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#gasoline as feeding?
ladycrose · 6 months
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Bayonetta 3 should have been about the Lumen sages instead of the whole multiverse bullshit
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We missed the official anniversary by a few days but happy one year of scarian poisoning @corvidaearts thanks for always being my shameless enabler 😌😌😌
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shaydh · 11 months
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Anyway bought darkwood again (for the switch this time) and I think this is what the kids are talking about when they say cozy horror, in that I am cozy in bed while playing it
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centaurator · 1 year
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is it hungry? it looks so malnourished!
*feeds your mustache a cracker*
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( 4/5 )
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respiteresponse · 1 year
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You know, you are crazy but I like it. Following you is kinda like sitting too close to the fire, it's a bit too hot and you sometimes feel like your shoes are melting but fire is nice and deeply fascinating
i feel like a manic pixie dream girl right now and you are my lame nerd love interest and you just said this to me on some park swings in the middle of the night and i am deeply in love with you. lets play video games and eat pizza together ok ?
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eebie · 2 years
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Hrrnhgghygrrggh spamton
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rrivlet · 2 years
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great, now you have 14 baby forklifts to look after. how do you plan to support them on your income? you played yourself here
Shouldnt you be happy for me? Im happy for me
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ao3feed-larry · 1 year
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gasoline in your perfume
by docklands
Harry invites Louis to come over for dinner on Christmas Eve, which just happens to be Louis’ birthday. They’ve been dating for a while now, with no labels attached. In unison, they grow even closer.
Words: 2461, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: One Direction (Band)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Additional Tags: Alpha Harry Styles, Omega Louis Tomlinson, Christmas Fluff, No Smut, Harry calls Louis his prince, Scenting, courting, cooking as a love language, Model Louis Tomlinson, Creative Director Harry Styles, Pining
via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/0daAwYE
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sylvieons · 2 years
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i took my car to get fixed because i have NO pickup on it, like if I pull out in front of someone you best believe I've got the gas pedal to the floor and my car isn't moving.  finally the other day I was going up the "mountain" (we call it that here but it's literally just a hill) and i couldn't get above 13mph.
and you wanna know what's wrong with my stupid little car? it requires PREMIUM fuel.  i've been feeding it regular but nnooooooo that's not GOOD enough for this little fool, it needs to be treated to DELICACIES.
my car's name is cersei bc it's a bitch and she continues to act like she's a queen so. here we are
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icemankazansky · 2 years
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If summer storm season could just stop it because I've had a migraine I can't get rid of for like a solid month, that would be great. I don't know if it's the pain itself or the meds fucking with my serotonin or this feeling of hopelessness and helplessness, but I think it's actually triggered a depressive episode on top of it, so if all of it could just. Stop. That would really be good for me.
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golden--requiem · 2 years
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🍓 i'm tired. 🍓
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kimjunnoodle · 3 months
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these aren’t even cars to me
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Miatas are just creatures. just lil guys
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justmewondering56 · 7 months
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vaguelydcwnwards · 9 months
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TAG DUMP 2 ;;
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starscream tags
G1 STARSCREAM:
g1 starscream tag ;; all i ever wanted was the world
g1 starscream hc ;; i want to watch the world burn; i brought the gasoline
g1 starscream aes ;; jealousy fuels him and feeds him and fills him
g1 starscream ic ;; you can join the team or you can bitch and moan
--
TFP STARSCREAM:
tfp starscream tag ;; in a coat of gold or a coat of red a lion still has claws
tfp starscream hc ;; loneliness moves in him crude and black
tfp starscream aes ;; i'll bring thunder; i'll bring rain
tfp starscream ic ;; ain't nobody but your self to trust
--
EARTHSPARK STARSCREAM:
es starscream tag ;; i will not speak of your sins
es starscream hc ;; poverty comes to clip your wings
es starscream aes ;; drown out the sound of the song he once heard
es starscream ic ;; hold my hand; consign me not to darkness
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hope-drunk · 10 months
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HARVEST MOON
| a year ago, abby left you suddenly after a month long love affair. now she's back to convince you she's changed.
| cw: me writing southern accents and it's bad, talk of father death, jerry anderson is homophobic, talk of food, reader showers three times in this who knows why, f!reader, oral & fingering (r!recieving), petnames, umm that's it but like abandonment issues i guess? abby like dips hard LOL
| wc: 3.8k
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The mugginess hasn’t let up in recent days, causing your hair to look a mess, and you to have a strong urge to be naked all the time. Getting comfortable in your bed was a pain. The sheets were too hot; the pillow pushing your sticky hair onto the back of your neck. You don’t think you’ve gotten a good night's sleep in ages. The fans in your room weren’t doing much; nothing could battle this southern heat.
