#what is it with me an trashmen

[locria-writes]

*carelessly tossing dragon boi away* new trashman you say? ohohihohohohiho 🙂🤲

#this is easily one of the worst trashmen i've ever written #like idk what it is about him but he gives me the ick fr #i actually like vezian more than him lmao

[hughungrybear]

Me watching Only Friends Ep 11:

1. B*tch, this show has no right to make me cry in the first 5 minutes of this episode so early in the morning. 😭😭😭 I feel so much for Yo. At least Yo and Plug are back into each other's arms.

2. Again, Mew irritates me. He decided to give his relationship with Top another shot, but the way that he is acting shows that he has already checked out of this relationship. Why even bother with second chances? For revenge? Why waste your time??? Just cut Top loose and move on.

3. I'm not saying Top deserves another chance (imo, he doesn't) but I'm with him in this one. Again, it was Mew who decided to give their relationship a go. He could have walked away and cut all ties with Top. But nooooo. He wants to prolong this sh*tty love story, for what? For the angst???

4. I hope Nick can still have his dream job after he eventually comes clean (and breaks Daddy Dan's heart) 😔

5. Oh, is Sand finally blocking Ray? Looks like it. 🧐 <after five minutes> Nooooo. Gods dammit. This the second time I'm crying and its just the first part of Episode 11. WTH.

6. Finally. Some healthy communication between Ray and Sand 😭😭😭

7. So, after failing to cause significant havoc on TopMew's life (because let's face it, those two don't need another reason to be toxic to each other), Boeing would try to wreck Sand's life? The fvck.

8. Nick and Boston. As I said in the previous episode, no matter what they decided their relationship is going to be (open, poly, etc), it looks like is going to be healthy as they are both accepting of each other's faults at this point. Also, Nick helping Boston with his Atom problem is 🤌

9. Boston and Nick truly said to Atom: "This is my villain origin story" 😅😅😅

10. Boston to Atom: "How can you love me when we only slept together once? Just because I'm the first guy you slept with?"

Yeah! That's my question too! Seriously, Atom's got (mental) problems and Boston ain't one of them 😂

11. "But you turned me into gay!" Atom, b*tch, you did not go there. Being queer is not contagious. Don't make me slap you. 🤬

12. TopMew. I am exhausted just looking at you, two. 😑

I did not see any ForceBook series in GMMTV's Up & Above trailer party. I think I might need to re-watch A Boss and A Babe after this series just to remind me of sickeningly sweet (without ulterior motives) ForceBook moments 😭😭😭

13. It is clear - only the lesbians have a semblance of healthy, thriving relationship all through out this series (CheumApril and Mew's mums) 😅

14. Let's just say, Ray's confidence is giving me life 😂

15. It's a good thing Cheum's relationship with April is solid. Otherwise, the girl is an idiot. She has known Boston for a long time. Granted, it was her little brother doing the slandering but the least she could have done is give Boston the benefit of a doubt.

16. Boston committing to a monogamous relationship? Really? But I get Nick. Nick's fear was essentially the same as Yo's fear.

17. It's a given that Boeing is trash, but can't he at least be trash somewhere else? 😂 Leave Sand alone. Sand being a magnet of trashmen is just 😔 At least, Ray is working on improving himself for Sand.

18. Ray's offence is the best defence is, again, giving me life 😂 It's the battle of the trashmen 😂😂

With that preview, looks like Boston will cross paths with Boeing too. Now, I don't know how to feel about things LOL. Let's hope the final episode will give us a good conclusion. I'm not even sure if I would want a season 2. This series is stressing me out 😭😭😭😭

#only friends the series #only friends #only friends ep 11 #ofts #topmew #sandray #bostonnick #forcebook #force jiratchapong #book kasidet #firstkhao #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #neomark #neo trai #mark pakin

[crimson-calligraphyx]

16: The Letdown

A/N: For those who aren't familiar with the term "sanitation department", that is part of the DPW that takes care of your trash (aka, trashmen lol). I'm basing this part off of an actual story from my step dad, as he was a route supervisor. P.S. Sorry Noah's POV is so short in this chapter.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

It hasn’t even been a full week of being back at work and this place was already stressing me out. Whoever filled in my position while I was out left my office in complete disarray. Reports that needed to be completed and submitted littered my desk, fast food wrappers and empty water and soda bottles scattered on the floor next to the trash—which was ironic since we work in the sanitation department for the town—other documents that weren’t properly filed away. The list goes on, but the tidiness of my office was the least of my concerns right now.

I just got off the phone with Mike, one of the new truck drivers we recently hired, telling me he had gotten in an accident with one of the packers. Not only do we have to report it and cover the damage of whatever he hit, we now have to give him a drug test to make sure that he doesn’t have any substances in his system. If he fails said test, we have to let him go, and we cannot afford that right now. Frustrated, I threw my phone on the passenger seat and made my way over to the scene.

When I arrived, the police were already there taking down the information about the accident. I made my way over to Mike; he was visibly shaking as his nerves were most likely on the fritz. “Alright,” I sighed, “tell me what happened.”

Mike takes the brim of his hat in his hand and pulls it off, scratching the back of his head nervously. “I’m so sorry, Liv. I was switching lanes,” he motioned towards the truck, “and didn’t see the car in my mirror. Clipped the corner of his car and he went flying into the telephone pole there.” I looked over to said telephone pole, and sure enough, there was a white sedan crunched up against it. I bring my hand to my forehead, tipping my head back in frustration—that car was mangled, and we were most certainly paying for a new one.

“Is the owner hurt?” I asked, looking behind him to see if there was an ambulance on scene. He shrugged, “Said he was fine, insisted he didn’t need to go to the ER.” I pursed my lips, waving my hand as if to say, ‘oh well’. “That’s his own problem, then.” If the driver tries to get looked at after the report, he can’t claim it as part of the accident—which was foolish on his end.

I sucked in a deep breath, “Well,” I exhaled harshly, “you know what’s coming, right?” “Yep,” he nods dejectedly. That right there worried me; his demeanor projected that he was going to fail the drug test. “I’m getting fired, aren’t I?” “Well, that depends. Are you going to fail the drug test?” He knits his eyebrows and cocks his head in confusion, “Drug test?” “Yeah,” I laughed nervously. “We’re required to test you when you get in an accident. If you fail, you get the boot.” His face relaxes and he straightens up, “Oh, no—” “Heather Feather!”

My stomach immediately churns and the hair at the nape of my neck stands on-end with anxiety. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to brace myself for the interaction that was about to happen. When I opened them, there stood Darren, his lips pulled into a smug smirk. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he says sweetly. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s part of my job to assess the scene of an accident.” “Right, right,” he nods slowly, then gives Mike a once-over. “So, this would be one of the guys you’re training? Do you even know how to drive trash trucks?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Darren, what the fuck are you even doing here?” He laughs, “That’s no way to speak to a civilian.” I shot daggers at him, urging him to continue. “That was my car that this moron hit.”

Of course it was.

