#written with

[corroding-time]

Your hands were absentmindedly roaming his front when he woke up. The two of you were on your side, the morning sun filtering through the windows. As he shifted and you sensed he had awoken, you got up, dressed and simply… left.

He was bewildered by your behaviour.

You were his latest favorite hookup, you topped and it was a nice switchup. It was an on and off thing, sometimes, when he didn’t go out at night. But never once did you ask about his wounds. The scars and stitches and bruises that were all over his body, fresh and old. You just fucked him and left.

All the other people he was ever with always let their curiosity get the better of them and asked. Why didn’t you? He played with the blanket, twisting it between two fingers as he thought. He knows he has more bruises than usual, yet you still didn’t notice. Or was it just that you didn’t care? Whatever. He didn’t care. Right?

-

You walked into his room after another call from him. It was always like this. Like you were something to be summoned. To be honest, you didn’t really like his high and mighty attitude. But his hole was so nice… That was the only reason you kept coming back.

Dropping your jacket on the floor, you glanced at his still form on the bed. He was laying on his stomach, lower half covered by the blanket, face away from you. Your intercourse was always silent, far from intimate. You both got what you wanted- like a transactional relationship.

When you prepped him, he tried to muffle his groans. And he made sure to face you, legs spread nice and open, always staring at you with those eyes of his. He stares at you like he’s waiting for something, watching for reactions.

Slightly irked, you purposely pressed his prostate and he closed those irritating eyes of his from the pleasure. Huffing, you pulled out your fingers, and somewhat roughly, turned him to his back. Your breath hitched when you saw it. A large bruise running across from his mid waist to hip. You traced it softly and he practically whimpered.

Smirking, you shook your head. Who knew he, the man known for his dominating and intimidating demeanor, was like this? You gently lifted his hips, it was going to be hard to do this without hurting him. You lined yourself up, squeezing his thigh as you pressed in and his rim sucked you in. Leaning down and breathing heavily, you whispered in his ear, warning him that it was going to hurt.

Thrusting in harshly, you gripped his thighs. He let out a guttural moan, biting on the sheets. You gave a few experimental thrusts and scowled. This wasn’t gonna work, you needed a better hold. You opted for his wrists that clutched the sheets, basically mounting him. His teeth left their place as he turned to you. The usually silent man stares at you in confusion.

“What are you-?” He gets cut off with another thrust. Oh yeah, this is good. He lets out a shocked moan as he squeezes his eyes shut. His mind was filled with nothing but the way you made him feel so good, how you were the perfect fit to be able to touch every inch of him. 

His jaw is slack, allowing drool to seep out of his mouth. He trembled and shivered, moaned and groaned, but he always stayed still. Completely in one place, just for you. Unfinished hey haha i forgot the plot for this oh no what to do what to do let’s just bullshit it for the rest lmao You clench your teeth to suppress your own moans, cause no way were you giving him the satisfaction of him having made you feel good.

You remember the smug look on his face the first time you had sex, loud groans leaving your mouth the entire time, the way you had come way too fast. Just the thought of that face irritated you and you sped up. What snapped you out of it was the moan he made, definitely not out of pleasure.

It was a pained one, immediately making you slow down in your relentless abuse to his hole. You almost asked him if he was okay, biting your lip to stop yourself. It wasn’t like you cared.

He slowly turned his head to you and you flinched when you realized that his eyes looked wet. Wow, that was a pretty look on him.

His face had a look of realization before a sleepy smile spread across his features. “You do care…” He mumbled. “I… knew it…” Just as you were about to deny it, his body slumped and went limp underneath you.

…Did he just faint?

-

You had finished applying the balm you brought and tidying the area up when you looked at the time. It was the dead of night. You stretched and groaned, picking up your stuff to leave. You glanced at his peaceful form, a feeling of guilt building up. You had made him faint. You tsked at yourself, his words from earlier had gotten to you. Whatever. You thought. You already vowed you wouldn’t come back to this place (even though you knew it wasn’t true, you were a weak man). You left without another glance.

