#mini asphalt plant

[smitholivers]

Small portable asphalt plants for sale - Atlas Technologies

Quality mini asphalt drum mix plant for sale from leading Indian manufacturer. Easy to use and low cost machine is suitable for small and medium sized jobs.

[atlas-industries]

Mini Portable Asphalt Plants - Atlas Industries

Atlas for sale mobile hot asphalt plant at lowest price. We are manufacturer and exporters of mini portable batch plants, and hot mix plant in Worldwide.Buy quality mobile asphalt mix plant at low price.

[tangyangie]

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 °❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

desc. their favorite winter activities.

notes. i wanted to wait to post this when it was snowy outside for me but that never came because it never snows anymore sobbing !!!1!11!!1!

anyways this is like a modern-ish au... i guess??

snowball pelters. as soon as you step outside, you're getting a load of freshly balled up snow—the powder having been turned into an extremely dense sphere—straight to your face. if that's not enough, you'll get some down your back, too. oh, how they just love to see your face cringe out of frigidity, squeezing your eyes shut and mouth so eager to speak, yet being unable to get a single word out. they'll laugh with no shame and taunt you, so your only choice is to take a snow shovel and bury them. see how confident they are then, being completely submerged in the white powder. they'll curse you under their breath (lovingly) and follow you around all day, refusing to not torment you by tossing messily made snowballs at you.

yelan, HU TAO, yae miko, WANDERER, heizou, cyno, TARTAGLIA, faruzan, eula, beidou, xinyan

snowman makers. they are the most adorable beings you'll ever see. so concentrated on getting the proportions of the snowmen right, even if they're not the best at it. they look at others' snowmen and get concerned that their own may be a little... unsteady. meaning, the head was too large for the body and was constantly falling over and destroying itself. with a frown, they'd be determined to get it back up on their own, (politely) refusing help. once they get the snowman to hold up long enough for them to go find some sticks, you'd fix it up for them. taking a little bit of snow off the top, adding it to the lower half, and reinforcing the bottom with some rocks covered in snow. once they come back with arms for the snowman, you innocently smile, sitting down in the snow as they eye you suspiciously, but smile and pat you on the head. do they know? ...you can't be sure.

XIAO, gorou, furina, kazuha, KOKOMI, albedo, collei, shenhe, ayaka, TIGHNARI, nilou, ganyu

hot chocolate drinkers. they cozily sit inside, watching their favorite re-runs as they sit on the couch. they watch the people freezing outside with a smug look, lazing around and doing absolutely nothing, wrapped in the largest blankets they could find. this is their... fourth? fifth cup of cocoa, and the bag of mini marshmallows they take from is quickly shrinking. honestly, they feel like a teddy bear with how warm they are. you've got no clue how they're not sweating and dying from the heat. their smirk makes you want to toss them out into the snow and watch them suffer, but they suffer enough when they accidentally spill burning hot cocoa on themselves.

lumine, LYNETTE, venti, kaveh, KIRARA, yoimiya, aether, ayato, MONA, xingqiu, lisa, yanfei

driveway shovelers. they are stuck outside all day, working on clearing the asphalt of snow. it's almost hopeless—the snow doesn't stop, so any of the driveway that gets cleared is covered again in only minutes (it's so tired...) and all that you're left with is someone who's extremely close to face-planting in the snow. honestly, they're probably hoping to get hypothermia—at least it'll put them out of their misery. but them, being the hard workers that they are, miraculously manage to finish shoveling, and join the hot chocolate drinkers after their time in hell, collapsing on the couch (and probably falling asleep).

DILUC, wriothseley, neuvillette, dehya, JEAN, keqing, CANDACE, zhongli, thoma, shinobu, noelle, mika

hill sledders. they'll bust through the door at the first speck of light, holding anything that they could safely use as a sled. honestly, they would sled on a shoveled pile of snow if there wasn't a hill, but they're determined to find a good place to sled. so, they'll drag you along, running around until you can spot some type of slope that'll get you faster than 1 inch per second. once you do, they're so excited they'd probably forget the sled on the way up. so, you're stranded at the top while they carefully slide back down to retrieve the sled. by the time they get back to the top, you're already unimpressed, but they manage to cheer you up. they sit you on the sled and push you down, hopping behind you and holding you tight. cause if they weren't, you probably would've been found sticking out of the nearby heaps of snow.

amber, NAVIA, lyney, fischl, ITTO, charlotte, xiangling, bennett (crashes into a tree), kaeya

sleepers. exactly what is sounds like. they will be BURIED in bed all day. not even a fire alarm will be loud enough to wake them up—they are completely knocked out. honestly, they wouldn't even realize it. they were just so cold when they woke up in the morning, so they didn't even bother to leave. they instantly fall back asleep, so the only way to wake them up is leaving them until they thaw in the snow.

ei, baizhu, chongyun, ROSARIA, alhaitham, ningguang, sucrose, LAYLA, freminet

notes. ngl winter would be the best season if it wasn't so damn cold 🤗🤗 it's soooo pretty IF IT SNOWS

also listened to beabadoobee's cover of winter wonderland at least 30 times today so go do that please

and i have never gone sledding before actually so if it sounds like that "𝖘𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖍𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖊" thing i'm so so so sorry

[fuck-customers]

Throwback to working at an Adult store.

There was a big big storm. Like shut down the entire state storm. It was a really bad thunder and wind storm. CT doesn't get these often but when we do... oh they're rough because of all the trees and power lines.

I was working in the area that happened to get hit the hardest. A tree ended up pulling down a bunch of main lines and a huge transformer that exploded and caught the actual asphalt in the street on fire. Didn't know that could happen till I watched it. I can still smell it.

The emergency services shut down the street completely. We had no power of course. So we closed and when the people came to tell us to evacuate due to explosions we got ready to go.

This customer though. Somehow drove through all the wires and fires and emergency trucks, and demanded he come in to buy some boner pills.

BRUH????

I looked at him like what the fuck. I was like dude we're closed and gestured to the literal fire in the street and pointed out that we have to evacuate.

One group of the emergency people who had told us to evacuate were walking by and heard this guy start to argue with me. They came up and this big dude in that group was like "are you stupid? Did you not hear the warnings and see the power lines? Go home dude!"

Somehow that finally got it into the dudes head.

Like bro you had to have driven over active power lines in order to get here. I saw that you had to park 2 lots away and walk over bc the fires in the street were blocking our entrance. The entire street is blacked out without power.

Context clues??

Also how tf are you still alive of you don't know enough to check your surroundings for safety? Stay away from power lines?

The dude finally left after being told off. My co worker and I cracked up after we shut the door on him. Like bro its not that serious.

When the store was shut down as much as it could be without power, and it was time to leave, the emergency people directed us to drive over the grass and sidewalk to safely get out. That was kinda fun lol

3 years ish later, the asphalt on that street is still burned black from the fires. Trees still have visible damage but are growing back.

