#garbagecan

[wsibum]

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[oscarandgrinchfan]

Rotten Birthday to Oscar The Grouch

I'm Wishing My pal Oscar the Grouch the worst, stinkiest, noisiest, and the grouchiest birthday a grouch could ask for!

[garbagecanwitch]

On the one hand, I may be hyperfixating.

On the other, I won a pumpkin carving contest.

[lupines-slash-recs]

Rec: The Lost Prince by garbagecan_not_garbagecannot

Title: The Lost Prince Author: garbagecan_not_garbagecannot Canon: Devil May Cry Pairing: Dante/Vergil Rating: Teen [🍋] Word Count: 27,244 Summary: After the end of the Long War, the Kingdom of Escana finally settled

Continue reading...

[kraftwerk113]

Life‘s too short for weird music 12.05.2023

Throw that beat in the Garbagecan / Cool

Da greif ich doch gleich mal meinen Gedanken von gestern auf - als ich The Bug Club in Nähe der wunderbarsten deutschen Anarcho Popformation Throw that beat in the Garbagecan rückte. Das leider viel zu kurzlebigste Sextett aus Süddeutschland veröffentlichte zwischen 1989 und 1994 vier Alben, die auch heute noch von hohem Unterhaltungswert sind. Leider konnte sich die Band um Claus Cornfeld trotz einer kleinen Hardcore-Fangemeinde nie in großem Stil durchsetzen und scheiterte letztendlich an den eigenen Ansprüchen und dies trotz einer gewissen Öffnung hin zu gepflegteren Popstrukturen in den letzten Bandjahren. Heute noch einmal eine Rückblende auf gepflegten Indie-Pop Wahnsinn, der Titelsong des in 1992 veröffentlichten dritten Albums Cool.

[enlightening-di]

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[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Lunatic Gabbers • Okuzachism • Most Dangerous Person • Death Rave • Makai Reincarnation • Doom • Firewallcracker • Laughin' Doll • Insecticide (GARBAGECAN Remix) • Keep Out (lililL Remix) • Dislike (printf Remix) • Funeral Carnival (RIZARDI Remix)

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

[forestryfae]

so basically i gotta do like 4 rounds of laundry, but first i gotta put away the laundry i already did into the tiny closet i have, and i have some dishes i need to put away and then theres some dishes that needs to be washed and on top of that i gotta clean the litterboxes, mop atleast the bedroom bathroom and kitchen, throw away garbage, and i have some boxes im gonna use for stuff that need to be washed or wiped clean and the garbagecan outside fell over so i gotta clean up after some fucking birds, plus im out of catfood and p much any and all food in the house except some dry/canned stuff that lasts a while, and im mostly out of cleaning wipes and fabric softener all on top of me being supposed to go back to inpatient so i can go to work tomorrow. i am ONE person and i have depression and ocd and i was sick last week like. HOW. how is this gonna work out. it fucking doesnt. nothing works. i am literally struggling and have to fight w myself just to get up and do laundry but i still managed to get so much done and i can already fucking hear them tell me "you have to prioritize work" and "work is the most important thing to focus on" and somehow its more important than laundry??? i am ONE person trying to take care of myself, two cats, and a house filled to the brim with shit i either have to clean or tidy or throw away, all by myself, and with no support. i get help if it benefits someone else and thats it, unless i ask grandma and i dont wanna bother her too much.

anyways its 4 am and i cant keep worrying about literally everything all the time so im just gonna call them tomorrow and talk to them and see if i cant find some plan for how to deal w this. maybe ill be there on like tuesday or wednesday or some shit. theyll just have to deal with it somehow cus i certainly am trying my fucking best despite it all and im doing really fucking good all things considered

[8golden-harvest8]

very relatable humble garbagecan

REBLOG IF THIS RELATES TO YOU:

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[oscarandgrinchfan]

National Grouch Day Everyone.

