#Coke Ovens

[rabbitcruiser]

The Colorado National Monument was established on May 24, 1911.

[smellofwater]

A Memory

The Black Path Middlesbrough. February 2015

[akayna]

[otrtbs]

i have a chicken in the oven 🧍‍♀️ y’all literally a whole ass chicken,,, who the fuck do i think i am with a rotisserie chicken in the oven????

[violets4roses444]

i need him

[umilily]

i'm back. (and i didn't commit murder, but it was close.)

[familygazaamal]

Please stop and listen to our painful story and help me save my family 🇵🇸🇵🇸

After the great destruction to which our home was exposed, living in tents, and the difficult and desperate living conditions in which my children and I live in light of the lack of basic life necessities.

To read the full story here at the link

After being displaced more than five times and living in a tent, you can imagine living all day in a three square meter space where you spend all your needs. The high temperature is as if you are living in an oven. Due to the intense heat and the spread of reptiles and insects, you do not know the taste of sleep or rest.

My children and I live in desperate conditions. We lost our passion for life after everything was destroyed, as well as our only source of income and the destruction of the house. My children have not been to school for a year and are receiving education in tents.

How can you help? Donate, share the donation campaign with your friends, and support the page

@sayruq @90-ghost @appsa @aria-ashryver @northgazaupdates2 @timetravellingkitty

@wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe @schoolhater @pcktknife @mangocheesecakes @khanger

[sagxshi]

bro my fucking head is killing me

[faithandarisadventures]

Coke Ovens Park West Blocton, Alabama January 22, 2023

[themimicbird]

꒰ა˖⁺ I vow to fill my life with...⁺˖໒꒱

Satin sheets

Sunday Brunch in cute outfits

Warm cups of loose tea leaves

Passion projects

Vanilla & brown sugar scents

Gold jewelry with tiny crystals

Handwritten letters & journals

Fresh flowers displayed in vases

Classical novels

Poem filled pages I wrote but will never share

˖⁺--------⁺˖꒰ა໒꒱˖⁺--------⁺˖

Freshly brewed coffee

Songs that sound like memories I've never had

An owl singing outside my window

Nostalgia connected to what I can't remember

Cookies just out of the oven

Satin sleep masks that are always on the floor when I wake

Socks with Lace details

Writing by myself on rainy days

Decorative crystals when the sun hits them just right

Vanilla favored coke paired with ice in a clear glass

˖⁺--------⁺˖꒰ა໒꒱˖⁺--------⁺˖

Specks of sunlight dancing in-between the leaves of a tree

Bamboo brushes

Chapped lips covered by $1.00 coke scented chap stick

A yoga mat forgotten and still spread out on the floor

Vaseline on dry skin before bed

Nights with years' worth of old playlists whispering in my ears

Dresses and designer clothes flooding my search history

Humming to songs, I barely know the words of

Thrifting dates with myself

And a future lover by my side, however long that takes

[rabbitcruiser]

Colorado National Monument (No. 12)

The oldest rock layers are at the bottom because they were laid down first. The landscape changed across the eons, adding more layers on top of older ones. The youngest rock layers are on top of the rest. Think of adding to a pile of laundry. You put some clothes down first, and as you add more clothes on top, the weight presses on what's below. The top of the pile is whatever clothing you added last. To grasp how the pile of laundry (or rock layers) changed over time, it makes sense to start at the bottom and see what got added above. We'll read this diagram - and scroll the rest of this page - from top to bottom because that's how we read pages. But, to understand the geologic story in order, we should consider reading from the bottom up. Starting at the top with most recent rock layers, the diagram shows that the Morrison layer formed in ancient lakes and forests. Continuing down in layers, you can see the Entrada was once a sandy beach. Below that, the Kayenta is revealed as braided streams. Then, the Wingate sandstone was once a vast sandy desert. Lower still is the Chinle layer, which was once a floodplain. At the very bottom, the Precambrian layer was once the core of a mountain range.

Source

[smellofwater]

A Memory

[bharatoffpage]

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

[frnchgirls]

warnings: long!, all the angst!!, tyler beat up a guy once :/, infidelity if you squint

when tyler returned to arkansas, you were the last person he expected to see.

in the baking aisle of the piggly wiggly in his hometown was where he found you again after nearly a decade, reading the label on a box of cocoa powder in the same sundress you've had since the two of you dated in high school. thank heavens you notice him and speak first, that way he gets to pretend like he wasn't already contemplating what to say or if you'd even recognize him as soon as he stepped around the corner.

