#atlsmd writes

[alltimelowsuckedmydick]

✩˚♡⋆˚hiii i'm alltimelowsuckedmydick (also abbreviated as atlsmd)!

im 27, queer, from the uk. i go by they/them.

this is the same account ive had since i was 13, so no specific theme or anything, this is just where i post/reblog stuffs, mostly;

wrestling: cm punk, aj lee, paige/saraya, mjf, drew mcintyre, rhea ripley, dean ambrose/jon moxley, ‘timeless’ toni storm, punkintyre, CMJF, joepunk, stone cold steve austin, kevin owens, the shield, sami zayn, samoa joe, +more

horror: the texas chainsaw massacre, midsommar, scream, saw, the silence of the lambs, X, get out, the exorcist, late night with the devil, trick r treat, nightmare on elm street, david dastmalchian, wes craven, stanley kubrick, tobe hooper, +more

bandom: all time low, taylor swift, fall out boy, slipknot, jimmy eat world, deftones, my chemical romance, fleetwood mac, +more

i will also get really depressing but what can you do

i also do art which you can view here! pls note i dont do requests/submissions bc i take forever to finish something lmao

i do make gifs (mostly wrestling) which you can view here! i DO take requests/submissions for gifs, pls send them here, be as accurate as possible (what to gif, where its from, etc) tysm!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ ONLY THANK YOU!

⋆☽｡thanks for reading! ☽｡⋆

[alltimelowsuckedmydick]

04/07/15 - 4:49am

Just outside the open, translucent glass is a sky of pastel rain; empty of clouds. The floor is scattered with miscallenous clothing, a crimson box of teabags, a khaki kettle with matching microwave and toaster resting on chocolate wood. Dressed in a faded shirt and equally faded boxers, a shadow taps away on the ebony keyboard, watching the slender line jerk across the ivory screen. The music drowns out any knowledge of the outside world. A sofa - created of faux leather is dressed in a skewed blanket, clothing and an onyx silk wrap hangs draped over its' arm. On top of the wooden caramel snake cage, area half empty bag of chalk sugar, empty and half full packets of biscuits earlier brought and a empty guitar stand, lonely of its' companion. A coral-and-blank checkered double duvan is resting in the corner of the flat - piled up with two springy matteresses, and decorated with restless sheets and deserted pillows. A hypersomniatic shadow is scrawled across the nest, hazel and chocolate strands spread across one pillow, a violet duvet scrunched and lobbed over his pale body. Eyes unopened in a slumber, dreams dancing behind his eyelids. Lips painted a gentle rose and circled by a prickly mess of a khaki beard. His body is decorated with scatters of blue-tinted ink - his body the canvas and the ink be the art. His pale arm is stretched across the ivory of the matteress and hand is reaching for the edge of the bed; longing for the touch of the shadow deserted and tapping away on the emerald carpet of the floor. Photographed memories stay tacked to the ivory washed walls of the room, half of one wall is un-decorated; patches of cement making up the wall instead of the chalk wallpaper. The khaki wardrobe is opened; spilling out an ocean of misgendered clothing, kit and a satin peach guitar, long abandoned.

It's 5:16am when the first peaceful chirps of birds drifts through the open window. The past translucent glass - that was littered with droplets of water have now drizzled down and of the bulletproof screen. The sky gradually turns more pastel ivory by the quarter-hour and loses its' cyan-ness. Music is still relentless through crimson headphones - and chocolate irises of the shadow relentlessly stare at the pale screen, watching the slender line continue to jerk. A yawn escapes her chalky throat and pasty slender fingers reach out from the sleeves of an oversized-ruby jumper to stab at the ebony keys of the laptop. The silver lamp is now deactivated of light and sits uselessly next to the typing shadow. The second shadow continues to slumber away in the messy nest.

[alltimelowsuckedmydick]

15/02/18 - 4:38am

I look back on old photos of us 

and I want to fucking scream because

it hurts so much that I don’t love you 

like that anymore and 

you deserve that kind of heart-attacking, swallowing kind of love 

that I had for you and I

don’t know why it’s fucking gone or why it left 

but it fucking hurts 

I want to love you like that again and have 

that burst of electric inside of me when you hug and kiss me 

I want that back so bad when I look at our photos 

and it kills me inside 

and it makes me cry my fucking stupid eyes out 

that it’s not like that anymore 

I know I’m the one that split things off but it’s 

because I can’t be with you if 

I’m not in love with you

and that fucking hurts because I see my future with you, 

in you and now we’re over 

I can’t imagine what 

the future holds because 

you were my future and everything 

just hurts and the thing 

that makes it worse is 

looking at old photos

[alltimelowsuckedmydick]

I walk around with my heart on my sleeve and my head in the clouds.

[alltimelowsuckedmydick]

Grey smoke twirls around you, a graceful ballerina. The burning cigarette rests between your nimble fingers as your jaded irises scan the scene around you. Quick flickering flames rise up from the flaming bin before you, smooth smoke drifting into the ebony night sky.

Torn and shred jeans clutch to your slender legs, black-clad leather boots rest comfortably on both feet – the bitten laces tangled together and the numb ends hanging loose. Two strangers stand opposite you - their chapped, flesh-bitten plump lips molding together, faces flushed. and Icelandic hands clutched round their heated bodies.

Your breasts are pushed up from the freshly-brought lacy bra; up and on show. Thick, luscious lipsticks smothers your lips, traces of it left on the smoldering fag in your cold hands. A whispered mutter curls around your heated ears and your head nods gently in reply.

Of course, you’re okay. With the flame-induced stick of cancer in your hand and toxic clouds of thick smoke drifting around you, with the appealing make up smudged around your hollow, lifeless eyes, darkened roots of your head and flashing breasts on show, with the safety of the ancient, eroding bridge above your head and the company of twenty lonely, wondering others just like you, you’re okay.