/N dug through her things in search of an old polaroid camera she had. - she thought Duncan would appreciate the use of instant film. Even if she felt a little silly doing so, she did her hair and makeup and searched her closet for the perfect outfit. In some way, this would be like Duncan's first impression of her. Little did she know, she'd already made a huge first impression with him.

She settled for a deep burgundy silk tank with a cowl neckline. She tossed her favorite leather jacket over it and put on her favorite dainty gold necklaces, letting them rest above her cleavage.

She made a little set up by the window in her room, where the light came in just right for a photo, and propped the camera up on a pile of books before setting it on an automatic timer to have it snap the photo of her.

She stared at the photo, smiling - happy with the results.

Y/N sat at her desk, writing him another letter and including her photo along with it.

-

Duncan opened his new letter from Y/N letting the photo fall from the envelope. He picked it up and stared in awe. He couldn't even focus on reading the words on the page as he stared at her picture.

In his mind, he expected her to be beautiful but was blown away by her photo.

He kept it safe, tucked under his pillow. He would take it out every night to look at it until he fell asleep dreaming of her.

Duncan saw her face... eyes clenched shut... pouty lips formed into a perfect "O" as her thighs surrounded his face.

He saw his hands traveling up her legs... kissing up her bare stomach... kissing her lips.

Everything felt so real.

Duncan woke up in a hot sweat from his over realistic dream. He could almost imagine her taste on his tongue.

The moon shone into his room giving him a sliver of silver light and he pulled her photo out, tracing his finger over her face.

He turned on the little lamp at his desk and sat down to write her back.

I can't tell you the time, but I believe it's past midnight and I can't sleep without dreaming of you.

Forgive me if I'm being forward, but I can't get you off my mind.

What I would give to be with you now...

Y/N, I want to feel your skin on mine. I imagine what it must feel like to have your lips pressed against my own.

I can't stop myself from thinking of all the ways I want to make you mine.

D.S.

--

I want to make you mine.

Y/N kept going back to those words.

If it weren't for the prison bars keeping Duncan away...

Her daydreams of spending the afternoons sipping coffee and strolling through colorful cities with Duncan began to change after the last letter. Knowing that he wanted her sent shivers down her spine.

I can't stop thinking about you either... Especially your last letter.

I want to know all the ways you'd make me yours.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it as well. I'm counting the days with you until you're able to get out and do just that...

Y/N colored her lips with her favorite lipstick and kissed the bottom of the page, leaving the perfect kiss mark on it.

She had unlocked something with Duncan with the last letter. Ever since he and Y/N started to exchange letters back and forth, he hadn't even bothered to open mail from other admirers. He only had eyes for Y/N.

Y/N.

Wish you could hear how your name falls off my lips as I chant it over and over when I bring myself relief - picturing your lips around my cock.

God.

It's hard to think clearly when you're on my mind.

You want to know of all the ways I'd make you mine? My hand would fall off by the time it took to write out each and every way I'd do that, sweetheart.

For starters, I'd love to skin my teeth into your skin. Leaving sweet love bites along your neck. Would you like that?

I wouldn't want you to worry about a thing.

You'd let me take care of you, right baby?

Maybe I'd tie up your wrists to make sure you keep still while I work on making you cum.

I hope you know I plan on keeping these promises the moment I get out.

Y/N touched herself as she read Duncan's letter again. His words making her pool between her legs. She dipped her hand into her panties and imagined everything Duncan described that he'd do to her.

Y/N wanted to do something special for Duncan.

She changed into a lacy lingerie set and grabbed her old camera again. Her heartbeat was beating fast with excitement. She held one hand up with her finger on the shutter and pointed it towards her bottoms. As she dipped her free hand into the waistband of her panties, she took the teasing shot of her hand inside her underwear.

Her cheeks felt hot as she took a look at the photo.

She took a few more. A few more teasing pictures - like the one she took wearing her leather jacket barely covering her - along with more R- rated photos.

She grabbed her small stack of photos and tied them with a piece of ribbon in order from least to most risque and added them to the letter she sent off to him.

Do you know what you do to me?

My letters make you touch yourself? What I would give to be able to see it in more than just your pictures. To be able to hear you for myself.

You don't know how much I loved your photos. You make my cock throb, thinking of just how much I want to fuck you.

I need to see you. Hear you.

How would you feel about coming to see me?

I can arrange with my assistants (the ones not in prison) to arrange a flight for you...

Please let me know what you think.

Love, D.S.

Love D.S.

-

"Shepherd. You got a call," the guard buzzed Duncan out of his cell and took him to the phone booth where the phone was waiting for him.

He wasn't expecting a call from his lawyer until later this week so he wasn't sure who would be calling him. Not like he and his family were on great terms at the moment.

Y/N tapped her foot anxiously on the other end of the call, trying to fight the nerves off.

"Hello?"

His voice was lower than she expected.

"Hi," she spoke barely above a whisper. "It's Y/N," she continued.

"Y/N? Y/N? Oh my god." Duncan smiled in a way he hadn't since he stepped foot into prison. "Your voice!" he laughed, "I'm hearing your voice! Wait, how? I - why? How?" he was at loss for words at the surprise.

"I hope it's okay. I called the office where I send my letters to and asked to call you," she bit her lip. "I like your voice."

Duncan chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow. It's so good to hear yours."

They knew they didn't have much time but they were both so wrapped up in the fact that they were hearing each other for the first time.

"I, uh, also wanted to talk to you about your... proposal from your last letter... about visiting you I mean." she paced back and forth in her room. "I'd like that. A lot."

His cheeks would be hurting from how hard he was smiling.

"You've got it, baby. We'll make it happen, I promise."

There was a brief pause, "Don't know how I'm gonna control myself when I have you in front of me, princess."

"Two minutes, Shepherd," the guard called over making Duncan roll his eyes.

"I have to go soon. But include your info in the next letter and I'll have my lawyers work something out with you, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "And Dunc, it's so good to hear your voice too,"

"You'll call me again?" he asked, desperation almost bleeding into his tone.

"Yes. I promise."

"Good." he grinned. "I'll talk to you soon. Bye, baby."

-

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Duncan continued to have phone calls more often, but their letters never stopped. He got in touch with his attorney and passed along Y/N's information for him to follow up and help arrange a trip for her.

Before she knew it, she was being flown out in a first class seat to D.C.

They had her stay in a luxury suite the night before she got to finally meet Duncan.

The morning of, Y/N had piles of clothes tossed around the room as she searched for what to wear.

She'd known Duncan and his taste pretty well from his letters and phone calls to know what he liked. Y/N put on a baby pink silk mini slip dress that tiptoed the line between streetwear and lingerie, and strappy heels.

"Damn, baby. Haven't seen you around here..."

"Are you here for me?"

Along with countless other cat calls flooded her ears as the guard led her to Duncan's cell.

Duncan heard the commotion down the hall and he knew Y/N would be there any second. He frowned, wanting to take her away. None of those creeps deserved to even look at her, and here they were harassing her. It was his fault for bringing her there. He tried to tune them out, wanting to be okay when he saw Y/N.

Y/N was standing behind the guard as they came to Duncan's cell.

"Follow me, Shepherd. You both have an hour," the guard let Duncan out and he could finally lock eyes with Y/N.

She froze, finally seeing. His photo on the website did him no justice. The piercing stare of his eyes couldn't be recaptured on camera. His pink, full lips were even prettier in person.

"Hi," Duncan broke the silence between them. He was handcuffed immediately so he couldn't touch her the way he wished he could have right away.

But they were taken to the parloir where they would finally have some sense of privacy. Duncan's lawyers had worked out for this conjugal visit. They might have slipped the guards a few extra bills to ensure Duncan and Y/N had extra privacy for a moment. But Duncan had been a model prisoner (in one of the comfiest prisons in the country), so the guards had no reason to say no.

"One hour." he reminded Dunc, as he removed his handcuffs and left the room, leaving Y/N and Duncan alone.

"You're here," he closed the gap between them and embraced her. She smelled even better than he imagined.

"Duncan," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "I can't believe it's really you," she giggled.

"It's me," he pulled back, holding her hands as he admired her. "God, you're gorgeous."

Y/N couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around Duncan and kissed him.

Duncan stumbled back a little before steadying them. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss. He could feel her pulse quickening under his hand.

"God, can't believe you're here," he mumbled against her lips.

It'd be so long since he'd be this intimate with anyone - let alone someone he liked so much. He tried to push back the thoughts of the ticking clock counting their time and the cold industrial feel of the room they were in.

"I'm here... I'm yours," she tangled her fingers in his hair before kissing him again.

Duncan led her to the table, setting her on top of it. He towered above her, his hands on her thighs, slowly inching up her dress. She was everything he imagined and more.

