#bitchumen

[penguingirl465]

Trinkets

I want to collect trinkets for you.

The Lego head you found nestled between the bitchumen tells me you love me. That I’m on your mind as much as you poison mine.

And oh, do you corrode me.

The image of you eats away at any other comprehensible thought.

You are my meditation. My reparation.

Why would I think of anything when I can think of you?

Why would I learn anything when I can learn you?

Why would I look to the stars when I can trace the constellations on your skin? The freckles on your shoulder tell me you’re mine.

Why would I see the world with my own eyes when I can catch a glimpse of the universe in the reflection of your own?

Would you let me use your eyes as mine? Do you love me enough to let me pluck them out for a moment, simply to borrow them?

I would for you.

Would you let me sew my flesh to your own? To make me eternal through your own body? To make us one?

I believe we are twin flames.

It came to me in a dream. You stood beneath the sunset and I screamed as you burst into flames.

Your golden hair turned a sinister amber and your flesh pooled at my feet.

You stared at me as I curdled with agony.

The flames liked at my skin as I molded you anew with a piece of my rib.

I build you and I burn you. I love you and I hurt you.

You handed me a shard of sea glass as we crouched on oval stones. And you smiled.

That’s how I knew you loved me.

-penguin girl

[quatschmachen]

Bitchumen

A nice heartwarming sort of xmas fic. Phone call takes place in 2000, the xmas in 1999.

Edward rants to someone about something.

XXX “Right, like you can actually understand what’s going on.” The sarcasm dripped thick like bitumen from Edward’s tongue, the sticky anger clinging to every surface.“You treating me with the polite decency of a stranger doesn’t actually make you a good person, Calvin – it doesn’t even make you a friend.”

Blowing a breath out, Edward rubbed his face, his shoulders stuck between wanting to spike up in stiff defense or simply drop down in defeat.

“Which is why you get the couch,” here his arms crossed, brooking no argument, “I don’t even know why you thought it was going to be fine just showing up, months after being an asshole thinking I would even put you up. I just know Edith would have you out on your ass, and honestly you’re lucky you got me when I was even in town. Hold on… Mr. Big Shot, you have enough money to get a fucking hotel room, why the shit am I even considering you to stay here with me? Why the hell am I not throwing you out on your ass?”

Another breath out, and Edward sighed, “No, this won’t do.”

With a slump, he plopped onto the couch, and glanced around his small living room, wondering why the hell he was even practicing this as a conversation. Calvin hadn’t dropped by in months. It wasn’t like he was going to any time soon. The lines had been clearly drawn, and even an entitled oil cowboy wasn’t going to pretend everything hadn’t changed.Apparently the weeks off were just giving him time to go crazy. Usually this would be the time he would jet off to Montreal, but instead he was stuck in his house losing it. He was worried if he showed up on Étienne’s doorstep he would just start crying. Definitely not a thing to do.

His thoughts were disrupted as the telephone began to ring. With a sigh, he rolled off the couch and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Eddy!” Étienne’s voice rang out through the phone and wrapped around him like a warm hug.

“’Tienne,” Edward breathed out, automatically relaxing, he flomped down into the seat beside the telephone.

“I’ve been calling for weeks and thought you had died,” he joked, but the edge of worry was still there.

“Sort of had.” Edward murmured, “Actually I sort of moved out, I guess. Mac came down in January and I ended up moving north with him and picked up a hitch. Just got off and am laying around at home too dead to do anything.”

“Hitch?”

“Uhm working in the oil patch. Living at camp, pretty much isolated from the world…”

“Surrounded by big burly men? You could have at least sent me a postcard, Eddy,” Étienne teased, but there was an underlying tone Edward had difficulty deciphering, “I was thinking if it was my turn to come pull you out of the swamp of misery.”

“I guess I could have but… to be honest it all sort of just happened?” Edward sighed, “And once I was up in Fort Mac, and then out working, it’s difficult to really communicate. Just work till you drop, then into the camp to exercise or watch porn.”

“What? They actually supply porn?”

“And sometimes even prostitutes, but that’s apparently not truly allowed…” Edward paused, “but unfortunately no prostitutes were of interest to me.”