You were already awake before your alarm went off at 6 A.M. You quickly silence the screeching sound of the clock and roll out of bed, throwing on a loose tank top that lays on your floor. You’re instantly annoyed by the fabric but try to push it off. You stroll into your kitchen, opening the fridge and standing there for a few seconds to absorb the cold air that blows out. You grab some scraps of breakfast and eat quickly, already running a tad behind because the heat is making you move slower. 
You go to the bathroom and take off the flimsy tank top and your panties. You step in immediately and let the cold water wash over you. Your shower goes faster than you wanted it to, but you step out and dry off. You don’t bother to dry your hair, hoping that the dampness might keep you cooled off for a little bit longer. You get dressed in your usual attire, a self cut tank top made out of an old t-shirt and jean shorts.
You walk to the field behind your house, first checking on the chickens, collecting the eggs the hens dropped and making sure they have food. Then you moved to the sheep, replacing their water and giving them their feed. 
After you think the animals are situated, you begin your walk into town. It’s summer days like these where you wish you owned a car, or even a bike. But in a town this small, it always seemed useless. Everything was a five minute walk. The only thing that was further than five minutes was the gas station that sat on the edge of town near the highway, and that was only about a ten minute walk. Your journey to the grocery store feels like it takes eons. But when you open the door and the air conditioning blasts you, you think you see heaven.
“Hot one, huh?” The store clerk says to you in response to your sigh of relief.
“Tell me about it,” you say, smiling politely and walking to grab a basket.
You take your time with your shopping, swinging the green basket against your leg over and over while you scan the aisles. You spend extra long in the freezer section, and decide to treat yourself to some popsicles, you put them in the basket and let the door close by itself. You don’t notice the pair of strong arms that are crossed by the door. 
You turn away to go get your next item, “Not even gonna say hello?”
Your head whips around before your body does. You gulp at the realization of who it is.
“Popsicles, huh,” she nods to herself, grabbing the box out of your basket. “Didn’t know you liked these ones, darlin’.”
You snatch them out of her hand and throw them back into the green plastic, “You don’t know anythin’ about me, Abby.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Abby’s voice drips like southern honey, but it reminds you of gasoline. One spark from you and the town would be on fire. 
You don’t answer her, just go back to your shopping. You scan the shelves for the next thing on your list. You can see her out of the corner of your eye still following you around, but you don’t pay her any mind. It’s honestly a shame, because you were gonna spend your sweet time in the air conditioned store, and now you can’t, because Abby decided to show up.
You remember now that it was exactly a year ago today that she showed up in town before leaving a month later with no warning. She had seemed so perfect, so normal, you’d never felt like that before with anyone. You let her stay in your house. She was planning on just passing through, staying the night at the motel for the festivities then going on her way, but she told you you changed her mind. Abby told you that she wanted to stay and be with you. What a load of bullshit. 
You finish your shopping, continuing to ignore Abby as she trails behind you, in her stupid t-shirt, with her stupid muscles, and her ridiculous boots. 
“This all for y’then?” The cashier asks.
“That’ll do it.” You reply, pulling out the cash you’re using to pay. 
You take your bags and thank him, rushing towards the doors and pushing one of them open with your back. 
Abby stops at the clerk to get her brand of cigarettes; running out behind you after she pays with a crinkled up ten dollar bill.
“Hey! What’s the rush?” She says, rushing up to you. She smacks the pack of cigarettes on her palm before opening it and popping one into her mouth; swiftly lighting it with a blue lighter.
“Don’t wanna see you, Abs. Thought you would be able to figure that out.” You say, silently hoping that that will be enough for her and that she’ll turn around and never come back to your town. But Abby, ever so stubborn, continues walking next to you.
“What? You still mad about last summer? Told you I had to go.”
You scoff at her. “Yeah, then you also told me you were never gonna leave me. Wanted to help raise my chickens and sheeps. Live in my house with me. Start a life here. Look, I don’t have time for this; too goddamn hot to deal with your bullshit.”
She nods her head; takes a long drag of the almost gone cigarette. “‘Least let me carry your bags?”
That you oblige to, handing over the heavy plastic bags that you swear were getting sticky from the heat. You just wanted to be home, with your fans, and your animals; without Abby. You didn’t even want her to see the inside of your house. You didn’t want her to be in the four walls of your bedroom again; it would be painful for you. To see her in your house again, where she made you all those promises. It would be painful because now you know that all you were to her was a quick fuck and a free place to stay.