"Open your legs for me," he instructed, parting them open.

He lowered himself until he was face to face with her dripping cunt. Her panties, if they could even be called that - they were a piece of barely-there cloth - were soaked. Duncan pressed her lips to the wet spot on her underwear and kissed it slowly, letting his tongue poke out through his lips and coat them with his saliva as well.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured, pulling her panties aside and putting his tongue on her wet pussy.

He lapped her wetness with his tongue, letting it massage her clit. Sucking and kissing her - watching how every move he made caused a different reaction from her.

Y/N tried to keep quiet, biting down on her lip to stifle her moans.

Duncan peeked up at her, holding in her sounds. He remembered the way the other prisoners hollered at her.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Please," he begged. He kissed along her thighs, "Want everyone in this god damn prison to know you're mine."

Y/N let the sounds she was holding in fall freely.

"Duncan. Duncan..." she called his name over and over getting closer to the sweet relief his tongue promised.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

Duncan felt her heels digging into his shoulder blades as she trembled, finishing on his lips.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing along her thighs.

Duncan stood up as Y/N watched him with her hands pressed on the table, leaning back slightly to watch him.

"What?" Duncan chuckled, slowly undoing his jumpsuit.

"Just can't stop looking at you! You're real!" she laughed.

"Sure am," he grabbed his shaft, closing the gap between them. "I don't know when we'll be able to see each other.. like this again," he leaned down to kiss her. "Wanna make sure I make you feel good,"

He rubbed the end of his cock against her pussy. "Are you ready?"

"Waited so long," she whined, nodding her head.

Duncan pushed inside her, slowly. Savoring the way he stretched her open.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're so tight," he panted, feeling her clench around his length.

He focused on the way he snapped his hips into hers, keeping a steady pace trying not to finish before she did.

But it had been so long. It had been a long time coming for this moment.

His head was in the crook of her neck, panting heavily. "Fuck, baby." he sunk his teeth into her soft skin. "Gonna cum," before he could finish his statement, he shot his load into her.

He stayed inside her as he rode out his orgasm.

Flushed Duncan faced her; embarrassed for finishing before he wanted to. "I'm sor-" she stopped him by pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss.

She pushed his hair out of his face, bumping her nose with his, "Nothing to be sorry for."

She had Duncan lay on the floor, using his jumpsuit to hold his head up, and then straddled his waist.

Her silky mini dress was bunched around her hips. Duncan found himself getting hard again as she climbed on top of him.

"Thought about doing this for so long," she kissed him. "Can't tell you how often I touched myself reading your letters... thinking about riding you," she sighed, positioning herself over his cock and sinking down.

She rode his cock, bouncing up and down his length. Her nails dug into his chest as she used it for support. The curve of his cock hitting her core made her eyes roll back with each roll of her hips.

Hot sweaty bodies had the coldness of the room forgotten.

Y/N grabbed Duncan's hands, intertwining their fingers, "Gonna.." she started, her legs shaking as her movement got sloppier.

"Me too," he grunted.

She felt Duncan fill her to the brim for the second time.

After a few moments of stillness, Y/N finally stood up, helping Duncan up with her. Her legs were shaky and Duncan helped her sit down.

She reached into her purse for a rag she brought. Duncan took it from her hand and got on his knees again. He cleaned their cum off her thighs, stopping only to give her small little kisses on her legs.

He heard Y/N sniffle and looked up, concern painted across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Is she regretting it? He thought.

"No! Of course not," she sniffled again, "I just wish... you could come with me. Leave this place with me."

"Oh, baby," he stood up and kissed her forehead. "Soon. I promise," he tilted her chin up to kiss her.

And Y/N knew he meant what he said. Soon they'd be able to be together all the time, but it still broke her heart to leave and have to see him stay behind the metal bars.

tags:

@desertsunflower00 @celestialrequiem @dhampiravidi @ritualmichael @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @xavierplympton @langdonswhoreprobably @feralthoughtdump @wroteclassicaly @melodylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860

bonus: screenshot from a very good point drunk!anon made vkfsjk

[lordabovehelpme]

Spooky Day- Din Djarin x Reader

(Lovely moodboard by the amazing @jedi-jesi !!!)

Request: For dfwl, what if one of the kids ask din and reader about their childhood. Like this is gonna be a little sad bust fluffy, also I just wanna know more about tiny din and tiny paz adventures in dumbas*erry or even dins happiest memories back when his parents were alive? Thankyou!! Its probably gonna be a lil sad but hopefully not TOO sad yknow. Thankyou so much!!I love your writing

A/n: Yess, tiny Din and tiny Paz are my favroite little bros! I love writing for them. Hope you enjoy! 

This is the next part of my Days Filled with Love Series, you can find the first part here. :)��

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mommy?” Myles hushed voice wakes you from your slumber.

“Hmm?” Opening your eyes, you look over to the side of your bed.

“I had a bad dream. Can I snuggle?” He doesn’t even wait for your response before he lifts the blanket and crawls under it. Lifting his fathers hand from where it drapes across your waist, and tucking himself into your side.

You wrap your arm around him and slowly comb through his curls. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head and turns around to face your body, then places his own arm where your husbands had just been.

“Okay, just try to go to sleep then.”

A groan falls from the mandalorian as he stirs. His head lifts from where it was tucked into your chest. One of his eyes lazily opens and finds your son at your hip.

“What’s wrong bud?”

“He had a bad dream.” Using your other hand, you pull him back into his spot and silently beg for the two of them to just go back to sleep.

He murmurs out a “oh” but you can tell it hadn’t really processed in his tired brain.

“Mommy, can you hold me?” Myles voice is quiet and uneasy, whatever was in his dream obviously has shaken him.

“Of course.” Pushing your husband over onto his back, much to his dismay which he signifies with a loud groan, you roll and wrap both arms around Myles, pulling him close into your arms. He sighs happily and squirms a little, trying to find the perfect comfortable position.

You press a kiss to his shaggy curls and give him one last squeeze before settling down and trying to fall back into your slumber.

A loud sigh comes from the man behind you. When you give no response, he sighs again, this time making it louder. Waiting a few minutes, he does it a third time.

“Oh my goodness, you big baby.” Smiling, you giggle, “Did you know that your father could be so annoying?” Myles grins and shakes his head. “We better give him some love of his own before he sighs away all his breath.”

Myles crawls over your body and plops down in between you both, rolling over yet again, you grab him and settle in just as you were, expect this time facing the brooding mandalorian.

“Daddy come snuggle.” A soft smile works its way onto his face and he shuffles over. Pulling not only Myles, but you into his own chest and wrapping his arms around you both. He rests his head on top of your own and this time gives a content exhale.

“Everyone happy now?” Two murmurs of yes grace you and you can’t help but grin. “Good, now let's all go back to sleep.”

***

Pans and dishes clank together, signifying someone moving around in the kitchen. The faint scent of pancakes waft into the open door of your room.

Opening your eyes, you try and place where you are and what is happening. The sun shines in and dances off of the snow. Myles is still tucked into your side, a small spot of drool on your shirt, and his hair tousled and messy.

The spot where you husband usually lies is empty, but still slightly warm. He must have just got up. Slowly, you shift away from your son, making sure to not wake him. Little snores fall from his lips and it’s almost like someone had shrunk the mandalorian in his sleep. You pull the blanket back up over him and leave the room.

Walking down the stairs, you lean against the doorframe in the kitchen. There Din stands, flipping pancakes while grumbling to himself. Those godforsaken grey sweatpants hang low on his hips and the muscles in his back ripple everytime he flips one.

“Hello handsome.” Biting your lip, you try to hide your smile.

He turns around and immediately walks over to you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Dad! Are you making pancakes?” Reeza stomps down the stairs and if no one was awake, they sure are now.

He gives you one last peck before breaking away. “Yeah, wanna help me?”

“Yeah!” He picks her up and holds her on his hip, letting her flip the pancakes when they are ready.

Myles walks down the stairs and behind him, Grogu follows. “Good morning you two.” Picking Grogu up, you press a kiss to his forehead before letting him walk off to the table. You lean down and take Myles into your arms, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “Do you feel better today?”

He nods, but doesn’t let go of you. “Thank you for letting me sleep with you.”

“Oh baby, you don’t need to thank me. What kind of mother would I be if I wasn’t there for my strong boy?” He stays clutching the back of your shirt for a little over a minute before releasing you and sitting down at his seat.

Walking up the stairs and into the nursery, you are met with the soft breaths of Tobbi and Isabet. It’s almost like she knows you’re here because one of her eyes opens and peers up at you before her arms reach up. Her legs kick out and a little grunt falls from her lips.

“Good morning little girl.” Picking her up and placing her in your arms, she smiles up at you. “Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?”

