#guiltyasdave darling

[moonlight-prose]

hey hi hello <3 obviously i neeeed to ask about the next right where you left me chapter, i love that series so much! and maybeeee i could get some crumbs of the other worst!logan wip as well? 🥹

hello babes!! i just saw your reblog on chapter four and it's got me screaming. i am so so happy you liked it!!

chapter five is literally porn without any plot. it's the beach episode of this fic. they're fucking all over the apartment, they're getting cum in places it really shouldn't be.

logan is a horny 200 year old man and he's found the love of his life in a different universe. of course he's gonna blow her back out as often as possible.

fall on me like night is a thought bubble rn. for anyone who has been on this blog long enough they know my obsession with bartenders. so reader is that and logan is well stuck in his own world. where everyone hates the wolverine.

expect maybe the pretty thing behind the bar who finishes fights before he can stumble off the stool. and maybe he's a little smitten when he gets dragged to their house for something more.

wip game!

[beardedjoel]

5k! wow! i can't believe there are so many of you here. granted, i've had this blog a long time so some followers may be a vestige from many years ago. i've gained so many since i started posted my writing here so i still wanted to celebrate any and all of you!

i reached this milestone right around the same time that i wanted to do something to celebrate one year of smother, so i figured let's smush them together into one fun party! thank you for being here and for all the love. i love you all and appreciate every interaction, every comment, and the friends i have made along the way!

to celebrate, let's fill my inbox! from 11/14 to 11/21, i'll be accepting asks for all the following prompts:

🌹 writing prompts — send me a prompt from these lists and i’ll write a fictlet: one | two. all will be written for joel miller since he's really the only character i feel super comfortable writing for. you may suggest one of my fic universes for it to take place in, and i will try my best to make it fit!

🌲 smother celebration — in honor of marking one year since i posted the story, ask me or share anything you want about it! headcanons/lore, director's commentary on a certain part/chapter, or even a tiny mini prompt for me to write a blurb for joel and blossom.

💌 ask me anything! send in an fmk, would you rather, or just shout some nonsense at me.

🍄 ask game — send in a question from this list! make sure to specify it's from the writer's ask game since some emojis may overlap with these ones!

🌸 moodboards — send in a vibe/color/scenario (or maybe even related to one of your fics if you give me a synopsis!) and pedro character and i'll make a mini moodboard for it!

many of these requests take time, especially the writing ones. i promise i will do my best to get to them even if it takes a while! it'll be a good test to see if i can write anything short for once in my life 🤪

tagging some people that i love and enjoy seeing around my dash ❤️ i’m so happy to have you here!

@huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @darling-reverie @tightjeansjavi @burntheedges @guiltyasdave @joelstummy @encasedinobsidian @perotovar @mermaidgirl30 @pedrospatch @cavillscurls @sawymredfox @evolnoomym @ovaryacted @moonlitbirdie @pedropeach @punkette1026 @strang3lov3 @wintrwinchestr @pattwtf @whxtedreams @taeslarityy @penvisions @romanarose @justagalwhowrites @dancingtotuyo @murder-wife @covetyou @mrsmando @yxtkiwiyxt @jolapeno @shaunasflannel @kedsandtubesocks @mountainsandmayhem @eupheme @joelsdagger @joelsgreenflannel @kiwisbell @hauntedhowlett @gasolinerainbowpuddles @futuraa-free @daydreamingmiller @jobean12-blog @skittlesfics @noxturnalnymph @chronically-ghosted @shivispunk @hotgirlbedtimescenarios

i tried to tag as many people as i could think of before i hit the post limit 💓

[jennaispunk]

Like the Rain

Summary: Frankie has something to say....will you listen?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count:2.9k

Rating: M

Warnings/Tags: fluff, spice (I won't call it smut. I will leave the smut to all you wonderful people who write it so much better than I ever could), oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up), unresolved feelings, idiots in love, maybe a hint of angst. This is slightly AU: Frankie has a baby but the lady is long gone. Reader has hair long enough to stick to her face and is shorter than Frankie but no other physical description is given. Yes, I gave my darling Francisco a middle name (sorry not sorry). If I forgot anything please let me know.

