#coke machine glow

[theburialofstrawberries]

Jackie says she was bullied as a fat kid and learned "how to fight back;" she goes crazy in Vegas when she hallucinates someone calling her fat. I think there's a direct line connecting this with Jackie's fight instinct to Lou constantly reiterating that Jackie killed J.J., and Lou locking Jackie inside the house. Over the payphone, Jackie's foster mother, curt: "Stay away from us, you monster." Lou doesn't know she is treating Jackie like a monster. Jackie can't have that feeling. Perhaps that's why she needs to run away to Vegas and win so bad: to disarm her size and her strength, to have those qualities be unimpeachable, only for show and admiration.

Jackie in turn is tripping all of Lou's wires. We know Lou thinks her mother ran away, and fears that Lou Sr. maybe killed her. But Lou Sr. goads her about an even deeper fear: that Lou's mom ran away not only to get away from her husband, but also to get away from her awful, complicit daughter. (Lou is so terrified this is true that she has red nightmares about it all movie long. When she's more afraid, there's more red on the screen, like the glow from the hospital's Coke vending machine when Lou Sr. confronts her about J.J.'s body.) If Jackie's response to being perceived as a monster is to fight, Lou's is to take flight: exit the situation for fear of abandonment. She comes close to doing this in the confrontation with Jackie after dinner with J.J. and Beth (a confrontation aborted only because of the lingering F.B.I. agent), but J.J.'s murder flings the shit into the fan.

Lou does everything in her power to cover up J.J.'s murder, and then Daisy's, so that Jackie doesn't leave her. But everything Lou does reminds Jackie that she's a monster (Daisy naked, victorious, whispering: "Lou doesn't want you anymore"). When Lou frees Jackie from her binds in the shed, Jackie takes off running, so caustic is the effect of this reminder ("I wish I never met you!") We know she's not running away for fear that Lou will kill her, because Jackie only really calms down when Lou convinces her that 1) she still desires Jackie, and (2) Jackie is not morally culpable for the murders of J.J. and Daisy. She was forced, for fear of Beth's life, for fear of Lou Sr. (Lou in her recounting was also forced to sleep with Daisy. Everyone is only ever forced to do bad things; no one is ever a bad person. Convenient!)

Lou has freed Jackie from several mental hang-ups. So Jackie joyfully reclaims her size and strength and breaks a guy's arms as easy as wringing a wet t-shirt. And Lou is now more aware of Jackie's inner turmoil than she was before. In the last scene, when she slips quietly out of the truck to kill Daisy, she is loathe to disturb Jackie's sleep, yes, and also her conscience.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

- out of my league -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Hecate! Reader

Based on - out of my league

An - im having the worst fucking migraines ever

You silently closed your window. “Ready?” You smiled over at clarisse who quietly nodded. Both of you wearing warm clothing as it was getting cold out.

“Got the money?” She asked adjusting the spear that was on her back. “Yup!” Confirming the previous question by holding up your wallet. “Common Let’s get going before we’re caught” you chuckled grabbing clarisses arm leading her into the woods.

You and clarisse had been friends for a few years. Both arriving at camp and being claimed around the same time you both grew close. In most scenarios ares kids didn’t really hang out with minor kids Espically the Hecate group, but that never stopped you both.

Clarisse liked you. She knew she did, she always had. You were the complete opposite of her, kind calm considerate.. that’s what made you both the perfect pair.

For the past few weeks clarisse had been trying to ask you out on a date. From trying to get you to go on a walk with her after the bonfire to picking strawberries with her. every time the idea came though up she was never able to actually ask the question.

What she didn’t expect was for you to ask her on a mid night run to a gas station a mile down the road. Clarisse quickly agreed and now found herself here

Reaching the edge of the camp you chuckled some. “Ready” you smiled, Walking out the camp border.

Taking a deep sigh clarisse stepped through the border and followed you down the road.

——

The walk there was entertaining. Clarisse getting threatened by the smallest of noises think they were a monster thus making you laugh.

Deciding to play 21 questions, the daughter of ares took a minute to think of her final question for you. “All right uh.. Why do you like the night so much” she shrugged her shoulders

“Really that’s your question” You laughed, however taking note of clarisses serious face you rolled your eyes. “I guess the reason why I like the night so much is because nyx and Hecate used the darkness as a way to help viel women and witches who were running away so they wouldn’t be caught.. it’s comforting in a way especially after I ran away” you smiled while shrugging your shoulders. Before clarisse could respond You changed the topic at hand

“Oh! There it is” you happily smiled grabbing clarisses Hand without realizing it leading her inside he glowing seven eleven.

Almost immediately you made your way down to the slushy machine. “Here try it” You handed the coke flavored drink over. The daughter of ares looked suspicious but took a sip of the drink. “Only shit”

“I know!”

Being at camp since you were barley 10 it made you learn to appreciate the smaller things in life. Walking towards the back of the store You took an elaborate pair of shades off the rack“How do these sunglasses Look on me”

“Like an idiot”

“Rude”

“You wanted me to be honest”

Rolling your eyes dramatically you set the glasses onto clarisse smiling as they made her look equally as dumb. “There now we’re both idiots” both of your faces were close, if either of you leaned forward your would be kissing. Gently patting her cheeks you walked away down yet another isle trying to ignore your burning cheeks.

——

Now walking up to the counter with an assortment of candies, chips, two slushies, multiple sodas and three hotdogs you payed the fee and walked out with clarisse following in suit.

Looking over you saw the normally strong guard girl smiling as she ate her hotdog. “Oh is clarisse smiling?” You teased.

“Shut up” she chuckled gently bumping her hip into yours. “Only if you tell me what’s got you in a good mood”

After some back and forth clarisse eventually agreed. “When I was younger My mom like you know she was in the army, when we were moving around the country and going to school to school my mom would stop at gas-stations and get me some comfort foods one being a Hot Dog” she sarcastically admitted. You hummed happily looking down at your long finished snack. “When we’re older and leave camp the first thing I wanna do is meet your mom”

It was like the world stopped for clarisse.. you.. you wanted to meet her mom. “Why that’s stupid”

“Not Everything is stupid clarisse, and not everything has to have some elaborate reason.” Giving her a playful dirty look you chuckled as she gently shoved you.

—

Growing closer to the boarder of camp halfblood, your slushys long discarded and half the bag of food eaten you decided to run ahead some. However one you entered the general forest area near camp you stepped in the wrong spot at the wrong moment.

Almost immediately you were tackled to the ground with a monster one you couldn’t identity in the dark towering over you, the gross slobber is dripping down your face you tried to push it off with no avail.

The next thing you heard was clarisse screaming as she stabbed the monster. “Don’t fucking touch her!” She yelled. You were trying to collect your breath as the wind was knocked out of you. Standing up some you balanced on clarisse, watching the monster disgenerate you looked up worried.

“Shit Are You ok” she quickly questioned grabbing your face, taking off her jacket she started to clean the slobber and blood off of your face. “I’m fine, hey look see I’m not bleeding it was probably just a hound sniffing around.. I’ll be ok” you grabbed the nervous girls wrist while trying to help her calm down.

Clarisse Just nodded in response. “Let’s get back to camp” she sighed, grabbing the two plastic bags off the ground she held your hand, refusing to let it go until you were inside the border.

——

Once at the Hermes cabin clarisse helped you silently open the window. Climbing inside you groaned, after the attack you had pulled a muscle in your back.

“It still hurts” she asked worried. Nodding you gave her a forgetful frown. Watching as she started to walk away you decided to tease her some. “Where are you going?”

“Bed. It’s 3am”

“So you’re really leaving without a goodbye kiss?”

“And Why would i do That” she stopped, turning around with a currious look “Because you like me” you quickly responded with a charming smile.

“I- I do not I don’t know where—“

“Yes you do. And it’s ok because I like you to”

Her shocked expression made you laugh once again, muttered a small spell you pulled the girl back over to the window. Leaning down out you kissed her softly. Clarisses arms were tied down to her side with your spell, but you found it amusing how she still tried her best to kiss you back.

Pulling away you undid the spell and finger waved at clarisse while closing the window. “Wait! YN you can’t do—!”

“Goodnight clarisse” You sarcastically teased blowing her a kiss before completely shutting the window

“Yn!!” She finally yelled.. clarisse rubbed her eyes, what the hell was she going to do with you.