“Shoulda hit you harder,” I mumbled to myself. He cups his ear, turning it towards me. “I’m sorry, what was that?” “I don’t have time for this,” I groaned and brushed past him. “By the way, don’t talk about my employees like that,” I shouted over my shoulder. “Yeah, real professional, Heather! Gonna go follow in daddy’s footsteps and drink on the job?” I ball my hands into fists and grit my teeth, doing everything in my power to not turn around and punch him square in the jaw. He knows how much my father’s illness took a toll on me, and to throw that in my face was beyond disgusting. It was vile—how could you say that to someone?

When I returned to my work truck, I threw my fist into the door, imagining it was Darren’s face. “Fuck!” I yelped out in pain, curling my hand into my chest as tears sprung to my eyes. After a minute of breathing deep to try and alleviate the pain, I took a gander at my now bloodied hand. It was throbbing and beginning to swell already, but I didn’t think there was any real damage to it. I hopped into the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel, promptly banging my head against it in frustration.

Darren was right—I wanted nothing more than to drink a bottle to my face to rid the anger I had flowing in my veins. As if on autopilot, I drove myself down to the nearest liquor store, parked around the corner and took off my hi-vis vest before I went inside to buy a bottle. When I got back into the truck, I stared at the vodka in my shaking hands as I anticipated the relief I was about to feel. There was nothing that calmed my nerves more, other than Noah.

Noah.

I was a few days over a month sober, and he had just made it a point to show me how proud he was because of it. That day was so special—I could recall the glimmer in his eyes as he held me, the radiant smile he brandished when we made ourselves official, the detail of making damn near everything red and how he brushed my tears away when I felt I was undeserving. To have him go above and beyond for me and then have me ruin it by opening this bottle would be insulting to him. To us. Just picturing his smile falter and his eyes lose their shine was enough to make me dump the booze out and toss the bottle in the nearest trash. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t do this to myself.

I had been so tired when I got home, the first thing that I did was kick off my work boots and grab a pack of frozen peas for my hand. I threw myself on my couch and held the peas against my knuckles, sighing with relief as it began to soothe the ache. I shut my eyes and rested my head against the back of the couch just as someone knocked on my door. “It’s open!” I called out, too tired to move. The door opens and softly clicks shut, and I knew that it was Noah without having to open my eyes just by the sound of his footsteps. “Hey,” he greets me gently, kissing me on my forehead. I smile and hum lightly, opening my eyes to him standing behind me. He flashes me a warm smile, but it quickly falters as he averts his eyes down to my hand. “What happened to your hand?” I snort as I recalled my stupidity from earlier, rolling my head back and forth on the cushion. “Oh, nothing. Just hit my hand at work.” I wasn’t lying—I did hit my hand at work.

He scrunches his lips to the side, not buying my story, but chooses not to press it. He held up a shopping bag that I hadn’t noticed, “I brought something to cook for dinner.” I sat up and turned towards him, “Really? You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him with an appreciative smile. He shrugs, his lips curling at the corners, “I know, but I wanted to. It’s something simple, but how does chicken fettuccine Alfredo sound so you?” “Sounds like I’m starving,” I giggle and stand up, following him into the kitchen after I gave him my approval.

I brought out the kitchenware that he needed but gave him his space as he denied my assistance with dinner. I sat myself on the kitchen island, admiring how comfortable he seemed while cooking. He had his hair pulled into a messy bun, allowing me to see the corner of his mouth, forming into a smug grin as he hummed to himself. He knew how to time everything perfectly as he cooked; he threw the Alfredo sauce on the pasta just as he was finishing up sizzling the chicken breast. After he sliced it into thin strips and tossed it into the pot, he turned around with two plates in his hand and cocks his head towards the kitchen table.

The act of kindness warmed my heart, even if it was as simple as cooking dinner. I’ve never had a significant other cook me dinner before, so this was completely foreign to me.

“Are you going to eat?” Noah asks me, chuckling. I had been gazing at him, admiring the warmth of his chocolatey eyes and the way a few strands fell loose from his bun and framed his face as he grinned angelically—he was just so perfect. I breathed out a quiet laugh, smiling down at my plate as my cheeks flushed. “Yeah, sorry,” I say as I twirl a bit of pasta on my fork. I groaned with satisfaction once it hit my tongue, earning a snicker from him. “What?” He shakes his head, “Nothing. You’re just cute when you get all shy and start to blush.” I rolled my eyes with an amused smirk.

We ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the peace around us. When we were finished eating, he cleared the table for me and began washing the dishes until I stopped him. He has done far more than enough for me tonight—in general, actually—there was no need for him to do anything else. We bickered for a minute about the dishes, but I eventually convinced him to join me on the couch to watch a movie.

He had his arm draped over my shoulders as I tucked in against his chest. My hand laid across his lap; he grabs it and aimlessly runs his thumb across my wounded knuckles. “You gonna tell me what really happened to your hand?” he asks gently. I picked my head up to look at him, the concern on his face bringing the guilt of the white lie I gave him earlier to the surface. “I may or may not have punched my work truck today.” “And why did you do that?” I put my head back down on his chest, avoiding his eyes as I mumbled, “Work sucks.” “I know,” he sings in tune of “All the Small Things”, earning a laugh from the both of us.

“I’m sorry, Liv. Why’d you feel the need to punch your truck, though?” he asks as he picks my hand up and kisses my knuckles one by one. “One of the guys hit a car today,” I sighed as I recalled the events from earlier. “And of course, the car just so happened to be Darren’s.” I felt his body tense briefly. “He said some unkind things to me.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “What did he say?” I felt my stomach flip when I heard Darren’s words in my head again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “He asked me if I was going to drink on the job like my dad.”

I swear I could feel the rage surge through Noah. He fists both hands, letting go of mine and brings his left to his face. I looked up at him; he turned his head away from me, but I could see that his jaw was clenched as he held his fist against his lips. He was bouncing his leg, which made me sit up and turn my body towards him.

“Noah,” I say softly as I pull his hand away from his face, guiding him to look my way. “It’s okay, they’re just words.” “No, it’s not okay,” he retorts sternly. “Your father just died, and he says that to you?” “He probably didn’t know—” He shakes his head, “Stop. Don’t defend him, it was completely uncalled for!” “Noah, I promise it’s okay—” He motions towards my hand, “But it caused you to hurt your hand. That’s not okay.” I palmed his face between both hands, having him look me in the eye. “I punched the door instead of drinking, Noah. Believe me, I wanted to drink.” I laughed at my foolish actions, “I even bought the booze, but I dumped it out. I thought about how happy you were for me and what you did, and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you by relapsing.”

I watched his face soften as he took in my words, an inkling of a smile forming on his lips. He sighs and closes his eyes, nodding slightly before he pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m sorry that motherfucker said that to you and I’m sorry that you hurt your hand, but I am so proud of you, Liv.” He huffs after a moment, “I really hate to be a huge letdown right about now, but there’s a reason I cooked dinner for you tonight.”

My heart jumps into my throat with anxiety as I break away from him, my mind racing as I wondered what it was he needed to tell me. I searched his eyes—they seemed almost remorseful for what he was about to say.

“We’re going on another tour soon, and I wanted to discuss it with you over dinner. You looked so happy, I didn’t want to bring it up and ruin the moment,” he gives me a sympathetic smile. I closed my eyes and nodded sadly, my heart now sinking to the pit of my stomach. He places a hand on my cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb. “I promise to call you every day, okay? When shit gets tough, you call me. I won’t do what I did last time.” “Okay,” I whispered, disappointed and unsure of what else to say.