Your house comes into view and you pause in the road, motioning your hands so she’ll give you your bags back. She does reluctantly, and you can’t help but notice the droplet of sweat dripping down her large muscles. You huff away the memories, taking the bags back and walking up to your front door.
“Not even gonna invite me in? No lemonade for my hard work?” Abby asks, trying to make light of the situation.
“I seriously never want to see your face again, Abigail.” With that you open your door, slinking in and closing it behind you.
You press your back to the door once you’re inside; willing yourself not to cry about her. You’ve done enough of that; swear you could fill an ocean with your tears. You know that you shouldn’t get so worked up over something that lasted a month, but it was the first real thing you’ve ever had. It’s not like there were any other women who liked women around here, so when Abby rolled in and made you all those promises, you thought you had actually found something. You thought you would be able to start a life with her and do all the things you’ve dreamed about doing since you were a little girl. Then, she was up and gone, and you were left alone again.
It took you a while to get used to your solitude again, and you were doing a damn good job at it now. Sometimes you wonder if it was even Abby you missed, or if you just missed having someone to do everything with. You try to stop thinking about it, forcing your body off the door and into the kitchen. You slowly put all the groceries away, scared that when you finish your mind will wander. 
You do pretty good for the rest of the day. You keep yourself entertained and busy, tending to your animals and reading a book. You only think about Abby a few times, but are able to brush it off. You think you’ve got it under control; you think that her little visit didn’t affect you. Once it hits around 7 P.M. you huddle the animals into their respective cages and barns. You go back inside and take another quick cold shower. It’s hard work herding those animals, and even though the sun is getting lower, it’s not getting any less humid. You dry off and put on fresh clothes, walking out into your kitchen to prepare your dinner. 
What you don’t expect to hear is a knock at your door. You silently question it before waking up to the door swinging it open; prepared to tell off some church people who just won’t stop trying. But there she stands. Abby has a bouquet of assorted carnations and daisies, a few roses thrown into there. You cross your arms, waiting for her to speak.
“Will you please let me explain? Please? Just a few minutes and you can decide if you want me to really go or not.”
“I’m timing you.” You say, walking back into your house and sitting down on your couch.
Abby moves into your living room. She’s changed from what she wore at the store. She now has on jeans and a black cut off tank top and her same signature braid.
“I’m gonna try not to stumble over my words– been preparing for this. I loved being here with you, first of all. Leaving you was never because of you. My dad got real sick, the type where you go and say goodbye. He had been in and out of the ICU around that time, but, when I got that phone call, swear I could feel it in my bones that that was it.”
You straighten out your back. You knew a little bit about Abby’s dad. Mostly that they were very close until she came out to him.
“And I didn’t know how to tell you. Didn’t know how to tell anyone. I wish I could’ve ignored it and stayed with you but I just–” she shakes her head to herself.
“He’s your dad.”
“Yeah, he was my dad.”
The past tense makes you let out a sigh, suddenly your heart breaks for the girl all over again. You will your brain to remember what she did. You feel bad that she lost her dad, but she could’ve communicated.
“I’m sorry, Abby. But, you still had no right to leave me like you did.”
“I know, I know. I got scared. I knew if I stayed with you that– he wouldn’t see me. I could have handled it better. I had every intention of coming back sooner than now, but I felt like you wouldn’t wanna see me.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know how this is supposed to work. All I know is that everything I told you is true. I miss living here. I hate running around the country anymore. I just wanna be here with you. Herd your fucking sheep and collect the eggs. Have you make me that killer omelet that I love. I miss you, all of you. Didn’t know what I wanted a year ago, but I do know. I’d like to be with you, if you’d have me.”
You try to process all that she’s saying; try to take in the massive amount of information she’s dumped into your hands. You just stare past her, straight at the wall. Do you want her to come back? You did– a few days ago when you were crying about being lonely. You don’t want to forgive her this easily though. What? A few words and an explanation and she’s just allowed in your house again? Hell no, there’s no way in hell that she can just creep back in here. What if she leaves again? Are you gonna embarrass yourself like that all over again?
“Abby…” you trail off, unsure of what to actually say to her.
“I know. I don’t want to be the victim here, and I’m sorry if I’m making it seem that way. I just want you to know that, it really, really, wasn’t your fault.”
“Thanks for that, cowboy.” She smiles at the nickname, you do too. Her long history of speedrunning through small towns made you come up with it. “Alright, well, you can stay for dinner. But, I have the right to kick you out at any time.”
“Yes ma’am,” she says. 