Clarisse - So We’re dating

Y/n - yes

Clarisse - ok.. im ok with that

Y/n - *raising an eyebrow* everything ok clarisse

Clarisse - *standing with a hand over her mouth and looking down critically* yup

——

[subbypeterparker]

Plssss can u do a hazel x reader Christmas themed fic? I’ve been dying for some holiday spirit hazel and I think she’d be super cute during the holidays ☺️☺️☺️

getting into the spirit

Hazel spins around, admiring every part of your guys’ small shared apartment, as she finishes adding the final touch: strings of lush green (fake) plants around the small stairwell railings.

“what do you think babe? i think we did a pretty good job,” she’s standing with her hands on her hips, huge smile across her lips while she looks at you expectantly.

you’re lying down on a pile of christmas pillows she’s been meaning to put up, but that have just been sitting on your small couch. you have to admit it, your apartment is the cutest right now.

the mistletoe on the doorway to the kitchen, where she’s been so happy to kiss you every morning. the small christmas trees she’s put up on nearly every flat surface, the splashes of green lighting up every room. the lights that twinkle while strung from the walls, whose lights cast comfortable shadows on everything.

then there’s the tree. that adorable christmas tree you bought, when she stood in the lot, admiring all the trees, before finding the perfect one for you both. best of all are the decorations. a million gifts under the tree, and the bright colourful lights hung everywhere, creating a glow that lights up the entire floor.

the ornaments are the cutest, all second hand, and clearly very old and loved. there’s photo ornaments scattered everywhere, with photos of you and Hazel, you as a kid, Hazel as an awkward emo tween, photos of your cat Mochi, everything.

you stand up and walk towards her, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her in for a kiss. Hazels hands drop to hold your cheeks softly, smiling against your lips.

“honey I think it’s amazing, it looks beautiful,” you’re gushing but how could you not? this is your first christmas while living together. of course she’s going to do it up.

“okay so i have a few plans for tonight and tomorrow morning!” she’s practically jumping up and down, like a child on Christmas.

“lay them on me Hazel,” you peck her nose, egging her on.

“alright so tonight we have to watch a christmas movie. im thinking home alone or elf, you pick! we have to wear the pajamas Isabel got us, the ones with the reindeer, and then tomorrow morning we open gifts with Mochi!”

her eyes are lighting up the more she rambles, and you can’t help yourself from leaning in to hug her, smiling against your neck.

“i’ll go start the movie, you get the snacks,” you hum, pressing a lazy kiss to her neck.

she kisses your cheek, lightly pushing you away from you with a squeeze of your hand before she darts off to the kitchen. you sigh happily, picking up the DVDs. hmmmm, Home Alone or Elf?

she bounds back into the living room a moment later, just as you’re pushing the Elf DVD into the machine, pushing the okay button. you turn around and grin, seeing her snack choice.

“alright let’s see…popcorn, sugar cookies, coke, whipped cream….are we just eating straight whipped cream?” you tilt your head to look at her questioningly.

Hazel shrugs, dumping the giant supply of snack in her hands onto the couch. “i mean, we can always find another way to eat it if you want,” she grins, hands circling your waist, drawing you in closer.

“oh don’t you even mention that, this time i’d actually like to watch the movie we pick,” you laugh, pushing her away from you.

“hey, if you change your mind, let me know,” she’s walking up the stairs laughing, no doubt getting you guys’d pajamas (and maybe thinking of the last time you both got your hands on whipped cream.

you smile to yourself at your girlfriend’s antics, occupying yourself with putting the collection of food she brought onto the coffee table, ready for you both to feast on. she comes back bounding into the room, pajamas in one arm, and Mochi in the other, looking slightly displeased at the matching pajamas Hazel seems to have stuck him in.

“ohh Hazel, he looks miserable,” you laugh. your poor cat looks so grumpy, but you both know he doesn’t mind the clothes, he just hates having his fat manhandled into pjs.

“yeahhhh but he looks so cuddly, plus he’s matching us!” she kisses your lips, softly dripping Mochi onto the couch, where he promptly loafs into a ball on an armrest.

you both change into the pjs, throwing your clothes onto the floor, a problem for tomorrow, and settle onto the couch. Hazels lying on her back, tilted slightly to be a better pillow for you, who has taken to resting your head on her tits, stroking her arm that’s currently drawing small circles in your back. her lips are pressed against your head, laughing along to the movie when you aren’t stuffing your faces full of the cheapest christmas food you could find.

“so, scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this Christmas?” she mumbles into your hair, laughing at whatever Buddy is up to on screen.

“this is absolutely a 10/10, i can’t imagine a better Christmas,” you smile softly up at you, tearing your eyes away from the movie to stare at her.

“you should wait until next christmas, i promise i’ll make it even better,” she leans down to kiss you deeply, playing with your hair slightly.

“i don’t doubt it Hazel,” you whisper against her lips, the both of you smiling at the the thought of celebrating another Christmas together.

who knows? maybe by next Christmas you guys might both have rings…🤭

—

an: merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and happy holidays to those that don’t!! I hope everyone is having an an amazing end of the year, and that you’re all happy and healthy and enjoying the holidays!! 🫶🫶🫶

[literaila]

could you write something super domestic, like peter and reader baking together or something similar

i lauv ur writing btw

drive through

a/n: not what you were looking for i’m sure but it’s the only thing that struck a cord blah

*

“a number three” you whisper, leaning across the console to squint at the menu. “with… a coke.”

peter repeats your order, much louder than you might’ve thought possible, then opens his mouth, but not before—

“oh and one of those ice cream things”

he raises his eyebrow and turns to you. “a shake?”

“no, peter. that thingy you got last time with, like, the syrup and the—“

“you want a sundae?”

“i know what a sundae is.” you roll your eyes, but nod anyway.

peter quickly apologizes to the person unfortunate enough to be taking your order. “what size, bub?”

“how big are they?”

he holds two hands a couple of inches apart while shaking his head. “you want the same as what i got? it was medium.”

“okay.”

“and a medium sundae,” peter repeats. he waits a beat, and you watch him scratch his jaw while his eyes dart across the illuminated menu. “and then can i also get a number 6 combo, with extra sauce and a rootbeer?”

he looks over to you, then back to the speaker. “and can i add a large fry to that?”

a muffled voice answers pleasantly, naming the total and asking for his name, and then he’s driving you away from the speaker and you punch him in the shoulder.

“you’re not going to eat all that!”

peter frowns, his eyes darting towards you. “uh, yes i am.”

“no you’re not. we just ate, like, two hours ago.”

“i’ll share.”

you laugh. “with me?”

peter scoffs, and he’s finally stopped, so he looks at you with big brown eyes and glowing cheeks. “no. with larry a few doors down.”

“oh, i see how it is. you think larry’s going to let you be the little spoon?”

“for at least three minutes. before he puts on his c-pap machine and starts snoring.”

“that’s better than giving me some of your fries?”

peter pokes you in the shoulder. “better than being used as a space heater all night.”

“i don’t use you!”

“then how come i’m constantly pushing your cold feet off of my thighs?”

you cross your eyes. “maybe because someone likes to give death hugs in his sleep.”

peter’s mouth opens then closes. “i. do. not.”

you laugh at him. “yes you do—you hold on to me and when i tell you to let me go you just say ‘i won’t let you fall, i’m not’—“

“um. 17.46?”

both you and peter turn to look at the girl staring at the two of you with wide eyes.

peter coughs. “yeah, of course, let me just—“ me scrambled through the center console, dropping multiple things in your lap before grabbing his wallet. “just get my card, here.”

he hands it to the girl giving her a wide smile like he’s been waiting all day for this opportunity.

and when she’s gone, he turns to you with accusing eyes.

“what? i didn’t do anything.”

he leans closer to you. “they’re going to spit in our food.”

“the outside antibodies will probably be good for larry.”

and then peter laughs and pulls forward. but not before you give him a kiss on the cheek.

*

[liesandnights]

That strange feeling of longing when you are at a train station, in a 24/7 open market, when you are buying a coke from the vending machine, watching the city lights glow from your window, when you’re walking aimlessly on a busy street after 5 pm, that feeling as if something is missing in your life and it will never come back although it was never there in the first place; that inexplicable urban sadness.

[angelkissiies]

deep end

abby anderson x reader

cw : lifeguard!abby , lifeguard!reader , au , smut , pwp kinda , oral ( r ! receiving ) , literally so much but i can’t remember !! porn !! a lot of porn !!

wc : 2.5K

a / n : product of way too much caffeine and self criticism, be gentle — im just getting back into this !!