He pulls me into another embrace, my head on his chest as he rubs the back of my head. I wanted nothing more than to relish the feel of him and burn it into me so I could feel it while he was out on tour. I breathed in his calming cedar wood aroma, listened to his steady heartbeat, focused on his fingers kneading into my hair as I relaxed on him. He lies down on the couch, pulling me on top of him and wraps an arm around me securely while still playing with my hair.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I kept telling myself that it wasn’t going to be the end of the world. It might be tough on some days, but I’ll make it through just fine. I’m sure of it.

Noah

Hearing Olivia say that she almost relapsed after being back at work for only a few days really had me worried. Although it was flattering having her tell me she stayed sober because of me, I wanted her to stay sober for herself. I was proud of her for doing so nonetheless, but I was still apprehensive to not be around in case she really needed me.

I tried my best to calm my racing mind by focusing on packing everything that I needed for the next month or so. My mind was still going a mile a minute—I picked up my suitcase and dumped it back out on my bed to re-pack it as a way to further distract myself. “Dude, what are you doing?” I shook my head and dropped the shirt I had in my hands to look at Nicholas. “I don’t even know,” I laughed at myself. “Just making sure I didn’t under or over pack, I guess.” “Riiight,” he quirks an eyebrow as he crosses the room. He claps a hand on my shoulder, “What’s up? You’ve been distant lately.” I picked up the shirt again, fanning it out in front of me before folding it and tossing it aggressively into the suitcase. Groaning, I threw my head back before plopping myself down in the beanbag chair. I sighed, running a hand down my face. “I’m just nervous. It’s a longer tour this time around.” “So? You’ve always said that you like to keep busy. What are you so nervous about?”

I shrugged, resting my head on the chair to stare at the ceiling in hopes of dropping the conversation. I heard him sit in my gaming chair and wheel it over to me. I look up to see him leaning forward with his hands clasped together between his legs, staring at me. He watches me, his face made of stone as he waits for me to crack. “Alright,” I huffed, giving in, and slap my thighs as I sit up, “I’m just worried about Liv.” He sighs, “Dude, you can’t let that get to you. She’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.” I rubbed the back of my neck, “I dunno. She almost had a drink a few days after she went back to work.” He cringes as I continue, “She said she didn’t because she thought of me, which is great and all, but I’m not gonna be around. I want her to stay sober for herself, not me.” He pursed his lips into a line as he nods his head slowly, now understanding my concern.

He raises his eyebrows as he straightens up, waving his index finger in the air. “I have an idea. It might be a little silly, but it’s worth a shot.” “I’m listening.” “If, for right now, she needs to think of you for an anchor, why don’t you leave things scattered around her place for her to find?” I furrow my brows in confusion, “What kind of things?” “You know,” he waves his hand, gesturing around my room. “Things of yours, or little things that’ll make her think of you. Notes, clothes, random sentimental shit.” I pondered for a minute, nodding as I absorbed and liked the idea. Who knew my best friend could be so smart?

|Chapter 17|

#noah sebastian #bad omens band #bad omens #fanfic writing #fan fiction #fanfic #romance

[dougielombax]

Alright.

Behold my anti-sex music playlist!

For music that just won’t work when you’re planning on doing it.

Not saying any of these songs are bad. Just that they won’t be good for sex.

In my mind…

Here they are:

1. Chumbawumba - Tubthumping.

2. Blarf - Banana

3. Eric Andre & the Last Seed - Beef Patty

4. Midge Ure - The Man Who Sold the World (OH NO. NOT ME)

5. The Serbian National Anthem! (Bože pravde) - by I Don’t Fucking Know. (Yes I’m serious)

6.Geometry Dash theme tune

7. My Country ‘Tis of Thee (Boston Pops version)

8. Peaches - Fuck the Pain Away

9. That FUCKING Pina Colada song!

10. Aerosmith - I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing

11. Otis Redding - Shake

12. The Trashmen - Surfin’ Bird

13. Liberty Bell March - John Philip Sousa

14. That weird boingy Delaware version of the Dr Who theme what was only used once in the Australian broadcast of Carnival of Monsters.

15. Swans - She Loves Us

16. The Platters - My Prayer (for any David Lynch fans, if you know, YOU KNOW!)

17. Grieg - In the Hall of the Mountajn King (it HAS to be the Portsmouth sinfonia version)

18. Georg Friedrich Handel - Hallelujah Chorus from Messiah (also the Portsmouth Sinfonia version, ideal for maximum awkwardness)

19. 1800 Pain - Hurt

20. Weezer - Buddy Holly

21. ANYTHING by Nickelback (especially Photograph (LOOK AT THIS FUCKEN’ SHIT!) or Rockstar)

22. The Cure - Friday I’m in Love

23. Nine Inch Nails - Mr Self Destruct (only an animal could fuck to this!)

24. Hanggai - Drinking song (this is actually a fucking banger but still)

25. Jamie Christopherson - The Stains of Time (except every single lyric is AND IT WILL COME)

26. Babylon Zoo - Spaceman

27. Suede - Filmstar

28. Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart (on full blast)

29. Ligeti - Lux Aeterna (may induce existential crises)

30. Korngold - Theme from King’s Row

31. AJCW - Wonderland (very loud, this is some cosmic horror shit)

32. Girl Talk - Play Your Part (Pt 1.)

33. Akira Yamaoka - Black Fairy

34. Ludvig Forssell -204863

35. Bach - Chorale BWV 645 (slow instrumental organ/trombone version)

36. Akira Yamaoka - My Heaven

37. Kikagaku Moyo - Dripping Sun (the beat drop at the end is some next level shit)

38. Carpenter Brut - Le Perv

39. Dawn of the Dead - The Gonk

40. de Wolfe music - Lubricator

41. Wizzard - I Wish it could be Christmas Every Day

42. Venetian Snares - All the Children are Dead

43. Van McCoy - Do the Hustle

44. Roy Orbison - In Dreams (look, it’s a great tune, but still).

45. Smash Mouth - Walking on the Sun

46. Mansion Basement - Resident Evil Director’s Cut Soundtrack

47. Happy Days (as in the main theme tune from Happy Days!)

48. Exhumed - As Hammer to Anvil

49. Muddy Magnolias - American Woman (David Lynch Remix) (if you fuck to this then you are legally not a human, you are a CREATURE)

