#tw gasoline

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷ now playing

?: Go with the whiskey, it’s your favorite.

Atlas: I see your memory is still sharp as ever.

?: Always.

Atlas: What are you doing here, Rowan?

?: That’s no way to greet an old friend. 

Atlas: I’d prefer it if you stayed away.

Rowan: What’s the fun in that?

Atlas: I’d be happier. I dunno, some kind of repose for my soul.

Rowan: Ah, see, you must be mistaken if you think I’m what’s holding you back. People like us, well, we run towards trouble if given the opportunity.

Atlas: You’re a dirty liar.

Rowan: It’s the truth. You can pretend all you want in that pretty little head of yours but eventually it’ll all come out.

Atlas: Shut up. Shut. Up. As a matter of fact, get out. Go.

Rowan: Whatever you say, bunny. Looks like you’re about to have your hands full anyway. When you’re ready to stop pretending, you know where to find me.

Atlas: [ huffs ] 

Kai: Aren’t you mature? 

Atlas: Kai, we’re not doing this here.

Kai: Honestly, the nerve you have to show your face around here is appalling. 

Atlas: I’m only here for Dan.

Kai: Really now? Does she know that?

Atlas: What are you hoping to gain from this conversation? The passive aggression is getting old. 

Kai: Oh that’s rich! Maybe I shouldn’t have to throw hints at you to be a better friend!

Atlas: Christ, it’s not like I expected you to do that! Besides, I tried to make things right.

Kai: No you didn’t. I wanted you to be there, Atlas. I wanted you to actually put in some effort for once. 

Atlas: Really? Because you made it seem like it was a lot more than that the other day. 

Kai: You’re wrong-

Atlas: [ interjects ] Actually, I’m not done. You wanna know what your problem is? You expect every single person to figure out your petty feelings. Some advice? Be honest.

Kai: About what?! God you’re such an asshole I don’t understand how I liked you for that long!

Atlas: Huh. 

Kai: I, uhm.

Atlas: Is that why you treated Taryn like that?

Kai: What? No, I wouldn’t. 

Atlas: But you did. Wow. I can't believe you.

Kai: Wait. 

Atlas: So much for your concern over her, as if you actually cared or was that all a front too?

Kai: It wasn’t! I do care!

Atlas: You don’t know the first thing about sympathy!

Kai: I-I’m sorry.

Atlas: It’s too late for that now. Tell Dan I said bye, I can’t stand being here knowing you’re around.

[angelabsol]

Do I continue to make shitposts? Yes. Yes I do.

yes the bong is a gas canister, they're huffing gasoline

comic inspired from @camiliark 's fluttershy comic.

[hyunin]

KEY | 230218 • KILLER @ MUSIC CORE

[xixisin]

I found one particular pose on pins that I REALLY want to draw as Harper and this is the outcome

@campwillowpeak

[djsherriff-responses]

The more I think on it , the more I’m convinced that if Dolph meets Pey’J in whatever afterlife situation is going on, that Pey’J is going to be a source of conflict in season two

His facial beard being almost identical to Alex’s among other similar character design elements (older men with large builds), Jade and Dolph being the ones to take care of their respective old creep, Alex and Pey’J being father figures who end up betraying the trust of someone in their care and the fact they died by gun shots to the chest on the same night

That can’t be a coincidence, right? Those similarities have to be intentional to some degree

When I first saw that confession I thought like everyone else it was just a badly written joke, and chances are it probably is, but I actually think it was foreshadowing the two having an uncomfortable plot thread in season two

It would make sense , the show is about abuse and exploitation after all

[galaxyedging]

I did a thing.

Based on the video for Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia.

TW:domestic abuse.

Cleansing Fire

It's not the bruises that hurt the most. Or the jagged cuts. Or the burst split of your skin. It's the wounds inside. The self-inflicted one's from the shame. For somehow believing you deserve this. For somehow thinking this is the price paid for love. You hid those wounds better than the cuts and scars, and no one has ever seen those. No one looks close enough at you. Until him.

Those burnt coffee eyes tell you as much. He truly sees you when he looks at you. It was striking the first time you saw him. The perfectly carved profile of his face. That strong chin and soft full lips. A face that was a luxury to behold in contrast to the dirty, cheap overalls he wore.

He was hiding just as well as you. A diamond in the rough. A smart, eloquent, beautiful soul sent down a bad path long ago. The way you gravitated towards each other each other was like something from the heavens. The pull of it stronger than any of the heavenly bodies. Except it wasn't a steady orbit. It was a consuming, decaying one. It pulled you crashing together. Lips, bodies, hearts. It crushed you together into one destructive force.

A forced that crashed through your ideas of love and split the ground below your feet open. From the crack a new, stronger ideal grew. It gave your feet purchase to stand strong and steadfast on the earth.

No. That wasn't love. Love doesn't have to hurt like that. Like you hurt me.