National Rotten Do A Grouch A Favor Day with Oscar the Grouch and his worm Slimey.

[garbagecanwitch]

Started this back in October before it ended up in the ever-growing pile of WIPs.

Well today I had an unprecedented surge of artistic motivation and picked it back up!

[cobraisveryhorny]

@cherry-blossom-consumer @garbagecan-meow

Sweet girl

dad's friend William Afton x fem/virgin reader

Synop: Reader is early 20s and very unexperienced, William sees that as an opportunity to seize a perfect toy.

Warnings: pervy/creepy William, corruption, coercion (possibly dubcon I'm not too sure), groping, inappropriate relationship.

A/n: I'm not sure how I feel about this, I don't think it reads well but I like the idea so posted anyway. May come back and change bits eventually. Hope you enjoy :)

You didn't think you'd be bothered about the new neighbour on your street, but he quickly becomes a friend of your dad’s and in consequence a part of your life. He's handsome, if a little forward, and from the beginning his eyes are all over you in the most intentional way. You don’t know what to do about it. All his pervy comments about “how nice you look”, or “how any lad would be lucky to have you'', go completely over your parents’ heads but stick with you and settle as a warm feeling in your core. The way you can’t meet his gaze and shiver when he ���harmlessly’ touches your back or your arm, damn near makes him high. You’re just this perfect sweet innocent thing, so polite and kind and he instantly wants to fucking ruin you. 

But he moves carefully, all the flirting and looking you up and down is one thing, but he wants to take his time with you. He gets himself close enough to your dad that he’s around all the time, coming over for dinner or drinks, helping with any jobs that need doing. 

And it’s one night that he’s over that things change. After a few hours of William drinking and chatting with you dad, you come home from wherever you’ve been, clearly out somewhere because you’re all dressed up in a little floral dress that’s just made to be lifted up. His eyes are on you the second you walk in the door, watching the glimpse of your thighs he can catch as you walk past, the drink making it harder than normal to keep himself calm.

So when you go into your kitchen he makes an excuse to go and get him and your father another drink, just to talk to you. But as soon as he’s stood in the doorway watching you his trousers are tight and he palms himself slightly as he walks into the room. You’re standing between the counter and an island, just waiting for the kettle to boil, wanting to get upstairs and out of the way. But you turn once you hear footsteps, butterflies coming to life in your stomach when you see William and not your dad. Something about being in this room alone with him felt heavy, as if the air changed, making you feel like a deer in headlights. But what does that make him? The hunter. 

Your well-mannered nature takes over when you catch his eyes, a polite smile settling on your face, “Hi, Mr Afton… You alright?”  You ask, hoping to keep this small talk brief. 

He hums in acknowledgment before answering, noticing the change in your posture when you realise he was there, like you’re somewhat scared of him and the power in that goes straight to his cock. “More than alright, sweetheart. How are you?” As he talks he walks over, grabbing a beer off the counter and going about cracking it open. You watch his hands as he does so, guiltily thinking that they are nice, large and strong-looking, they’d no doubt make your own look tiny.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. Just need some tea to warm up, it’s cold out there.” As you answer, you hear the kettle click off, the water inside it bubbling away, and so you turn to take hold of it and make your tea. You don’t hear William set his bottle down or walk towards you, he’s just there suddenly, his much bigger frame towering over your turned back. The gap between your kitchen units is small, making it so he’s very close, so close that his body pushes you into the counter as he opens a cupboard above your head. Your mouth is open in disbelief that he’s touching you like this because you can feel him, his apparent hardness pressing into your back. 

From above you he brings down a glass, priding himself on this excuse to press his erection against you, shifting slightly to glide himself across your skin, making you gasp. When he steps away the wide-eyed stare you fix him with has him grinning. You poor little thing, you really have no idea how much you’ve affected him. 

