cinderella dressed in yellow

I want to see what NSFW headcanons you have for my character. Go on anon if you’d like. Be as graphic or as vague as you want. If I like it, I’ll accept it.

“Buuuullshit,” Rick muttered under his breath, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll right out the back of his head. His elbow bonded with the arm; his index finger met his temple. “That’s an outright lie if I ever heard one.” His tongue snaked along his top lip as he slipped off his sheriff’s jacket, a white short sleeve shirt keeping him warm in the light Georgia wind. “I made it from King County to Atlanta to here, and let me tell you, it wasn’t no cake walk. New York to Georgia. How was it for ya, Rella?”

     "georgia?” the word seemed foreign to her in that moment, she had no idea where she’d been going all this time. No wonder he’d never seen her group, the cavalcade of survivors that were each completely different from each other. god, she missed warren. she paused, her eyes closing briefly, “i actually got as far as salt lake city, thought i was going the right way and... apparently got lost.” she tried not to laugh, but when she did it was one of hopelessness, “honestly? hell. i had a family, and i threw it away because i thought i’d be safe. i... i made a bunch of mistakes.”

Rick pursed his lips as he rubbed his eyes. “Mmhm,” he grunted. “I know you do.” His eyes gazed out from under his neatly trimmed eyebrows as he held out the bottle to her. “It’s dry as hell but it’s pretty high content wise. C’mon. We gotta talk. Seems like the world over, I’ve protected you as best I could and left with y’knowing more ‘bout me than I know about you.”

Addison had been nursing that bottle of whiskey for a long time, it had finally diminished by the time he got there and at the offering... Well, she didn't say no. She took the bottle, her fingertips ghosting over his, before bringing the opening to her lips. It was no Merlot, but it did the trick, and she took a long swig. "Wha'd'ya wanna know?" She inquired with a shrug, "Not much to tell. I had a group, they're gone, I'm here."

Who in your OTP asks the weird questions in the middle of the night and who hits the other in the face with a pillow

send me a * and an url and my muse will talk about that muse whilst drunk