The nylon clung uncomfortably to your skin as you followed the railing up the pool stairs, hesitating for a second before the last step as you let the water drip off back into the general population. Late June had never been so slow, the final hours ticking by in year increments in comparison to the usual haste that came with the hazy heat. 

“What time is it?” You huffed slightly, sitting down on the edge of the bench as you used a towel to pat down your legs, eyes cast up towards the man as he squinted tiredly at his watch. 

Manny perked up, tapping the plastic of his watch as he looked down at you. “Last rotation of the night, we are free, hermana.” He joked, nodding towards the side exit to the break room. “Accompany me to the vending machine?” 

A choked laugh fell from your mouth as you shook your head, “Absolutely not, I’m all good on Diet Coke and Cheetos for now, thanks though.” You spoke, glancing over to where Abby was sitting. “I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” You felt the man take his leave, the defense he’d been providing from the sun disappearing down the concrete as you pulled yourself off of the bench. 

The blonde was seated at her post, eyes lost in the shadow of her visor, making you chuckle lightly as you watched her shift in the chair– her muscles catching your attention as they tensed and relaxed in the brute of the sun, sweat dripping down her calves. You shook your head slightly, willing your attention to her now-waving hands as she zeroed in on you. If there was one thing you could be sure of, it was the sudden dizziness that entered your mind as your feet led you to where she sat, sliding gingerly past patrons chatting amongst themselves. 

“Sorry, excuse me, Darlin’,” A male voice called out, accompanied by a sudden grip on your waist– spinning you back to face him, his touch lingering at the seam of your swimsuit– just above where your skin met the nylon. “God, you are even prettier up close.” 

You could feel her eyes burning holes into the back of your head, the feeling sending a chill down your spine as you took a small step back– a lump arising in your throat, a faux smile pulling at your lips. 

You sighed as you stripped the swimsuit from your body, the straps leaving thin indentions in your shoulders as you let it fall haphazardly onto the tile. The steam had begun rolling off the shower walls as you settled under the stream of scalding water, letting it wash the day off. It had been a tense half hour, most of it spent hovering around the break room as the guards on deck handled the flocking of patrons– your focus being on creating a distance between yourself and Abby, the weight of her gaze following you during your mindless pacing. Her eyes didn’t leave you, steely blue glowing hot in the haze of the setting sun, making you the first to dodge her b-line for the changing rooms. It took longer than you were willing to admit to brave the mosaic tile and poorly clouded shower doors– yet here you found yourself, leaning back slightly onto the slat walls, a chill running down your spine at the contrast. 

“Fuck.” You groaned, bringing your hands up to rub the water from your face, mind full. Of course, it had to be Abby sitting there. Of course, she held her tongue. And of course, you were here– reading into this a little too much. She held her tongue because it didn’t concern her, she had no reason to be upset. She had no reason to say anything– he was just a guy. Just a guy who had a little too much confidence. 

Though, you couldn’t shake the look she gave you. You couldn’t see past the way her eyes were glued to his wandering hands as he made the mistake of touching you, the incident ending as quickly as it began– as there was nothing you hated more than a man without a clue about consent. She just seemed so, unnerved. You’d brushed it off, originally, chalking it up to her mutual disgust with the male species but– as your mind settled on the hard-line driven into her gaze, things began to make less sense. 

The obnoxious ‘thwack’ of the shower room door snapped you out of your thoughts, making you jump lightly– considering you were under the impression that everyone else had already taken off. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your arm moving to cover your chest. “Hello?” You squeaked out, rubbing some of the condensation from the glass door to peek out. 

“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?”

You felt your heart stop, eyes widening as you took a step back from the glass. “Wha–,” You paused, hearing her footsteps grow nearer. “I’m not avoiding you, Abs, I-I have no reason to.” The clouded door felt a little more exposing as you began to make out her shadow encroaching upon your stall, your heart shuddering in your chest at the thought of being caught so exposed. 

Abby snorted, pushing her now crimped hair from her face as she let her fingers drag across the glass pane– streaking through the steam. “Yeah right, you’re the worst liar– you know that right?” Her voice was heavy as she halted, eyes settling on the outline of your still figure, a shaky breath falling from her lips. “Are you... okay?” 

“I’m fine, yeah, I’ve gotten used to dudes like that.” You responded, a nervous laugh permitting the sudden silence as you felt the air grow heavy– from steam or tension alike, making you take a tiny breath in. “Are.. you okay?” You pressed slightly, squeezing your arm tighter over your chest as your eyes lingered on the door handle, something urging you to push it open– to bridge the tense gap separating the two of you. 

The blonde sucked a breath in, hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to fight off the growing pit of anticipation in her stomach. After all this time, this would be her breaking point? It was almost laughable, considering how hard she’d tried to keep professional with you. She was your manager for fucks sake, she couldn’t allow herself to have you– not in the ways she wanted. “Yeah,” Her voice broke, making her mentally smack herself as she shook her head absentmindedly. “Fuck,” She sighed, eyes settling on the door handle– and in turn a heat settling into her stomach, taking the place of the former. 

“Abby–,” You began, being cut off by the harsh contrast of cold air rushing into the stall, a tiny gasp leaving your throat as your eyes landed on Abby– her gaze wild and full of desperation as she pushed forward, wasting no time in pulling your nude body into her, catching your lips in a rough kiss. 

A sharp hiss left her mouth at the connection of the scalding water to her back, the heat soaking into the taut nylon of her uniform, making her push further into the shower– the door coming closed behind her, sealing the two of you together in the space, only enough room for her arms to come to rest by your head– caging you against the wall. “Fuck, tell me to stop.” She whined, a hand coming down to lift your chin, eyes connecting with your own in a gesture of relinquished control. “Tell me.” 

You shook your head, already craving the feeling of her lips on yours once more, eyes silently pleading as she peered down at you. “Please,” You whispered, breath trembling, “don’t stop, please, don’t.” You managed, hand coming to the nape of her neck– pulling her back down to meet your lips once more, this time in a messy clash of teeth and flesh. 

Abby relaxed into you, her free hand moving to the valley of your chest– trailing over the erect buds, rolling one between her fingers to elicit a sharp whine from you into her mouth. Her hair had begun to soak through, the honey strands creating a curtain between you and the water as she pulled back to press chaste kisses to your jaw. “I’ve wanted you for so long, you have no idea.” She panted between kisses, her tongue trailing over the skin of your neck before she began sucking dark marks onto the soft flesh. 

An airy whine left your mouth as her teeth nipped at your sweet spot, your nails digging into her shoulders as she continued her assault on your neck. “No, no–,” You began, chest heaving at the adrenaline that had entered your bloodstream, thighs squeezing together to dull the growing ache that had begun in your cunt. “I have, fuck, a pretty good idea.” You attested, feeling her pull away for a moment to admire her work. “Wanted you this whole time, Abs.” 

The woman felt her chest tighten, eyes darkening with a primal lust as she eased herself away from you, hands following the curve of your body as she lowered herself down into the enclosed space. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

Abby felt her knees hit the tile, hands coming to a stop at your hips. “I’m giving us what we've both been needing.” She cast her eyes upward, coming to connect with your blown ones, a hand navigating to the soft flesh of your stomach as she eased you back to rest against the wall. “Let me take care of you, hm?” 

You found yourself nodding before you’d even realized, the cold slat distracting you momentarily before you felt Abby’s hot breath fanning across your thigh– plush lips coming to place gentle kisses to the skin, her hand detaching from your stomach to push your thighs apart. “O-okay, okay.” You muttered to yourself, feeling the girl begin working her way up to your drooling cunt. 

Her lips lingered as she spared you another glance, smirking slightly at the way your mouth had fallen open– mindlessly taking every scrap of pleasure she’d been giving you. The realization of the situation began to set in, her grip on your hip tightening. “Relax for me, doll.” She grunted, wasting no time before dipping into the space between your thighs, her tongue drawing a stripe up your unsuspecting cunt– making your knees weaken around her. 

“God, oh–,” You gasped, moving a hand to the surrounding wall to steady yourself, thighs threatening to close around her head at the sudden stimulation– the feeling sending a chill down your spine as you tried to keep your hips still. 

Abby hummed in contentment, gathering the pooled wetness on her tongue as she traced your slit– nose nudging the bundle of nerves with every slight movement. The taste of you making her inhibitions fade to nothing but desperate attempts to bury herself in you– tongue swirling around your clit before bringing it between her lips. 