The new love took root. It grew towards the sun but remained in the shadows. The two of you twisted and intertwined together. Sharing, thriving, supporting. Until it reached for the sun too much and blossomed for all to see.

For him to see.

Its petals fell with each hit. The vines tore with each split of skin. It wilted and wavered under the storm of his temper. A storm that once electrified you. That made you feel alive in its wake with the petrichor in the air. Before it turned on you. To batter you with its ferocity. To slowly wear you down with each furious blow. The storm came to eclipse your sun to stop you reaching for it.

The eye of the storm gave you a reprieve. Little did you know it wasn't just the eye. It was the end of the storm. The vines around you had grown stronger. They'd risen up to protect you. To allow you to flourish in the sun.

The wildfire spread, destructive but necessary. It cleared the old and rotten. It made the air thick with it. You breathed it in, used it. With the earth clear, you were free to not only survive but to bloom. To provide protection of your own. To enrich the world that had passed you by.

[fandomchaosposts]

they played I wanna be your slave twice 🎉

[bravevolunteer]

happy father’s day it cannot be summed up in a sentence.

[100yearoldcomics]

August 2, 1922 Gasoline Alley by Frank King: "Who Spilled the Beans?"

[ID: Walt lies on the floor, doing leg lift exercises to a workout record playing in the cabinet behind him. Skeezix lies beside him, mimicking his movements. /end] Record: ♫♫ One, two. Up, down. ♫♫

[ID: Walt and Avery's wife Emily stand on the front lawn chatting. Emily carries Skeezix in her arms. /end] Walt: Emily, would you just as soon mind Skeezix while I run over to the tire shop? Emily: I certainly would. I've got some new dance records. I'll play them for him. He loves music!

[ID: Emily watches, confused, as she puts a record on and Skeezix lies flat on his back and starts doing leg lifts. /end] Emily: ?

[ID: Emily confronts a shocked and embarrassed Walt, Skeezix walking away between them. /end] Emily: 'Fess up, Walt! You're trying to reduce to music! Walt: ?

[starrydelightful07]

This was originally a JJ Maybank shitpost drawing, but I kinda just fucked around with it no idea what this ended up being but it’s kinda funky aint it

[saritaurez]

Forgetting that Trump has a cameo in an older movie is like a freaking jump scare.

[brooklynislandgirl]

what triggers does your muse have from their childhood?

Picking at Scars || -

The first time Raylan brings her roses, the scene plays like a silent horror film. He's come down from Lexington a little early, intent on surprising her thanks to the advice given to him by literally nearly everyone in his confidences. Not that Raylan isn't a romantic, he is in some deep down and possibly even antiquated ways, but while Beth has made it a priority to reclaim the garden and the house has a botanical park's worth of plants, he's never really seen her fill space with cut flowers. Her back is to him as she's doing the dishes. One of her random playlists provide a softer sort of company while she stands at the sink. Irish stew cooks away in the crock-pot, and soda bread cools on the counter. The only two things she can cook which is in itself an oddity but they do pair well and are delicious so there's that. Somehow, though, she smells the flowers wrapped up in tissue-paper and cellophane despite the melange of clean linen, supper, coffee and the salt-water and lotus candles burning throughout the lower floors. That alone might be enough to impress except...she visibly stiffens, and the mug in her hand slips out of slack fingers to clatter against the bottom of the sink. It doesn't break. "T-take dem out," she says. She doesn't call him by his name. Doesn't sweetly turn and smile, doesn't scamper into his embrace like she might otherwise do. Just the stuttered three word command. When he comes back, she's not moved except to smooth the wayward wisps of hair away from her brow. When she turns, her face is drawn. It is pale. There are faint lines at her brow and her mouth, and maybe, just maybe, there's a touch more dampness in her eyes than he's used to seeing. "Y-" he doesn't even get to finish the whole statement, not even a whole word. Her tone is brittle as the words themselves, almost unnatural as she forces them out. "I'm sorry. I should have been...less...I shouldn't have snapped. But I don't... I... don't do roses." ~*~ Of the various triggers Beth has, roses are probably the worst as they incorporate sight and smell memories. Whenever the Admiral struck his wife, he would bring her a dozen roses. Beth has associated them for as long as she remembers with violent outbursts, the sounds of weeping, growled threats, and once her mother managed to escape, with the Admiral turning his unquenchable rage onto her. Other things she doesn't particularly enjoy is power-flickering {electricity}, loud noises, shouting, etc.

[voidfell]

I literally missed fathers day but shoutout to my muses who don't have daddy issues and have good relationships with their dads and dad figures

[kiwichaeng]

okay WHY IS RAMY HERE?? DID HE FORGET THE PART WHERE I SET THE PEOPLE WHO HURT SAM ON FIRE??

[wazzuppy]

btw not wanting to drink alcohol is just like?? a normal thing??? like its normal to just not like it or not want to try it or to avoid it or be anxious abt it, and the idea that its something every adult MUST do and MUST like is very weird