“How unfortunate. I was up to my eyeballs with inconvenient work,” Étienne paused, “Christmas was about the same as always, Suzette passes along her best wishes. The food was divine, and I ended up losing an arm-wrestling match to Élyse.”

Edward laughed, “What were the stakes?”

“Hmmm, well she got to eat my slice of cake; it was some terrible cake Samuel had made – yes I know, please believe me when I say he made this cake. Truly no real artisan of food would have produced something as terrible as that cake. I think it ostensibly was supposed to be a fruit cake – with a thick layer of chalky marzipan on top. Somehow he managed to over-alcohol a cake while having it be dry at the same time. I was ready to submit it to the Guinness Book of Records…”

“So why was Élyse battling you for your slice?”

“You see, I may have already had a fight or two with Samuel – he has some new boytoy, and he was being so insipid and sickly about it, I may have been ready to fight over any little thing. Élyse figured if I got rid of the slice via arm wrestling it could possibly save Christmas or something. Yadda yadda. Apparently no one seems to enjoy the Christmases when Samuel breaks down in angry tears and yells for an hour – not sure why when I find that sooooooo entertaining.”

“God I wish I was there for that… seeing Samuel’s face as if he was punched when he tries to cry elegantly is so therapeutic…” Edward murmured, “I feel like my Christmas was just me being the crying one.”

“Crying? What happened, Édouard?”

Squiggling in his seat, Edward wondered how much he should tell. A part of him wanted to spill it all, but another part wondered if that would be too much of an inconvenience. How much of his stupid worries did Étienne really want? Closing his eyes, Edward pretended they were in the same room together, maybe even touching, head on Étienne’s shoulder, not necessarily looking at the man, but bodies snuggled up, his hair getting played with. Those small stolen moments of bliss, where the worries got spilled, and he didn’t worry about the consequences.

“Christmas was so awkward; I don’t even know where to begin. The entire time I desperately wished I had gone to yours… it felt like the last time I try to be a functional person among them… hell, I only went because I thought maybe I could improve relations with people… start the new millennium off with some hope about the future.”

It really had been terrible. They had held it at the ranch – Bert’s ranch. Why the hell did he think hanging out with people at the ranch would be a good idea? Surrounded by people you probably should know better, but in reality only held passing pleasantries with. The one bright spot had been Calvin. Calvin who seemed to be best buddies with everyone who arrived, Calvin who smiled brightly at him and argued with him, distracting him from the knot of anxiety he was harbouring over whether he should come out during Christmas or hold off until New Years?

He was attempting small talk with Jo, who was talking at him about how they should go shopping together (did she not do other stuff?), when he overheard Bert loudly say “I personally don’t think those fags should be given the deal.”

It felt like time had slowed down for Edward. No one seemed to pause or care. Orson in fact nodded along with Bert’s rant, sipping his Sprite. Jo continued on with her plans for her next visit, and somewhere nearby Red laughed at a joke Madeline made. As he observed the room to see if there was any reaction to Bert’s loud rant, everyone was involved in their own conversations. Calvin was in the distance deep in conversation with someone he could not quite make out. 

Right, this was not the place. He still wanted turkey dinner, and as he dimly nodded along to Jo, Edward felt small. He had no allies here. Well, that wasn’t true. He was sure Edith supported him, but one in how many? Edward didn’t want to ‘ruin Christmas’.

“And you know how I’ve been thinking about coming out and stuff, but uh, can I just say no? If you were in the room you would understand – seriously Étienne, these people who claim to be my so called family would just as well lynch me as their Christmas bonfire – I dunno they could just douse me in bitumen and light me up human torch Christian martyr style for bringing the faggotry home for Christmas… Soooo I didn’t want to ruin Christmas and make the event awkward for everyone,” Edward related over the phone.