But bruh? I guarantee your off brand cialis is not as important as your safety.

Side note, when I got home the parking spot i was assigned was taken by a huge pine tree that had fallen over 3 spaces, taking out a little blue car. If I was home my car would have been crushed. I'm lucky I didn't get any major damage. Just lost a mini greenhouse and some plants.

It took months to get everything cleaned up though across the state.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[backhoe-loaders-vs-excavators]

Backhoe Loaders vs. Excavators: Which Machine is Right for Your Job?

When it comes to construction, landscaping, or excavation projects, choosing the right equipment is crucial to getting the job done efficiently and cost-effectively. Among the most versatile and commonly used machines in the industry are backhoe loaders and excavators. Both are powerful tools, but they serve different purposes and excel in specific applications. In this blog, we’ll dive deep into the features, advantages, and ideal use cases of each machine to help you decide which one is the best fit for your job.

Understanding Backhoe Loaders

A backhoe loader, often referred to simply as a backhoe, is a multifunctional piece of machinery that combines the capabilities of a tractor, a loader, and an excavator.

Key Features of Backhoe Loaders:

Two Attachments in One Machine:

Front Bucket (Loader): Ideal for lifting, moving, and carrying materials like soil, gravel, or debris.

Rear Arm (Backhoe): Designed for digging trenches, breaking asphalt, and other excavation tasks.

Compact Size:

Backhoe loaders are generally smaller than excavators, making them suitable for projects with limited space.

Mobility:

Equipped with wheels, backhoe loaders can be driven on roads, eliminating the need for additional transportation.

Versatility:

These machines can switch between different attachments, such as augers, hammers, or compactors, further expanding their functionality.

Advantages of Using Backhoe Loaders:

Cost-Effective: As a multi-purpose machine, a backhoe loader reduces the need for multiple pieces of equipment.

Ease of Transport: Their road mobility and compact design make them easy to move between job sites.

User-Friendly: Operating a backhoe loader is relatively straightforward, making it accessible for smaller crews.

Common Applications:

Digging shallow trenches for utility lines.

Small-to-medium-sized demolition projects.

Landscaping tasks like clearing land or planting trees.

Loading and unloading materials at construction sites.

Understanding Excavators

An excavator is a heavy-duty machine designed primarily for digging and moving large quantities of earth or materials. Unlike backhoe loaders, excavators come in various sizes, from compact mini excavators to massive machines used in mining.

Key Features of Excavators:

Specialized Boom and Arm:

Excavators use a boom and stick mechanism to dig deep and reach farther than backhoe loaders.

Tracked or Wheeled Mobility:

Most excavators operate on tracks, providing stability on uneven terrain. Wheeled models are available for smoother surfaces.

360-Degree Rotation:

The operator's cab can rotate a full 360 degrees, offering excellent maneuverability and efficiency.

Attachment Options:

Similar to backhoes, excavators can use various attachments like buckets, hydraulic breakers, and grapples.

Advantages of Using Excavators:

Superior Digging Capability: Excavators are designed for heavy-duty excavation, capable of digging deeper and handling larger volumes.

Adaptability: With the right attachment, excavators can perform tasks such as demolition, material handling, and even snow removal.

Stability on Rough Terrain: Tracks provide excellent stability, making them ideal for challenging landscapes.

Common Applications:

Large-scale digging and trenching projects.

Demolition of structures.

Mining and quarrying.

Dredging rivers and canals.

Backhoe Loaders vs. Excavators: A Detailed Comparison

To help you make an informed decision, let’s compare backhoe loaders and excavators across several critical factors:

1. Size and Mobility

Backhoe Loaders: Compact and equipped with wheels, making them suitable for urban or small construction sites. They can travel on roads without a trailer, reducing transport costs.

Excavators: Larger in size, especially the full-sized models, and usually require transportation on a trailer. Mini excavators, however, are more compact and mobile.

2. Digging Depth and Reach

Backhoe Loaders: Ideal for shallow digging (up to 14-15 feet, depending on the model).

Excavators: Can dig much deeper (up to 20 feet or more for standard models), making them suitable for heavy-duty excavation.

3. Versatility

Backhoe Loaders: Versatile due to their dual attachments, but their capability is split between loading and digging.

Excavators: More focused on excavation tasks, but with the right attachments, they can handle a broader range of specialized jobs.

4. Terrain Suitability

Backhoe Loaders: Better for firm or paved surfaces and moderate terrain.

Excavators: Perform exceptionally well on rough or uneven terrain, especially those with tracks.

5. Cost and Maintenance

Backhoe Loaders: Generally more affordable to purchase and maintain. Ideal for smaller budgets or multi-purpose use.

Excavators: Higher initial costs, but their performance in heavy-duty applications often justifies the expense.

6. Job Site Requirements

Backhoe Loaders: Perfect for smaller sites with limited space and a need for multi-functional machinery.

Excavators: Best suited for large-scale projects that require substantial digging or demolition.

How to Decide Which Machine Is Right for You

The choice between a backhoe loader and an excavator depends on the specific needs of your project. Consider the following questions:

What Type of Work Needs to Be Done?

For versatile tasks like digging, loading, and light demolition, a backhoe loader is a solid choice.

For focused digging, deep trenching, or heavy-duty demolition, an excavator is more suitable.

What Is the Scale of the Project?

Smaller projects or those on tight urban job sites benefit from the compactness and road mobility of backhoe loaders.

Larger, open-area projects requiring extensive excavation favor the power and reach of excavators.

What Is the Nature of the Terrain?

Flat or moderately rough terrain can be handled by backhoe loaders.

Challenging, uneven, or loose terrain is better navigated by excavators with tracks.

What Is Your Budget?

If cost-efficiency is a priority, backhoe loaders are often the more economical option.

If you require heavy-duty performance, investing in an excavator might be worthwhile.

Conclusion: Backhoe Loaders or Excavators?

Both backhoe loaders and excavators are indispensable in the world of construction and earthmoving, but they are tailored to different needs. Backhoe loaders shine in versatility and cost-effectiveness, making them ideal for smaller projects and general-purpose use. On the other hand, excavators excel in power, reach, and specialized tasks, particularly in large-scale or rugged job sites.

When choosing between the two, evaluate the scope of your project, the type of terrain, and your budget. If you still find it challenging to decide, consulting with equipment rental companies or professionals can provide additional insight.

No matter which machine you choose, ensuring that it’s operated by trained personnel and maintained properly will guarantee efficiency and safety on the job site. Both backhoe loaders and excavators are powerful allies in construction—choosing the right one is the first step toward project success.

[atlastechnologiesindia]

Asphalt Drum Mix Plant - Exporter - Mobile Hot Mixing Plants

Atlas is a leading manufacturer and exporter of asphalt drum mix plants worldwide. We offer high-quality small and mini mobile hot mixing plants at low prices.