50. Sonny Terry - Old Lost John

51. Hanatarash - My Dad is Car (VERY LOUD!)

52. Clubbed to Death (instrumental)

53. Jerry Manolas - Midnight Dream

54. Guided by Voices - Game of Pricks

55. Ludvig Forssell - Death Stranding theme tune

56. Glenn Miller - In the Mood

57. Venetian Snares - Winnipeg is Fucking Over

58. BJ Thomas - Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head.

59. Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff

60. Huun Huur Tu - Eerbek Aksy

61. Whitney Houston - I'm Your Baby Tonight

62. Mussorgsky - The Great Gate of Kiev

63. Low Roar - Give Up

64. Ludwig Van Beethoven - Rage Over a Lost Penny

65. Neon Indian - Slumlord’s Release

66. The Caretaker - All You are Going to want to Do is Get Back There.

67. Horace Heidt - This Time It’s Real (instrumental - slowed down)

68. BluntedBeatz - I Am

69. Eddie Vedder - Out of Sand

70. Olga Wojciechowska - Remember When the Light Came (unfortunately I can’t find it ANYWHERE!)

71. Blarf - The Me in Me

72. Chuck Person - Lightning Strikes

73. Polkas y Huapangos - Los Dos Laredos. (Pretty sure you legally CANNOT fuck to this)

74. Tom Jones - What’s New Pussycat (VERY LOUDLY)

75. Merzbow - Ultramarine Blue

76. Fool’s Garden - Lemon Tree (I NEED Wes Anderson to use this song in his next film! FIND A WAY to get him to do it!)

77. Big Brother Theme Tune

78. Fanfare Vagabontu - Batuta Din Moldova

79. Lvovsky - Now the Powers of Heaven

80. Tuvan Ensemble - Arbyn Ossun

81. Weird Al - EBay song

82. Marathon 2 main theme (I mean come ON!)

83. Electric Light Orchestra - Mr Blue Sky (SHUT UP!!!!)

84. My Chemical Romance- Famous Last Words

85. Van Halen - Panama

86. Powermad - Slaughterhouse

87. Bjork - It’s Oh so Quiet

88. Sigur Rós - Hoppípolla

89. Richard Strauss - Zueignung (specifically the version performed by Jessye Norman (RIP))

90. Apollo 100 - Joy (especially if you speed it up)

91. Carol Anne McGowan - Sycamore Trees (look it’s beautiful but you cannot fuck to it!)

92. Brian Eno - Weightless

93. Jean Sibelius - Symphony no 2.

94. Handel - Hallelujah Chorus (as performed by the Portsmouth Sinfonia)

95. The White Buffalo - I Know You (it’s a great piece of music but it’s really depressing)

96. Rednex - Cotton Eye Joe

97. Men Without Hats - The Safety Dance

98. Blink 182 - I Miss You. (WHERE ARE YEEEEEEEW)

99. Francis Stanfield - O Sacred Heart. (Yes I know it’s a Catholic hymn! That’s the point!)

100. Surasshu - The Penis (Eek!)

101. Non Phixion - The CIA is Trying to Kill Me

102. All-American Rejects - Move Along (SHUT UP! It’s a good song but come on)

103. Big Data - Bombs Over Brooklyn (their curiosity for learning has skyrocketed)

104. Adam & the Ants - Stand and Deliver

105. Animal Collective - Derek

106. Ludwig Van Beethoven. Symphony no. 5. Movement 1.

107. Hong Kong 97 Soundtrack - I Love Beijing Tiananmen.

108. Mr Bean animated series theme tune (piano, obviously).

109. John Williams - The Immolation Scene. (From the Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith soundtrack)

110. Ludwig Van Beethoven. Again. - Ode to Joy. Symphony no 9. Movement 4.

111. Vague003 - Tonight

112. Tchaikovsky - Serenade for Strings in C Major Op. 48.

113. Old Gods of Asgard - Take Control

114. Zbigniew Preisner - Lacrimosa, Day of Tears

115. AJCW - Fog Horm

#personal stuff #dougie rambles #music #playlist #feel free to reblog #anti-sex playlist #Dougie talks about music #Dougie’s playlists #playlists #music playlist #reblog this #lists #my lists #Dougie makes a list #Tonight we fuck music #or not

[love-and-socialism]

DnD campaign misadventures

I rescued this thread from my non-defunct twttr detailing my last campaign in DnD, because it was probably the best things I ever posted on there. So now it’s going on here.

Tonight in DnD, my character crit failed a stealth check and fell down the stairs, spilling ball bearings everywhere. #smooth

However, the adrenaline rush resulted in a series of 20s in combat. #stabby

2. Last night in DnD adventures, we smashed a frozen half-man half-bull creature that bequeathed us a key from its remains.

Me: looks like it's a musical one.

Me: it was a key in A minor-taur

@abbynormal0ne: I will KILL you

3. Tonight in DnD adventures, after killing a couple of piscine-type jailers, we found a scared human in a cell. To put them at ease, @abbynormal0ne put her hand in a skull like a puppet and went "HELLO! DON'T BE AFRAID! WE'RE NICE PEOPLE!"

Surprisingly they were not reassured.

4. Tonight in DnD adventures, we stab a rapier into this guy that makes a gurgling sound akin to the apex of the bit in a certain song by The Trashmen.

"Looks like.. blood.. is the word."

@abbynormal0ne: "Just one more time I stg."

5. Tonight in DnD, @abbynormal0ne summons a mammoth-type creature and I jump on its back while we're murdering the sahuagin sea creatures. It crit fails while trying to skewer one of them, breaking its spiky, natural weapon.

"I guess he wasn't.. up to the tusk."

6. Last night in DnD, the last sahuagin, bloodied & battered mutters "mercy". I ponder this, before firing a crossbow bolt through the back of his throat. "Looks like no mer-sea for this chap."

@abbynormal0ne, exhausted, wiping fish flesh from her face "I think he wanted mercy from your prattle."

7. After losing half of my health to a lightning strike from this dragon, I jumped on the back of the scaly bastard and shanked them.

"Now who's doing shocking behaviour."

We'll be having dragon bbq for weeks.

8. Tonight in DnD! We were in an asylum, trying to get info from a surly orderly. She was not forthcoming. And even less so when I asked "is there like a merch shop where I can get one of those natty white jumpers?"

9. Tonight in DnD! I have to disguise myself bc I've gone back to a place I'm wanted. And not in the good way. @abbynormal0ne suggests a costume. I acquire a hat of disguise.

DM: what do you look like now?

Me: This incarnation of Demis Roussos! Right down to the glitter boots!

10. The other night in DnD! @abbynormal0ne asked a shopkeep for a particular potion, seud in blue. Amazingly they had two of them. I took them and put in my footwear for safe-keeping.

"Don't step on my blue seud shoes." I warn her. She asks the shopkeep for a poison. I'm not sure if it's for me or for her.

11. Last night in DnD! We get asked by the big cheese of New Seaton if our party has a collective name...

MisinterPirates

One hour later and this is the best that we came up with jfc hahahaha

12. We decide to rescue some slaves from a sinking ship. We are attacked by a big fuck off shark that takes a decent chunk out of my torso. Ouch. "Can I just fey step back onto my boat?" I can.

"TTFN, you pointy-teethed dickhead!"

After one round of shooting at this chompy bastard. I finally find a use for my two-handed trident and full of gusto (the name of the wine) foolheartedly jump BACK into the water, stabbing the shark like a mad vaulter.

"This will surely fin-ish you off!"

It did not. Whoops.

#DnD #DnD5e #DnD misadventures #puns

[hildaferguson93]

Ercilia Marroquin is an old woman now, requiring thick eyeglasses to see and an occasional reminder about what she has said and done.  There are whole chunks of life that time has taken from her, but sometimes she reclaims the missing in her dreams.  She can see her eldest daughter, Reyna, the bright one with adventure in her bones. The beautiful one she taught to sew and cook and follow her heart, even though it meant leaving El Salvador for New York 33 years ago.

"I had a dream about her," Marroquin said Friday standing on the porch of her home in San Martin, El Salvador. "She was trapped inside a barrel. She was falling."