Your hand shot to her hair, hips chasing her mouth as your fingers twisted in her golden locks, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your lips parted to allow vulgar moans to slip into the humid air. “Abby, Abby, Abby..” You whimpered, each harsh suck from her earning a tightening of your grip– her strands wound tightly in your fist as you pushed her impossibly close. 

The blonde groaned into your mound, the sharp tugs sending a pathetic wetness into her own cunt, her free hand coming to push past her own influence– thick digits gently tracing the outline of your slit. They probed past, easing into your plush walls, sinking themselves inch by inch into your heat. Her mouth detached from you, chest heaving as she caught her breath, letting out an audible moan at how you squeezed her fingers– mind heavy as she imagined how you’d take her strap. “Jesus, you’re so tight.” She breathed, dipping back down to press open-mouthed kisses to your clit. “And so fucking pretty.” 

A tiny whine fell from your lips as your face began to burn, clenching around her fingers as you attempted to grind your hips down to gain the friction you craved. “I’m,” You shuddered as her fingers scissored inside of you, making you tremble in her grasp, the fullness of your cunt sending a pang of panic into your chest. “Not gonna, can’t–” 

A small ‘tsk’ slipped from her mouth as she shook her head slightly, “You can, just gotta work you out a little, that’s all.” She hummed, her tongue darting out to kitten lick your clit, fingers slowly pulling out of your contracting walls before she worked them back in– easing you open for her. “Good girl, just relax for me, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Fuck, oh fuck, okay.” You managed, broken whimpers leaving your throat as she worked her fingers deeper into your soft cunt, a borderline pornographic moan ripping from your throat as she curled her fingers into the spongey spot, not even your best sex toys had been able to reach, your knees buckling as she used her free hand to hold you in place. 

Abby made a small noise of triumph before beginning to thrust her fingers, feeling the gathered slick begin to drip down the expanse of her palm. She focused her attention back on the swollen bundle of nerves, drawing rough circles around it with her tongue as she scissored her fingers in-between thrusts. The noises her movements drew from you only urged her on, her rhythm becoming sloppy and desperate with every harsh cry of her name, her mind slowly slipping from its collected goal to the pure need to make you cum– the need to have you writhing on her fingers. 

Your mind fell blank, the feeling too much to cope with as she continued her assault on your cunt, pathetic pleas falling from your lips as you felt the growing heat in your stomach wind into a tightness– one you couldn’t fathom as her thick fingers abused your walls. “Mmph, Ab-Abby, ‘M gonna–,” You squeaked, free hand moving to grab her freckled shoulder, nails digging roughly into the flesh. 

“Give it to me, doll, c’mon.” She coaxed, curling her fingers, pulling away to look up at your flushed face– ignoring the obviously cooled water as it continued to spout from the shower head. 

Your walls contracted, squeezing her digits impossibly tight– slowing her movements to an immediate stop as your legs trembled around her. You could feel the indentions of the slat from how limp you’d gone against it burning as your back arched off of the wall, the tightness snapping– sending a rush of white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. The air was knocked from your lungs, leaving you to pant wildly as you settled back onto the wall– your entire body trembling under the weight of your orgasm. 

“That was–,” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want to–?” 

“My place or yours?”

[candiedspit]

GRB 080319B 

For a month, I was a smudge. 

A mute monk in the bathtub, lukewarm water running as dull colors rolled around my head like fractured, aged marbles. Thoughts lost strength before fruition. I called out of work once a week, faked a cough, a car accident, another funeral. When I did make the drive out to the office, I spent most of the time typing a word, deleting the word, and typing the word again. I stopped taking calls. Mary left me beautiful voice messages. I listened to them while I laid on the couch, sprawled out like an active disease, furious tears streaming down my face. I knew it was stupid. A feeling cannot kill you. But then, I was being diminished. I was receding. 

I know you don’t feel well right now. But listen, I have these neighbors who still have their Christmas lights hanging up. It’s April. I sorta hope they leave them up all year round. 

I stayed frozen for a few weeks. 

Vitamin D and herbal teas, coffee and long novels. But then, I can’t explain it. It was Friday afternoon. Just a Friday afternoon. 

It began when I left the office. A slow bloom rose throughout my entire body. 

I noticed how all the buildings stood scraping against the most gorgeous, thin blue of the dying afternoon, rising evening. The wind felt kind. I didn’t go home. I went to the supermarket and held an orange in my hand, feeling the small indents with my thumbs, smelling the bright zest. It was as though everything was real again. That night, I bought a pack of cigarettes. I hadn’t smoked since I was nineteen. But I inhaled and let out a giant laugh at how lightheaded I felt, I walked through the streets like that, laughing and laughing, the laughter like the magician’s scarf being pulled out and out. It was a fantastic feeling. I felt fearless. As though I could scoop the fear and pain and shit out of myself like a pudding. I had capabilities. 

When I got home, I rushed in and had a shot of blueberry vodka and opened the windows and called Mary; she answered within a couple of rings. That gorgeous rodeo clown. I loved her as much as I loved anything. 

I never thought I’d hear your voice again, she said. But this worries me, y’know. How blue was the sky today?

I’m coming to see you, I said. Not tonight. But soon. I’ll stumble on your porch like a speedball. The sky was fantastic. I’m smoking.

Hm, she said. Listen, stay out of trouble. A feeling cannot kill you. I’ll save some tea for you. Come anytime. Come anytime. 

I couldn’t sleep. I played the same image in my mind, again and again. And words fizzed in and out too quickly for me to catch them. A church of nukes. Do you understand what you are signing? Perfume made of whale semen. Dominoes. 

In the morning, I could feel the angels looking over me. I imagined them like teenagers, shooting the shit, smoking and coughing and pointing. I spent the weekend in bars, meeting everyone on earth. A woman with a strong russian accent who told me the world was going down the toilet and we were all there for the ride. A man who asked me for three cigarettes and then told me he had coke if I wanted some. I spread a little on my gums. But it was a fifteen minute headache, it had nothing on the feeling within me, the glow which propelled and drove me around. I fucked the russian woman. 

I called out of work for the week, claimed I’d contracted HIV and needed time to grieve. I felt awful about the lie. It was ridiculous. But anything could happen. And I wasn’t wasting my time at a computer when I could see patterns in the streets. I wore a long, leather coat and wrapped it around my waist. And beneath, a black thong strung across my hips. I felt like a machine, I felt electric as I walked through the advertisement pus of Times Square, a cigarette beneath my teeth. I rode the trains for hours, befriending the other passengers. And for a moment, I forgot my address. It was nine in the morning. It was the middle of the night. I got nervous anytime I saw a police officer; there was a criminal in my heart. What was I doing? 

I went down to the village to visit Mary as promised. I felt breathless, sensitive to light. I was tired. It’d been years since sleep. I felt as though I was dying. A star exploding in reverse. Mary would know what to do. 

I knocked on her door and she answered as quick as she answered the phone. I smelled her vanilla scent. It made me nauseous. But I was so glad to see her; so glad she was there. I dated Mary for eight years. There was nobody on earth who knew me better than she did. 

You don’t look great, she said. Are you eating?

Not really, I told her as i walked into her apartment. I feel like I need a touch up. My engine is black. I’m running out of oil. I think I lost my job. I don’t know what day it is. 

It’s Saturday, she said. Three in the afternoon. It’s May and spring is here. Have a seat. 

I sat on her couch. 

I think I’ve been hexed, I said. A spell has been put on me. A poison. 

You’ve been here before, she said. Remember? That arrest in Ohio? Disturbing the peace? And the outburst in the museum. Banned from the gas station. A wild iris in your eyes. A desire for mountains. The call is coming from inside the house, Adam.

Mary gave me a cherry tart. I ate half of it and began to weep. Mary gave me a sleeping tablet. And when I woke up, I was horrified. 

When I got home, Mary had left me a voicemail. I laid down naked on the floor and listened. 

You’re a wife with cold feet. Shivering in the dressing room. You’re an astronaut grazing the face of the moon, blind to the wars on earth. You’re brave. You’re pathetic. You go to the amusement park to weep. You walk out onto the avenue to dance. You sneak into a club. And you feel nothing when the band plays, the gilded brass and vulgar scatting. 

And maybe you deserve it. 