[positivelypositivelypostive]

Loving Lex In the Aggregate

There is something delightfully askew in loving an opera singer near a deep-water channel, with a Soviet trawler slipping by, and the water from its wake sweetly slapping the rocks below.

You see, I want to love Lex in the aggregate. I’m a glad fool. Picnics in parks on prom nights, watching screwball comedies on Channel 40 out of Sacramento, wearing thin ties in mini-knots in a town where ties aren’t required. You know, stuff like that.

Understand, I’m not playing a rake or rogue here. I want to cool my hot feral brain with any variation of C.K. Dexter-Haven I can find.

The Great Lex is no different. She has Rene Russo locks, a visage like Deborah Kerr, chocolate brown eyes, and boop-boop-be-doop lips. She walks like an ugly duckling from a small town would. You know. The ones who are outcast and uncertain about the attractiveness they’ve grown into, learning how to get even, and parlaying that attraction into a future.

We’re desperate for sophistication. We want out. And our first chakras are on fire.

Did I tell you that Lex was a coloratura soprano?

It would seem that a date at the Sherwood Theatre would portend nothing. I mean, I take Lex to see “The Jungle Book”. We are 21-years-old. Now, the fact that we are tongue-fucking each other to near injury portends everything. Using our tongues in ways beyond their design shows that Disney has no idea what their films inspire.

Desperate to experience every degree of each other’s being, we take the long slow drive on a levee road out past Ladd’s Marina. Out past the asparagus stalks planted in peat dirt fields. Out to the single road that line the banks of the Stockton Channel. Along the way, it feels that every inhale I take is an initiation. Every exhale, a death.

I park my 72’ Fiat Spyder facing east. Life has moved on from us asking any more questions of it. A Soviet trawler filled with Russian grain quietly slides east towards the Stockton Harbor.

We get out of the car, walk to the trunk searching for the perfect flat space, and Lex, in an authoritative voice tells me “Turn around”

I face the west. 5. 10. 15 second’s pass. Why am I counting? I lose the more I try to keep time. Fading. Fading. Fading fast. I pulse everywhere, especially in the parts of me that are now profoundly reliable.

“Turn around”

I do. The Great Lex sits on the trunk. Her feet rests on the blue metal. Knees bent. Thighs apart. Skirt hiked to her hips. Lex is moonlight now and I am being bathed in her sweet gypsy glow.

“I really like your tongue” she says.

Lex and I learned a lot last night. That there is honor in having knees bloodied by asphalt. That sex can be had in the presence of the Soviet Merchant Marine. We learned how to be humble, know our place in the universe, and still be bold enough to stiffen nipples, cock and clits. That, ultimately, sex and love require a linguistic base, even if it’s only two words and screamed to God. And finally, when it’s all over, that there’s love in gently touching each others randomly shaped scars.

[ask-team-clst]

Tournament: Laura vs Shanyin

After a quick break, Shanyin did a few stretches as he waited for the next match of the mini-tournament to start. He was pretty sure Connor said it’d be a round-robin when they started, so that meant he could be fighting anyone next— meaning that he wasn’t too surprised when Laura stepped into the ring.

“Guess we’re doing partner fights this round?” Shanyin asked.

“Well, I kinda asked Tsubaki if I could trade with her.” Laura said, as she checked her guns. “I remembered we’ve got something we need to settle.”

Shanyin stopped stretching and raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What?”

“This.” Laura watched as Shanyin narrowly dodged a swing from one of Atlagracia’s batons and put some distance between them.

“You owe me a rematch.” Laura said, twirling her weapons and settling into an eskrima stance.

“You’re gonna need to be a bit more specific, Laura.” Shanyin replied, drawing Shihu and settled into his own stance. 

“Think really hard about it.”

A look of realization dawned on his face as he remembered exactly what she was talking about. It was sometime after the Fall of Beacon, and he was fresh out of the hospital. Laura challenged him to a friendly sparring match and naturally, he couldn’t turn her down. The problem was, he seriously overestimated how recovered he was, and he ate asphalt two minutes after they started. Needless to say, they both agreed to put the fight off until a later date.

Looked like that day was today.

Laura slowly closed the distance between the two of them, a baton pointed at her partner. “Remember now?”

“I do," Shanyin inched closer and tapped weapons with the gunslinger. “and I accept.”

The two of them locked eyes and smirked at each other. Shanyin struck first, but Laura checked his blade, parrying to the outside as she threw a pommel strike. Shanyin grabbed her wrist and the two of them butted heads.

Both staggered, but Shanyin recovered first and moved to set the pace.

Strike. Dodge. Parry. Counter.

Their next few exchanges flowed like a dance, one that Shanyin knew all too well, and he couldn’t help but think how great his partner looked while fighting, with the way her eyes lit up, and her legs that—

He barely managed to twist out of the way of a downward strike, spinning low for a leg sweep, shifting seamlessly into a rising thrust. Laura stepped back from the sweep and parried his dao. Shanyin gave a quick flourish and moved into a flurry of sword strikes.

Laura blocked each of his incoming strikes as was slowly forced back. She figured he was going for a ring-out, so she planted her feet and pulled them together into a deadlock, trying to push back to regain lost ground.

“Having fun?” Shanyin asked with a grin as he tried to push forward.

“Of course!” Laura said, smiling back at him as she turned one of her weapons back into a gun and fired a shot right past his ear. Seeing him flinch, that distraction was all she needed to pull him off balance and shove him to the ground.

“Cheap shot!” Shanyin grumbled, looking up at his partner.

“Maybe, but it worked, didn’t it?” Laura asked, stepping back to give him some space.

“Guess so.” He mused as he sat up, before changing Shihu into a rifle and opening fire. Only for Laura to quickly deflect the shots, weaving her batons in a sinawali pattern.

“You actually learned how to block bullets?” Shanyin asked, hopping to his feet “Nice!”

“Right? Took me forever to convince mom to let me learn.” Laura said, getting back into a ready stance. “You good to keep going?”

The young martial artist shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears and changed his weapon back to its dao form. “You really need to ask?”

The two of them circled each other for a few moments before stopping to size each other up. They knew how the other fought, and saw some of each other’s new tricks. Clearly, they’d need to focus if they wanted to claim the win.

One second passed.

Then two seconds. 

At the count of three, they rushed back into the fray, dodging strikes just as quickly as they threw them.

As Laura pushed Shanyin on the defensive, he spotted something. An opening. One that might help him win the fight. He stepped in with a slash, only to see her smirk. And that’s when he knew—

Laura blocked the strike and a quick baton flick right between the eyes dazed him. Shihu was twisted from his hand as she shifted her feet. With one good twist of her hips, she slammed him back to the mats.

And goddamn, she looked good while doing it.

Shanyin snapped back to reality to see Laura had a foot on his chest and a baton pointed at his face, a mischievous smile on her face.

Laura laughed as she got off him and offered a hand. “You good?

“Definitely.” Shanyin could feel himself grinning as he took her hand and let his girlfriend help him back to his feet. “Guess I’m paying for our next date then?”