There's never any conclusion. But today that vision is chilling testament to intuition or imagination or awful coincidence, for as the 94-year-old woman found out Friday, Reyna Angelica Marroquin was the mummified, pregnant woman found Sept. 3 inside a 55-gallon drum in a crawlspace of a Jericho home. Nassau County homicide detectives believe she was beaten and crammed into the container three decades ago, probably by Howard Elkins, her lover and boss at the Manhattan plastic flower factory where she worked. Elkins, who lived in the house with his wife until moving to Florida in 1972, committed suicide three weeks ago after admitting to Nassau detectives he had an affair with a worker in the 1960s.

"So much suffering my little girl must have been through," Ercilia Marroquin said, after she saw a copy of a newspaper account of the gruesome case that has drawn front-page headlines from Florida to Long Island but had not reached the small town about 10 miles outside of San Salvador. Seeing her daughter's picture, her face frozen in time in the 1966 immigration photo, the elderly woman collapsed sobbing into the arms of two relatives.

"I lived with hope that I would hear from her one day," she said. "My heart is destroyed." For 30 years, those who knew Reyna Marroquin wanted to believe something else about her fate. Even when their efforts at finding her failed, when it seemed beyond doubt she had vanished amid a troubling extramarital affair with her boss, they still harbored hope. "All of our lives we have lived with this emptiness," said Adelina Melendez, a cousin who lives in Brentwood. "We always asked 'What happened to Reyna?' Every time we saw one of those programs where mysteries are solved, I always thought one day we would be able to solve Reyna's mystery."

Elkins shot himself before giving police much information about the case and detectives are still investigating whether his DNA matches that of the unborn baby. His family has repeatedly declined to be interviewed. But even with some of the most troubling questions about Reyna's fate unanswered, her trajectory from El Salvador to the United States is tragic: She fled one soured relationship only to fall into another. And in the end, this may have cost her her life.

...

For three decades, Andrade and the Marroquins could cling to these hopes. That Reyna had fled, trying once again to clean the slate. That she had grown cross with her family and would one day come back around. That she was alive, at least.

For three decades though, Reyna Marroquin was sitting carefully folded inside an airtight barrel, a whole world going on above the 36-inch crawlspace where she had been shoved away from time. Two homeowners found no reason to move the 345-pound drum. And Reyna could have remained mummified for years more, if not for a family who moved into the split-level home in Jericho last month and had the seller set the barrel out as garbage.

When the trashmen refused to take it and the barrel was pried opened there on the treelined curb of Forest Drive, 30 years of mystery began to leak out. "God help her," Ercilia Marroquin said. "... I don't care if they send me ashes or dust as long as my daughter is finally back here with me."

#psychic

[dcviated]

smash or pass :: open

send it plus a name and the receiving muse has to answer with 100% honesty

@petalseas sent: Smash or Pass + Caelus. ; that guy who always dig trashcans... (For Eira!)

Speaking of which, he's ... probably thinking of doing it right now, isn't he? Just as the individual was called out to Eira. Their eyes are not on the book in their hands, or anything proper of the surroundings. Let alone Eira herself. No, they're looking wistfully at the can in the corner.

Eira's lip curls in disgust.

"PASS! What sort of hobby or interest is that? I won't besmirch the work that trashmen do- yet to forage through them as some sort of sport is... it's just filthy! I don't want him near me!"

#petalseas #inbox :: answered ic #muse :: eira #verse :: ??? #there was never a chance with that opener...

[northvewor]

Rob zombie hellbilly deluxe 2 album

It doesn’t give “Hellbilly Deluxe” or “Sinister Urge” a run for their money, but it does deserve a place on the shelf.Love him or hate him as a director or as a musician, Rob Zombie shows no signs of closing the door on either of his creative endeavors anytime soon. For all its faults, the album is much more in line with what I have come to hope for from Rob Zombie. That said, I’m comfortable saying that I like “Hellbilly Deluxe 2.” I’m not in love with it, but I like it. John 5 is a very talented player, but lacks the same true grit as his predecessor. Even if Tempestra, Riggs and Blasko did not help record all parts of “Hellbilly Deluxe” or “Sinister Urge” the change in Zombie’s musical style since their departure is undebatable. Zombie and Scum of the Earth have become like Soulfly and Sepultura, or split halves of the Sword of Grayskull. The latter three, now known as “Scum of the Earth,” haven’t been able to equal the success of their former career, either in terms of quality or sales. Rob Zombie and his “classic” band (Tempesta, Riggs, Blasko,) sorely miss each other. How fitting that Zombie’s tinkering would have adverse effects no matter what medium he’s working in. It puts a huge scar down the middle of an otherwise perfect piece. Truthfully, there’s nothing special about it. In a decision I will never understand, and makes me want to pull my hair out in frustration, Zombie decided to break the song up with a drum solo. It’s edgy, filled with Zombie’s trademark high-ceilinged production, accompanied by an orchestral score, perfect for mosh pits….but. If the listener were on the fence about “Hellbilly Deluxe 2,” this musical parting shot would have made you walk away happy. The song wants to be, and nearly is, the gem of the entire album. The album’s closer is “The Man Who Laughs.” This single song serves as a brief telling of Rob Zombie’s entire musical career. The song is another fast-paced channeling of the Ramones, and is again more in the spirit of the original “Hellbilly Deluxe” (or at least “Sinister Urge.”) Oddly enough, as much as “Werewolf Women of the SS” is another self-service piece for Zombie, it’s also where the music is most comfortable, as it’s tight and never forced or loaded with inane nonsense. Immediately following that is the song you all knew was coming, which is “Werewolf Women of the SS.” You just knew Zombie couldn’t leave that project alone, and would cram it into as many things as he could. “Cease to Exist” is a much more typically macabre song that Zombie aficionados will instantly be in tune with. It’s almost as if he got done with all the gimmicks he wanted to do on the album, and then having nothing else to write, returned to form. The back half of the album is stronger than the first, as Zombie returns closer to his musical roots. There are moments when Zombie channels the Zombie of old, and reaches way back into his bag of tricks to grab a dirge like the very deep, very ugly “Virgin Witch,” or the slightly more stylized “Burn.” The latter is subsequently eyebrow-raising in that it seems Rob steals the chorus from the last half of The Trashmen’s 1963 super-classic “Surfin’ Bird.” No, I’m not joking. “Werewolf, Baby” is just further proof that Zombie can’t quite forget his fascination with trailer park riffs and southern rock influences as a whole. I like the riff in “Mars Needs Women,” but the overall execution is kind of drab, and doesn’t possess any urgency or punch. “Mars Needs Women” and “Werewolf, Baby” I could live without. The album’s single is “What?” which I must admit I find addicting, even if it does sound like a metal cover of some long forgotten ? and the Mysterians song. The next two are not as engaging, as “Sick Bubble-Gum” is repetitive and feels forced. The insistence on an acoustic guitar between verses breaks up the song in an unnatural way, but the album is off to a good enough start. “Jesus Frankenstein” is a thundering open to the album, and has a good deal of promise, even though it never flows as easily as “Superbeast” or “Demon Speeding” did at the beginning of previous albums. The album’s not perfect, but it is a refreshing breath from Zombie. This new album is several magnitudes of order better than “Educated Horses.” I’m not exactly going out on a limb by saying that, but there it is. After a few years away directing movies, out comes “Hellbilly Deluxe 2,” finally debuting after two lengthy delays from the time of recording in 2008. “Hellbilly Deluxe” and “Sinister Urge” were both modern masterpieces, and then “Educated Horses” was a confusing, muddled mess of an album. At this point, I had no idea what to expect from Rob Zombie.