A/N: This fic was supposed to be for @guiltyasdave 1.5k follower celebration but life (among other things) got in the way and it took me forever to finish this (I'm so sorry Jana!). My prompt was Frankie and kisses in the rain. This fic put me through the ringer and I hope y'all enjoy it.

Thank you: @fallingforthearch for listening to me scream and cry about this fic. @sawymredfox for being my sounding board and calming my fears about certain parts of this fic ILY bestie!!!. @pascalispretty for looking over the final product for me.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Frankie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his truck, beating out an uneven rhythm matching his impatience. He’d been parked outside your house for the last thirty minutes, waiting for you to get home from work. He knew he shouldn’t be here; you’d all but asked him for space, but he couldn’t do that. The last three days had been torture, not being able to talk to you or touch you. He should have just gone straight home after work, showered, and thought this through. His heart had won out over his mind in the end, and now he waited.

The radio weather report droned on in the background, warning of the thunderstorms entering the area. The dark grey clouds looming in the distance matched his mood. He’d been so stupid. He should have just been honest about how he felt, and this wouldn’t be happening right now. Instead, he’d let his fear of not being good enough for you win out over how much he loved you.  

Thunder rolled softly in the distance, almost like a deep laughter mocking him.  Would you even talk to him? Would you even let him tell you how incredibly sorry he was for hurting you? His stomach flipped as your car finally pulled into your driveway. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to face you and speak his truth. 

Today had been a long day for you and you didn’t even notice Frankie’s truck parked in the road in front of your house. Your eyes flicked skyward as the shadow of the clouds crossed over you. It had been hot and dry for weeks, with barely a cloud to mar the brilliant blue of the Florida skies. The precipitation was long overdue. Even with your diligent watering, the lawn was taking on the hue of a sickly Victorian child, and the sparse vegetation lining the front of your little home was left looking a little pitiful. You took a deep breath, taking the sweet, pungent aroma into your lungs. All you wanted was to shower, curl up on the couch, and lose yourself in wine and a good book while the storms washed away your pain.

You hadn’t meant to confess your love like you did. It wasn’t supposed to be blurted out in the heat of the moment. You’d wanted to wait for the perfect time, for the moment when everything was just right. But your mouth got ahead of your brain, and before you knew it, the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips, and everything changed. 

You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you uttered those three little words. It was like the entire world had stopped spinning on its axis. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you, dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape like you were speaking Wookie. Your heart sank like a stone to the bottom of a lake.  Tears pricked at your eyes like a thousand tiny needles, and you ran from his apartment before he could see them fall. 

You thought he felt the same way about you, but he didn't say it back. It hurt worse than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get away fast enough. You’d spend the last few days wondering what you’d done wrong, how you’d misread everything.

“Hey!” Frankie called out as he jogged up the path.

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice. It was the last one you expected to hear. You take a deep breath before turning around to face him. 

“What are you doing here, Frankie?” You ask flatly but the break in your voice gives you away.

He swallowed hard, his brown puppy dog eyes staring back at you. His lips twitch in that familiar way; the way they always do when he was working up the nerve to say something or when he was really concentrating, and your heart fluttered in your chest.

“I….I was hoping we could talk…. about the other night.”

 You scoffed lightly. That’s all you’ve thought about since it happened. That scene replayed in your head on an endless loop like a song stuck on repeat.

Your teeth ground together; the muscles of your jaw strained with the effort. “I’m not sure what else there is to say about it…. I told you that I loved you, and you couldn’t say it back. I think that says it all.”

Tears start to sting at your eyes, and you quickly turned away. The last thing you need right now is for him to see you cry. 