“Mama!” Giggling, you tickle her stomach before going to change her diaper.

“There we go, feel better?”

“Mama!” Her little arms lift and her hand reaches out to you. Smiling, you press kiss after kiss to her face, basking in the loud laughs she gives you.  

***

After feeding both the twins, you take them in your arms and walk back down to the kitchen. The three kids as well as your husband sit at the table, stuffing ungodly amounts of pancake into their mouths.

“Mommy! You’re back!” Reeza exclaims with her mouth full of the breakfast food.

“Hey! Don’t speak with food in your mouth.” Din glares at her. “And you, stop playing with your food.” He says while pointing at Grogu. The child only coos while dropping the piece of fruit he was levitating in the air. Smiling, you shake your head.

“Daddy can you tell us a story?” Reeza asks, this time without food in her mouth.

“Yeah one with Uncle Paz!” Myles adds on.

“Hmmm. Let me think.” He reaches out to you and practically begs with his eyes for you to hand him one of the twins. Smiling, you give him both and sit down to eat your own breakfast.

“Oh, I know. One time, Paz and I were about fourteen and we had stayed out late one night wrestling. The walk back to the covert was not far, but it was a little bit of a trek. However, it was now super late and they weren’t any lights.”

“I thought you said you guys had curfew?”

He looks at you and quietly says, “We did.” Looking down at his children he continues on with his story, “Anyway, we started walking back and I have no idea how this came about, but we started joking about how we were escaping zombies.”

Now you really start to laugh. “Zombies?” Reeza asks. Myles snickers as he looks down at his fruit bowl.

“Again, I have no idea where this came from. But as we were walking and the longer we were joking about these zombies who were chasing us, the more we started to believe it. So now we are becoming more anxious and we start picking up our pace. It comes to the point where we are running back to the covert. We’re looking back and forth expecting to see these zombies around every bush and tree.”

He breaks off to laugh himself, eyes crinkling in his joy. “We were almost to the covert, in fact we could see the lights from inside. But one of the leaders was waiting outside for us, because we were going to get in trouble. However, in our panicked minds we saw him as a zombie. So when he walked out from behind a tree to yell at us. We jumped and Paz screamed. We held onto each other and we both started to square up. When the leader tried to ask us what was wrong, he moved closer to us. Paz, in his fright, punched him right across the helmet.”

All of you break out into hard uncontrollable laughter at the thought. “Wait so what happened?”

“Let’s just say that we both can agree that we never want to clean a covert bathroom again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Part: Valentines Day

I hope you guys liked it!!! As always, feedback is mega appreciated! 

Love you all, Lordy :) 

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty​ 

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist- just give me a holler and I’d be happy to do it! :) 

[freelancearsonist]

February Fic Recs!

Hi everyone! I’ve realized that part of the problem with interaction within the fic community is that not as many larger creators are doing their part to reblog and recommend fics like they used to when I first joined Tumblr. And while I wouldn’t really consider myself a “large” blog, I still want to do my part to help boost my fellow creators :) So here’s a list of what I read this month!

02.01 // “a letter addressed to the manager of the letter room” by @propertyofabelmorales (Richard Alsonso-Munoz) // I’ve read this at least three times omg because it’s currently the only Richard content we have and it’s wonderfully written and the letter format is unique but really interesting and so fitting given the character so yeah 10/10 please keep ‘em coming Vic 😂

02.02 // “Walls that Come Down” by @houseofthirst (Nathan Bateman) // this made me horny and made me cry at the same time and I think it’s really unfair that you have the power to do that to me tbh 😂 This is so wonderfully written and such a beautiful take on Nathan’s character and ugh lemme go cry in my corner

02.03 // “Meet Me on Endor” by @autumnleaves1991-blog (Poe Dameron) // “You are so beautiful, all the time” made me tear up a little bit because it’s so distinctly Poe and I also horny cried because god I’d give anything for this man

02.04 // “In the Night” by @jawabear (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // this was emotional and beautiful and sexy all at once and it made me cry a lil bit in bed at 2am and honestly I thank you for it

02.05 // “Something About You And I” by @sacklerscumrag (Poe Dameron) // This was beautifully written and also so so so sexy and I realized I might have a bit of unresolved bondage kink while reading this so thanks for that 😂

02.06 // “The Night That Follows” by @roanniom (Poe Dameron) // I found this kind of by accident and then it turned out to be one of the most beautiful fics I’ve ever read in my life??? I’m seriously like trembling how can someone pack so much talent into one sexy fic I’m—

02.07 // “The Punishment” by @mandorush (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // This is so fucking sexy what the fuck and then I found out it’s a whole series??? Yeah so needless to say my 2am binge was entirely worth it omg 🤤

02.08 // “Dessert is on the Counter” by @nathan-bateman (Abel Morales) // I read this before you posted to make the moodboard but I’ve legit reread like seven times since then omg. A quality fic in every way. 10/10

02.09 // “Affection” by @wasicskosgirl (Llewyn Davis) // This is one of my all-time favorite fics for my favorite man 😭 everything about this is so cute and I would literally die to snuggle with this sweet boy 😭

02.10 // “Tell Me” by @rebellou (Poe Dameron) // I don’t even know what to say omfg this is one of the hottest things I’ve ever read in my life and I’d like this fic chiseled onto my gravestone so I have something nice to take with me into the afterlife

02.11 // “Romantic Dreams” by @witchyavenger (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // Yeah I want this holy hell this was so spectacularly written and so sexy and 😩 god I can’t even have kids but I wish he would breed me omg

02.12 // “Pressing Camera Questions” by @youvebeenlivingfictional (Nathan Bateman) // Omg this is so wonderfully constructed, even as something of an introductory piece to this series. I’m so excited to see what comes!

02.13 // “Free Fall” by @michaelperry��(Mikael Boghosian) // There’s so little fic for Mikael on this site and so finding this kinda felt like striking gold 😂 especially because it’s so wonderfully writing and so sexy and 🤤

02.14 // #valentines fic tag by @propertyofabelmorales (Literally every Oscar Isaac character) // I got to read so many amazing fics today because of the Valentine’s fic exchange but shit dude you went above and beyond!! I wanted to only plug each author once on this fic rec calendar but there’s no way I couldn’t give you a shout out for this. Even in addition to your piece for the fic exchange you wrote so much incredible fic for literally every character I can think of (including Marcus!!!!!!!!! As I’m writing this you haven’t even posted his yet but I saw his name on the list and I’ve been having heart palpitations ever since) so yeah explore this tag because there’s fic for literally everyone and it’s all so wonderfully written and *chef’s kiss*

02.15 // “ghosts” by @unstoppableforcce (Javier Peña) // This one gave me CHILLS omfg this is just the first part and I was rolling on the ground. Everything about this is so beautifully constructed and haunting and UGH this is amazing 😭

02.16 // “Pretty” by @waatermelon-sugaar (Blue Jones) // Holy shit this unlocked like seven kinks that I didn’t even know I had 🤤 this was so wonderfully written and so sexy and realistic? Idk if that’s a good descriptor but like I could feel everything you were describing sdkfdkfjdkfj I LOVED THIS

02.17 // “home.” By @pascal-isaac (Llewyn Davis) // Look I wish I was kidding when I say that I’ve read this fic upwards of seven times sdkjskdjskd this is one of my all-time favorite fics and it only gets hotter with age 😩 this fic is like a fine wine and I would like to have it inscribed on my tombstone when I inevitably escape from this plane of existence

02.18 // “Turning to the Dark...” by @mylifeisactuallyamess (First Order!Poe Dameron) // If I’m being honest I’m not usually a fan of darker fics but this one worked for me. It was so sexy and honestly kind of beautiful in the way you describe the interrogation and later Poe’s willful turning. I really enjoyed this and will probably read again 🥺

02.19 // “My Best Decision” by @knivesareout​ (Javier Peña) // Fuck guys I’ve had baby fever like a motherfucker this month and this made it so much worse 😂 Dad!Javi is so fucking cute omg and this fic was SO SEXY and it really hit all of my bases 😩

02.20 // “my sweet baby” by @writingletterstothefire (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // Look I’ve read this fic 293394 times and it’s good EVERY TIME. Dirty Dancing is the good kush and this fic made my obsession with that movie like 1000 times worse omfg. I read this every time I’m in a bad mood and it just puts a smile on my face so fast omg I would literally beg for a longer version

02.21 // “Sounds of Silence” by @veuliee2 (Orestes) // This fic? This fic right here? Lives rent free in my mind. To the truest capacity of the statement. I wish I was kidding when I say that not a single day goes by where I don’t think about this. I don’t even really know what to call this? Maybe Something along the lines of associates to lovers? Whatever this qualifies as it’s literally one of my absolute favorite fics of all time and I will never forget the way you shattered and mended my heart with one story