"tyler owens. you got a lotta nerve decidin' to show your face around here." you tease to mask your surprise, pulling your overflowing basket closer to yourself, and holy cow, he thinks you might be prettier now than on the day you met. "oh, really? why's that?" he asks, lifting his hat to greet you. "last i heard, you got famous and moved to new york. the locals don't like it when people make it outta here. must be real jealous." you tell him, and he just nods and strokes his stubble.

"y'know, you're a local. does that mean you're jealous too?" tyler inquires with a smirk, and you're all too quick to reply, "no, sir. knew you were gonna be somethin' the moment i laid eyes on you. only somethin' i've ever wanted to be was a housewife." you smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. you clear your throat and ask him why he's back in town. "my aunt's getting sick, so i thought i'd see her while i still can. my storm chasin' team's been in the pits without me, too. not a lot of work for me in the northeast, if you can imagine." he confesses, and any trace of happiness on your face disappears.

"oh, ty, i'm so sorry." you apologize, and your gaze lands on the items in your shopping basket. "i was fixin' to go home and whip up some coca-cola cake. dunno if it's still your favorite but, maybe you could come with? take some to your aunt for me?" you offer. he's nodding faster than you can blink, half of the items on his grocery list long forgotten after you've checked out and he follows you to your car.

it's not long before the two of you are sat at your kitchen counter, ribs aching from laughter as you reminisce about your teenage escapades. the sweet smell of warm chocolate emanates from the oven and lingers in the air. tyler asks if you've seen his livestreams. you use every excuse as to why you haven't; that you're too busy, that you don't get good internet in rural arkansas, anything but the truth. seeing him that happy without you is just too painful.

"if there's no work in new york, why'd you move there?" you question, taking a sip of coke. he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "for a girl. a girl from sapulpa." you almost choke on the liquid, causing a little to dribble down your chin. "a girl from sapulpa? what?-" you pause to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and he continues, "a storm chaser from sapulpa. her name's kate. she quit chasin' and got a job with the national oceanic and atmospheric administration. in new york."

your first thought is that she must be sharp as a tack, getting a job at a fancy place like that. but then a hundred more thoughts swarm your brain; when they might have met, if she's pretty, if she's kind, if he loves her, if he wants to marry her.

but you couldn't possibly ask him all that. you're a lady.

tyler breaks the silence. "you been talkin' to any fellas around here?" he's not sure if he even wants to know. you're not sure if you even want to tell him. you don't look him in the eyes when you say, "yeah, i uh- i've been with bobby for about 3 years now. you remember bobby? from school?" and sure, of course he remembers bobby. he spent all of senior year just trying to keep that meathead away from you.

"you know i hated him, right?" tyler spits, running a hand through his hair as he leans over the counter, getting closer to you, "i almost killed him when he tried asking you to prom in front of me. in front of everybody. it was embarrassing." your lip quivers as the distance closes between you. "well, he's different now." you retort, trying to convince him, trying to convince yourself. "that's a load of horse shit." he scoffs, "why are you going out with him, really?"

"maybe because he didn't abandon me, tyler!" you exclaim, and you shudder when you feel his warm breath against your skin. he cups your cheeks in his hands. "hey, hey. peach, look at me. i would've taken you to oklahoma with me in a heartbeat. why didn't you tell me?" he asks, searching your teary eyes. but how do you explain that leaving wasn't your dream? that you would have been happy growing old with him right here? that staying with him would have just held him back? that you had to let him go?

he kisses you. and fuck, you haven't been kissed in so long. but he's not yours anymore.

you force yourself to push him away. "tyler, no. we can't. we can't." you tell him, the words thick as molasses as they fall from your tongue. he reaches for your wrist as you rise from your seat, but you're pulling back before he gets ahold of it. "leave. get out of my house." you speak over him as he begs for the two of you to talk it out. "i mean it, tyler owens. go home." and that's enough to send him on his way, slamming your front door behind him.

by some coincidence, the timer on the oven goes off, letting you know the coca-cola cake you had just forgotten about was done baking. you think maybe you'll eat it all yourself. maybe you'll throw it out. maybe you'll share it with bobby. maybe you'll break up with him.

maybe in another life, you could've been enough for tyler.

[apollos-boyfriend]

two barely-avoided meltdowns later and the coke is IN the oven 👍 will post pics when it’s done