“Junebug, please.” 

He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Watching you hide your tears from him broke his heart. He’d sworn he would never make you cry, and here he was doing it once again.

“Say what you need to say, Frankie.”

 You kept your back to him. You couldn’t bear to look at him. Your teeth clamp down on the inside of your cheek.

“Can you at least look at me?” He pleaded. He needed you to listen, to let him tell you why he did what he did.

That moment was permanently seared into his brain. He would never forget the way your face fell when he didn’t respond to you. He wanted to say it back. God, he wanted to say it more than anything. He even practiced how he would say those words to you at the perfect moment in his bathroom mirror.

 You were the best thing that ever happened to him. He was at his lowest when you met. You were like a ray of sunshine when all he saw were dark clouds. You’d made him feel good again, like he wasn’t a failure. But he couldn’t make himself say it. He was shocked into silence because he didn’t think that you were there yet, and your sudden confession had caught him off guard. All those fears of being a failure had stolen his voice and he watched you run out of his life. He’d been a mess ever since. 

You hugged yourself tightly and reluctantly turned around. Your eyes glanced up at the sky, watching the mass of grey clouds inching ever closer.

Frankie lifted his hat and dragged his hand through his hair. His chest rose and fell in an uneven pattern, and he licked his lips. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He had to get the words out.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He told you. “I never meant to hurt you; I swear. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

“Well, you did!”

The tears you were trying so hard to hold inside were threatening to fall and you swallowed hard, clamping your eyes closed.

Frankie’s hand jutted out to grab yours, but he stopped just short of touching you. Maybe now wasn’t the best time. He sighed heavily and pushed his cap up, smoothing his hair before replacing it. The pained look in his eyes said it all. He knew he was an idiot. He just couldn’t say what you needed to hear.

“Babe…. I’m sorry I couldn’t say the words. I was scared.”

Your eyes snapped open. The crease between your brows deepening.

“Scared….” You asked softly. “Scared of what?”

The toe of his work boot scuffed the cement sidewalk as the thunder rumbled in the distance. His eyes darkened as his past mistakes ran through his mind….. South America….the drugs…Marisa and his little girl. He’d messed up so many things in his life.

“I’m not good enough for you.” He murmured. “You deserve so much better than me.”

Your eyes went wide. That’s what this was all about? You knew about his past but hadn’t realized how deeply it affected him.  Now you could see how much he’d kept it inside.

“Francisco José Morales! How can you even to think that?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you studied him.

“You are the best man I know. You’re sweet and kind. You treat me like a princess. How could I possibly do better than that?”

A crooked grin broke out on his face. Why was it that you always knew what to say? You always had a knack for bringing him out of his darkness.

Rain drops began falling, peppering the cement with little dark splotches. Goosebumps prickled your skin as the cool drops ran down your face.

“I love you….so damn much. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

 The ache in voice was palpable as the rain picked up steam, cold and wet as it soaked you both.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you. Your body pressed against him, and you crushed your lips to his. You kissed him hard, with all the love you had. You needed him to understand that he was all you ever wanted…you couldn’t live your life without him.

He stood frozen for a moment.  That was the last thing he expected you to do. His shock was quickly forgotten as his body responded, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer and kissing you back with equal intensity.

Your mouths mashed together, teeth clacking, both desperately trying to devour each other. His fingers tangled in your soaked hair, gripping it tightly and keeping your mouth pressed against his. 

You moaned into his mouth as his other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, pulling you tightly against the growing bulge in his khakis.

You were both oblivious to the rain pouring down on you, desperately groping and kissing each other like two horny teenagers in plain view of your neighbors.

The deafening crack of thunder combined with the bright flash of lightning was the only thing strong enough to separate you.

You both stared at each other, panting, the rain dripping off your lashes and the bill of Frankie’s ever present Standard Oil trucker hat.

“We…should go inside…” you murmured.