[vixensofsorrow]

Demolition Lovers - Ⅳ i'll hang myself in lights and I will glow for you

DISCLAIMER: This fic is a long slowburn with multiple chapters, still being updated. also on AO3 my masterlist (all the chapters are linked there) PAIRING: young!Carol Denning/fem!reader OVERALL SUMMARY: An exploration of your and Carol's relationship through the years. CHAPTER SUMMARY: The argument won't leave your mind, and you need to take care of it ASAP. CHAPTER TAGS: fluff, angst, developing relationship, argument, hurt/comfort, complicated feelings A/N: I absolutely suck at the chapter tags thing

You dreaded the thought of going to school tomorrow. You spent the whole Saturday in your bed, puking up Fridays’ regrets into a bucket, with a pounding headache and a tight knot in your stomach.

Even though it was a Sunday night, some consequences of excessive drinking still hadn’t worn off, but you weren’t exactly sure if it was anxiety, a hangover, or an awful combination of both. Your parents had their suspicions, but you and your sister made a great team when it came to lying to them, and food poisoning was the most plausible excuse. Dana could tell that you were in a bad mood, but you blamed it on the alcohol.

You couldn’t remember most of what happened at the party, and you only found out about the argument that happened between you and Carol when Gina called yesterday to check in on you, but when you asked her about the topic of the fight, she said that all she could recall was all the yelling, crying, and swearing, and not what it was actually about.

You wondered if Carol also forgot about what went down. Most likely not, since she didn’t ring you at all, but you’ll find out tomorrow. The urge to call her with an apology for whatever you did was overwhelming, but so was the dread.

You gulped and reached over to the spruce-blue landline on your end table, inputting her number on the keypad. Halfway through, you stopped and put the handset down.

One time, Jennifer advised that “ No one should trust themselves after 9 PM ”, and perhaps she had a good point. Maybe for now, you should go to sleep obliviously and not relive the childhood flashbacks of confusion and desolation.

The bell rang, and English class was dismissed. Carol didn’t show up to school at all today, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was your fault. Thankfully, you’ll have a whole hour to linger on it, since it was lunch period.

You slowly walked down the traffic-jammed stairway, resisting the rude urge to cut in front of others, as you gave stern looks to the freshmen who still hadn’t caught the hand of the unspoken school etiquette. After what seemed like forever, you reached the ground floor and made your way toward the cafeteria, but frankly, you weren’t even in the mood to eat right now.

The overpowering stench of frying grease, tomato sauce, and overboiled broccoli wafted around in the canteen, and with that, the rest of your appetite disappeared completely.

Most of the long, beige-laminate rectangle tables were still empty, with most people waiting in line with their trays.

You nipped over to the vending machine, before a line could form there as well, and bought yourself a coke. As you expected, the grody machine swallowed your twenty-five cents, without giving you the item. Shit, you must’ve been cursed, because everything that could go wrong, went wrong. You just hoped you wouldn’t majorly fuck up at practice today.

You sighed and repeatedly banged on the dispenser to loud snickering coming from one of the groups, which caused you to turn around. Typically, you’d ignore it, but all your patience already run out. You didn’t have to look for long to find the perpetrators of the hyena-like laughter, of course it were the wannabe Valley Girls, but with a new addition to them; a thin, tall girl with sharp cheekbones, wide mouth, brown perm hair, and a fringe.

Strangely, she reminded you of somebody, but you brushed it off, blinded by irritation. You made eye contact with her and walked away from the vending machine, flipping their table off with a fake smile as you passed by on the way to where you always sat.

You plopped down on the plastic seat facing Rachel and stretched out your arms on the table with a groan. Fortunately, your lunch period aligned with hers, Gina's, Kristen’s, and now Carol’s, too.

“L/N, you’re that upset over a can of Coke?” Gina teased, probably exactly knowing what you’re actually upset about, poking around in the food with a fork, as Rachel ate the soggy mozzarella sticks and Kristen counted coins she pulled out of her pocket.

You looked up at her with a poker face, sucking in your cheek. “Uh, you know what, I’m upset for a different reason, but yeah, let’s go with that.”

Kristen peered up from her stack of coins and joined in on the conversation, her soft eyes analyzing your expression. “You wanna talk about it?” She had a caring and comforting aura, making it very hard to resist venting your heart out.

“Not really. I’m curious though, do any of you know what, like, actually went down between me and Carol at Nicole’s party?” You cracked your knuckles and took off your jacket, tying it around your waist while you waited for an answer. Rachel furrowed her bushy ginger eyebrows, still chewing her food, switching her attention from you to Gina, the only one who vaguely knew what happened, to confused Kristen, who put the coins back in her jean pocket, and then again back to you. 

The goalkeeper broke the silence as she swallowed the fried cheese. “Enge, what? Are you talking about that girl you were with? The one with the glasses?” She gesticulated.

Gina raised her brows and looked away, forming her dark red lips into a straight, thin line. 

“Okay, yeah, so nobody knows what really happened, fuck.” You groaned and leaned back in the chair, pushing back your cuticles. “Also, yes, I am talking about the one with the glasses. ”

Gina rested her elbows on the table. “Listen, from my point of view, I heard vague shouting and cursing, and then you bro-”

You cut her off in the middle of the sentence. “You told me all of that already, thanks.”

“Well, then that’s your only clue, L/N. Unless you want to walk around asking half the school about it.” The defensive-midfielder snapped back with her raspy voice. 

“Rachel, what about you?” You continued searching for an answer, even though you were aware that she most likely didn’t know anything. Still, you held onto a sprinkle of hope.

“I was taking care of ‘Ronica the whole time, sorry.” 

Kristen joined in on the conversation, and your eyes immediately lit up. “Actually, oh gosh, well, probably this won’t even help you…but” The blonde-haired defender was about to break into a long, detailed narrative of what she saw.

“Okay, so, I was hanging out in the kitchen, and I dragged Jason to the party with me, and we were sitting there together, talking, whatever. Gosh, he’s such a dweeb, but in a good way, he started writing down lyr-”

“Get to the point, Kris.” Gina reminded, gently laying her hand on Kristen’s shoulder.

“Right, right, sorry. So there was that and in the middle of us talking this disheveled girl with huge glasses and a blue flannel stormed in, I had a realization like, hey, I think she’s the new girl from Art class, but anyway…”

You were sure that she was indeed talking about Carol, and you sat up straight in your seat, listening carefully. The whole table focused on Kristen and the story.

“…And I’m talking disheveled , her face was red and puffy, and she was sniffling, I could tell she was hyperventilating too. Man, I felt really bad for her… Anyway, she pushed away some people who stood in front of the sink and just put her entire head under it while the water was still running, I think she might have been crying. Yeah, and then she leaned on the counter, the water was dripping everywhere, and well she vomited and then ran away.” She took a bite of broccoli that she dipped in marinara sauce. You thought that maybe she would provide some more useful information, but it was better than nothing, and you were desperate.

“Huh, well thanks, Kristy.” You forced yourself to smile swiftly, as a sign of appreciation.

Rachel tilted her head and put her fork down, as her mouth fell open and she squinted her green eyes that pierced right through you. “Hold on, is the girl with the glasses that Carol? Childhood best friend Carol?”

“Yup, that’s her.” The girls oohed in response, and you sighed while dropping your shoulders down.

Everyone on the team knew the lore behind Denning and you, for better or for worse, and surely some of them shared classes with her too.

You contemplated the description of the state Carol was in after the fight you had, and you really didn’t want to believe it, because then, you must’ve done something truly horrible for her to let people see her weak and emotional side. You didn’t want to believe that you abandoned your wasted friend in the middle of an overstimulating party full of people she didn’t know, left by herself in such a moment of vulnerability, surrounded by tons of drugs and alcohol.

The worst kinds of scenarios flooded in, such as someone taking advantage of her, roofing her drink, beating her up, Carol overdosing, or even someone kidnapping her - what if that’s what happened and she was too scared, or embarrassed, or upset to come to school today? What if she couldn’t come at all? Your fingers traveled to the pimple on your cheek, maniacally picking at it.

Perhaps, leaving her be - because it seems that’s what you did, was even worse than the actual argument, with much more serious consequences, and you just let it happen, for whatever idiotic reasons your drunken self had.

Blood began to seep out from the scratched-up acne onto your fingers as Rachel snatched your hand, murmuring, “Stop that” before you could go too far. You shook your head, trying to make the thoughts go away, and Kristen handed you a tissue.

You ran up the stairs as fast as possible, nearly tripping because of your wet shoes. The door almost fell off its hinges as you burst into your bedroom, carelessly throwing the duffle bag away. You swiftly grabbed the note with Carol’s address and phone number written on it, and immediately rushed outside. The cold rain poured down from the gray, cloudy sky as you took off for her house on your bike, still in the soccer uniform and backpack on your shoulders.