02.22 // “Mr. & Mrs. Cooper” by @aellynera (Bud Cooper) // THIS IS BRILLIANT THE ENTIRE WAY THROUGH ok first of all that this is like one of two fics for this character 😂 but also this is the most beautifully, ironically constructed fic ever? Everything about this is entirely grasping and there’s THREE PARTS that are all just as good as the rest and 😩 I literally couldn’t ask for a more perfect fic

02.23 // “Catch” by @ollypopp (Poe Dameron) // This is a short drabble but I had to include it because DAMN this is so sexy and wonderful for such a short piece and I’ll be thinking about this for the next month so thank you 😂

02.24 // “Blooming most recklessly” by @writefightandflightclub (Evgeni Kolpakov) // This is so beautifully written while simultaneously being so sexy???? How do you do it Luna I am forever in awe of your talent 😭 I can just visualize everything he says and does so clearly and I’m so in love with this piece 😭💛

02.25 // “falling for you” by @luminouspoes (Poe Dameron) // This is the cutest thing ever wtf 😭😭 The pining is so strong even though it’s short and it’s just all around so wonderfully written and I must go cry in my corner now

02.26 // “Liability” by @honeymandos (Nathan Bateman) // THIS WAS GORGEOUS WTF I’m crying over some soft Nathan in this house tonight 😭 I was legit so worried for a while that he’d send reader away but then he CAVED and my heart sang hallelujah—

02.27 // “electric spark” by @woakiees (Duke Leto Atreides) // Hi I need everyone to read this please so it can destroy your body and live in your mind and occupy all of your waking thoughts like it does for me k thanks

02.28 // “The Child” by @starryeyedstories (Poe Dameron) // This was the sweetest thing ever what the heck 😭😭😭 I am eternally sobbing over this lil found family-ish vibe and dad!Poe is literally everything I’ve ever wanted and UGH I have to go cry for the next month

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 6

The Museum

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You and Chris enjoy a day at the museum as the first act of your newfound clean slate.

Warnings: pure Fluff for once, the usual silly antics

Notes: Back to our regularly scheduled fanfic-ing. Hope y’all didn’t mid that mid-series break; I literally forgot how to write. But it was fun getting back in the groove of fluff! P.S. I miss museums. Read the previous part here and check this part’s moodboard + music.

Chris’ pace is quick as he walks the city sidewalk, evading puddles in his path. Sprinkling now, he doesn’t want to test his luck walking leisurely as he normally would. Normally, he’d take the time to gawk at the beauty and bustle of his city. But not today.

Today is a rainy Monday in Boston, perfect for your indoor date. Except, this is not a date. That’s what Chris told himself. That’s what he told his friend and brother… then himself again, especially now as a reminder to slow down his increasingly speeding heartbeat with each step. He’s only late for a friendly hang out with you, not for a date. 

“Chris! Slow down!” Chris’ mother yelled from behind him. Oh yeah, and Ma. He stopped momentarily for Lisa to catch up. With a smile, he offered his mother his arm to take, and they walked together at a more acceptable pace to their destination. “Well somebody’s eager to see a certain somebody else,” Lisa teased, her son’s nervous and excited energy not going unnoticed by her maternal eye.

“Just… just don’t want to miss any part of the tour, is all,” he says, ears tipped red.

“Uh-huh…”

A few more paces, and the mother-son pair arrived at the MassArt Art Museum. Inside, they’re greeted by high ceilings and white walls like blank canvases. Grandiose, multi textured sculptures add a plethora of color to the space, some stand tall from the floors, others hang low and ceilings. The bright colors and lights could easily make you forget the dreary Fall day outside, the inside of the museum matching the inside of Chris’ chest.

Chris is shrugging off his raincoat when his mother goes to check them in. “She’s probably already in the crowd over there,” she points in the direction of a large group. “Go ahead and look for her; I’ll find you in a bit.”

The tour group with a median age of about 78 is already eagerly gathered in the lobby around a museum tour guide. Chris scans the crowd, large than he anticipated, probably about 100 if he were to guess, but can’t seem to spot you. He decides to remain in the back of the group, figuring he’ll find you once the tour gets moving. Chris tunes into the addressing tour guide for the time being.

“Once we’re in the exhibit, I want everyone to remember…”

“On your left.”

Chris side-glances down to his left side to be met by your profile staring straight ahead in the same direction he was just a moment ago. He took in your kinky-curly fro, a little shrunken and and slightly frizzed than usual because of the humidity, but it worked for you. Your face is fresh and free of makeup, a look you seemed to like to sport, and he thinks to himself that he likes it on you, too. After a moment of no response from Chris, your eyes flutter up to him. He’s met with your smirking face, but you then turn your attention back to the tour guide. You both pretend to listen.

“Really? ‘On your left?’” Chris finally says.

“What’s the matter? Captain Amer—“

“Shhshsh!” Chris hovers his thick pointer fingers, over yours and his mouths to signal you to stop your thought.

You brought your chin all the way into your neck as a natural instinct to retreat the offending phalange in your face. You push his hand out of the way before harshly whispering. “You gotta not!”

“YOU gotta not!” He harshly whispers back. You quirk your brow and slightly roll your neck at him. In a less anxious whisper he says, “Keeping a low profile, thank you.” Then it all makes sense. The cap, the hoodie, the shrunken stature and a standing in the back.

“Oh… my bad.” You deflate, once again returning your gaze to the speaking tour guide. You truly hadn’t thought of the repercussions of mentioning his Marvel movie moniker.

You’ve not had to deal with that level of notoriety… not yet, anyway. The level where a blown cover in public could mean the dissension of fans and paps alike. The level where you needed a cover in the first place. Sure, you get recognized every now and again, but you’re by no means at mega star, shades and hoodies, constantly looking over your shoulder status.

And you loved that. You could sympathize with Chris. You’ve seen how crazy it can get, and it definitely is worth protecting yourself from.

Chris has been trying to keep his attention ahead, but he glances at you every few seconds. He senses the air around you change. There’s a ballet of expressions dancing across your face. You knitted your brows together, released and raised them, with your eyes and lips following suit in similarly stressed movements and shapes. You’re deep in thought.

“You alright over there? Museum guidelines aren’t that moving.”

“I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just was trying to poke fun at you, not blow up your spot.”

Chris sighs and smiles at your sentiment. “It’s alright,” He bumps your shoulder when he sees you’re still distraught. He gets a smile out of you. “Hey, you know what would help? If you stopped staring at me. Would draw less attention.”

“Uh, puh-lease! You wish I was staring. Nice try at projecting, though.”

Chris quirked a confused brow, turning to you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what took you so long to answer me a minute ago?” Shit, Chris thought. “That’s what I thought,” you sassed.

“I wasn’t staring at you per say. There’s a lil somethin’ in your hair…”

“What? What is it?!” You delicately touch around your curls searching for the offending object.

“Here lemme help,” Chris says as he stands to his full height over you. You look up at him with those darling eyes of yours, and he looks down at you, breath caught in his throat. Just a second later, he comes back to earth as he’s plucking something weightless from your hair. He slowly brings his hand down from your head to show you what he’s retrieved. “It’s just a little… piece… of stupid,” and he boops your nose.

“You know what!” You say in a loud whisper while you enjoy hitting his arm as retaliation.

Chris feigns hurt with a gasp. “That was mean,” he’s pouting trying to suppress his smile. He pokes out his elbow towards you. “Kiss it, make it better.”

“Ugh!” You shove him away, turning your head away from him, biting back your smile. You're failing miserably when you look back to him, and he’s wearing a boyish grin himself. “You are absolutely—“

“SHHHHH!!!!” You jump and Chris clutches his chest, both of you wide-eyed and taken aback by an old man that’s turned around to shush you two.“If you two are gonna flirt, do it quietly!”

You and Chris start to stumble over your words while talking over each other.

“No, whaaa? Flirt… Huh?”

“We weren’t, like…”

“Yeah, that’s not— um…”

“Totally not what’s—“

“Not like this is a date,” Chris blurts out with a nervous chuckle then freezes in place. It’s one of those *unfortunate* moments when his mouth moved faster than his brain. He stares straight ahead, not daring to look at you. If he had, he would have seen you had a matching stunned look from his blab.

“They’re sorry, Mr. Abara,” you both feel a hand on your shoulders as Lisa comes up behind you to intervene.“They’ll be on their best behavior from here on out, right?” She nods in a prompting manner, you and Chris following her lead.

“We’re sorry,” You mumble.

“It was her fault…” Chris says, earning him smack on the shoulder from his mom. “What?! It was!”

Mr. Abara turns around with a ‘hmph’, causing you and Chris giggle like teenagers at the grumpy old man. Lisa clears her throat and you and Chris straighten up.