“And then horror of horrors, Orson managed to corner me in what he thinks is jovial conversation. It felt like everything he had to say to me was condescension masked in care and concern – honestly I am not sure how he even manages that. I think he felt like it was his civic duty to carry on a conversation with me. He even reminisced about the temple open house he dragged me to. Ok honestly I went to the open house out of curiosity, to see what sort of cult he’s in, but I didn’t think he would already be reminiscing about something that had literally JUST happened. Temple? Yeah, a Mormon temple just opened up in my city… so it meant I had the pleassssuuure of Orson coming up for the Open House and dragging me along. Stay with me? God no, please ‘Tienne I’m not that insane, what would I do if he snooped and found my big old dildo? Yeah he was staying with some church people since he was volunteering and such.”

“I think I wanted to die when he sat down at the piano – yeah, I didn’t even think Bert ever tuned that thing, but knowing Orson maybe he came extra early to tune it, and began banging out the Christmas carols. Like he’s talented and all, and I don’t mind a round of Jingle Bells, but he really has this creepy 1950s vibe and I wanted to roll my eyes when his eyes started to shine with unshed tears at Away in a Manger and O Holy Night.” Edward twisted the cord around his finger, as he listened to Étienne chuckle. Apparently the tactic was avoid talking about himself and instead rant about goody-two-shoes Orson? “You should count yourself lucky you don’t have to deal with him on a regular basis… mmm? Yeah he is kind, considerate and is literally the guy to volunteer for the worst tasks but there is something about him where he is a little too perfect? Like somehow can’t let my hair down around him type of deal. Which makes him perfect for Lilith – as she always has her hair up, haha.”

Edward had relaxed into his seat, somehow feeling lighter, as the words slipped out, “And then New Years was somehow worse… no I wasn’t at the ranch. I probably should have taken you up on your fireworks show, because the one here is uh Edmonton grade. You know – trying real hard but still somehow failing to miss the mark,” he chuckled at his own joke, not picking up on the strained tension from Étienne over the phone. “Calvin came up, which surprised me since I assumed he would want to be gallivanting about in Calgary, but apparently he wanted to spend it with his best buddy which is me? Somehow? Don’t worry Teddy, you’re still my best friend…” Edwards voice lowered, as he realized what he was about to say, admit. Pause. “So how was your New Years? Aahh why are you yelling – oh you’re saying I didn’t mention why New Years sucked? It’s because it wasn’t with you, darlin’.”

Somehow Edward couldn’t do it. Couldn’t quite bring himself around to admitting he had come out to Calvin. How he had fallen into a depression when he got outright rejected. “Hmm? Well, how else can I put it… while I could have been kissing you and sucking your cock, I instead got to hold Calvin’s hair back as he literally puked in my poinsettias… yes… mmhmm. The poor plant didn’t make it.”

Tangling his finger in the phone cord, Edward found himself relaxing as Étienne told him about his New Years event, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. The other man’s voice soothing him. Trying to be home for Christmas and the New Years - attempt to enter the new millennium as a man of his own place, had been a major mistake.

He should have kept to his original plans of escaping to Montreal, escaping his own clay dirt to mold himself into his own dream man.Sometimes he wondered if he loved Étienne or simply wanted to be Étienne. A complicated mixture of feelings confusing him ever more when it came to that man.

“Visit? I would love to visit… oh wait, you want to come visit me? When? Hmm let me… check my calendar.” Edward sat up, looking around, and then picked up the phone, carefully picking his way into the kitchen, so he could squint at the calendar. His telephone cord ran out though, so he had to do an awkward strain, trying not to unplug the phone, while seeing his own scribbled-in life.

Well… the only thing really was his work shifts. Everything else a blank. “How does this time work? You’re booked up. Alright…” Edward and Étienne haggled over dates, until somehow, it lined up that Edward was going to Montreal. A subtle shift, but as Edward said with some practicality – that’s just how it lined up. As he hung up the phone, he wrote down the date of his trip, feeling better. Now in between work was a small bright spot, one small thing to look forward to.He was not as friendless as he thought, and, perhaps with enough courage, he could finish his New Years story.        