This whole situation was bothering you the whole weekend, even more, today, and you were going to figure out what was going on.

It couldn’t go on for another week, or two weeks, or longer, or your brain would eat itself alive with the overthinking. It already was in the process of doing so - you couldn’t remember the last time you did so badly at practice, and you wouldn’t forgive yourself if you fucked up State Championships for everyone because of your anxiety over a childhood best friend.

The wheels hit the puddle potholes, and rainwater mixed with dirt of the streets splashed on your sneakers. The wind blew away the hood of your soaked jacket, some warm-toned leaves brushing past you, your faintly blue-hued fingertips gripping the handle. You had a feeling this adventure would end up with you catching a cold or an unbearable strep throat. The American landscape of gas stations, parking lots, diners, and fast food chains illuminated the streets. You passed by a crowded Domingo’s and made a final right-turn, riding in the middle of a long road full of houses surrounding it from both sides, looking out for Carol’s place. Almost no one was outside except for children playing in the heavy rain or exhausted yuppies returning from work. The street was remotely quiet, except for shouting coming from one of the houses.

During your time scoping out the surroundings, a middle-aged couple walked out of one of the buildings, the man yelling at whoever was standing on the other side of the door as it got shut close aggressively, along with a kid - most likely their daughter, who was talking with her mom. You looked at the address on the paper, and the house number matched the one you just observed, now aware that the parents and favorite child of the Denning family just reversed out of the driveway. You waited for them to drive past you and when they did you immediately got off your bike, charging towards the front door as it hit the lawn, the wheels still spinning, along with your head.

Out of nowhere, heavy trepidation filled your whole body, and a lump formed in your throat as you stood on the porch, almost glued to the oak floor. All the confidence you had went away with the snap of a finger, and the dropping levels of adrenaline brought you down to earth, but your heart was still pounding. Turns out, you weren’t ready to find out the truth, but you couldn’t back out now. You slowly raised your numb, cold hand and knocked repeatedly, until the door swung open, and when it did, your head jerked back and brows furrowed, slowly morphing into high arches as you crossed your arms.

“Um, hi? Oh, it’s you.” Barbara chuckled, with her hands in the pockets of her pants. “You’re mental, how did you even find my house?!”

“Hey, Barb…” Shit, this is awkward. She parted her lips as her tongue darted around inside the mouth, her wide eyes looking you up and down. A smirk grew on her face, and you could tell that some childhood memories came back to her. “...Uh, is Carol home?” You stammered, discreetly cracking your knuckles.

Miss Congeniality scoffed. “Oh my gosh, Y/N. I would’ve never guessed in a hundred years that you, of all people, would be on a high school sports team! I always took you for the artsy type.”

“Right, well, y’know, those two don’t exclude each other… Is Carol home?” You repeated.

“Ugh, yeah.” She stepped aside, letting you in, grimacing as she noticed water dripping everywhere. “Second door on the right.” Barb tilted her head in the direction of the upstairs as she closed the door. “Thanks…” You whispered, slowly walking up, tightly gripping the sleeve of your jacket.

Thank the gods you were drenched from the rain - you didn’t have to worry about the tremendous amount of sweat trickling from your forehead. You took a proper breath, the first one since you got on that bike, and knocked on the poster-covered door. 

“Fuck off, Barbie!” Carol yelled out, her voice was weirdly strained and creaky. You debated if you should knock once again, or just walk in. You landed on the first, and heavy footsteps along with a loud groan and a “What the fuck do you want now?” followed towards you. Maybe you should’ve gone with just storming in; the hostile tone stiffened your muscles and you were so pale that if not for the racing heartbeat, you could’ve sworn you were dead.

She unlatched the door at full tilt, the sudden airflow cooling your wet, wincing body. As she saw you, she immediately shifted from being truculent and aggressive, to calm and collected. Carol leaned on the doorframe, squinting her red, puffy eyes as she took in how much of a mess you were. It took you longer than you’d like to admit, to notice fresh, oval-shaped bruises on her upper arm, which you kept on dwelling at until she rapidly hid the arm behind her back. You wanted to ask her about it, but you couldn’t utter a word.

“You look like hell, Engie.” The use of the nickname caught you off guard. How did she even know it? Carol turned her head away for a second to brush away something on her flushed face.

“How do you even-” You stuttered, shaking your head and blinking rapidly.

“What do you want?” She cut you off in a stern tone. Her jaw was slightly quivering.

You sighed, sucking in air through your teeth, still holding onto your jacket. “Carol, do you, do you remember what happened between us at the party? Or just anything?”

Carol scoffed, and her eyes darted around alongside a puffy pout in a mocking manner. “Well, I do remember. Quite a lot, actually.” She looked you up and down again, clenching her jaw with a now serious expression. “Looking at the state of you, and the fact that you had the audacity to show up at my fucking house, you probably don’t remember shit.”

“Yea, that’s why I fucking asked in the first place, Denning.” You let go of the sleeve and made eye contact with her, even to your surprise, retaliating her attitude. You were fed up and truly did not want to argue, but it seemed like that was the only way to make things clear.

She raised her brows and chuckled. “Alright. I’ll tell you how it went. You were drunk out of your mind, and so was your little best friend Vee, and some ginger girl was there too. You went to help her, and you left me all alone. That was a shitty move, Y/N. Then you came back and started comin’ at me, being all mad that I didn’t help too, or some other bullshit, and when I tried to tell you that I wasn’t feelin’ good too, you pulled out the childhood trauma card, blaming everything on me. And hmm… I think that’s it. Oh, and you also told me to fuck off before storming off and getting even more fucked up. I think you might have a drinking problem or somethin’.” Carol gritted her teeth and smiled at you with narrow, brown, glassy eyes. “Is that enough?”

Your stomach sank. You didn’t want to believe the words that just came out of her mouth. You understood now why she didn’t want to talk to you, after that, you wouldn’t talk to yourself either. She has been back in town for barely a week, and you already fucked it all up for you both. You had a feeling that you should just apologize and walk away now, but you were concerned about what happened after you stormed off, the bruise, and what happened for her to be crying before you even arrived. You might’ve left her alone that time, but you won’t do it now - no matter how much she asks you to. 

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. “Carol, listen. I’m bad at apologies, but I’m sorry, I was drunk, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was worried sick on Saturday, and Sunday, and today. I’m, listen, please, just tell me if I did that to you. ” You pointed at the arm she held behind her back.

Denning averted her eyes from you and stared through the floor. “No, Y/N, it wasn’t you. You feelin’ better now?” She turned away, went over to the pile of clothes on her chair, and put on a sweater as you walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind you. Barb probably eavesdropped enough on that topic.

“No, not really. Did some asshole do this? Zach? Kevin? At the party? Is that why you, uh, you know, the kitchen thing…” You stood in the middle of her room, with boxes scattered around in the corners.

Carol groaned as you said “ the kitchen thing ”, running a hand through her hair and grabbing it by the roots. “God, you’re not gonna let this shit go, won’t you?” She sat down on the bed, and took off her glasses, tapping her foot and chewing on her lip. “It was an asshole, but not at the party, okay? I didn’t get raped or anything. And I told you, I also felt like shit, but you didn’t listen, seems like you’re not listening now either… But that’s why I puked, in that fuckin’ kitchen. Who even told you about this?” Her voice got weaker with each word, and she wrapped her arms around her knees.

A heavy weight lifted off your shoulders when she said that she didn’t get hurt at the party, but concern still lingered around. “Oh, Kris told me. Blonde hair, funky makeup, said you share Art period with her.” You leaned against her dark wood drawer chest, lightly picking at your face. “You know, you can te-”

She could tell where you were going with that and interrupted before you could continue. Maybe it’s for the better not to push the topic today, she was already in distress. 

“Oh, her. She’s sweet.” Carol uttered.

She wasn’t angry anymore, her voice was dull and she gazed off into the distance, avoiding you, like something would snap inside of her if she caught a glimpse. Her shoulders slumped forward, almost as if she took on the burden that just fell off yours.

The sudden, longer-than-usual hollow silence, only broken by raindrops hitting the window, filled the room with a painful aura of vulnerability and, strangely, nostalgia. You kept on looking at an almost catatonic Carol, unsure of what to do, a childlike confusion, similar to when you see your parent crying for the first time. It’s been so long since you saw her like this, and every idea that came to mind just seemed wrong.