You start to make her favorite meal from you with ingredients you bought today. She keeps you entertained, staying out of your way but talking your ear off. It feels normal; it feels like old times. You can’t help but let her ease her way back into your space. She takes off her boots, undoes her braid and puts it up into a bun. You ask her to get you something and she knows exactly where it is. It feels too simple. Honestly, it feels like a dream. You feel like you’re floating through this strange reality where Abby never left and you’ve kept living in this home ever since she showed up this time last year.
You eat dinner at the table in the spots you always sat in. Continuing the laughter and the fun. You don’t even mind the heat anymore. You don’t care about anything other than Abby’s gray eyes staring back into yours. You get shy under her gaze all over again. When you’re both done, you can’t get up from the table, you get too invested in your conversation and neither of you want to disrupt it. You wish you could’ve kept your stoic face on, but Abby was something else. She always has been. She’s the only one who’s ever made you feel truly comfortable with yourself, in this town. Finally, you get up and take the plate from in front of her, moving it to the sink.
“That’s not what happened, and you know it.” Abby practically yells.
“I mean, I watched you fall in the sheep shit myself. Y’trying to gaslight me, Anderson?”
“I’m not saying I didn’t fall in the shit. I’m saying that what you’re saying led me to the sheep shit is wrong. I wasn’t looking at your ass and then tripped. I was– looking at the sign on top of the barn.”
“Well, your eyes were awfully low to be looking at the top of the barn.” You shrug your shoulders with a small giggle.
Abby waves her hand in the air, a small blush on her face from the memory of the second time she came to your house. 
“I missed you a lot, y’know.” Abby says, mostly under her breath.
When you look at her, she’s looking up at you through her eyelashes. Her chest rising and falling steadily. She sits with her legs slightly spread and her elbows on her thighs. Those strong fucking thighs. You thought you could get along with her as friends; you thought that’s what she wanted– to be friends now. 
You look away from her so you don’t give in. “Abby, I don’t know if I can.” 
“I’m here. I’m here again; it’ll be good, like it was before.”
“That’s what you said before you left. ‘I’m here for you. Never gonna leave you, sweetheart. You’ll never be alone again.’ Then I was. I was the loneliest I’d ever been. I don’t blame you for leaving, Abby. But I can’t take it if you leave again.”
Abby gets up from the table and walks over to you. She towers over you, grabbing your face between her hands and forcing you to look at her. “Not gonna leave you. Ever. I learned my fucking lesson. Feel like I need you to breathe. Like my chest was tight the entire time I was out of this goddamn town. Swear, the second I pulled in, I felt my lungs fill up for the first time in a fucking year. Please, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let y’down again.”
Her chest is moving more rapidly now. It’s hard to look in her eyes. She hasn’t taken hers off of you. “I swear.”
You push your lips up so they reach hers; she sighs into the kiss, hastily taking her hands away from your face and wrapping them around your body. You push her back away from the kitchen and towards the bedroom. She doesn't break the kiss once as she walks backwards, avoiding any and all furniture; like she’s always known where everything is. In a way she has, but it’s still impressive. A whole fucking year without her in your house and she still moves swiftly around the furniture towards your bedroom. She moves like it’s built in her bones; like she’s always meant to be here.
You enter the bedroom and she breaks away only to shove your discarded clothes that lay on your bed onto the floor. You rip your shirt off in the meantime, you were going to take off your shorts too, but Abby is back on you in a second. Kissing everywhere; licking everywhere. You don’t think your heart has ever beat faster. It’s scary how well she knows you. Just like the house, she still has every part of your body memorized. She still knows the spot below your collarbones that makes your hips buck. She knows how much rubbing the outside of your thigh while she kisses you turns you on. She knows that you need the anticipation built before you go straight into fucking. Abby knows you. 
She slides down your stomach, mouthing at the skin there, you push her head down, trying to get her to take the hint that you haven’t been laid in a year and you’re worked up enough. She scoffs into you and continues kissing you. A whine escapes your mouth, and she finally moves to where you need her. You lift your hips up while she removes your shorts and panties.
She starts to rub tight circles onto your clit, eyes connected to your face; waiting for you to look back at her. You don’t. You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to overthink the situation you’ve found yourself in. With every circle on your clit your head grows fuzzier, making this feel more and more like a dream.
“Not gonna leave you.” Abby says, like she can read your mind. “Never leaving your side again. You’re gonna be fucking sick of me, angel.”