Frankie was on you once again when the door closed behind you. His soft tongue slid between your lips; his large hands worked at the buttons of your soaked blouse.

You grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him toward your bedroom. Your limbs tangled as you both fight to get the other’s wet clothing off, bumping into walls and bumping heads. 

Frankie tripped as he struggled to get his pants off. You giggled as he hopped on one leg and his shoulder banged into the hallway wall with a loud thud.

“You think that’s funny, Junebug? Just wait 'til I get you on that bed.”

You both fell into bed together, your wet hair soaking your sheets. Frankie descended on you, the weight of him pressing you firmly into the mattress.

He just stared down at you for a moment like he was trying to memorize your features. He smoothed the damp hair that had been stuck to your face as he lowered his face to yours, taking your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

His mouth worked against yours slowly, his tongue parting your lips to let him in. His tongue filled your mouth with slow, languid thrusts.

His hands snaked down your naked body toward your panties and his mouth followed, leaving open mouthed kisses on your chin, down your neck and over the slope of your breasts. He stopped for a moment, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue around the sensitive nub until it became a stiffened peak. You arched your back into him as he lavished the same attention to your other nipple. The ache between your legs grew stronger and you felt the desire pooling there, soaking your panties.

A low chuckle escaped Frankie’s lips as his mouth continued to move lower, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them down to bare you to him completely.

“Hermosa.” His voice was hushed, floating to your ears like the sweetest song.

God, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. To him, there wasn’t a more perfect creature in this world. His heart hammered in his chest as he wondered what he ever did to deserve you. You’d been by his side through everything. You’d seen him at his best and at his worst.

 His eyes trailed down the curve of your breasts, down to the apex of your thighs, to the treasure that awaited him there that was reserved for only him. He dipped his head between your thighs, and he ate you like a man savoring his last meal. There was no time for teasing today, he had to show you just how much he loved you.

A breathy moan escaped your mouth. His lips and tongue moved in tandem, a rhythm he’d perfected that would always drive you insane. Your fingers tangled in his damp, brown curls as Frankie’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs. A hungry growl from his lips made you buck your hips into him. His tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves until you cried out his name like a prayer and came on his tongue.

Those gorgeous mocha eyes peered up at you, a satisfied smirk on his lush lips covered in your slick. A trail of sloppy kisses led him back to your mouth, his arm hooking your leg over his elbow; damn near pressing your knee to your chest. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned softly into his mouth, hooking your other leg around his waist.

You would never get tired of hearing the way he groaned softly as he slid his cock inside you. Your walls stretched for him, enveloping him with your warmth. No one could split you open like him.

Frankie pressed his forehead against yours as he found his rhythm. He could live here, inside you. It felt like your body was made just for him, like a key finding its lock.

His hips began to move faster, his thrusts more urgent as you both panted against each others' mouths. He would never get enough of you. The way you felt was like heaven to him, a heaven he didn’t feel like he deserved but he would never let you go again.

No one could ever make you feel as good as Frankie. He knew your body almost better than you did. The tension began to build in your stomach and your legs began to tremble. Frankie’s large hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you down onto him even further, making you mewl loudly and arch your back into him.

He knew exactly what this meant. You were close, and he was going to get you there. His thrusts became sloppier, but I less powerful, still hitting the spot that only he could reach.

“Come on, querida.” He pants, almost desperately. The bed creaked as he pounded into you.

  “Dámelo….dámelo…..please…one more…I want to watch you come.” His eyes are fixed on you, his pupils blown, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Whatever invisible force holding you together suddenly vanished, and you saw white. Your mind is only filled with one thing…him.  You clung to him as your walls fluttered around him, whimpering his name.  He followed you a few thrusts later and spilled into you with a strangled grunt.

Your eyes finally regained focus as you both came down from your high. He looked just as wrecked as you felt…his brown curls were a mess, and his lips parted as he panted.