[saturnniidae]

Does anyone else read the elric brothers as autistic bc like. Everything about them, but Specifically the way they latched on to and internalized the laws of alchemy so hard they were applying them to real life situations and human interactions and were lost when that wasn't working bc it's largely how they relate to and understand the world and it was literally rotting their brains

[princesswidget]

Villains who think they're the hero <3

Villains who are bad people but genuinely convinced they're doing the right thing <3

[jasper-is-autistic-old-blog]

I think I want to write a Tumblr post about aac and it's history for aac awareness month. Aac is one of my special interests. I love to talk about it but I have a bad memory so I have to research a lot. To make sure I get everything correct.

[thsdfnngslnc]

Don’t even think about it

The two of them are on top of the world, and with only a little bit more, they’ll be on the edge. No one else knows where they are. Instead, the music circulating on their veins take them away from the fact that she is with him. No one else knows that the town will forever be dripped in red starting from that night. No one else knows.

She looks at him though, as if he created the universe with his smile. Her ribcage breaks from how fast her heart beats. It is chaos to be in love with him, but she doesn’t know it yet. Tick tock — Her breathing halts  — tick tock  — after he sings her name  — tick tock  — and she thinks her whole existence will rupture —  tick tock  — with the sound of his voice. She barely hears someone screaming at the strike of midnight. And with another tick of the clock, her mind becomes a black hole.

He knows he has this effect on her, of course, and his soul rejoices with it. But does he put his lips on hers? No. Instead, he caresses her fingers slowly and softly. Then he whispers, “Like waves crashing on your shores.” He reaches for her neck, and he sucks in her smell. “Like a storm coming your way,” he continues. Then as his nose ventures from her jawline to her cheeks, he goes, “Like a gun sketching on your face.”

The night appears to be calm. Both of them appear to be calm. She appears to be calm. But —

The night feels flustered. Both of them feel aroused. She feels dizzy. And he feels victorious. He starts —

He tells her she is a treasure chest that shouldn’t be hidden from the world. So he opens her up like her insides are gold. She feels like glowing. He kisses her curves in between like knives cutting through skin. It’s a ticklish feeling, she thinks, as a satisfying warmth flows down to her stomach. He pulls her out. And if she was struggling to breathe ever since he kissed her skin, she struggles more so as her lungs die from his touch. But she still feels like glowing, as if she is the sun. She is the sun to his universe.

This time, he finally he kisses her lips as his fingers linger on her cheeks. She notes to herself that he tastes painfully delicious. He looks down on her and she blushes. She covers her heart, embarrassed that maybe he can see his own name on it. But he can see it, and so he travels in between her heartstrings, planting his teeth. He smiles at her after, and her heart stops right there. But she manages to kiss him, and she gets dizzy again. She feels him punching something, but she calls out to the universe. Her moaning harmonizes with the night’s melodies.

And then, “I’m in love with you,” comes out from her abused and wet lips as it reddens more than a red sea. “I’m in love with death,” comes out from his as he horribly presses hers together. “Then I am too,” she continues, but her words disappear with the wind’s cries.

Tick tock — There is silence, then a couple more exchange of murmured words — Tick tock.

The two of them are on top of the world, and after crawling gracefully on this starless night, she finds herself on the edge. And she falls down. No one hears her groaning as she lands on the scattered stars on the ground. No one even notices. Until everyone does. But no one knows what happened. No one.

Six hours later. Six days then. Six weeks after. No one still knows. And no one knows that someone knows. That he knows.

He remembers their last words. He remembers his heart dancing on fire. “Don’t mention it,” he says after she thanks him. He remembers her eyes bleeding and burning. “Won’t even think about it,” she says before she closes her eyes.

No one else still knows what happened that night. No one even notices his murderous eyes prying on everyone who asks him about her. Because, no one will ever admit it, but everyone is probably in love with him too. So no one else questions when he answers, “It’s suicide.”

(           k & eusie.)

[toasterdrake]

hey. if you're thinking about changing your legal name, remember you can make your new middle name 'danger'. no one can stop you. it's too late for me because i forgor like a dumbass when filling out the paperwork but you still have time

[d1gital-fawn]

i am wishing everyone caught in this hell storm a very safe night or whatever time and am hoping for your safety , please be careful and cautious and remember to have water food and flashlights if needed!