#foreignconstellations

[zitkaa]

#let's ditch this joint and go study some anatomy

IS THAT YOUR BABEROE TAG BECAUSE IF IT ISN'T IT DEFINITELY NEEDS TO BE NOW

[tllydunnage]

red, pink, blue, rose, purple

PANDA MY LOVE YOU ARE THE CUTEST AND SWEETEST ASDJHSAJHSA COME HERE

ALSO I LOVE YOU YOU MAKE ME SMILEE

[tllydunnage]

hi!

1. First impression: Well, I remember the first post of yours I saw was about you buying Rent: Live in Broadway so I was like WHOA YOU'RE AWESOME WE NEED TO BE FRIENDS :DDD2. Truth is: You're basically the sweetest person alive3. How old do you look: 18!4. Have you ever made me laugh: Of course!5. Have you ever made me mad: YOU WILL NEVER MAKE ME MAD6. Best feature: YOU'RE FLAWLESS I CAN'T JUST PICK ONE THING7. Have I ever had a crush on you: Not romantically haha8. You’re my: RED PANDA PRINCESS AND OTTER TWIN9. Name in my phone: Pandora10. Should you post this too? If you want to :D

[outerscout-archive]

foreignconstellations a dit : enjolras though (not that i don’t agree with everything you said because yes)

yes he was actually perfect i cried really hard (also most importantly eddie redmayne’s freckles)

[outerscout-archive]

YOU SAID ALL YOU WANTED FOR CHRISTMAS WAS SOUTHERN PREACHER JOE MAZZELLO/SOUTHERN MOB OWNER SNAFU SO I WROTE SOME MERRY CHRISTMAS

foreignconstellations:

(also yes this is vague as fuck but since i'm writing fic about one character that hasn't even been introduced yet and another one that doesn't exist i think it's understandable)

You meet him in the summer, with his shirt almost half unbuttoned in the midday heat, and he shakes his hair out of his eyes as he extends a hand for you to shake. There's something in his grip that belies a hidden strength, something in his eyes that whispers of ferocity, of ruthlessness. It makes you feel things you thought were long tucked away, buried beneath crisp white shirts and Bible verses, and as you watch a drop of sweat trickle down his collarbone you begin a silent prayer for salvation.

---

You start seeing him everywhere, after that. In the street, in the supermarket, even a few times outside the church (never inside, though, and all the things that could mean are running through your head). He’s always with someone, or talking to someone on the phone, urgent mutterings that make you wonder. But when he spots you, he’ll always pause and give you a sharp smile, and sometimes a wink, that makes the tips of your ears burn hot. The feelings are still there, and no matter how many prayers you say or how many times you read passages from your Bible, they still won’t go away.

You learn, from quick conversations in the rare moments he’s unaccompanied, that he’s new in town, come all the way fromLouisiana. You never learn what he does for a living, but you can guess, with his ruthless eyes and his whispers and the men that are always about him and the occasional glimpse of metal beneath his jacket. You think about all the stories you've heard about goings on down in Harlan, about a family called the Crowders, about the cowboy Marshall in the white hat, and you pray he doesn't end up with a bullet in his chest.

You think he looks disappointed whenever you inevitably make your excuses and escape his presence as fast as politely possible, but it’s most likely your imagination.

---

“You don’t like me much, do you?”

It’s a cloudy afternoon, and he’s managed to corner you alone after church (less people are there every day, and you wonder if it’s the Lord’s punishing you for what you feel). He’s still smiling that knife-edge smile, but his eyes are burning fiercely. You feel like Daniel in the lion’s den. “What makes you say that?”

“I'm good at reading people.” He takes a step forward. You take one back. “It’s a shame, really. I like you.”

He takes another step forward. You take another back, and the wooden wall of the church hits your back. “That’s… that’s kind of you to say.”

He leans forward, searching for something in your face, and you shrink back as far as you can, wishing for the familiar wooden walls to close around you and swallow you up. You think about the Devil, about the serpent and the apple, about all the forms temptation can take. You think about Hell, about fires burning for eternities. You think about how blue his eyes are.

His grin gets so wide you’re surprised it doesn't split his face in two. “I get it. It’s not that you don’t like me. You like me too much.”

And to that you have nothing to say, because lying is a sin but admitting the truth is unthinkable. So you do what you always do when you don’t know where to turn; you shut your eyes and pray.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not-“

He closes the distance and kisses the rest of the psalm right out of your mouth.

[tllydunnage]

hi babe~

PANDA BB I LOVE YOU

[tllydunnage]

YOU/ME BROTP

I LOVE YOU BB *tackle hug*