He pulled you close as he rolled onto his back, resting your head on his chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

His voice was rough and breathless. A satisfied hum left your lips as his fingers gently caressed your arm. You knew you would be a little sore in the morning, but it was worth it to have him in your bed again.

“Yeah. I’m okay, baby.”

A comfortable silence filled the room as you listened to the sounds of your breathing mixed with the patter of rain against your bedroom window. Your eyes closed as the gentle thrum of Frankie’s heart pulsed against your cheek. This is what you always wanted. This is where you were meant to be. You were content to lay here forever…until you saw his soaked khakis in a heap in your bedroom doorway.

“I’ll be right back.” You disentangled yourself from his arms, but his hand flew out to stop you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” his brow arched, and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

Your head swiveled around to look at him with a crooked grin.

“Our clothes are soaked. I was going to throw them in the dryer.”

His eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe you were worried about the clothes. You weren’t going to need them any time soon, not if he could help it.

“Don’t worry about the clothes, Junebug. They can wait.”

Of course, the clothes could wait. They weren’t important, but it wasn’t in your nature to not worry about the little things.

His chest tightened as you crawled back into his arms. The feeling of completeness washed over him like the rain pouring outside.

Maybe it was an omen that it finally started to rain after all these weeks of drought. Maybe the rain was the universe’s way of washing away the hurt and past mistakes, making way for growth and a new beginning for you both. This was a chance to begin again, and he was going to spend every day making sure he didn’t blow it. He was going to give you the life you deserved.

[luxurychristmaspudding]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

goooooooood evening my lovelies.

you’ve caught me on a not-very-hot-girl string of days - sweaty and tired, trying to sort my classroom before the school year starts, and i have a tummy ache.

the horrors persist, but so do we, friends.

thank you ever so much for my tags, darlings @for-a-longlongtime @penvisions @whocaresstillthelouvre @ace-turned-confused @magpiepills

@thelightsandtheroses @thetriumphantpanda @sawymredfox @evolnoomym @guiltyasdave

i have not one, but two half-way (probs less) there things to show you like gemstones in a gift shop (@toomanytookas this time I promise not to put them in my mouth 👀)

‘God - motherfuckin’ - shit.’ Joel snorts at you. ‘You kiss your mother with that mouth?’ You flip him off as you slam the door closed. ‘Yeah. Suck your dick with it, too.’ His lips quirk, watching as you stand with your hip against the front of the car; a box in one hand, the other shielding your eyes from the sun. You watch his smirk grow, feeling the trickle of sweat down your spine. ‘There a reason why you’re here?’ You roll your eyes, like it should be obvious. ‘Freezer’s fucked,’ you huff, holding the brightly coloured cardboard up for him to see. ‘Can I put them in yours?’ ‘Popsicles?’ Joel frowns. You pout, and he can feel his already weak resolve dissolving. ‘Please, Joel. They’re literally the only thing keeping me sane.’

(proceeds to get railed)

and completely unrelated:

np tags to these lovely peeps: @pascalssbabyy @covetyou @schnarfer @jolapeno @goodwithcheese

@yopossum @yxtkiwiyxt @dancingtotuyo @sixhours @joelsgreys

[moonlight-prose]

lilac, fern & french rose <3

and if we kissed to break the tension i think we'd fall in love babes.😘🖤

[moonlight-prose]

right where you left me? <3

my darling! i already answered about this but i will drop a small snippet of the next chapter + some bonus info that won't make it in the series.

right where you left me

a big part of this series that i would have loved to touch on more is the small moments shared between logan and honey that didn't get added into the mix. how they didn't just all of a sudden fall in love but it was slow. well slow enough for a superhero who is 200 years old.

the title (while dedicated to fortuna for a massive part) still sticks in the chapter we're heading into. logan leaving forces honey to mirror their variant mutant self in this way. they're the ones now saying "i'm right here don't forget to come back because i'm right where you left me behind."

some of the chapter will be below the cut

You don't sleep anymore.