“Maybe, we can talk about that later,” Laura said, as the two of them headed for the sidelines. “But for now, let’s give Connor and Tsubaki a chance to catch up.”

[atlasequipments113]

Manufacturer of the mini batching plant is best for small to medium sites.  We also for sale small ready mix concrete plants at the best price worldwide. Equipment is designed for universal customer. The compactness of the machine is its USP and it makes it very easy to makeover the same in cramped areas. The machine is small but powerful. There are two models available in the capacity of 8-9 m3/hr. and 12-13 m3/hr. Both the designs have the same advantage of small size and mobility.

[atlas-industries]

Mobile Asphalt Drum Mix Plant - Atlas Industries

Atlas is manufacturers of mobile drum mix plant. We are supplier and exporters of mini asphalt plant with low price. Buy high quality of portable mixing plants.

[atlasindustriesmehsana]

Mini batch plant with Diesel engine for Nepal. We are portable concrete batch mixing plants manufacturer with diesel engine and electric models. There are two models available which are powered by electric motors and there is one model powered by diesel engine.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Autistic Penny hcs+ (maybe )autistic Ocean

combining all these asks, but of course!!

(i have ADHD, but A Bunch of my friends who have autism have said that i give off the same vibes, so i’m gonna talk to my pediatrician about That when i see in October)

(i decided to color code the names of the kids for this one because, coincidentally, it may be a little hard to follow cause the headcanons are All Over The Place)

Ricky and Penny have autism, and Ocean has both autism and ADHD because, come on, her having ADHD is SO OBVIOUS

Ricky was the first one to point out that maybe, just maybe, Penny and Ocean aren’t neurotypical

Penny eventually gets diagnosed once her parents go to jail, and she gets her social worker

Ocean is undiagnosed

Penny has God Awful auditory processing issues

Noel: Hey, do you know what time it is?

Penny: Huh?

Noel: I said do you kn—

Penny: OH IT’S TWELVE-THIRTY

Ocean will make food and then won’t eat it because she isn’t hungry anymore

Penny will sometimes look at people’s mouths when they speak because it’s easier for her to follow along

Penny and Ocean both NEED subtitles when watching shows

Misophonia? Misophonia

Forks scraping against a plate will make Penny full-body cringe

If someone smacks while eating, Ocean will have a viscerally angry reaction

Also misokinesia with Ocean!!

If someone is bouncing their leg in her peripheral, she gets So Mad for Literally No Reason

If she bounces her leg, though, it’s fine, but it’s a personal offense when anyone else does it

Also pen clicking!! Only SHE can click her pen. Nobody else. It’s illegal.

Textures? Textures

Ricky’s favorite textures: Fur; aloe vera; pebbles! like the small, smooth ones!; butter; leather; rags when they’re wet

Ricky’s least favorite textures: Grits; fish (it’s too chewy); school paper towels (they’re so scratchy for NO REASON); when you’re drawing with chalk and your nails scrape the sidewalk or asphalt; dry sponges

Ocean’s favorite textures: BEAUTY BLENDERS!!!! (she’s CONSTANTLY stealing Constance’s just to squeeze them like a stress ball); fur; pebbles (same as Ricky); cotton balls; silk; soft ice

Ocean’s least favorite textures: NAIL FILES (she can’t STAND nail files, they make her SQUIRM); wet paper (it makes her want to GAG); bouncing off of that, paper straws (she wants to like them SO BAD because they’re better for the environment, but she just CAN’T); wet bread; mascara (makes her face feel sticky and itchy); bananas (bad feeling in her mouth); that gross slimy sensation of oil on your hands after you try (and fail) to wash it off with water; lotion (similar to the oil, it just makes her feel uncomfortably slimy)

Penny’s favorite textures: Velvet; anything soft and fluffy; makeup brushes (even without makeup; she likes to just brush them against her face); styrofoam; that green plant foam stuff; silk; mini M&Ms

Penny’s least favorite textures: Wet paper (she seconds Ocean’s hatred, that stuff is straight from HELL); jeans (scratchy, tight, and uncomfortable); anything denim, really; rubber gloves; clothes tags

When Penny feels a nice texture, she’s gotta touch it as many times as possible

If she can, she likes to rub stuff on her face because, GOD, there’s nothing quite like feeling a good texture on your face

Ocean and Penny are SO PICKY with their food, mainly due to texture, but also taste

Ocean doesn’t eat meat, but Penny does, and if the meat makes that gross crunch-squish when she bites into it, she’s spitting it out without hesitation. She doesn’t care who sees her, she Needs It Out Of Her Mouth

Kinda similar to textures, these three will discuss wanting to eat things that are most definitely NOT edible, and the other three in the choir are just like “WHAT”

Ricky, signing: consider: fiber glass

Ocean, nodding: that’s a good one, that’s a good one. like, why would they make it look like that, and then have it be filled with millions of tiny glass shards??

Ricky, signing: RIGHT??

Ocean: what about drywall? i feel like drywall would be so good.

Ricky, signing: yes!!

Penny: i wanna eat polly pocket clothes so bad

Constance: what the FUCK are you guys TALKING ABOUT

They all mutually agree that they would eat lava if they were physically able to

Ocean’s special interest has been The Crucible/Salem Witch Trials for about four years (she’s me fr)

Echolalia with Penny!

She’ll hear someone say something, and she’ll repeat it for the rest of the day

She once would Not stop saying “beet roots” underneath her breath because Mischa said it one (1) time

In similar vein, she and Ocean will both mirror the people around them, but especially the other kids in the choir

Like, Mischa will have his hands on his hips, Ocean will see him standing like that, and she’ll unconsciously do it, too. And then Penny will see them both doing that, and she’ll copy them. So then three out of six of the choir kids are all standing like a mom who just found out their toddler colored on the walls with a marker

Unfortunately, some people sometimes take this as them mocking them

Which isn’t the case!! They aren’t trying to mock anyone by mimicking them!! It’s just this sort of instinct they have!!

Ocean is the understimulated to Penny’s overstimulated

One of the reasons why Ocean is always doing stuff is because she’s so desperate to FEEL, to be ENGAGED because she starts to feel horribly worthless when she isn’t doing anything. She gets restless and NEEDS to be doing something. Nothingness overwhelms her.

And then Penny just needs everything to STOP. Everything is going too fast, and there’s so much happening, and she can’t keep up, and her brain isn’t processing ANYTHING. She needs just one second to breathe.

Meanwhile, Ricky, a worried, properly medicated neurodivergent, is like “are you two OKAY”

Ricky has the BEST stim toys, fight me

You know those stim toy boxes? His parents get him those!

He once let Penny play with one of his fidget cubes before

He never got that fidget cube back

Speaking of stim toys!

Stimming!!!