You moan; open your eyes to take her all in. All you can manage is a nod. Abby growls and takes away her hand. You go to gasp, but in seconds she’s connected her tongue to your clit. You moan now, a sound deep from your chest that blossoms like a flower fed fertilizer. You forgot how good Abby was at this. The good memories pushed to the back of your mind. You’ve only been able to focus on her leaving for so long. The only thing you think about is waking up to that empty bed. 
She grunts into your cunt, “Missed how you fucking taste. S’goddamn sweet, princess.”
She’s here now, you remind yourself. She’s here forever. You’re sure the doubt will creep in at some point. You’re sure you’ll be scared to sleep next to her for a while. But right now, this is all that matters; her tongue drawing intricate shapes into you. You push your hand on top of her head.
“Don’t leave me,” you pant out.
Abby removes her mouth and pushes two thick fingers into you, forcing your back to arch off the bed. She moves up to your face, “Y’forget how to listen, doll? Gotta train you t’be my good girl again, huh? I ain’t leaving, never again. Got that?” 
You forgot how bad her accent gets when she’s turned on. 
“Answer me, tell me I’m gettin’ through that thick skull of yours.”
“Yes, Abby. I understand.”
“There y’go, sweet thing. Just lay back and take it.”
You do as she asks, finding it easy to fall back into submission under her. Your brain is basically blank by now, only focusing on the slow pull and push of Abby’s fingers inside of you. You moan and whine and buck your hips. Not scared to be messy or annoying. You’re not scared of anything in front of Abby. She loves you, you know it. She takes you how you are. 
“Don’t think I’m gonna– last long.” You say.
“That’s alright, so pent up, ain’t you? Let it all go for me. Let it all out.” She reconnects her mouth with your cunt and you know that you’re in for.
You feel the knot get tighter and tighter in your stomach. It feels like fire is spreading across your body. You feel a bead of sweat fall from Abby’s forehead onto you, and it gets to you. She’s real; she’s back. She’s eating you out and making you cum the way only she knows how to. The small band holding your orgasm back snaps. You cum with a sob, bucking your hips into her face so your clit brushes up into her nose. You start to cry from the pressure that was built up in you that’s finally being released. Abby works you through it, lets you grind on her face and you swear you can feel her smile into you.
She comes up to lay beside you when you finally stop twitching; shushing you when she removes her fingers.
“Missed seein’ you like that.”
“Bet you did,” you say, voice hoarse.
“Missed seein’ you in general, but the way you look when you cum, man. Ain’t nothing like it.”
You suddenly feel embarrassed by the crude talk, you roll over away from her and face your closet. She whispers a few sorry’s before using her arms to roll you back over and pull you into her chest. She kisses the top of your head. 
“It’s so hot I might die.” You say into her, tracing a shape on her chest.
“Wanna shower?” 
“Don’t gotta ask me twice.”
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dyeher · 4 months
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Still thinking about your Osamu drabble where reader called him crying bc her pants wouldn't fit, and he was trying to pay attention to her and not how her thighs looked 🫣 (I think about it daily)
“Samu,” you sniffle through the phone. “They don’t fit.”
Osamu’s locked himself in his back office, a reflexive action whenever you call while he’s at work because you never call while he’s at work.
“Sweetheart?” he props his phone on the stand you got him for Christmas and sits back in his chair. “What doesn’t fit?”
“My jeans, ‘Samu,” there’s shuffling as you position the phone in a way that gives him full view of your top half. He frowns at the puffiness of your eyes, obviously you’re genuinely upset about this. He’s determined to figure out what’s got his princess so upset and fix it.
That’s what he tells himself before you make a cute little hop backward and it gives him a full view of the jeans that won’t fit and why. Your thighs are too big. The waist is stuck half way up the delicious fatty area that he spends afternoons with his face buried in, prohibited from going further by the fact that the fat is spilling over the top.
Osamu forgets for one horrible second that this is something you’re apparently not okay with as he groans. He almost asks you to turn around so he can see the back. You misinterpret this sound of distress as something negative. After he scrambles to explain to you that you should just get new jeans he realizes he’s only digging himself a deeper grave. Osamu decides he can’t console you from his tiny office at the back room of Onigiri Miya so he goes home.
He kisses every inch of your body, whispers reassurance and affirmation, fucks the soft, plush thighs that he loves. That he sponsors with every new dish he tries out on you. That he is entirely responsible for with the way he constantly feeds you, dotes on you. His life revolves around food, and it makes him feel a little guilty that he’s dragged you into orbit with him.
He burns the jeans, dramatically douses the offending material in gasoline and sets it on fire in his backyard and then makes you your favorite dessert from scratch. He ends the day like he always does? With his face buried in your thighs and your fingers carding through his hair.
sending you kisses baby!
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