#wclfmade

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wclfmade replied to your post: ❛ now you’ve rattled the monkey cage. here they...

why am i thinking zombies. too many verses. no. k no.

BUT. BUT ZOMBIES.

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wclfmade replied to your photoset: grumpybell: Bellamy Blake Owns My Ass - (1/?)

so tempted. to say. things. *slaps hand*

*whispers* Say themmmmm.

[negateswar-blog]

@wclfmade gets a response to this in thread form

     There are no words that escape worn lips in the beginning. Long torso sits, stretched in the comfortable chair on the outdoor dining set the place had decided was good enough for the money those eating here would pay. He hates it. Hates the luxuries life like this had to offer. Hates how soft they make people to the outside world. He'll never understand why people think money could buy happiness when he's seen life first hand and exactly what happiness can be. How different people can interpetate it. He draws a breath, emotions running wild in his system and he tries to take in the lapping waves as they brush over the sandy beach before drawing back, only to return. His gaze is almost as tired as his body but he doesn't talk about it. He can't put into words the things he's seen. The deaths that haunt his bones to their core. He can't breathe when the thoughts swarm like bees from their hives, ready to attack their predator. Sometimes he feels alone in a room full of people but then he looks over and sees Shiloh and he's reminded that he's not truly alone. There's someone in this world that understands his mind. Knows his heart. That knows the nightmares that track into his mind when he tries to sleep. Knows what his calloused hands have gone through and have held.

     Ocean blues move to watch the male as he stands. There's grace in every movement he makes. Anthony's tempted to follow, to drink in each movement with one of his own, but instead, he leans forward, elbows coming to rest upon bent knees as he glaces to the bottle of beer sitting upon the tabletop next to him. He's half drank it and almost half forgot about it's existence as he turns back to the man who's now leaning against the wall, smoke rising from the cigarette he's just lit and he takes in every moment that passes. He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy. If Shiloh didn't make him smile like he never thought he would. War had taken so much from him. Friends had abandoned him in his darkest moments. Family had wanted him to move on, to get better, but war brought things they'd never expect. Issues he didn't want to voice. Demons he didn't want to face. He knows his life hadn't been easy or graceful but he knows what Shiloh went through was vastly worse than anything he had survived. His eyes had seen things his mind would rather forget. His body has gone through things his bones will never let him release. It's a nightmare that he's grown comfortable in but in the darkness, there had always been a few lights. Hale. Someone he held closely to his heart. A friendship he cherished more than he could ever place into words. Bellamy. Another friend whom he was gifted through Hale. Someone who understood things the same way the other had. Hale was lucky, yes, but then Shiloh had came along and he realized, he was lucky too.

Within the spoken words, Anthony finally pushes himself from the chair he'd been placed in. He drags a breath, long and deep, into lungs as he closes what distance was separating them. It takes less than a second for a single hand to stretch out, calloused pads of fingertips coming to rest carefully upon Shiloh's jawline, thumb tracing ghost-like over the skin upon his cheek before his hand drops back at his side. Anthony had grown to know touch. To accept it. One of the many things he had to become accustomed to once he returned from battle. It was interesting to realize just how starved a person could become to such a simple action. "I'll make that promise." His voice is softer than he's realized. Edges smooth instead of jagged in his tone. His shoulders slump as he relaxes. "But the thing is, I'd be lost without ya here." He gives a single shoulder shrug, the truth blindingly visible as he speaks and he offers a small smile across light features. "Ya make me happy, Shiloh. Wouldn't trade that for tha world."

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wclfmade replied to your post: wclfmade replied to your post: ...

one day i’ll write out my werewolf lore for the masses. oNE DAY

but. I enjoy having it to myself. =P

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wclfmade replied to your post: wclfmade replied to your post: ...

pls. shiloh is a ball of emotional fuckery.

pls. Doesn’t make him any less awesome.

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wclfmade replied to your post: Oh look. A mcfucking headcanon. Let’s talk Bellamy...

WHY YOU GOTTA MAKE ME CRY BEFORE BED AND WHY I GOTTA REPLY FROM THE WRONG BLOG. feck.

jfieo;wahteioawrjewaiotheawiorjeawoi;rheiworjekawlds. higo;ahtfeioawnfeowi;agheiawohfteiwoajrewaoir;hewaoikfelwads. I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THAT. BUT IT’S TRUE AND I GOT TO THINKING MORE ABOUT IT WHEN WE WERE TALKING ABOUT THAT EARLIER AND TOUCH AND TATTOOS AND TRUST. jiof;awheioerjewioarhewaklds BECAUSE SHILOH IS AMAZING. =P