“You two can’t help but draw attention to yourselves, huh?”

Before either of you could refute, the tour guide is ushering your group to the showroom for your day at the museum to really begin.

——————————————————————————

The exhibition was amazing to say the least. You’d never heard of the artist before, but you were astounded by her unique use of color, texture, and light in her work. And she was a sista? You were definitely going to keep her in mind for upcoming projects you had.

However incredible the artwork was, you’re not too sure how it compared to the entertainment that was the social show.

Your trio strolled together, taking in the majesty of the first few pieces. After a while Chris starts to linger behind you and Lisa for a bit. He admires the way you and his mom get along, walking arm-in-arm looking at the art.

The tour guide has everyone gather around a specific piece. “This one is my absolute favorite! It’s called ‘Mother Earth’. Do be shy; you can get close, but do not touch.”

When you step up to the piece, Chris is also does from the other side. He smiles and offers a quaint wave as if it’s your first time meeting. You reciprocate, and both proceed to lean in to the art for inspection.

“Wow,” you say as you marvel at the depth of blackness that outlines gaps for open air to breeze through. The piece has incredible curvature that makes the inanimate object look as if it were ready to continue dancing any minute now. All it needed was the right song or magic words to bring it back to life. You move around the pedestal to look at it’s other sides, Chris moving at the same rate across from you, equally as intrigued. There’s glints of gold, silver, emerald, and jade that add to its enchantment. “You ever see something so mysterious and beautiful and wonder, ‘Where did you come from?’”

“Yeah,” you move slightly, and your now eye to eye with Chris through one of the spaces within the sculpture. His Cerulean orbs pierce through to you thoughtfully, endearingly, making you wonder what he is thinking. “Yeah, I have.” Surely he’s not talking about…

“Alright people!” The tour guide shouts with a clap. “Let’s keep it moving!”

You stand up straight, while Chris glides over to you, hands his pockets, bouncing on his toes. You both have found the ground to be particularly interesting as you walk alongside each other to view the next piece of art. Standing before it, there’s not much of intellect input you can give with Chris’ presence fuzzing your brain. The silence is kind of enjoyable between you two, though. The pressure to fill the air with witty quips is at bay at this moment, and it's nice.

After a while, you both tentatively turn towards each other. Chris goes to say something, you’re sure it’ll be his analysis of what the artist’s intent is, but he doesn’t start his thought. Instead, his arm is being linked by some elderly woman.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hiya, Handsome,” she purrs, causing Chris to chuckle and rub the back of his neck. She leans her head on his shoulder and places her free, wrinkly hand on his chest. “So tell me what you think of this piece?” She says coyly.

“Umm…” Chris looks at you for help, but you are none. You just smirk and motion your head towards the art, urging him to answer her question. “Well, I think it’s speaking to the unique experience and intersectionality of being both black and a woman in the Diaspora. There are nods to the many hardships, horror, and passed down trauma that black women have and continue to endure, yet it so often turn into the most beautiful fruit, works worthy of high regard and praise by graceful, powerful women who are also deserving of such, tenfold.”

“Wow…” you and the ogling old-timer say simultaneously. He shyly looks at the ground and you shake off the spell of his summation. I’m not REALLY about to give this man points for stating basic YET ignored facts, am I? I’ll put a pin in this, but damn will I look at him differently.

“Y’know,” Chris’ amorous aged arm-candy starts, “I love a man who knows some BIG words and is not afraid to use ‘em!” she punctuates with a growl.

It takes everything in you not to laugh at Chris’ bugged out eyes and rosy face. You think you might’ve even seen a drop of sweat form on his brow. “Oh, okay…” he says as he tries to subtly pry the woman off of him. He looks to you for salvation again, but you’re already making your way to the next piece, waving at Chris over your shoulder, “I’ll leave y’all to it,” you laugh.

——————————————————————————

The tour’s come to an end and museum goers are starting to trickle out, some staying for the cheap hors d’oeuvres that are laid out. Chris managed to get his new lady friend off of him (might or might not have taken a few minutes of hiding in the bathroom), and he’s now flicking through his pictures of the day on his phone. There’s some of you and his mom smiling nicely at one another, him taking selfies with some of the work he considers posting later to shout out the artist, and some blurry ones of you, Chris, and Lisa, taken by a shakey hand museum goer.

The pictures that stop his swift swiping are of you admiring paintings on the wall. There’s nothing particularly special about these paintings; they were in the Baroque hall outside of the featured exhibit. You however, are thee something special. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but the way you fill the frame and effortlessly draw him in is magical to him. His favorite one from the set is the one with your back to the camera. Your silhouette has become iconic to him; standing out amongst the tired and basic. Holding your own in his brain.

“Just go talk to her. It’s better— less creepy— than staring at her picture.” Chris looks to his side to find Mr. Abara walking by extremely slowly passed.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Abara. Like I said before, it’s not—“

“What’re you scared, son?”

“Um… no, it’s… it’s just not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“Not… not like that,”

Mr. Abara nods slowly. “Sure it’s not.” Chris is thinks he hears Mr. Abara mumble something about not being born yesterday, but he’s already walking in your direction at the snack table.

When he arrives, you’re picking through the repulsive options. “Why the hell would they find this acceptable to give to old people?” You mumble under your breath. “I get their on they’re way out, but—”

“Talking to ourselves, are we?” Chris speaks up, causing you to yelp and jump out of your skin. His booming laugh and your screech cause some of the older museum goers to give you to the stank eye. “Oops, might’ve given some of ‘em a heart attack.”

“Might’ve given me a heart attack!”

“I realized something,” Chris changes the subject, picking up a grape to eat.

You sigh as your heart rate comes down. “What’s that?”

“That this is the first time we’re seeing each other in the daytime and without alcohol in our systems.”

You ponder on it for a second, “Really?” you question him and he nods.

“Huh, that’s… that’s a damn shame,” you laugh a little, and he does too.

“Sure is,” he agrees, popping another grape into his mouth.

“So, how do you like me sober and in natural lighting?” You jokingly ask him, motioning down your figure for added dramatics.

He sizes you up, eyes languidly travelling up your frame. The heat rises to your face just as his gaze does. He locks in on your eyes for just as second longer than what would be deemed an innocent look before saying, “Eh, you’re alright I guess,” nonchalantly, while going for another grape.

You shake your head at him slowly, a smug smile creeping on to your lips. “You just don’t wanna give me my props, huh? Whatever.”

The two of you laugh and chat for a while while waiting for Lisa. You’re interrupted by someone calling Chris’ name in the distance. You thought it was Lisa at first, relieved that you could call it day because your stomach was growling. However when you and Chris looked in the voice’s direction, you were more interested in staying a little while longer.

“Ooooh Handsome!!” Chris’ aged admirer chirped across the room. She must’ve been looking for him because her eyes were squinted and she moved her head from left to right in search of her unrequited beau.

“He’s right—”

“Don’t you dare!” Chris chides, his firm tone fluttering your stomach just a little. “We gotta go!”

He’s panicking over a lustful lady twice his age and you’re amused greatly, but you had no time to appreciate it as Chris put his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the museum. “Wait, what about your mom?” You tried to protest.

“She’ll find her way!”

“There you are!” Chris’ Boomer bugaboo exclaims.

“Go! Go! Go!”

——————————————————————————

“Well, this is my stop!” Lisa says as you all pull up to the youth theater where she works. She turns to you in the backseat. “Thank you for joining me today! Next time I’ll leave my son at home since he thinks he can leave me in the museum.”

“Hey! You didn’t see the look in that woman’s eyes! You would’ve ran like hell, too,” Chris exclaims from the driver’s seat.

“My poor baby,” Lisa pinches his cheeks as  she facetiously dotes and Chris rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you. She pulls him close to her mouth to whisper something you can’t hear. You turn to look outside your window, your way of giving them privacy. 

“Are you threatening me, Ma?” You hear Chris humorously say.

“Threatening, mothering. Tomato, tahmato. Just do it. I’ll see you later, honey,” and with that Lisa leaves for work.

Chris drops his head, shaking it and laughing to himself.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Uh… my mom wants me to ask if you’d like to get some lunch. Since that museum food was shit and all.”

You arch a brow and contemplate the offer. You still weren’t so sure about hanging out with him solo. But I mean, I COULD eat.

Sensing your hesitation, Chris says, “It’s cool if… you don’t want to, I get it—“

“Sure,” you cut him off, unbuckling your seatbelt to climb over the front console to the passenger seat. You sit with a huff, and adjust your clothes. You looked over at him, and he’s got a look of slight disbelief. Unsure if it’s from you saying ‘yes’ or climbing into his front seat, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing…” he smiles at you. You look down at your lap, unable to meet his eyes. He lets his eyes linger on your shy form for a few seconds before clearing his throat, and asking, “So, uh, what kinda food do you want?”