Ricky:

Shaking his head out to do a “reset”

Biting his lips

Big blinks

Clicking his tongue

Running his tongue over his teeth

Tangling and untangling his headphones

Penny:

HAND FLUTTERS!!!

CHEWING!!

She looks like she would chew on CapriSun straws (which are the BEST to chew on, fight me)

Rocking from side-to-side

Clicking her fingernails together like she’s a baby pangolin

Lightly tugging on her earlobes

Trilling/chirping/squeaking!! I can just TELL this girl would have vocal stims like that!

Bumping someone with her head

Rubbing her thighs

OR: rubbing the surface of smooth things like desks or tables

STRETCHINGGGGGGG

Kneading things with her hands and feet

Ocean:

Idk if this is a common stim, but I do this All The Time, so: she LOVES to fold small pieces of paper. Sticky note? Folded. Receipt? Folded. A hall slip for school? Folded. She’ll fold them until the paper starts to, like, disintegrate into little flakes, and she has to get something new because it isn’t satisfying or fun when it’s deteriorating all over her hands.

Also if a bottle—or anything for that matter—has a label, it’s probably gonna get peeled off and then folded by her

Touching her neck/chest, especially when she’s focused or reading something (another thing i’ve started doing recently; idk why)

Just like Penny, she’ll click her fingernails together like she’s a baby pangolin

Pacing

Twitching her nose like a rabbit

Drumming her finger midair to the beat of a song

Walking in time with music

Ocean talks a lot, we all know this, but one of the reasons she talks so much is because she’s constantly branching off into different topics in the middle of a story. She can’t stay focused on one singular topic. It’s like she’s going on a side quest. And then another side quest. And then another side quest. And then another side quest.

She also talks Super Fast sometimes and is constantly being asked to slow down

Similarly, Ricky tends to sign Very Fast, especially when he’s engaged with what the topic of conversation is

Unfortunately, however, sometimes it’s a little hard to understand him. I took ASL for four years, so I can tell y’all that keeping up with signs is WAY HARDER than keeping up with speech.

And it’s just so frustrating for Ricky because he needs to slow down, but he has all this ENERGY and EXCITEMENT that makes it really difficult for him to sign slower

Keeping with the topic of speech habits, Ocean tends to interrupt people without really meaning to. She just gets this URGE to speak, and she can’t stop herself before the words start coming out

On the other hand, Penny is the type of person to zone out in conversations and then ask for someone to repeat themselves

Ocean has very, VERY poor impulse control. She doesn’t think before she speaks a lot of the time and will just Say Stuff that may come off Really Bad. And usually she doesn’t mean to be rude or inappropriate, she’s just Saying Stuff, and then she’ll get mad when people are angry at her with just making a comment. She just has No Filter.

Penny will forget stuff after 0.2 seconds of thinking about it

Or if you give her, say, a task with five-step instructions, she’ll have forgotten at least three of the steps by the time you’re no longer talking. So it is VITAL that she has written instructions. It’s easier to follow and remember stuff when it’s written down for her to see. If it’s not written, she WILL probably forget.

Ocean gets extremely frustrated when she can’t do something the way she wants to do it

Penny is the “can’t read that block of text, it’s too long” to Ocean’s “MUST READ IT ALL” and then Ricky’s “i’m trying to read it, but i keep going over the same line over and over again”

Ocean will forget to eat and drink for several hours, usually because she’s too focused on something, and if she breaks that focus, she Will Not be able to get it back

Penny and Ricky will both just. stare at a wall. for no reason.

Ricky is really *lets his device run out of power even though the charger is literally right there in front of him*

Stemming from her ADHD, Ocean has RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria)!

[chaoscommissioner]

I really want to buy a big, empty building (like an unused mall or some shit) and convert it into affordable, eco-friendly housing. Like- the old store fronts could be renovated into individual housing units and the massive hallway areas could be turned into huge, shared, indoor food gardens with skylights in the ceiling. We could make a community bathhouse and recycle the used water to irrigate the garden plants before the leftover water was purified and sent back to the bathhouse but like with more minerals. And we could slowly break up the asphalt parking lot outside to replant a mini forest outside. Have you seen how big those parking lots are?? SO much wasted potential! And we could put solar panels on the roof to power it!

I've got some ideas

[bittydragon]

Alone in a Cramped Universe - 4

First - Previous - Next

Note: Well would you look at that. I did it. I finally finished chapter 4! Apologies for it being a bit later than anticipated, midterms caught me off guard and I got stressed something bad. I had half the chapter written before that too, so it was painful having it half written and suddenly not having time to finish it. Oh well, it happens. This chapter is also much longer than previous chapters too. I was gonna keep going but decided to save that for the next part. Hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, fighting, minor injury (nothing graphic and no blood, thought this was a fair warning though)

Keeping himself entertained was not easy. Tommy still wasn’t quite sure where everything on the ship was yet and what he was allowed to touch. And if Wilbur was going to be a grump then he was no help to Tommy either.

He honestly wanted to become friends with Wilbur, he really did. But Wilbur was making it so hard. Tommy knew that there had to be a reason Wilbur didn’t like him. It must be really bad for Wilbur to have reacted like that when he asked.

Tommy let out a sigh. Thinking about it wasn’t going to help him out. He wandered out of the common area of the ship. Sure he had been given a mini tour after introductions to the crew and the first incident with Wilbur, but maybe he could find some new places or even hiding spots he could use.

He aimlessly wandered through the corridors, running his hand along the walls as he whistled an old tune he remembered from back on Earth.

Earth. It’s not a place he thought of often, that’s for sure. He passed one of the windows and paused, looking out at the infinite terrain of foliage before him. There were so many strange plants, the trees looking like a mutated and oversized version of daffodils with strange green fruits hanging off of them. Orange vine-like tendrils snaking up the stems, some even dangling off of the petal like leaves on the strange trees.

As strangely beautiful it was, it wasn’t Earth. He remembers his first planet he visited after leaving Earth, a strange and barren planet known only by its assigned code, D-37. D-37 was one of the many deserted planets that held civilization long ago, but the only thing remaining on its surface was a single station for ships trading goods or crewmates. It’s where he was passed off to his first crew.

Tommy grimaced at the thought. He learned the hard way that lying through his teeth to get into space was the worst decision of his life. He was surprised that they believed him though. Apparently he looked the part he was attempting to play, otherwise he wouldn’t be here today. He let out a small breath of a laugh, wondering what those officials did when they realized the truth. It was too late now but still, their reactions had to have been priceless.

But he was scared. D-37 wasn’t home and his first crew was not family. He was expected to be a perfect crewmate, which led to him being dumped at the nearest station only two days later. He remembers crying that day. It was not a fun memory to relive.

And sometimes Tommy still looks out the window when he visits a new planet, in awe of the unique scenery. And sometimes he bitterly wishes it was Earth. He misses the pale blue sky and the green ankle high grass and the asphalt roads running through cities.

He’s not sure he’ll ever see it again. It’s the only reason he’ll occasionally regret his decision to come out here. He misses Earth.