You could remember that she didn’t like pity, but also that she loved to be held. You sat down cross-legged next to her on the plaid blanket, and before you could do anything, Carol rested her head on your damp shoulder, holding her knees close to her chest, sniffling. For a while, you were kids again, and life was simple. Nothing could hurt you as long as you were in each other's arms.

[denim-mixtapes]

The Third Date Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.5K Tags: Best friends to lovers, unrealistic expectations on how fast a relationship should move (but shut up they're in love), a cute and casual little marriage proposal (for real this time).

Summary: Eddie promised you could get married after your third date and you automatically wrote it off as a joke, but he's a man of his word after all.

[AO3] [Part 1 - All I Ever Wanted]

Eddie Munson never wants to get married. 

If anyone had asked you six months ago, you would have been certain about it. Now? Not so much. 

When he presented you with the ring (as promised) on your third official date, you laughed. It was a giggle of elation, a chesty huff of denial, a sound of disbelief that he managed to get his hands on something so beautiful so quickly, and that he was so certain that he still wanted to marry you even after the moment passed and the dust had settled. 

He offered it so casually, so confidently, in only a way that Eddie Munson could. 

You were at the drive in for a classic horror double feature, something the pair of you had done countless times throughout the years. The van’s doors propped open so that you could see the screen from your spot propped up against the back of the front seats, a bowl full of popcorn mixed with M&M’s on your knees, and Eddie’s arm snug around your shoulder. It was the same as it had always been, but with the weight and promise of something more, it made your heart race knowing you could lean up and steal a kiss whenever you wanted, that this was the new normal, that his arm around you and hand on your knee were far from platonic anymore. 

The credits had just rolled on The Blob, and you had about fifteen minutes of intermission for bathroom and refreshment breaks before they started playing The Creature From the Black Lagoon. Eddie set the popcorn bucket to the side and scooted toward the back of the van, but not before fixing you with a lingering kiss that melted your heart. 

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks, I’ll be right back.” Though it was a simple statement, his words were heavy, almost nervous, and he held your eye for just a beat too long. He was up to something. 

He didn’t leave you much room to overthink, however, because soon enough he was returning with a couple bottles of Coke and something discreetly held in his other fist. He beckoned you toward him with a nod of his head, and you scooted forward, letting your legs dangle from the bumper and leaving an opening for him to stand between them. With the bottles set aside, he rested his free hand on your thigh, smiling and gently rubbing the exposed skin under the hem of your shorts. 

“What d’you have there?” You asked cheekily, nodding to his still closed fist. 

“Oh this?” He tutted, holding a small toy capsule up in between your faces. The sunny yellow plastic glinted under the streetlamp above as he turned it in his fingers. Then, a smirk broadening on his face, he tossed it in the air and snatched it from in front of your face before it could fall any further, presenting it to you with an open palm. “I got you a little something from the quarter machine. Couldn’t help myself.” 

Raised brows and an encouraging nod from the man in front of you prompted you to take the capsule from his hand. When you did, his then free hand fell to mirror the other resting on your thigh. You caged him in with your legs, wrapping them around his waist and smiling when both of his hands smoothed up your thighs to grip at your hips, a smug, expectant look on his face. 

Tearing at the lid of the capsule, you weren’t sure what you expected; a bouncy ball or a keychain, one of those little glow in the dark aliens or a temporary tattoo, something chintzy and silly and definitely not even worth the quarter spent on it. When you dumped over the capsule, never did you expect a ring to fall out. A mood ring, maybe, but not the ring that rested in your palm gingerly. It was a beautiful little thing, a dark, smoky emerald stone set in swirling, delicate gold. It was almost elven in nature, and far from traditional, but would you expect anything less from the man in front of you? 

That’s when the giggles came. With the ring pinched in between your thumb and forefinger, you looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow and amused smile. 

“Is this-?” You started, but he cut you off. 

“I told you, third date.” 

Another laugh of disbelief rippled through you, shaking your head and holding the ring – the engagement ring? – to your chest with pride, you continued to gaze at him in wonder. His deep brown eyes shone back, round and practically twinkling with excitement when his hands cover yours, only to pluck the jewelry from your grasp. 

“Eddie,” you huffed, looking from the ring to him and back again, holding his gaze with a sincere look in your eye. “Is this really something you want? Because – well, cause I know how you feel about marriage and I don’t want you to compromise your beliefs for me an– and I would love nothing more than to marry you but I don’t want to be the reason you’re–” 

Eddie silenced your worrying with a gentle kiss, one hand on the back of your head to draw you in, his lips soothing your anxiety and shutting you up in one fell swoop. The ominous music from the movie’s opening credits started up as he pulled away, fingers scratching at the base of your skull soothingly, and he gave a chuckle of his own. “Are you done?” You nodded shyly, biting at your lower lip, and he continued. “I may have been pretty negative about marriage before, but if I’m being honest, it’s only because when you talked about this big dream wedding of yours, I always pictured someone else standing at the altar with you. I was bitter because I was jealous, jealous of this man that didn’t even exist yet. And…sure, I might still think it’s a little fucked to let a piece of paper define our relationship – especially when I’ve been in love with you far longer than we even defined our relationship.” His brows pinched together, a wrinkle in his nose that indicated he was holding back a laugh of his own. You, however, giggled, unable to hold back the laughter at how silly you both had been to hide your feelings for so long. You ran a finger down the bridge of his nose and then kissed where it wrinkled, but let him keep talking. “But, the thought of throwing a kickass party just to boast how in love we are? Where I get to show you off and call you my wife? And then afterwards, I get to spend the rest of my life with you? Well then fuck yeah, sign me up.” 

“Will you ever stop surprising me, Eddie Munson?” You asked, hands buried in his hair, unrelenting smile still taking over your features. 

“Christ, I hope not,” he retorted, once again holding up the ring between you. “So what d’you say?” 

You were nodding before the words left your mouth, holding out your hand excitedly. “I concur,” you trilled, wiggling your fingers expectantly, “fuck yeah.” 

With the ring on your finger and the promise of forever, he pressed you into the blankets, worshiping your skin with his lips and delighting in the sounds you made. Movie all but forgotten, he closed the van doors behind you, and you spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other, until all the other cars had long gone home. 

—-

When you broke the news to your friends, they were all in the same state of shock and denial that you were. 

Robin was appalled that you didn’t tell her when you started officially dating (though, really, it was only about 2 weeks longer so could she really be that mad?). After her initial outburst and playful punch to both of your shoulders, however, she offered tight hugs and congratulations and begged to be included in the cake taste testing. 

Steve was quite the opposite. When you presented him with your freshly manicured hand and he spotted the ring, he sighed, “about damn time, Munson!” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing and fixing Steve with a quizzical look. “What do you mean?” 

“Yeah man,” Eddie echoed, “what the hell?” 

He looked nervously between you two, fluffed hair bouncing with the dramatic back-and-forth of his head. Brow furrowed and mouth agape, he stared for a moment. “Haven’t you two been dating since, like, high school? I mean, it was obvious how crazy you two were for each other.” He finally asked, only to be cut off by a peal of laughter from both of you. 

“Steve,” you chortled, hand on his forearm and a serious look in your eye. “You couldn’t have told us that?” 

Though he sighed in disdain and rolled his eyes, he still insisted he would be there for whatever you needed. 

Nancy only gave you a knowing look with her own congratulations and asked when she needed to request time off to take you dress shopping. Dustin just shrugged and asked if he could officiate. 

Everyone in your little found family had a hand in your upcoming big day, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[senorablack]

K BUT HEAR ME OUT

The gates are closed. But the paranoia lingers. The party's older crew take turns scouting prior areas of entry (lovers lake, mirkwood, lab, eddie's trailer, the crossroads and etc ). Steve and Eddie are watch partners. Hawkin's lab is on their roster this week.

The lab is abandoned. Covered in dust and blood and shrapnel. They take their time searching each room. A sound catches them off guard when they reach the last hall. At the end there is no door but there is an unmistakable sound of electricity firing up. But that can't be right. The entire compound was stripped of its contents and power sources after the raid. This sound definitely wasn't there when Jon and Nance came by last week or they would have reported it.

"Guessing you never heard about what happen to the cat?" Eddie whispers as Steve feels out the wall.

"Shhh." Steve says, feeling for a crevice or a hint of air or light or some indentation that might indicate a lever or latch or button. Steve does not find one on the wall.