“I’m down for anything.”

Chris amusedly huffs.“You women always say that, then when we men try to stick it in—“

“WOW, really?!” You swat at his arm and realize how buff he is because he didn’t even flinch. You try not to give in to your urge to laugh, but it’s hard when Chris is failing miserably and holding in his. You shouldn’t find it funny, but you kind of do. You let out a small laugh and roll your eyes at him. “You are absolutely childish.”

“No, not absolutely. I think I’ve prove to have some level of intellect today.” 

“If you’re talking about your dissertation earlier, verdicts still out on if you get a cookie.”

“S’long as there’s a trial,” he says with a heartwarming smile that you mirror. “And I was kidding, by the way, with the-- I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of pervert. You set it up for the joke, and I —”

“You don’t have to explain. I can take a joke.”

“Ok…cool.”

“Ok, cool,” you mimic him. “So what are we gonna eat?”

“You like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” you retort.

“True. Well, there’s this place, a true local staple ‘cos it’s the BEST pizza in Boston! Probably the whole world!” Gushes about this place.

“Not in the whole world!” you mock him. “Do they have vegan options?” He blinks at you. “What now?” you ask with a shrug.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re a vegan? Uggghhh!!!” Chris dramatically puts his head on the steering wheel.

You laugh at his antics. “Is that a deal breaker for you?”

He scoffs, then looks out his window, trying to avoid you seeing his cheeks turn red. You smirk to yourself knowing damn well you just made him blush. Still looking out his window at the rainy Boston day, “No real pizza place is gonna have ‘vegan options’,” he finishes with a Valley girl accent.

“First of all, it’s scary how good you are at that voice, and secondly, I beg to differ! You’ve clearly never been to Mellow Mushroom. Best pizza there is, AND there’s vegan options. I mean what did you get up to when you were in Atlanta?”

“Oh sweethaht,” he stresses his Boston accent, “you’re not ready for those stories…” he chuckles looking at you sideways through his lashes with a smirk, hoping you’d get the joke. He finds you trying to suppress a laugh, shaking your head then turning to look out the windshield, make him laugh in that mischievous way you’ve come to be fond of

“I know a place we could go to eat” you offer.

“Yeah? What kind of food?”

“Um… I don’t think I’ll tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a ‘surprise’ kind of mood.”

You put the address in his car’s built in GPS, and you guys are on your way to lunch. But just before he pulls off, he looks at you with that boyish smile of his and sparkling blue eyes. You were re-applying your lip gloss in his overhead mirror. You turned mid-gloss glide, the wand still on your bottom lip. “What now?!”

Chris' gaze lingers on your lips before he looks up to your own sparkling eyes. “Nothing…” he said though you knew it was something; your heart didn’t flutter delightfully for no reason. “Nothing at all.”

Part 7 coming soon! What’d you think?

[mochi-marie]

hey bubs ! haven’t asked for a matchup in a long time and i saw that yours were open so here i am 👀

so~ pronouns are she/her and i’m straight. brown hair, shoulder length, light brown eyes, 5’9, i don’t particularly stand out but i’m known for often wearing long trench coats and leather pants

i’m an aries and an intj, definitely an introverted but oddly enough i can be good at leading a group. i’m pretty artistic, i’ve been doing rhythmic gymnastics for the past 11 years, play the piano and on certain days i’m good at singing ig? i’m super open minded, passionate but also terribly hard on myself :)

i kinda hate physical touch but i just KNOW i’ll be touch starved w my bf so yeah 😭 my ideal relationship in 3 words : sarcastic, chill, and as cliché as it sounds ✨passionate✨ (also, i’m definitely a night owl and my ideal date would probably be spent at home tbh). love u <33

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: you don't understand how grateful i am, thanks so much lovey !! i really hope you like this, i wanna impress <3 so before i say anything, i'm sorry if i made any assumptions !! 😖 i was constantly referring back to your personality type and the other little bits of information you included ! i had fun writing this ! <3

also, if anyone thinks my writing for him sucked, please tell me and give me some tips or feedback ! :'D this is my first blog and i'm still trying to get a grasp on character personalities and how to write them, so i deeply apologize if he seems rlly ooc… <3

also my first time making a moodboard... sorry it’s bad 🥲

𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗬𝗔𝗠𝗔 𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗢

♡ . . . REASONINGS! reading over your description, personality type, and extra little pieces of information, i have determined that you are best paired with kageyama tobio, in my opinion!

looking at your appearance, i think you by looks alone would compliment kageyama very well! with your shoulder-length brown hair contrasting his dark black hair to your light brown eyes paired with his dark blue eyes! i love the contrasting i see here! also, the addition of you looking like a mysterious goddess in a trench-coat and the leather pants? i feel like your appearance alone would pique his interest!

your personality, my friend, is magnificent! i have a feeling that kageyama would appreciate someone who can be able to hold their own ( looking at what you said about being surprisingly good at leading groups ). also, i have a funny feeling that when he notices how artistic / musically inclined you are, he might try and hide his immediate interest but frankly, it's rather obvious. he's not the most subtle... <3 also, because i couldn't let this go when i was reading it over — he would adore your passion, he can understand it, especially if your passion zeros in on specific things!

he might be a bit awkward about physical affection, but if you ever initiated anything with him he would not push you away. i feel like he might be kinda shy when initiating, but he might link pinkies and play with your fingers ever now and then if he wants attention <3

okay, imagine kageyama watching you play piano and you pat the bench seat and try to teach him how to play a small little tune. a few days later you catch him at the piano, getting frustrated while continuously replaying the little tune you taught him but missing a key 🥺

𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗-𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

♡ . . . please don't @ me on this ( i just really like this idea for some reason ) but, i feel like kageyama either sleeps really early, or really late, there is no in-between. he'll either stay up late with you, or be snoring softly next to you.

♡ . . . a little ooc but i literally can't help myself — he might feel awkward or a lil' shy / embarrassed about holding your hand in public ( unless provoked / jealous ), so every now and then he might search for your hand and link your pinkies together!! 🥺

♡ . . . okay… but imagine light banter between the two of you, sarcastic and witty remarks thrown at each other like a competition. everyone else in the gym is just confused pff-

♡ . . . nervously asking you after any of his games if you thought he was good, and then yelling at hinata if he ever teased him about wanting praise.

♡ . . . sometimes going out of the way to stop and grab you something from a vending machine or from a little market / store. if you teased him, he would most definitely erupt in a small blush, maybe get a little defensive about it until you kiss his cheek or lips to shut him up <3

𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗢𝗔𝗥𝗗

𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦

♡ . . . suna rintarō, tsukishima kei, kuroo tetsurō, akaashi keiji

[combat-wombatus]

I'm Zo (Short for Zoey)

I'm fine with Male or Female, also a student, prohero, or villain is fine as well

I love to write, create graphics, & watch anime

My music taste is all over the place, so I don't really have a favorite musician

My favorite colors are Lavender, Gray, & Midnight Blue

I don't have any specific pet peeves other than cheating

My ideal date is going to a bookstore, I'm on the thicker side body wise, Hawks is my least favorite character for some reason (I don't know why), I love horror movies and creepy related stuff, I hate caffeine and don't really care for decaf coffee, I'm really shy in public, & have a shit memory

Congrats Lovely!!! You deserve every single follow you have- many more as well 🖤

🥺 thank you >.< *kith* ilysm—

i match you up with...

ojiro mashirao

he’s really a huge nerd. he doesn’t show it very often, but he LOVES manga!! and sometimes when he’s tired, he’ll put on some anime and just chill. it’s his relaxation technique, and he’s super glad that you want to join him!!

also that gif is mesmerizing lmao i’ve just been staring at it for the past 5 mins oops-

a smol drabble

“Where are we going?” You tugged at Ojiro’s hand. “I’ve never been here before.”

He smiled, his beanie flapping in the breeze.

“You’ll see.” 

You walked past row after row of storefronts and buildings draped with ivy, the late autumn wind brisk against your skin.

“This place is really pretty,” you piped up after a while. “Antique, almost.” 

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s one of the oldest towns in Japan, actually. See those shingles?” He pointed towards heavy-looking ceramic tiles that covered the expanse of wide, flat roofs. “They’re in the style of the Edo period!” He scratched his neck shyly. “In fact, if I’m not mistaken, some of them are actually from the Edo period. I think they’ve just touched them up a little bit, refinished them so they would be more durable and stuff. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some original pieces in there too.”

“Woah, that’s cool,” you stared at the roofing, something you hadn’t thought to notice before. “They don’t make shingles like these anymore, do they?”

Chuckling, Ojiro tugged you closer to him. “No, they don’t.”