Through his smile, he feigns some concern, “You okay, love?” The confusion on your face doubles, he must have done that on purpose, there’s no way that was an accident. But what exactly has he done? Brushed against you? It’s nothing… even if it's made every hair on your skin stand on end and your legs press together.

You try to maintain your politeness, but stumble instantly when you automatically look down at his crotch, the sight of his tent tightening your chest. “Yeah,” you start wobbly, “You just uh made me jump.” You internally thank yourself for being able to come up with something, but there’s no nonchalance in it, you sound small and pathetic. He just smirks again, an almost mean glint in his eyes.

“Oh I’m sorry,” He begins, placing his hand on your arm as he talks, “the last thing I’d want to do is scare you.” 

Your hands are shaking as you try to drink your tea, you managed to slip away upstairs and away from William. Though you haven’t escaped the feeling of it, no quite yet. Maybe it was the power in his lack of shame, because when you looked him in the eye you just could tell that he knew exactly what he did, and where embarrassment should have been pride was instead. That’s scary… but also thrilling, judging by the familiar warmth spreading between your legs. You’re naive but not stupid, you know that he looks at you like he wants to fuck you, like you’re some pretty little cupcake ready to be bitten into. But it’s never occurred to you as a real possibility.

~

Trying to go about your night felt impossible. Every time you start doing something you remember that man is still sitting downstairs and the heavy feeling in your core worsened. 

And so after a few hours you can’t help but creep back down those stairs, not really sure what you’re wanting to accomplish. You know you’re walking into a trap but you’re drawn to it and the curiosity is too much to resist.

As quiet as you try to be, William hears the floorboards creak under your steps and his brows raise instantly, he’s been thinking about going home for a while since the banter with your dad died down the moment some footie was turned on. The constant drinking for the past 6 or 7 hours was starting to catch up with him and he was at the point of wanting to have a wank followed up by a kip; but the idea of saying goodbye to you was tempting to say the least.  

He glances over to your father, who was drunk enough that he was beginning to nod off, as the guy was prone to do, which is a green light if he’s ever seen one. And so he acts, standing and leaving the sitting room near silently, catching you in the hallway. You freeze under his gaze, rubbing your arm shyly, all your curiosity melted away very quickly at the imposing and intoxicated man in front of you. 

He sniggers, “Are you done hiding in your room, sweetheart?” 

The heat in your face is near unbearable, “Uh… I just came down to get something.” you lie, and it’s extremely obvious. You cringe at yourself before stepping past him and walking towards the kitchen, knowing in your gut that he was going to follow you. And he does, catching your arm as soon as you’re through the door, turning you around to face him. His grip on your arm feels like it’s branding into your skin and it’s beginning to dawn on you that you may have bitten off more than you could chew. 

“Still wearing that little dress, huh?” Although he’s still grinning, the question feels like an accusation, especially with how his eyes rake over you.

You swallow, “Yeah- I haven’t changed yet.” you sound so stupid but his unmoving hand on your arm makes it impossible to speak normally. 

God, your nervousness is driving him insane. “Don’t. I like it.” His words set a spark in your core, but when he reaches down to pluck the hem of your skirt with his fingers, you step back immediately, pulling yourself free. 

“What are you doing?” You say instantly, the words uncertain and shaky. Stepping back until you bump into the counter, causing a small whimper to escape your lips. 

He watches your moments with amusement though it’s masking a very greedy and nasty part of himself. “I’m just playing with you, love.” His tone is sickly sweet and you stare at him somewhat amazed. 

He moves closer to you and you’ve never felt so small, again reaching out to touch your skirt, this time a little higher up coming to rest on your hip. And you were right, his hands were fucking huge.

“I-I… my dad is-” You try, but he cuts you off, rubbing his thumb up and down on your hip. 

“Busy.” He says bluntly, before giving you perhaps the most earth-shattering smirk, “Don’t worry about him, worry about me.” You swallow again, your fingers trembling at your sides. It’s like your whole body has become manual because you’re very aware of your quickened breath and the awkwardness of your stance. 