This wasn't due to a lack of exhaustion - you were always tired - you simply couldn't bear to withstand the dreams longer than necessary. They filled your head with their brutality. Ripped apart your psyche in such a short time frame, only to leave you split open and bleeding for the buzzards and vultures to pick at. You were surprised Wade never commented on how you resembled a walking corpse day after day.

Walking amongst the living as your soul was claimed by the dead.

Nightmares quickly became your waking reality. A piece of what Logan left behind had burrowed in your chest, settling deeper than you could ever reach. But that remained the horrid truth. You didn't want to get rid of it - you couldn't fathom the thought for longer than a few seconds. The remedies given by Wade, Laura, Ness, were all flimsy bandaids that you stripped off when they weren't looking - hoping that the darkness within would eventually consume you whole.

What existed in your mind - in the very depths of your heart - were all you had left of the man who disappeared without a trace.

[moonlight-prose]

wip wednesday!

note: thank you my darlings @eupheme & @guiltyasdave!! i've got way too many fics i'm hammering away at. but i'll share a snippet from an old man logan one i was working on last night.

the vastness between all that can be seen

"Whiskey on the rocks," you said, voice soft and sweet and Logan felt his cock twitch hard. Shame leaked into his stomach, dropping to the bottom like lead at the base of the ocean.

He rapped two fingers on the bar, pushing his drink forward as the bartender slid a similar crystal glass in your direction. The burn of your stare was obvious. Logan practically flinched as you trailed your eyes down his body, stopping to ogle the side of his face. And if he was a younger man he'd already be smiling.

Hell, if he was a younger man he'd already be fucking you in the bar of the bathroom. Stuffing his fingers in your mouth to gag the pretty little sounds he knew you would make for him.

But two hundred years left him weary at the thought of garnering your attention.

He felt the urge to snap at you. Ask you to kindly fuck off and find someone else. There was no doubt a number of other men who would happily nip at your heels for a sliver of your attention.

Logan wasn't sure why that thought burned the inside of his chest - his claws itching to slide free even in their sluggish state. But he locked it away in the back of his mind, fearful of the answer that his heart would give him.

Much to his surprise, you downed the whiskey in your glass in one go. Dropping it to the bar with a small cough that had his lips curving - his finger tapping the side of his own drink. He hadn't even gotten a good look at you and he could already feel his heart begin to stir in his chest. Causing a ruckus in his body strong enough to leave him winded.

"I'd ask if you come here often, but that might be cheesy." Fuck you sounded like sunshine on a warm spring day. Logan bit down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from groaning - his body aching for him to stop being so goddamn stubborn.

"I'm here with some friends."

He met your kindness with a wall of silence. Entirely unaware that your stubbornness would soon be the start of his downfall.

You grinned, propping your chin in your hand. "And I happened to notice you."

Maybe if he got up and left you'd get the fucking hint to keep away from men like him. Men who's minds were mangled and torn apart. Men who would only leave you tear stained and bruised after a night of harsh fucking. Men who couldn't give you what you were so clearly looking for.

tagging the lovelies: @ovaryacted @sunflowersteves @superhoeva @cavillscurls @joelsgoldrush @pennyserenade

[moonlight-prose]

wip wednesday!

tagged by: @guiltyasdave @avocado-writing @stargirlfics @eupheme thank you for the tags last week/today darlings! i finally have a little something to share.

i haven't started on right where you left me ch7 yet but i'm working on a logan series for october. it's spooky & deals with death in an interesting way. anyways enjoy the sneak peak!

pick your poison: atropa belladonna

The forest is silent save for the rhythmic thump of an axe against wood. Life doesn't exist in the small sphere of dead branches and fallen leaves. No bugs, no birds. The wolves hunt elsewhere; the prey have all but abandoned a place where death permeates the air.

What was nature to do when someone so unnatural had been laid to rest?