You gazed at the old buildings with wonder in your eyes, failing to notice when Ojiro had stopped in front of a storefront.

“We’re here.” 

“Oh!” 

This store was...quaint. Taking up a single building width, it made the most of its storefront with trinkets and books hanging in tantalizing view behind the display windows.

A bookstore.

He knew you so well.

As he opened the door, the chimes tinkling, the calming scent of lavender filling up your nostrils, you felt your heart skip a beat.

Isn’t love a beautiful thing?

a lil moodboard

lavender: ojiro mashirao

[rckyclark-blog]

hello, angels!! i’m jess, i’m 22 & from rainy england. im a chaotic good aries sun / capricorn moon / leo rising. i study illustration at uni (soon to grad tho, woop!) support pineapple on pizza, and love bands more than i’ve loved any romantic interest i’ve ever had ( catch me selling my soul for arctic monkeys or catfish & the bottlemen... tea ) soooo now that u kno the mun a lil, without further ado, meet my trash boi ricky!! he’s a long-standing muse that i’ve revamped for this rp & i know u will love him. or hate him. or love to hate him jghfkghs

THE BASICS

ricky clark

cismale, he/him

twenty-four

major: music / contemporary & popular music

clubs: campus radio

living arrangement: ignatius house

employment: part-time at a music store off, but nearby, campus.

click here for moodboard

BACKGROUND

ricky clark is a scholarship student from hartford, connecticut. after losing his mom to heart disease at a young age, he was left to be raised by his father, who became troubled in his grief & gained violent tendencies as he grew cold and resentful.

this issue festered and festered until ricky was 14, at which point he had to join the foster system. 

financially pretty screwed & generally pretty void of all hope, all ricky could do was work as hard as he could in school so that he’d have a way out. this was a massive juxtaposition to the person he was outside of academia: a local hoodlum, trespasser, spraypaint-can-wielder, trouble-causer with a love of mischief & underage drinking. 

if that wasn’t bad enough, there was another huge obstacle – he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, let’s put it that way, so he embarked on a mission to gain scholarships for university based off of the merit of his skills as a musician. 

he was, admittedly, gifted in this particular area, and it was his only hope. where he lacked in academia, he thrived in knowing how to shred a guitar and songwrite / sing pretty amazingly. 

still, his growing rebellious tendencies clashed with the squeaky-clean reputation he needed to earn in order to be awarded scholarships. or so he thought

at age 18 he, to the shock of everyone who knew him, found himself in receipt of a scholarship to st. etienne’s. imagine that — little rough-around-the-edges ricky going off to a prestigious university..! the scholarship was definitely needed, to say the least, as there was no way he could afford the education without it. 

when he enrolls, he snatches himself a job at a nearby music shop in order to take care of everything the scholarship doesn’t cover, joins the university’s radio station team, and for a while things look like they’ve changed. he seems matured, adjusted. but it isn’t long before he’s back to his old tricks — and why not, right? he’s got the stinkin’ admission, now — all there is to do is enjoy it with no holds barred.

somewhat of a walking contradiction, ricky spends his time at university known for being trouble — nothing but a broke, borderline degenerate that got lucky — yet, at the same time, he’s fairly popular ( is it really all that shocking, though? everyone loves an asshole, right? ) as he’s a pretty likable guy once you get to know him. under all of the hardened exterior, there actually might be a few more layers. i guess you’ll have to wait and see~

PERSONALITY

basically a cocky, nightmarish little shit whose scholarship awarded to him years ago means that the sun shines out of his ass

thinks hes “better than u” because he can play electric guitar and write a few songs. dumbass indie musician energy

has probably stolen ur wallet right under ur nose during a 5 minute conversation

loud and obnoxious like literally i will pay him $50 to shut up for one second

BIG FLIRT and will probably assume u think he’s hot bc he knows he is. literally will flirt with anything w a pulse

fighty boy

bicon

tattoos. nosebleeds. the middle finger.

compare to: dally from the outsiders, kenickie from grease, billy from stranger things, nano from elite

tropes (from tvtropes.org): asshole victim, lovable rogue, emotionally tongue-tied

BASICALLY, he’s your typical bad-boy rebel type, but he feels that since he has his reasons for being an asshole, he isn’t really obliged do much in order to change or improve. he lost his mom at a young age and saw violence at the hands of his dad, so he feels like the way he acts is just a inevitable result of that & does little to grow from it.

CONNECTION TO DAISEY

ricky met daisey at a party in freshman year. drunk & out of it, they were weirdly drawn to each other despite being polar opposites. 

it was never anything romantic, with neither of them even considering anything along those lines. it was nothing more than lust-filled enticement and this was clear on both sides.

even back then, daisey had an important social reputation to uphold & didn’t even want to be seen associating with someone like him, and so they began meeting up in secret at an isolated location near campus. it wasn’t too frequent, but frequent enough that they could maybe consider themselves friends with occasional benefits, not that they’d let anyone know that.

 it was late sophomore year when somebody found out about the rendezvous location, and so the two changed things up and started hooking up in his car, which is where she found an incriminating piece of evidence of his secret right there in the glovebox. she took great joy in holding this secret over his head as education was way more of a lifeline for him than it was for someone as privileged as her.

CONNECTIONS

BEST FRIEND — (reserved for the black hole) margot sullivan

FWB — (reserved for the junkrat) jill uhhhh idk their last name yet

ROOMMATE — 1 OPEN (must live in ignatius house!)

ENEMY/IES — OPEN (if ur muse would hate him, then hmu)

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH honestly lets brainstorm

[flowerslut]

I got @thursdaynight-lights for the @twilight-secret-gift-exchange! So here you go! A lil cute aesthetic moodboard for this not-so-lil Jasper x Alice one shot! I would apologize about being unable to write short things, but that seems like a silly thing to do. I hope you like it!

Set directly after their meeting in that Philadelphia diner.

Maybe it was the thirst. Or maybe it was the unyielding apathy he’d developed over his very existence. There was a chance that it was all simply careless, irresponsible curiosity.

Most likely it was the absurdity of the entire situation.

But no matter what the reason was, Jasper still found himself following the girl, his hand still in her possession as she dragged him after her, one gloved hand gripping an umbrella, the other clinging tightly to his own, scarred one.

It didn’t look right, but Jasper kept that comment to himself as they walked.

Alice. He let his mind repeat the name over and over in his head. He had yet to speak it out loud but he was afraid he might like the way it felt falling from his mouth.

Alice.

He followed her closely for several long minutes. Along roads, down alleyways, across streets. She even stopped to let a group of human children scurry by, waiting almost a full minute after they were out of their sight before she resumed their route.

It was all so odd.

Still unaware of the reason he was even following this girl, he let his eyes take in her appearance again. Tiny, short-cropped black hair, a red dress that was a little too clean, too neat. She’d smiled widely upon sight of him, her big eyes widening, her emotions almost intoxicating as she’d skipped up to him.

And he’d done nothing. He’d stood by and let her speak, apologizing about his apparent tardiness as if he’d been aware of this strange meeting. He hadn’t fled with the realization she was a vampire like he was, or taken a defensive stance, or even tried to prevent her from speaking.

He’d just stood by and watched. Maybe that was his first mistake, because the second his eyes fell on her, he’d been entranced.

She’d tried to usher him underneath the umbrella with her but he shook his head, outright refusing to accept such a bizarre offer. It was rain. The idea of needing to be protected to any extent from the rain was ridiculous. Sure, he understood that humans needed that protection. Humans were fragile, sensitive things.

But this girl wasn’t human. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was. A vampire, most likely, but as the minutes ticked by he was growing less and less sure of that fact. He’d been certain until he’d seen her eyes. Bright golden. Unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

He wondered if it were part of an ability, or maybe a side effect of something unknown to him. He even entertained the idea that she was some type of operative, sent to track him down by Maria and either lure him back to her, or to his demise.

As he kept his eyes trained on her, watching the odd spring in her step that she walked with, her excitement pouring out of her like water through a poorly maintained dam, he found himself not quite caring whether or not this girl was going to end this day by removing his head from his shoulders.

It wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

So instead of giving into even the basest instinct to remove himself from the situation or to stop and ask questions, he simply followed her. Occasionally she’d speak, a disapproving complaint about the weather or the state of his own clothes—tattered, wet, dirty—but mostly she remained silent, her unique eyes staring straight ahead as they maneuvered through Philadelphia.

It wasn’t until a little while later, as he watched her flit around a darkened room on the upper level of a loud, poorly-maintained, human housing unit, when he seemed to come back to reality.

Alice was suddenly stressed, anxiety and nervousness rolling off of her so thickly it almost took him off guard. It was a definite change of pace from the bliss he’d been drunk off of for the past couple of hours.

