#i unfortunately cannot control the rat in my brain and he will continue to run amuck

[vivi-ships]

I really need to stop staying up until 6am on my phone knowing I could have been asleep hours ago

[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.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

So last night...

For my University graduation, i went to Elephante Butte and Truth or Consequences...

Well, Tom and Sara got out of control...

Then some Islamic people came over and this bitch girl actually threw a few rocks at me and hit me in the face, for my clothes because i was talking to one of their male,family members and another directed them to,seewhat i was wearing and didnt i deserve as a woman,what they deserved?

So because i jumped up and shoved one of the girls and they all bowling pinned and fell on each other the male,said for them to,go,further away in a walk way..

So they wrre all,gathering stones and throwing them at me and so a child handed me a rock and I threw it ... Like pretty hard and it hit this girl upside her head and she fell and died. And then i hit them all.

I can throw a small object over 500 feet... So it's not like im all gentle...

And so yeah they didn't like that shit all trying to run and hide.., like 25 Islamic girls and like 5 of us American girls and 2 children and 4 Islamic American Men throwing at those girls.... Whom were all adults and some old like,grandma age

So now one of those,guys that had organized these girls was out last night and he didn't like that i was out... With my brother.

So we had words and he kept heading his shit all night. And it was wrong and I was angry.

So most of what i wrote last night was to explain myseld because no one asked how i felt about the burka except one person. And to which he replied to me, "i am an American, now, so i want to be with an American woman, that is why i am here"

Like dude has common sense. Like how is he gonna be all you can't be American when I came here?

So you remember how i said I did things in Iraq and Afghanistan from here? I helped those people to come here under refugee status. From Iraq.

Unfortunately just like Americans some have brains and some don't. Some appreciate what has been done for them and some don't. Some understand America is free and some prefer to be back in Iraq or at least under the rules Iraq allows under the lies of Islamic Qur'an.

Just like Americans find words in the Bible to twist into the way they want to so they can hurt others living the way that they believe they should.

So with Jeremiah, some of the Iraqis made into my life. And so that is the way that is.

Words about the ears is that they were or are ISIS. Well that is fine,but no one is going to throw rocks at me for what i wear. ISIS or not.

That got ruled out in the 1960s and 1970s in America when women began to burn their bras.

So. Iraq, Islam, Middle East, Muslims. Yall are beyind the times of the West.

Now ISIS was created because it was tired of government wars jist fighting and kilking innocent and good people while big fat rats were sitting around stealing the cheese, so they made their own regime and troops to not kill innocent people but to kill people that were bad. Domestic abuse, beating children, (Not rape as their culture is different), murdering children and old grandparents, not following the Qur'an, including stoning women.

But under refugee status, they're not allowed to behave in such a frivolous manner.

Some are American Citizens and do work for the United States military. And other government jobs. Just like any American citizen is allowed to do. They have their own businesses and can work construction or fast food just the same.

Regardless if they were ISIS or Al-Qaeda or Islamic or whatever. Obviously the American Government, under Barack Obama, felt they were safe enough to come here.

The particular sect I assisted to relocate was from a village that was constantly bombed by a (then unknown but now known) private American company.

It was not the US Military as it was disguised to look nor was it any other country.

So a particular boy had his entire family killed one by one and only he was left. Abu.

And so after i killed The Michael Jackson impersonator that had HIV AIDS and was a pervert to children and i caught him touching my daughter and the president pardoned me for life, he asked if there was anything I could ask him for help with and i said, yes. Abu and his family.

And so while I rarely see them, they live here all over New Mexico, blending in with Mexicans with their tan colored skin and their foreign accents. And i see them all the time. Without even knowing.

Rarely i would see an old thin man with a turban, a burgundy one.... Around the corner from my house at a small house that's been torn down.

I would see an old Uncle in restaurant. I saw him last week. Usually he eats alone but a few occasions i saw him part of a group. And the girls that i see all dress American or even slightly Mexican.

So yesterday's post was not to say they were unwelcome in our Country but just to say a few have not changed in 10 years and they are not welcome for their evil ways and last night the man that had arranged my stoning for wearing a sun dress without a bra, was arranged to be removed from our country.

As he cannot treat me/anyone with respect and the attempted stoning was recorded by many people and evidence exists that he has betrayed hos refugee status and his new land of America.

Abu had asked him to quit following me but he continued. Thus he was stalking me. So there were legal reasons for his removal.

So most definitely I don't want people to feel they are not welcome here or cannot practice their religion or live freely here. But their are laws here and in the world that are highly suggested to be followed otherwise a reprimand will be issued

And now Obama is talking shit about going after Abu and I will, of course, have to impolitely whip Obama's ass. Like how he disrespects his wife whom actually made his black ass who he is. I watched the movie, how he met her cause he needed a tutor.

So lets not all be stupid here. Follow your refugee paperwork and follow the rules and regulations and things are not under Obama now. So Some y'all need to get woke because Obama is done. Whether he desires to be or I do, he will be done of this situations and things will be changing.

Cause I'm Done with this shit.

I'm not going to have yo worry about someone running me off the road for my clothes or my mouth when it was Abu whom asked for the freedom of his friends and family to arrive in this country along with him when i asked for him to come with his family.

So, in truth. Y'all would all be dead in Iraq had i not asked.

Don't respect that, I don't give a shit, because that only means i will not have to respect you.

You can pass a citizenship test but that DOESNT mean you're a practicing citizen. It just means you passed a test. Just like being baptized and going to church doesn't get you into Heaven.

Sorry it has to be said

I know many people do enjoy living here. And that is your right.