But not the people. Never the people.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from somewhere in the ship and Tommy immediately tensed and whipped to the noise. His eyes widened as he realized the direction it came from. That wasn’t where Wilbur’s room was. That wasn’t Wilbur.

As soon as Tommy realized the potential severity of the situation, he scrambled towards Wilbur’s room, taking care to be as quiet as he could be. He was silently panting for breath as he reached Wilbur’s door and he all but punched the button to open said door.

A startled Wilbur whipped to glare at Tommy, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“I thought I told you not to… Tommy?” 

Some of the irritation seeped out of Wilbur’s face as he began to notice how out of breath Tommy was and how scared the human looked. He could feel a small twinge of terror creep inside of him as Tommy look relieved to see him here.

Like he wasn’t expecting to actually see Wilbur in his room.

Tommy wordlessly walked towards Wilbur with poorly concealed panic in his eyes and reached out to cup his hand around Wilbur’s head. Tommy didn’t miss the way Wilbur’s eyes darted to the hand that was the same size as his head with some worry in his expression.

Tommy looked over Wilbur, looking for something that Wilbur wasn’t sure of what it was.

“What are you-?”

“We need to hide. Now.”

Tommy stood up to full height as a crash sounded from in the ship, definitely closer than it was earlier. Wilbur whipped his head towards the noise, eyes dilated into slits as he finally began to realize what was happening. Two gravelly voices could be heard approaching, raising the panic in the two shipmates.

Tommy quickly scooped Wilbur into his arms and scanned the room before his eyes landed on the closet. That would do.

Wilbur didn’t have a chance to protest before Tommy flung it open and set him inside. Tommy gave Wilbur a small, nervous smile.

“Just stay here ok?”

Tommy began to close the door when suddenly Wilbur flung his clawed hand out and gripped the door. Tommy looked down at the lizard and was surprised to see an unreadable expression on his face.

“You are not fighting them alone. If you die or even get hurt, Phil is going to fucking kill me. We defend this ship together, you hear?”

Tommy froze in surprise and stared at Wilbur like he was crazy. The two of them glanced out of the room in a panic as footsteps seemed to grow closer. Wilbur grabbed Tommy’s clothes and pulled the human closer to his level with a snarl.

“Together. We fight together.” Wilbur only whispered and kept an angry expression on his face, but Tommy could easily hear the fearful waiver in his voice. He wanted to argue for the lizard to stay here, that if he was scared he didn’t have to help. But Tommy had already figured out how headstrong this alien could get, he wouldn’t just listen to Tommy. Especially not Tommy seeing how much he hates him.

Tommy stood up and nodded to Wilbur. “Fine. But they’re close. Let’s get them out of here.”

Tommy slowly made his way back to the door of the room, Wilbur trailing quietly behind him. The two peeked out of the room to see two aliens currently rummaging through the storage closet, complaining about the lack of valuable possessions.

Tommy had to keep himself from snickering at the two aliens, he was smart enough to know that the valuable junk weren’t generally kept in those closets on crewships like these. Amatuers. Even Tommy could do better.

Tommy was going to make a move until Wilbur suddenly scurried out from behind him and ran at and tackled the closer alien to the ground. They let out a surprised yell as they fell to the ground, their horns making a sickening sound as they hit the ground. They were bound to have cracks at a minimum after that fall.

He watched in amazement as Wilbur kept the ram-like alien pinned to the ground, using his body weight to hold them down and tightly holding their damaged horn to the ground. Wilbur hissed as they let out a bleat and tried to swipe at him, applying more pressure to the horn and earning another crack at the pressure. Tommy hadn’t realized quite how strong Wilbur’s species was until now, he could probably take an alien a foot taller than himself with enough willpower.

The other ram-like alien let out a cry and immediately began running towards Wilbur to knock him off of their companion. Tommy narrowed his eyes and quickly pushed himself off of the doorframe and quickly placed himself in between Wilbur and the second ram. 

At the sight of Tommy, their eyes widened and they immediately began to try and stop themselves, only making themselves trip and fall forwards from their own momentum, right at Tommy’s feet. They were quick to flip over and get back to their hooves to try and make a break for it, but Tommy grabbed a hold of their clothes and lifted them into the air. They weren’t exactly light but Tommy’s held heavier aliens before.

Tommy tsked. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret now, just give us our stuff back and you two can scamper off.” Tommy was glad that the ram alien in his grip had much less fight than the one Wilbur was holding, though their fearful bleats were pulling at his heartstrings. He’d rather not hurt anyone but these two were going to steal from the crew.

“Yo! Lizard boy! Tell your fucking pet to unhand my friend and we’ll leave without a fight. We ain’t gonna mess with no human guard dog of yours, promise.” 

Tommy froze. He watched as the ram he was holding earnestly nodded along with their buddy’s remarks, stuttering out vague agreements. Tommy slowly turned to face the alien that Wilbur was holding down and locked eyes with them, their expression growing more fearful by the second. He missed how even Wilbur had froze and stared at the alien in shock, in pure disbelief at what they said.

“What did you call me?” 

Tommy’s words came out slow and calculated. The ram immediately blanched and tried backpedaling, stuttering out a vague mess of apologies and pleads to Wilbur to protect them. None of the apologies were remotely close to being directed towards Tommy.

Tommy narrowed his eyes and brought his gaze over to Wilbur. “Get off of him Wilbur. I’ll finish this.”

For the first time, Wilbur listened to Tommy and scurried off of them with no hesitation. He watched as the lizard quickly pressed himself into a corner, out of the way. Good, can’t have Wilbur getting caught up in this.

The ram on the ground took a moment to realize what was happening. He tried to get up to his feet to run but as soon as he was standing, Tommy threw his companion at him and knocked the two back to the ground.

They both stared at Tommy who was now standing right above them, glowering at the two robbers.

“You chose the wrong ship to rob. Nobody messes with my crew or calls me a fucking pet. Nobody.”

Tommy wrung his hands, ready to fight the two aliens in front of him. But then he glanced back towards Wilbur. He hadn’t noticed earlier but the lizard looked terrified. Of Tommy.

He sighed and brought his gaze back towards the two rams on the ground. He wordlessly stuck out his hand, making a small grabbing motion. The two thieves quickly scrambled to grab their bags full of stolen goods and all but shoved them into Tommy’s arms.

“Now leave our fucking ship.” Neither hesitated and both of the rams quickly scrambled to their feet and ran out of the ship as fast as they could. 

As soon as the two were out of sight, Tommy dropped the bags with a sigh. That was a lot. And they now would have to put everything back and check for anything broken on the ship. Based on the crashing from earlier there was at least something broken.

But right now Tommy had bigger worries. He nervously glanced over to where Wilbur was still standing in the corner, his gaze locked onto Tommy. He could see Wilbur trembling, and Tommy was positive it was from a mixture of fear and adrenaline. 