But the his foot catches. On a rubber mat. They hadn't even notice the change of texture. Having been transversing over debris the entire time. Steve falls to the floor. Pulls back the mat. Underneath is a titanium door and with two hinges. Steve pulls it open despite Eddie's mutter expletives.

The door makes no sound as it opens up, but it does increase the sound of unmoored electricity. It's dark down there save a tiny glow of sparks firing off. There is metal stairs. And Steve starts to descend.

"It killed the cat, Harrington." Eddie calls after him and waits until Steve's more hair than body. He paces once, rolls his shoulders back twice, and on breath three he follows. There is loose and cut wire flailing and hazardous on the stairs. And they follow it in round until they reach concrete floor.

The room is in much greater shape then the rest of the compound. Everything above seems to be a portrait of work interrupted when hell opened up. A tool left out. A bottle of sterilizing solution uncapped. A coke can popped opened. This placed looked cared after. Steve and Eddie share a frown. And finally. FINALLY. Steve gets on his level.

"I don't got a good feeling about this." Steve mumbles.

"Yeah? What gave it away? Was it the secret trap door or the live wire we had to avoid on the way down?"

They scan the room and find a machine hidden behind a glass door.

"And what's your feeling on this, huh?" Eddie says with wild eyes and waving towards the machine.

It looked like a electric chair. In tandem. There were two seats. Leather buckles for a pair of arms and legs each. A dome that hung on a hinge that Eddie suspected was for the head.

"Shut up." Steve sighs.

Eddie walks over to the chamber and a panel reveals itself from a grey box affixed to the glass as soon as he is a foot away. Or something like a panel. More like three buttons and a switch.

"What do you think would happen if I hit the one that says open?"

"Don't even think about it."

But Eddie was laughing and he's always laughed with his body, and not meaning to AT ALL, well, his arm hit it anyway. The glass door slid open like automatic doors to a grocery.

"Jesus--are you--Eddie! Are you serious right now?"

"I didn't mean to." Eddie softly.

"What do you think it does?" Steve asked softer. They both shuffled forward, stepping into the glass case, circling the chairs.

"Not sure I want to stick around to find out." Eddie frowns.

"Yeah, definitely not." Steve nods. "Let's get the hell out of here."

That's when the glass doors shut. A high beam of light. Rainbow of colors. One second passes. Feeling like a plane lifting off. Another and a feeling of nausea. Eddie wakes up next to Steve on the concrete floor. The light is gone. The glass doors are open.

Only.

They lie next to one of their flashlights. And it's five times their size.

Cue the guys trying to get back to the rest of the party for help-- traveling for what feels like months through microcosms of forest and suburb, meeting bugs and critters that help them, learning about each other's bravery-- so they can restore them back to their natural state.

[simmyfrobby]

hi! have u ever checked out gord downie (of the tragically hip)’s poetry? his book ‘coke machine glow’ has patched me back together a good few times- there r poems about hockey in there iirc and also other wonderful things, shout if u want recs!

(your account is a joy btw 🫵💌)

i didn’t but I just looked him up! his poetry is really interesting to me in the sense that it still sometimes read like lyrics. the blend is really cool! please do send me a hockey poem or just whichever poem is your favourite ❤️

also found this:

Poetry has a bad rap in our culture. Novelist David Mitchell says, “Too many people think it’s an elitist pastime, like polo; or twee verse; or brain-bruising verbal Sudoku. Poetry isn’t these things—or if it is, you’re reading the wrong stuff. Like music, you need to explore a little to find poets whose work speaks to you, and then you have a lifelong friend who’ll tell you truths you didn’t know you knew.”

[mindlessmutant]

Bells tolled, left wanting and worn down

The 25 or 6 to 4

The tendencies towards thinking where did I go wrong

Gone…still want more

But your name, the suit of light and your time echoes and shines

These days replaying your cicada night

We vie, heed calls

To fly is to fall, crumble, crawl

Counting time, dimes nickels quarter tones to ten

If not us, then who? If not now, then when?

Will I see you again?

Passing years cracked without you near

Racked focus only proves what’s unclear

I’d live like that forever if I could just to have you here

But there you go…

Coke machine glow

Honeyed lungs, axes swung

Falling fast, slow to show

And what for?

Life and nothing more

Corrida

Blood on the sand

You gave us all that was had

Left with your green ray

To! Fro!

Down yellow brick roads

Whose left to pick up the stones?

How will we start today?

Evil ways

It’s a wild combination

The swimmer in the pool

You never let them see you bleed out, my friend

Never suffered no fools

(A whole life) Sharp like a knife

Dropped knee to the floor

To fall, to fly, to endure

Welcome defeat, rinse, repeat

Never like before

Goodbye Matador

[djlyer]

The Haunting. October 18, 2022

Heeeee’s dropping another one so brush up on your Gord Downie solo albums.  This week is Secret Path Week to honor the lives of Chanie Wenjack and Gord Downie, every October 17-22nd is a good time to do something. Remember the seven sacred teachings and extend them to others, be well!

Gord Downie - Secret Path  - Son 

Gord Downie - Away is Mine - No Solace 

Gord Downie & The Sadies - And the Conquering Sun - Devil Enough 

Jim Bryson & The Weakerthans - The Falcon Lake Incident - Freeways in the Front Yard 

Gord Downie - Battle of the Nudes - Steeplechase 

The Watchmen - Live and in Stereo - St Swithins Day 

The Tragically Hip (Secret Path Week)  World Container (17th, 2006) - Fly 

William Prince - Single - Sing Me a Song 

Gord Downie and the Country of Miracles - The Grand Bounce - Yellow Days 

Buck 65 - 20 Odd Years - Whispers of the Waves (ft. Gord Downie) 

Gord Downie - Coke Machine Glow - I Stand Before the Song Writer’s Cabal 

Gord Downie - Introduce Yerself - Wolf’s Home

[greyscatch]

Gord downie music

Terfry composed the track and with the help of Charles Austen, his co-writer, decided Downie's vocals would be the best fit for their song. Terfry collaborated with Downie on the song Whispers of the Waves off the album 20 Odd Years. These collaborations do not include the musicians who have helped Downie to create his solo albums. His most famous Canadian collaborations are with Richard Terfry (better known as Buck 65), Dallas Green of City and Colour and Alexisonfire, the Sadies and Fucked Up. His backing band on all of those albums consisted of the indie rock band The Dinner Is Ruined, along with Josh Finlayson of Skydiggers and singer-songwriter Julie Doiron, although they were credited as The Goddamned Band on Coke Machine Glow and as Country of Miracles on the later two albums.ĭownie collaborated with fellow Canadian and international artists. After making three more albums with the Tragically Hip, he made The Grand Bounce in 2010, which is credited to Gord Downie and the Country of Miracles. He went on to release his solo album, Battle of the Nudes, in 2003. Along with this release he published his first poetry and prose book named after his solo album. In 2001, Downie diverted from the band and started his solo career with the release of his album Coke Machine Glow. This much-loved Canadian band has won over many fans through the incorporation of Downie’s stories and myths about life in Canada in his songs, and his wild antics and rantings on stage. Originally, the band started off playing cover songs in bars and quickly became famous once MCA Records president Bruce Dickinson saw them performing at the Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto and offered them a record deal. Saxophone player Davis Manning left the band and guitarist Paul Langlois joined in 1986. Downie formed the Tragically Hip with Rob Baker, Johnny Fay, Davis Manning, and Gord Sinclair in 1983. Gordon Downie (known widely as Gord Downie) grew up in a suburb of Kingston, Ontario, where he befriended the musicians who would become The Tragically Hip, while attending the downtown Kingston high school Kingston Collegiate and Vocational Institute. He released six solo albums: Coke Machine Glow (2001), Battle of the Nudes (2003), The Grand Bounce (2010), And the Conquering Sun with The Sadies (2014), Secret Path (2016), and Introduce Yerself (2017). He was the lead singer and lyricist for the Canadian rock band The Tragically Hip. Gordon Edgar Downie CM (6 February 1964 – 17 October 2017) was a Canadian rock musician, writer, and occasional actor.

[witheryouth]

Insomniacs Of The World, Good Night by Gord Downie

Happy 20 years of Coke Machine Glow

I can see the line of your brassiere I can contemplate it from here There's no need for breathlessness When we're so far apart I can see us writhing in a phone booth Or laid back in the dewy grass of our youth Gathering our sweetnesses And wishing on the Neverstar Our happy days of electrical smiles And loving evenings falling down in piles Not imagining a restlessness That could keep us apart