You don’t have a response for him so he continues speaking in that low, suggestive tone, “You’re such a pretty thing, always prancing about like a little fucking decoration. How you don’t have a boyfriend is crazy.” He traces his touch to your lower back and the way you arch it makes his cock twitch, and fuck, he wants to take you apart so badly. 

That predatory thought must show in his expression because you look adorably taken aback, he’s always suspected that you’re inexperienced, it’s obvious in your shy response to all his comments. But he wants to hear exactly what you’ve done from those lovely lips of yours. 

William shifts his position and without warning two hands cup your breasts and you gasp as he squeezes them in an oddly gentle way. He leans a little closer to you and keeps his voice barely above a whisper, “Now tell me, sweet girl. Has anyone ever touched you here?” 

You blink at his question, too entranced by this intimate touch that’s happened so suddenly to formulate a response, your mental narration is lost and you’re left alone with an empty head. A wolf-like grin coats his face at your trembling lip, “Hm?” He prompts.

You nod your head slightly, faded highschool boyfriends and college make outs hidden in your mind. Hands shift as his fingers move to pinch both your nipples, it makes you whimper pathetically, confused as to why you’re going along with this and why your thighs are instinctually rubbing together. “What about here?” 

You nod again, biting your lower lip to try and hide any more embarrassing sounds. Hanging on to his every word to try and figure out what he’s going to do next.

It’s hard for him to control himself right now and he abruptly pushes you harder against the counter, hand sliding down, round your back and grabbing your bum firmly. “And here?” You open your mouth to speak, moaning slightly instead. It feels like your chest is going to explode. You nod again, a distant prom night memory flickering. 

He chuckles, eyes going dark as he uses this position to lift you up onto the counter behind you, a cold hand tracing up your bare thigh before bluntly cupping your pussy. This time the desperate sound from you is very audible, and if he was a sensible man maybe he’d stop, instead his thumb presses over your clit, rubbing it agonisingly through the fabric of your panties. Some pleading noises flee your lips at almost instant amounting pressure in your core. He brings himself very close to your ear, “Now, what about here?” 

“I- no.” You struggle to speak clearly, your voice sounding small and delightfully delicate. 

“No?” His eyebrows raise, “Oh but this is the best part.” He can feel your wetness seeping through the flimsy fabric of your knickers and it’s driving him mental, you’re going to look so fucking pretty when you come undone for him.

“I don’t-” You speak without thinking the thought dying before you could get to it, but the words are clear enough to make him pause and pull back to look at you, his eyes narrow. 

“Don’t what?” He asks.

You don’t get a chance to answer, though you’re not sure what you would have said anyway, because the sound of the living room door opening and your dad’s footsteps bring an end to whatever this was. William sniggers, a bit put out at being interrupted but really what had he expected doing this right here. 

Before he pulls away he smirks again, asking you fairly sharply, “Are you going to tell your daddy about this?” You shake your head quickly. No, you won’t tell your dad because the most shameful part of you wants this to happen again.   

Part two - here

[kraftwerk113]

Life‘s too short for weird music 11.05.2023

The Bug Club - Out in the streets

Heute zu einem jungen, dynamischen Trio aus aus der britischen Provinz, Caldicott/Monmouthshire. Unterwegs mit einer gesunden DIY - Post-Punk Attitüde sorgen The Bug Club gerade bei meinem Lieblingssender Six Music für ein bisschen Furore. Besonders gefallen hat mir der Song Out in the street. Und so ein kleines bisschen erinnern mich The bug Club an diese weirde Post-Punk/Anarcho-Popband Throw that beat in the Garbagecan, die ich in den frühen Ninties ganz tief ins Herz geschlossen hatte.

[laomusicarts]

laos Trash Can

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[sleep-deprived-luka]

Sometimes I have great ideas, but most of the time I open my brain with the distinct sound of a garbagecan squeaking