#Rob zombie hellbilly deluxe 2 album

[wmctutorbuddies]

Ice Breaker:

Zach 

Best:

Born to be Wild - Steppenwolf

I Want you Back - Jackson 5

Twist and Shout - The Beatles

Worst:

Tiptoe Through the Tulips - Tiny Tim

Cherish - The Association

Revolution 9 - The Beatles 

Tiffany

Best:

Moon River - Audrey Hepburn

Who’s Loving You - Jackson 5

My Girl - The Temptations

Worst:

Speedy Gonzalez - Pat Boone

Surfin’ Bird - The Trashmen 

I’m Henry the VIII, I Am - Herman’s Hermits

Questions Answered:

Yes! We both thoroughly enjoy the Temptations as well as the Jackson 5. 

Zach discovered that Tiffany has a heart for music of almost every era. Tiffany discovered that Zach can sing well… and has a soft spot for the oldies.

Q&A:

New Tutor: 

What style of citation was the most difficult for you, and what did you do to better understand that style?

A: 

The most difficult citation style was Chicago because it was a really lengthy process that I was not familiar with — it felt very tedious. I was able to improve my knowledge of Chicago style citations by making an appointment with an experienced tutor who walked through the nuances and helped me better understand the overall structure of Chicago. 

Experienced Tutor:

One thing I wished I knew when I started working at the WMC was how lengthy the process of a literature review was, but I learned and now I have a better understanding of the lit review. 

New tutors: 

How did you spark engagement with the students when working in small groups?

A:

I was able to do so by personally introducing myself to each individual person, while better getting to know them. I was also able to tell them each personally about where the WMC could help them with their assignments.

Experienced Tutor (Advice): 

It is okay to have “off-days”. Sometimes I felt like during my first year of being an EMT I was not able to accomplish everything I wanted right away due to the overall academic stress of college. Be sure to take care of yourself throughout your first year of doing EMT work. To sum it up: have grace with yourself while still also committing to being there for the students. 

Both new and experienced tutors:

We can support each other by being open and communicative throughout this semester. By doing so, we can better understand each other’s issues and be able to work through whatever problems arise. New tutors can remind experienced tutors of the basics, while experienced tutors can help new tutors transition into a more long-term view.

#submission

[chimchimcheerios]

The Philippes are lowkey horrible sometimes.

I love them so much.

#what is it with me an trashmen #They are both such a mess #especially Philippe I #like #don't go to war kids #versailles #versailles show #versailles series #versailles tv #chevalier de Lorraine #philippe d'orléans #talking bout the show not irl btw

[x-heesy]

https://song.link/s/6TKkqpxLxcnygcC5I8BY1s

#the trashmen #bbbbird #music #spotify #now playing #shake what your mama gave ya #drop beatz no bombs 💣 #unknown artist #fav fav fav #makes me happy #makes me wanna dance #7/2020 #x-heesy

[locria-writes]

hi i really like ur stories and all these morally fucked boys. About abea, since most the ROs are pretty morally grey I'm curious if the secret RO would be considered objectively worse than the other characters by most people? Like are his actions and personality just more trash from every angle, or is it that he's the exact kind of bad person you hate/ your personality pet peeves?

all right, first off, we gotta get some trashman theory straight before we dive into this --

i think what makes most trashmen somewhat likable, or at least palatable, is their unapologetic-ness when it comes to their bad choices/assholery/hypocrisy. they don't wallow in self-pity over their morality, nor do they ever pretend to be good, moral, upstanding men. they're trash, they know it, they own it.

secret ro on the other hand, lacks that. he can't accept the fact that he's not the hero in this. he self-victimizes, wallows in self-pity, suffers from extreme moral myopia, and gets shocked when his awful decisions come back to bite him in the ass. he isn't a bad person, which is what makes him so insufferable to me. he could've been a great guy, but noooo he chose to make these bad choices and to make himself suffer.

tl;dr fuck this self-righteous wannabe martyr known as secret ro

#a broken ever after #abea secret romance #i like my trash unapologetic okay gimme the dubcon without the apologies that's a turnoff

[mayhemofmusesarchive]

☎️⭐️🍵 (For Fizz and Luci? :3)

                Now I know there's something more（○・▽・○）人（●・▽・●）ノ

Fizzarolli;

Send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent).

Name: Birb Ringtone: Surfin’ Bird by The Trashmen Picture:

Last Text: [Fizzarolli] :o)                    [Octavia] What the bloody hell is that suppose to be? A clown emoji? Wait.. How did you get my number?!                   [Fizzarolli] :o) Wanna hear a funny joke, princess?

Send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses.

Well, it’s probably apparent that once Fizzarolli has found out that Octavia likes puns and jokes, he’ll probably find a way to use them whenever he can. He won’t go overboard of course-- don’t want things to get stagnant ( or for her to start to find him boring because hey no, can’t have that, can’t have her finding some other replacement or things like that-- no no that’s not a secret fear of his, what are you talking about?? ). He’ll pull pranks on her ( harmless ones mind you because he doesn’t want to tarnish the progress he’s made ), gags, maybe even riddles. He wants to see her smile and hear her laugh again.

Once they go to Stylish Occult, Fizzarolli would probably buy not only clothes for himself but for Octavia as well. Hell, he’d probably buy whatever she wanted. He may have a dumb habit of liking to spoiling his friends in an effort to keep them around or to get them to like him better. Does he have an underlying need to please others unconsciously? No. Don’t be silly.

Fizzarolli is use to performing for Royals and the likes, but despite that-- he wouldn’t treat Octavia like she’s above him. Maybe to a fault because of programming, but for the most part, he’d treat her as just as he would anyone else, so if he ends up caring for her in some manner she’ll be stuck with robot clown which is both a good and bad thing depending on how you look at it. Good because if someone is bothering her / giving her a hard time, Fizz won’t hesitate to jump in and knock whoever is it out. The way he sees things, only he can bother her and give her a hard time. No one else. Oh.. There you go. That’s the bad thing.

Send 🍵 and my muse will reveal one of their biggest regrets involving yours.

Honestly? Probably spooking her, but then again-- it wasn’t really his fault. He wasn’t the one that forced her to the front of the crowd. He was just doing his job and well, he can’t help that he’s scary-looking. Not his fault he was sparking and in bad condition back then either. He’s in a lot better state now ( frame wise ), so he hopes that he can at least amend their relationship some because he does really like her. He adores her spunky attitude and how she’s not afraid to speak her mind. 

Lucifer Magne;

Send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent).

Name: Octavia Ringtone: Crazy Frog - Axel F - Metal Guitar Cover by Kfir Ochaion Picture:

Last Text: [Lucifer] Is rather warm today isn’t it?                   [Octavia] It is. Why do you ask?                   [Octavia] Something just hit my window... Lucifer, did you.. did you throw a water balloon at my window??                   [Lucifer] You have two choices. Either you come and join me-- OR the next balloon comes through your window! >:)

Send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses.