If Wilbur wasn’t scared of him before he most definitely was now. Tommy wasn’t sure if he could ever truly be friends with Wilbur now.

[and-the-ocean-burned]

Heyyyyy soooo I'm back with more self indulgent fanfiction that no one wanted or asked for! No real trigger warning for this one, soo enjoy!!

Ronan rolled over in bed onto his side, sneering at the shadowy corner of his bedroom for a few moments, then with a frustrated groan turned back again. How long had he been laying here? How many hours had he spent sleeplessly tossing and turning in the ruins of his sheets?

He didn't know, all he knew was that he was fucking tired. Tired of this, and just tired.

He grunted irritably as he sat up in bed, idly massaging the nape of his neck with a clammy palm and a grimace. "Maybe Gansey was awake," The thought made Ronan feel a little better. He stood up, all of his muscles protested, his body was exhausted. Every attempt to dream lately had done nothing but gotten his ass handed to him by some fucked up nightmare. He was tired of them too.

He opened his bedroom door, and peered out into the pitch of the second floor of Monmouth. There weren't any lights on that he could tell, Gansey more than likely wasn't awake.

A stab of lonesomeness ran through Ronan then, his insomnia was easier to cope with when he was in Gansey's company. He'd listen to music with one or both earbuds in, and occasionally look over to his friend sculpting another streetlight for his mini diorama of Hennrietta, or scrawling notes in the margins of his journal, or gingerly snipping a leaf from his mint plant with the tiny filigree scissors Blue had given him as a gift. It was easier to forget why he couldn't sleep when he was with Gansey.

The refrigerator light tinted him ghostly yellow as he opened it to rummage through its contents. He pulled out a two liter of soda, and chugged several large mouthfuls straight from the bottle before twisting the cap on firmly, and placing the bottle back onto the shelf. 

His nerves still burned, his body wanted him to sleep, screamed for him to sleep. He could feel the beginnings of thick black ooze accumulating at the back of his throat, in his lungs, he could taste it. Instead of acknowledging the dread pooling low in his belly, he scooped up the BMW keys, and trekked out the door and down the stairwell of Monmouth manufacturing.

Ronan didn't know of a cure for his insomnia, his dreams were wicked, terrifying things, and even if he had a good handle on them to start, it only took one small slip up, a single self deprecating thought, to have him submerged in a pool of acid, or helplessly pinned to the ground under a pissed off night terror, or perpetually stuck being walked away from by everyone he cares about. Besides Gansey, there was only one other thing that he knew helped. 

St. Agnes's fearsome silhouette was starting to pierce the horizon as Ronan drove. He let out a tense, exhausted breath, just being close enough to see the church's three vicious spires already felt like it had helped some of the coiling tension in his muscles untangle itself.

He parked. This wasn't the first time sleeplessness had dragged him here by the throat, in fact, Ronan had lost count of how many nights just like this one that he'd found himself here in the archway of the old church. Probably as many times as he'd found himself here on Sunday mornings, he thought.

He dipped the tips of his fingers in holy water, and sat down on one of the ebony colored pews. He pressed his palms and fingers together, and rested his forehead against his thumbs, he prayed.

The moon poured its eerie light over his pale skin through St. Agnes' enormous stained glass windows as he sat silent, painting him a wild kaleidoscope of a boy. Eventually he drifted off, still perched like that, and began to dream.

--

He was outside, everything was all sunbeam warmth, and brilliant white light, and lush grass between his toes. He squinted to focus his vision, Adam was standing a little ways ahead of him reaching above his head to pluck something from a furiously overgrown plant.

Ronan recognized it, the wild blackberry vines growing at one edge of the woods that surrounded the barns. He broke into a sprint, stopping just beside Adam, who turned to him and smiled. Ronan's heart was an underground coal fire of affection for him, his whole body smoldered with it.

Adam offered one of the sun ripened berries to Ronan, who enthusiastically accepted, allowing Adam to place the small fruit on his tongue. He crushed it against the roof of his mouth. Something was wrong.

It tasted like rot.

The air around them dropped drastically in temperature, and the sky dimmed with malice. Adam drew back a bleeding finger, something was egregiously wrong. 

Black began to dribble from the thorn pricked gash in Adam's index finger, not blood, unmaking. Ronan felt sick. He spit furiously. Black. 

Adam's panicked eyes darted up to meet Ronan's, he let the berries in his hands tumble to the ground. The unmaking gushed now, rolling down Adam's wrist and forearm like thick black veins, and poured in several opaque streams from his elbow into the grass between his feet. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Ronan gasped, he couldn't understand what was happening in front of him, he was seeing it, but he wasn't processing it. He could only feel the sick adrenaline clawing up his spine, could only taste decay in his mouth, could only watch helplessly.

Ronan feverishly grappled for his wrist, tugging Adam towards him, and wiping at the cut hysterically. The black just smeared, and welled up from the gash again. Had it been that large before? That open? That deep?

He whined brokenly, clasping Adam's slippery hand in his own, tight. Hot tears stung his eyes, Adam cheeks were streaked with them too, only his were the color of midnight. His mouth hung open around a silent word.

"Adam..." Ronan didn't recognize his own voice as it left his throat, only knew it was his because he could feel how it cracked half way through. Adam looked at him then, agonized.

"Ronan-" Adam abruptly dropped his eyes to his chest where glistening black was slowly soaking through his faded tee shirt. Dread flooded Ronan. Adam was dying, being unmade right in front of his eyes, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Adam swayed, immediately losing his footing. Ronan braced him with a slick arm, they collapsed to the ground which was now a filling pool of unmaking as dense and black as asphalt. 

A horrible noise escaped Ronan then, a strangled ugly beast of a thing. His face twisted up with the force of it, his hand clasped the side of Adam's sticky jaw. Adam's glossy, far away eyes flickered up to him, a line of black trickled from one of his nostrils. His lips parted, strings of tar colored unmaking clung to them, and coated his teeth. His breath was shallow, and bitter smelling. 

Ronan wheezed for air, but there wasn't enough. There might never be enough again. "Adam!" He rasped again between more awful sounding sobs. His heart felt dangerously close to shattering.

"This is all your f-fault..." Adam gurgled, coughing once, twice, then trembled violently against Ronan. "You break everything you touch-" Ronan's heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest.

No! This is wrong! He hadn't meant this to happen, please! He would do anything! Just make it stop! Make it stop! Adam!

I'm sorry!

Adam's chest rose shallowly and sunk down once, and then he was very still. His face and body were marred by smudgy black. His eyes were fixed on something above them both, everything adam-like gone out of them. 

I'm sorry…

--

Ronan gasped awake, his chest stung like a bitch suddenly filled with so much air, and his shirt clung to his skin uncomfortably. He couldn't stop trembling, his face felt wet. He caught a glimpse of his hands, black. His heart spasmed, then waking logic kicked in. They had just been in the shadow of the pew in front of him, they were perfectly unmarked upon further inspection. 