He knew he was too far from the predetermined area. The yellow tape was marked for trees ready to chopped down. But the sound of the men laughing about some bar they found had set his teeth on edge - a rush of anger from deep in his chest now resurfacing quicker than he liked. Some days were better than others. Some days he could join in on the laughter, make simple conversation, pretend to be normal.

Other days he felt the clawing urge to bite and snap and dig his claws into flesh rear in his head. On those days he preferred to be alone. Away from humanity, separate from what they wanted from him.

They saw him as a man. Not an animal. That should be enough to appease his restless spirit; give him some peace after so much chaos.

His teeth ground together in his clenched mouth, sweat sticking to the back of his neck despite the cold weather. The axe felt like an extension of his arms. Hacking away at the base of a tree he knew would make enough noise to draw attention once it tipped. That didn't deter him from repeating his swing. From baring his teeth and growling through it in order to dig out what calm he could.

The blade wedged itself halfway into the bark before he heard it. The stifled scream of a woman. His body went stiff, head whipping around to see if someone had followed him. The instincts from before - when he was once a soldier - began to overtake his senses as another muffled scream pierced his eardrums.

tagging the lovelies: @sunflowersteves @rae-gar-targaryen @ovaryacted @superhoeva @wlwloverwrites @agirllovespancakes

[moonlight-prose]

wip wednesday!

thank you for the tag @guiltyasdave darling! so this week has consumed me with my series rwylm, but i don't have enough written to put here today. so will pull from my other little series i've been hammering away at featuring joel miller and old man logan and lots of romance.

a case of you

Peace.

A subjective five letter word that once held no meaning to you.

When the world fell to the flames of hell and nature became the thing humanity battled, you found that holding onto small semblances of the past were what you abandoned first. There was no need for small joys. No time to make sure that you were feeding the good parts in your life; you'd grown accustomed to the bad.

What you may have deemed normal suddenly became soul consuming - a bitter awakening that ripped away any slivers of serenity you had left.

You fell victim to the constant fear. The baseline state of your being was no longer about harnessing hope, but of fighting off the darkness that ebbed into the center of your heart. The terror that ate away at your soul. Your body cannibalized itself, gnawed at emotions you would never have again, devoured the light that once existed in your eyes, and spit out the bitter anger that remained.

Life held no perpetual vow of peace.

It only offered a bitter ending served on a silver tarnished platter covered in rot.

The days were endless. Nights bled into the early morning dew that offered a welcome reprieve. Only for the nightmare to keep going. You weren't meant to be saved - none of humanity was - and the belief of one day making it out of this horror show alive soon melded into despair.

Shitty burnt coffee filled each corner and shadowy expanse of the house as you tugged on the worn (slightly frayed) denim jacket you found abandoned in an apartment building four years ago. The scent of decay would never leave the thick fabric, but you started to think of it as a trophy. Something to remember all the years you fought to survive, all the time spent clawing your way back to some version of humanity.

Jackson existed to give people a chance.

tagging: @ovaryacted @eupheme @cavillscurls @elflutter @superhoeva + whoever wants to do this!

[moonlight-prose]

this or that!

thank you for the tag @jen-with-a-pen darling! it was very hard to choose so i bolded both for many.

coffee or tea || early bird or night owl || chocolate or vanilla || spring or fall || silver or gold || pop or alternative || freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks || mountains or fields || thunder or lightning || egyptian mythology or greek mythology || ivory or scarlet || flute or lyre || opal or diamond || butterflies or honeybees || macarons or eclairs || typewritten or handwritten || secret garden or secret library || rooftop or balcony || spicy or mild || opera or ballet || london or paris || vincent van gogh or claude monet || denim or leather || potions or spells || ocean or desert || mermaids or sirens || masquerade ball or cocktail party

tagging the lovelies: @soulores @sunflowersteves @karasong @superhoeva @ovaryacted @guiltyasdave @eupheme