Considering that Lucifer knew Octavia since she was young, I like to think that perhaps whenever he would come over to visit sometimes, she would instantly come over and pat at his legs, asking to be picked up ( you know-- typical baby stuff ) and of course, her parents would probably think oh no no, don’t bother him ( because yeah, that’s the King of Hell ), but they tend to forget sometimes he was a dad as well, so he just picks her up and holds her while carrying on with the conversation while she messes with his hair, hat-- whatever she can reach.

There was probably a few toys he brought to life for her as well since that’s what he did with Charlotte. Probably baked her some sweets as well. Being around her greatly reminded Lucifer of his daughter so-- it was sometimes bittersweet to be around her, but he enjoyed it none the less.

Since Lucifer doesn’t care for gender identities and the likes, if Octavia ever needs a distraction he is more than open to the idea of shopping for dresses, getting manicures and so on. He doesn’t care and if anything, enjoys it, especially if it helps her get her mind off things at home.

#starfirevia #starfire-via #﹙ Asᴋs ﹚ Asᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ #﹙ Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ Asᴋs ﹕ Fɪᴢᴢᴀʀᴏʟʟɪ ﹚ #﹙ Hᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴ ﹕ Fɪᴢᴢᴀʀᴏʟʟɪ ﹚ #﹙ Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ Asᴋs ﹕ Lᴜᴄɪғᴇʀ Mᴀɢɴᴇ ﹚ #﹙ Hᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ﹕ Lᴜᴄɪғᴇʀ Mᴀɢɴᴇ ﹚ #TW: Hazbin Hotel / Helluva Boss #((Dear lord why the fuck did this take me almost all day to do?? ;A; I'm so sorry kajenga)) #LONG POST;

[thehypercutstudios]

If Nega Bosses have musical References

Barktholomew - Hungry like the Wolf by Duran Duran

Anjellica - Fun Fun Fun by The Beach Boys

Wormsworth - Build me up Buttercup by The Foundations

Worville Wright - Aces High by Iron Maiden

Cuckoo - Surfin Bird by The Trashmen

Purrla - What’s New Pussycat? by Tom Jones

Fortstopher IV - One Night at Bangkok by Murray Head

The Grim Creeper - Creeping in My Soul by Cryoshell

Princess Marey - Circus by Britney Spears

Inkabelle - Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones

The Hydrac - Serpentine Fire by Earth, Wind & Fire

Hooverton - Invisible Man by Scatman John

#balan wonderworld #bww #balanposting #Barktholomew #Anjellica #Wormsworth #Worville Wright #Cuckoo #Purrla #Fortstopher IV #The Grim Creeper #Princess Marey #Inkabelle #The Hydrac #Hooverton

[serpentinesheldonserpentine]

If life is so hard on me it must be because she is trying to get rid of me. So fuck her I am going to try and live forever

I agree with your viewpoint. I’m too old to die young; my death would provoke a collective shoulder shrug.

So fuck that. Speaking of shoulders, mine are healing and I’m mobile again. And it’s so fun to not give a fuck, I absolutely vote for a long life for you Anon. And for me—not that you asked, but your well wishes were implied.

Remember what Marlo Thomas taught us: we are free to be you and me. And remember also what the Trashmen taught us: The Bird is The Word.

#ask me anything #Oasis

[inactiive-shit]

Electricity

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Masterlist

Warnings: references to past issues, intrusive thoughts, Remus-normal stuff

Pairings: Platonic Intruality, background romantic Royality

Words: 2,224

Summary: Remus is like the clock that still has cogs. He does work. It is just a different kind of working than others are used to. Sometimes, he must be wound, sometimes his gears malfunction and he must be reset. Sometimes people ignore his face for the ones printed in pretty, glowing numbers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus is vibrating.

That’s not some weird metaphor for sex, he’s not alluding to anything that isn’t exactly what he means.

What he means is: his body is running about a million gigawatts through every single atom. How else would you explain the flailing arms, bouncing legs, loud screeching noise that is coming out of his mouth, or the white streak in his hair that he swears wasn’t there yesterday? No, there is no other explanation. Remus is being electrocuted enough to kill an elephant ten times over and he still has the unfortunate luck to not only be living through it but aware of it as well.

Which, really, depending on which Gods he’s currently worshipping, is deserved. Zeus would probably smite him, given half a chance. But that isn’t Remus’s problem until it actually happens, and this isn’t that.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This was one thousand - I’ll raise you two - I’ll raise you three thousand percent electricity made and controlled by Remus’s own brain because sometimes even his body is against him. He can’t always control the bullshit that comes out of his mouth, and sometimes he feels disconnected from his arms when they flail around and accidentally land a gnarly black eye, and do you really think he would keep bouncing a hole through the floor with his leg if he had the choice to just stop for a minute?

But he doesn’t, because things often don’t work out for Remus. It’s just what he’s come to expect. Stupid because he can’t do easy things, nonsensical because he can do hard ones. Confusing because he reads with music on, lying because he can hear your watch ticking from across the room and cannot do simple math with a distraction like that. Uncaring being so impulsive, wrong for trying to be considerate. Always, always, Remus is never enough.

Remus is like the clock that still has cogs. He does work. It is just a different kind of working than others are used to. Sometimes, he must be wound, sometimes his gears malfunction and he must be reset. Sometimes people ignore his face for the ones printed in pretty, glowing numbers.

He doesn’t know who the problem really belongs to, whether he is running too fast for everyone else’s day, so that he has twenty-eight hours for their twenty-four, or if they simply don’t know how to read the time on an analog clock, with it’s spinning hands and whirring parts. He figures there’s not much to figure out about all that, not really. At the end of the day, he is the one out-numbered, he is the one impulsive, he is the one with oxymorons that run like code through his system that works for him and no one else.

Remus is not the problem, he is their problem.

But right now, more specifically, he is Patton’s problem. Roman had left him alone in his house, assuring him that he’d be back in half an hour. Due to some crappy traffic, crashes, making a few other stops, and having his other friends require his help, Remus was still sitting - bouncing off the walls in his house alone when Roman’s fiance Patton got back.

In the twenty minutes proceeding, it’s all been downhill.

“Remus, please stop that,” Patton says, mouth twisted into a politely downturned smile most likely because it’s not the first time he’s said it. This is also not the first thing Remus has done that made Patton ask him to please stop. It doesn’t feel like as much of a win as it usually does with Patton’s genuine if nervous smile when he’d first seen Remus today.

Remus launches the bouncy ball at the wall again, snatching it out of the air before it can shoot away to break one of their overly expensive vases. He grins at Patton, lips pulling a little too wide, and does it one more time, then pockets the ball.

“So so so,” Remus sings, flipping himself upside down on the couch and staring at Patton. “What’s up with you, A-Pat-thy? Get it? Like apathy but-”

“But with my name, yeah,” Patton says. There’s almost a smile on his face, which is not the kind of reaction Remus’s nicknames usually get but he’s not objecting. “Wait here,” Patton says and leaves the living room. Remus takes the ball out of his pocket and puts it in his mouth instead. There’s not much reason to it, just rough and round and in mouth. It has no taste but it feels like stretchy sand, which Remus will make the second he gets the supplies he needs.