Ronan swore, took a few deep breaths, and swore again, wiping haphazardly at his face with the backs of his hands. He was never dreaming again. Sleep deprivation be damned.

He could at least find some small comfort in the fact that he hadn't brought anything back from that nightmare with him. That did very little to settle him though, he was badly shaken. Paranoia nipped at the back of his mind, he couldn't help it, horrible scenarios clawed their way to the forefront of his thoughts. He needed to check on Adam.

--

Adam lived in a quaint little apartment space above the administrative office of St. Agnes. Little meaning that if Ronan stood straight up he'd hit his head on the ceiling regardless of where he was in the room, and quaint meaning that he didn't understand how Adam managed to find reasons to want to live there. But if he never had to have that argument with Adam again it'd be too soon.

The stairs up to the door of Adam's room groaned a protest with nearly every step Ronan took, and the door itself was slightly warped with age revealing uneven slivers of dull light from behind it.

Adam would more than likely be asleep by now, it was late, and a school night. Ronan wasn't sure how late it was, he'd left his phone back at the factory, but he needed to know Adam was okay, needed to see him with his own eyes.

He lifted his knuckles to knock, and all at once every ounce of his nerve left him. His hand dropped back down to his side. He couldn't bring himself to possibly wake Adam when his sleep was so important to him. Sleep was a commodity he got very little of, and therefore took seriously.

Ronan turned back the way he'd come, but a sudden bright light from behind him threw his shadow onto the floor. It rippled wildly against the silhouette of the staircase, inhuman. 

Adam had opened the door so quietly that Ronan hadn't even heard it, and was staring at Ronan when he turned around. Ronan was very visibly relieved at the sight of him.

"Jesus, you look terrible." Adam said.

"Thanks Parrish, you look good too." 

An easy smile spread across Adam's face then. "Sorry," he said.

Ronan shrugged, but his chest felt warm.

"What're you doing here? We have a test tomorrow, shouldn't you be getting some sleep or something?" Adam asked then, his eyebrows had deep wrinkles between them, and his eyes were narrowed, but Ronan knew from experience that it was more out of concern than judgement.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ronan replied with some heat to his tone, but it was all for show, he had no idea who he was trying to fool here. Adam's smile was a barely there thing, clearly he wasn't buying it either.

"I was studying, what's your excuse?" Adam replied evenly. Ronan was silent. Adam held his gaze for a tense moment.

"What was the nightmare about?" Leave it to him to see right through Ronan. He looked at Adam in a way that said Please don't make me say it. Please. Adam seemed to understand that Ronan wouldn't, or maybe couldn't talk about it. He stepped out of the doorway to allow Ronan in.

It was warm, and it smelled like moss and dew and motor oil, which was to say that it smelled like Adam. A slumping desk lamp illuminated the room with a pleasant dimness, a pile of textbooks lay open to random pages beneath it. Grades won out over sleep on Adam's list of priorities.

Ronan navigated the room with the ease of familiarity, seating himself on the edge of Adam's mattress, and resting his elbows on his knees. Adam followed suit, sitting down close enough that their sides and thighs were touching.

"So are we going to keep on acting like everything's fine?" Adam asked bluntly, but there wasn't any anger in his voice, the way he'd said it made the words sound factual. "Or are you going to talk to me about it this time?" The question should've been simple, after all he'd known this was coming, but it seemed like the most complicated thing in the world for Ronan to answer right now. 

Couldn't Adam just leave it alone?

"The first one," Ronan tried to sound flippant, but all his bravado had left him at the door, and they both knew it. 

Now Adam was a little bit angry, he stood up quickly, Ronan's wide eyes followed him. "Why do you even come here then?" Ronan looked both like a hurt puppy, and a cagey dog backed into a corner. He looked ready to cry, or ready to bite. Adam didn't back down. "You always show up looking half dead, or actually half dead, and we just never talk about it! Well I'm tired of pretending like I'm not constantly worried sick how you'll show up next, or if you'll show up at all! I know you Ronan, talk to me please!" His voice broke on please, he looked just as tired as Ronan felt.

I'm sorry…

"You died," Ronan's voice was barely above a whisper, his gaze had at some point fallen from Adam, and was now trained on something invisible in the middle of the floor. If he'd looked ready to cry before, he looked damn near like he might completely fall apart now.

Adam's heart and stomach sank to his feet, "What?"

"You died! In my arms! And it was my fault!" Ronan shouted, he hadn't meant to, but he couldn't help it. All of the emotions of the dream gushed like a fresh wound. "Do you feel better now that you know, because I sure as fuck don't!" His mouth was an uneven line, he hurt all over.

There was a heavy silence between them for a moment, Ronan's eyes burned holes through the floor while Adam's burned holes through Ronan.

There was silence, and then there was the sound of cotton shirts rustling almost inaudible against one another. Adam's arms wrapped around Ronan tightly, his hands possessively, protectively gripped Ronan's ribs and the back of his shaved head. Adam pressed his cheek tentatively against Ronan's, his scent encompassed every fiber of Ronan's being. He melted into the touch.

There was silence, and then there was the sound of Adam's soft, honeyed Virginia accent in Ronan's ear. "Whatever you saw, whatever happened in that dream, it wasn't real. I'm real." Ronan gasped in a breath, he shuttered against Adam. "And I'm not going anywhere."

There was silence, and then there was the indefinite sound of Ronan Lynch crying against Adam Parrish's shoulder. His tee shirt was wet with tears, and hot with Ronan's shaky exhales, which normally would be an incredibly uncomfortable sensation, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He stroked the short, stubbly hairs at the base of Ronan's neck. Ronan looped his arms around Adam's waist then too, and held him back just as tight.

They stayed like that for a long time, long enough that Ronan thought he could see the dawn starting to tint the room orange. He recounted his nightmare.

After Ronan's shaking had subsided, and his sobs had become more or less quiet sniffles, they'd somehow ended up laying in a mess of limbs and warmth in Adam's little bed. Adam dug into his pocket, procuring both his phone and a tangle of headphone wires that he fought with for a few seconds thereafter. 

Adam tucked one of the earbuds away in his right ear, and placed the other gingerly into Ronan's left. Then with one thumb, he tapped his screen in a familiar pattern, unlocking his phone. Ronan's breath hitched as Adam selected a playlist of edm music, and Ronan's bare heart started sounding through the earbuds. He felt exposed, more vulnerable than he'd allowed himself to be in a very long time, but also safer than he'd felt in a long time. Known.

Ronan's other ear rested heavily on Adam's chest, he could feel the thud of Adam's heart against it, could hear his breathing as his chest fell and rose in time with the pounding electronic loops. His nerves tingled and burned.

He let his eyes fall closed, and sleep unfurl over him like a blanket. His dream was this, Adam, and Adam's lips, and Adam's smile, and Adam's freckles, and Adam's hands. Only Adam, and warmth.