One of her hands was holding onto her elbow as the other supported her chin. She tapped her foot evenly, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room, staring at the wall as she thought to herself.

As he wondered what she was thinking, he found himself wondering if she knew what he was thinking. After all, she’d known his name. If she wasn’t one of Maria’s strange finds, then he had a million questions to ask. Something told him the answers wouldn’t be what he was expecting.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

And as she spoke for the first time since they entered the room, he found his eyes quickly meeting hers. Nervous, a little bit sad. Jasper had to resist sending out a comforting wave of emotions but decided against it; he still didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

At least she wasn’t scared. That would probably be cause for him to worry. Instead, he waited for her to elaborate, trying hard not to focus on the thin walls of the apartment. Or the fact that he could hear the collective heartbeats of a family resided directly to her left…

She was by his side in an instant, but the instant she reached out to grab his hands she froze and hesitated. When she made a noise of frustration, stepping backward and out of his reach, he could only watch, stunned, as this scene unfolded before him.

She noisily flopped down onto the rickety couch pressed against the wall. It looked too... human. With quick motions she pulled her gloves off, tossing them neatly to the side. “I don’t know why I thought this would be easier.”

There was a pause. “If you don’t mind me asking,” it felt odd to speak directly to her, “but what would?”

“I don’t know how to get you to stick around,” she spoke bluntly, letting her head fall into her hands.

That was unexpected. “I’m sorry, I think I’m misunderstanding something.” He then went back to their previous, brief conversation. “You said you’d been waiting for me?”

She laughed before sighing, leaning back on the couch and meeting his gaze from across the room. “Only all my life,” she laughed again. “I know I’m not doing a great job at explaining this, but so many choices don’t lead me with the results I want. I can’t decide what to say to you to keep you here.”

He blinked at that. But before he could speak again, she was already talking.

“See, and I know that makes no sense to you. I’m sorry! The more I confuse you, the less certain everything gets.” She was standing then, pacing. “I’ve been waiting my entire life to meet you. Of course I only started looking a few years ago—you weren’t ready before—but now that I see that you’re ready I’m afraid I’ve rushed things where I should’ve waited for longer.” She huffed. “What’s a few more years when it’s already been a couple of decades? But,” she looked over at him again before looking away, suddenly very embarrassed, “I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

And when he felt a pang of loneliness he couldn’t help but act, quickly smoothing over the jagged, painful emotion with something a bit more peaceful.

Alice smiled then, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. She was still smiling when she opened her eyes. “Thank you,” her smile was almost contagious, and when he felt the corners of his mouth involuntarily twitch, he found himself shocked. Did she know about his ability?

So maybe she wasn’t a vampire or a human. Maybe she was some other being. An enchantress of some sort...

“Ugh!” She groaned again, smile falling from her face. “I’m screwing this up already!”

“Ma’am,” he interrupted softly, “I’m still not sure what you want from me.”

“Alice,” she corrected softly, still embarrassed, but a little bit sad, “please, please call me Alice,” she begged.

“Alice,” he spoke quietly, trying not to think about how the name suited her, or how he wanted to say it again and again. He also tried ignoring the spark of unbridled joy and desire that erupted from her at the noise. It was… distracting. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

“Oh no, you’re not upsetting me at all!” Potent panic. “I’m upsetting myself! I don’t want to ruin this.” She was pacing again.

“You saw me coming,” he started his words slowly, as if laying the pieces down out loud would suddenly make them more likely to interconnect and fit together, “and waited years before looking for me. You mean like,” he tapped his head, “you saw me?”

“The first thing I saw, really. After waking up at least.”

He was lost again. “Waking up?”

She clicked her tongue, “I guess it really is uncommon,” she folded her arms and stopped moving again. “I don’t remember my human life.”

A beat of silence. “At all?”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’ and rocked back on her heels. “But that’s a long story and we’ll have plenty of time to dive into that. Or,” another pause, “I hope we will.”

“Alice,” he tried hard to ignore the emotions that were radiating from her with every use of her name, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not yet,” she grumbled, “It’s still a possibility though.”

“And possibilities change with choices?” It would certainly be the first time he’d ever heard of someone possessing the ability to see, what appeared to be, glimpses of the future.

She smiled again then, her eyes trained on the wall again as she stared. “You’re starting to get it.”

“Maybe a little bit,” he admitted without confidence. “It does make sense for the future to always be changing.”

“I knew we would need to compromise on things in order for this to work but it’s only been a few hours and I still can’t figure out the best path,” her words trailed off as she stared, and Jasper had a suspicion that she really was seeing these paths. Intuitive didn’t even seem appropriate enough of a term to use to describe her.

“What is there to compromise on?” He asked carefully. If this strange psychic girl was having doubts at whatever future she was seeing, what is it that she thought would drive him away?

“I don’t drink humans.”

He eyed her carefully. “Are you not a vampire?”

“Oh, no I am! As much of a vampire as you or Maria or—”

“So you know Maria?”

Alice’s face fell by whatever she saw then, “No, I don’t know her. I mean, I’ve seen her before but only because I see you. I’ve been watching you for decades now.”

He realized he was disappointed with that slip of information. This girl knew he’d been Maria’s companion, for lack of a better term. If she’d been seeing him for decades, then she’d seen her fair share of actions of his. None of which were very favorable.

“It doesn’t matter—I mean, it does, but I don’t care—I care about you but what you’ve done doesn’t affect the way I feel.”

“You care about me?”

She paused then, and slowly approached. “Yes, Jasper,” and when she spoke his name again, a small smile gracing her lips, he found himself very focused on her mouth. “And I know that sounds impossible.”

“It is,” he commented, watching with a keen gaze as she lessened the space between them.

“You know it isn’t,” she spoke matter-of-factly, smiling up at him as she stopped, hardly a foot away from him. “You can feel it. I know you can.”

He should have stepped back then. He should have demanded to know how she knew about his ability, or what other information she had about him. She knew enough to validate her own claims, that she could somehow see glimpses of the future, but for some reason his self-preservation still hadn’t kicked in. And as she inched closer to him, he was afraid that it wouldn’t.

When her bare hand finally reached out and grabbed his, their skin touching for the first time, her barely-concealed gasp caused him to rip himself back out of his thoughts. And when he realized that she was right, he froze.

Because there it was again, the emotion he’d felt back in the diner when he’d taken her hand initially. That buzzing, hopeful glimmer. Then, contentment and happiness. Excitement and nerves were hard to ignore, but the warmth underneath was all-encompassing. And then something else. An emotion he’d only felt when he was travelling with Peter and Charlotte.

When Alice grabbed his other hand and lifted them both up, Jasper hesitated when she tried to place his hands against her cheeks.

“Please trust me,” she whispered as she pressed his slowly opening hands against her face, holding her own over top of his. “I know I’ve given you no reason to, I know this is all very strange and confusing, and I know I’m not doing a good job at explaining who I am to you but,” she paused and bit her lip, “I care about you very much, Jasper. And I would really, really like it if you stayed with me.”

“Here?” He asked, and as he inhaled, the burn in his throat was hard to ignore. Combined with the noise of the several heartbeats he could hear through the walls, he almost found himself distracted again. But Alice squeezed his hands tightly, pressing his palms against her face more firmly, and his attention flickered back to her.

“Maybe not here,” she supplied quietly, eyes losing and regaining focus quickly. “I don’t know. Just stay,” slowly she released his hands and reached up toward him, letting out a small content hum when he let her rest her hands on his shoulders, “with me. We don’t have to stay in Philadelphia. We can travel. There’s still a lot of this country I haven’t seen yet. A lot of the world I haven’t seen.”

“Travelling,” Jasper was struggling to keep his focus on her face when her hands began to move from his shoulders and she laced them behind his neck, “that’s fine.”

Her grin was bright then, “So you’ll come with me?”

He felt a bit silly as he shrugged, but there was truth in his words. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He was also fairly certain at this point that whoever—or whatever—she was, it didn’t seem like killing him was on her priority list. And it was so easy to ignore the dangers of interacting with her this closely when the emotions radiating off of her felt like a breath of air.

“Trust me,” she repeated as she unlaced her hands and slowly lowered them, once more taking his hands in her own. “I’m asking a lot, I know. But please.”

He paused, considering his options. And as he thought for several seconds, he realized his options were slim. Either he continue existing in this miserable purgatory, never ending pain and despair haunting his every step, unshakeable in its grip...

Or trust this strange, beautiful girl.

“If you don’t eat humans,” he glanced from her eyes to their joined hands and then back again, “what do you eat?”

Her eyes lost focus for a few seconds and the absolute joy and happiness warmed the room so quickly that he almost took a step back.

She smiled widely then, turning to pull him toward the door. “Let me show you.”