“Let me ask you,” Patton says, returning with one hand held behind his back, “how fondue you find puns?” He presents Remus with fondue-covered bread. Remus jumps off the couch, clapping his hands.

“Oh, punderful!” he exclaims, accepting the bread for the olive branch it is. Remus may be a million things that other people have accused him of, but he’s never been dense - as much as Roman would have liked him to notice less. He knows a peace offering when he sees one.

“That’s just too cheesy!” Patton says, really laughing.

“You better be bread-y because there’s more where that came from,” Remus says, pointing at Patton with his bread. He cackles.

“Well, well, well, you better just Skittle on out of here, because puns are my business and you are about to go bake-rupt,” Patton says. He makes finger guns at Remus and Remus collapses back onto the couch, clutching his wounds gravely.

“Oh no, the Sheriff of Punnery has yeasted me again.” Patton wrinkles his nose. “On bested?” Remus asks. He refrains from saying his buns were just too powerful because that can carry connotations and this is his brother’s fiance; he doesn’t want to make things too weird when he actually kind of does want Patton to not-hate him.

“It’s passable,” Patton says. “But I think I out-punned you this round.” They both laugh at the last, unexpected pun of their duel, and Remus has to concede defeat here. He nods acceptingly.

“I must agree. My brother has picked a worthy adversary.” Remus’s leg starts bouncing again now that he’s sitting down, and the electricity is coming back full force so that the air around his skin is crackling with energy he can’t touch. It’s arcing through his veins like molten rocks, leaving behind a desire to jump and scream and move, but his leg bounces and he picks at his nails and chews his lips and tries not to be any more obnoxious than he has to be.

“I have some spaghetti I was going to heat up for dinner,” Patton says. “It’s nothing special, and if I’d known you were coming I would have made something better, but we can split it.”

“That sounds pasta-tively delicious,” Remus says. “I can’t remember the last time I had spaghetti.” Patton laughs and goes back to the kitchen - which, from Remus’s limited understanding of their life, is where Patton lives. He can’t say for sure, but he’s pretty sure Patton is some kind of human-sized brownie that enjoys cooking. Is it technically bestiality that Roman is going to marry him?

Remus is still musing over Patton’s perilous status as human and rubbing the carpet bare with the ball of his foot when Patton returns with two plates of spaghetti. He sits on the couch next to Remus, which is strange. Not many people sit next to Remus if they can help it. He doesn’t say anything though. As much as he’d like to make a crude innuendo or pun (as much as they’re clawing up his throat to be voiced), he will not mess this up. They’ve only just decided to be brothers again, and he won’t fuck up like last time.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks, jolting Remus. He nods hurriedly.

“It tastes better than any gourmet rat I’ve ever had,” he says, shoving another handful in his mouth. Patton’s face twists up again, but Remus can’t and won’t just not talk. “You know, there are a lot less rats in dumpsters than you’d expect to find. And there’s a lot of stuff that’s totally functional that people just throw away. It’s crazy. The world would quit working without trashmen. They can make or break an entire neighborhood. Once, when Roman and I were kids, there was a huge storm on garbage night, ended up with trash all up and down the streets. I don’t know who cleaned it up, but it wasn’t us.” Remus keeps talking until he’s forced to stop to breathe at which point Patton interjects.

“I noticed that you move around a lot.” Remus immediately stops all movement before it picks back up and the intensity increases. “Which is fine,” Patton continues hurriedly, “but I was just wondering if you had heard of something called pressure stimming? It helps me when I start to get restless. I just thought of it because fidgeting that much makes me tired.”

“I have never not ever heard of such a thing,” Remus says, speaking quickly. He flutters a hand through the air and it looks kind of like a drunk hummingbird. Wouldn’t that be an interesting sight? Remus adds it to his to-do list. “What does it entail?”

“You just apply pressure to yourself, like sitting on your legs or something. Or you can do it with another person on a larger scale.”

Remus doesn’t say doing it, huh? How forward of you despite that being the loudest thought in his head for approximately five seconds. “You mean punching people.” Remus nods wisely. Punching is a good way to calm down.

“No!” Patton cries. “Nothing violent! Like cuddling.”

“Yeah,” Remus says slowly, “I have no idea what you mean.” He lifts a shoulder nonchalantly and shoves another handful of spaghetti into his mouth. But then his plate is lifted out of his lap and he looks up into Patton’s eyes, much closer now than he had been a few seconds ago.

“What’re you doing?” Remus whines, watching his plate leave him with all the regret he can summon.

“Can we cuddle?” Patton asks. “Like, platonically?”

“Uhm, sure?” Remus says. Patton pushes him so that he’s laying down flat on the couch. Remus turns his head to look at the wall and wonders what on earth his brother’s fiance is about to do. If something goes bad here, if Patton does something Remus didn’t ask for, Roman will still believe Patton over him.

Remus can’t lose his brother again. Not so soon after getting him back.

“What are you,” Remus starts and begins to sit up, but then Patton is flopping carefully on top of him. Remus’s back is pressed firmly into the couch. Patton makes a comforting weight on his chest that almost lets him drown out the stupid voice in his head yelling chew his hair and pull the threads so his shirt comes undone and he’s in eye-poking range.

“Take a deep breath,” Patton says. Remus does as he’s told without thinking about it first - not always a good thing to do - and immediately feels like he’s settled exactly where he’s supposed to be, with the couch firm under him and Patton solid above. He’s content.

He hasn’t felt like that in a long, long time.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks.

“Yeah,” Remus says. He reaches up hesitantly to rub his eyes, almost afraid that if he moves this apparition will evaporate (it wouldn’t be the first time.) “It’s...nice.”

“I’m glad,” Patton says. He pauses for a moment and Remus wonders what thing he’s not saying, what Remus is doing that is wrong and bad and loathed-

“You’re not fidgeting as much,” he says quietly, which is definitely not what Remus had been expecting. “Do you feel calmer?”

“I-uh.” Remus chokes and he flutters a hand in the air before trapping it at his side. He’s surprised to realize that he doesn’t really feel that electricity burning through his synapses, telling him to pick his hand back up and fling it around like a badminton racquet when the shuttlecock has gone out of range. How strange.

Remus’s eyes flutter shut before he can stop it and he sighs heavily, giving himself fully over to the comfort of the moment. “Yeah. I feel calmer.” His fingers trace patterns against his pants and his leg shifts. Patton moves slightly and Remus holds his breath, hoping that he hasn’t done anything to make Patton mad at him, but he only adjusts himself to Remus’s new position and stays where he is.

Patton hums on top of him, and while the otherwise silent house is a bit too much for Remus, this noise isn’t entirely unpleasant. He finds himself slipping away, feeling so tired and okay and really, actually safe here that he shuts off before he can stop it. His last solid thought is wondering if Patton is like a lightning rod, attracting the electricity out of Remus so that Remus can finally relax. His brother really did fall in love with someone good. Despite everything, Remus is glad that he’ll have that.

He falls asleep without electricity snapping against his skin. It is a singularly amazing experience.

#sanders sides #ts remus sanders #ts patton sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #ts remus #ts pattton #ts dark creativity #ts morality #fanfic #my writing #electricity #intruality #platonic intruality