[kwonhozhi]

catch me 8 yrs old with my friends calling people bitumen

[bitchumen]

BITCHUMEN

[edenmuses]

Rainbow

Folding my vocabulary

Inside my copper suitcase

Flitting through the spaces

That reside between places

Noting yellow dandelions

Peppered along the bitchumen

Caressing the clouds

Dragging fingertips through

The silky undertones of

Citrus notes

Dabbling in the rays

Passing through

Eons of time

[natpeabct]

Raw Dartar

Today we got clarification on how the raw data summative works. The rubric is very straightforward and details what the teacher is going to look for. One of the six criteria is about testing early, as early as week 1. We didn’t even have formed teams until week 2 so we’ve missed the boat on that one unfortunately. During the process of going through the rubric, we were pleased to recognise that, although it didn’t feel it, we had actually been testing early and often with testers in real environments. 

Apart from that, today consisted of going big on writing the deeper stories for the clothes. I wrote two, one about my token season of rugby, the other about my national* dodgeball championship (*not really national). Here is the dodgeball one:

Won the national* dodgeball championship in this. (*not really national)

I use to play social dodgeball with a few mates for a laugh. Turned out if you bring cricket, softball, rugby and basketball players together for dodgeball they do pretty well. We were winning all of our games and had the opportunity to trail for the Otago squad. Me and two friends made the same team : Pegasus. We were all the “sprinters”, they are the ones who have to rush out to the balls and shovel them back to the throwers. Our team was really good, we didn’t have the star players that the other Otago squads did, but we just gelled perfectly. We were training for the National Tournament that we were hosting, teams from all over the country were coming and there was even a rumour of a team from Fiji coming. A week before the tournament, every team that wasn’t from Otago pulled out… so yeah that sucked. We ran the tournament against each other instead and ended up winning, I even won the final round of the trophy game with a bullet of a throw. I continued to wear my Pegasus top on the daily and even wore it out on the road works with Fulton Hogan, ended up getting bitchumen from the roads on it, trust me when I say that bitchumen doesn’t come out of clothing.

[wizardlyghost]

are you the road because you sound like youre made of bitchumen

[fluffcat13]

Random Weekly Stories: Week 2

A few years ago, I was with my family in Switzerland for Christmas. we spent a few days with our grandparents, before we headed off to the alps, where we spent a short time in Bergun, a small mountain town really high up.

now, a bit of a quick explanation. basically, in Bergun, there's a road that goes from the town to a train station at the top of the closest mountain. during the winter, this road is closed, as it completely freezes over. the town, however, embraced this, and every winter they set up a speed camera on the road and open it up as a giant sled track, and any sledders can take the train up to the top and ride down at breakneck speeds.

now, my family brought three sleds. one for my brother and father, one for my mother and sister, and my uncle and I took the fastest one. we went up and down the mountain all day at one point. but on the last day in the mountains, my father and I went out at midnight, with my uncle's sled, when the whole track was empty.

at the top, we sat on the sled and pushed off, and then from there it was a cold blur of snow, ice and bitchumen. just before we reached the speed camera, however, we bothe lay as far back as possible, and sped up even more.

and then, as we passed the sign showing our speed, I only had a second to see it before we sped past, but it showed 65km/h, plain and clear.

after that run, we got some hot drinks and celebrated being the fastest on the mountain that winter.

[cursethecreativeprocess]

Canola Conversations

Coming home

With blackened knees

And chlorophyll feet

A spark in my eye

And spring in my step

Pulling crushed canola

From the cracks in my shoes

Is how I want to feel

Forever

Sunlit afternoons

And comfortable conversations

As the bitchumen turns to gravel

And the moon begins to rise

Snacking on the sunlight

And the satiating energy

Of safety, trust and togetherness

Is how I want to live

Forever

[unsungblue]

I hate concrete I hate bitchumen

[kings-research]

Bitumen vs Asphalt

What’s the difference between Asphalt and Bitumen? Should I use Bitumen or Asphalt?

Bitumen is actually the liquid binder that holds asphalt together. The term bitumen is often mistakenly used to describe asphalt.

A bitumen-sealed road has a layer of bitumen sprayed and then covered with an aggregate. This is then repeated to give a two-coat seal.

Asphalt is produced in a plant that heats, dries and mixes aggregate, bitumen and sand into a composite mix. It is then applied through a paving machine on site as a solid material at a nominated or required thickness, relative to the end use. Asphalt results in a smoother and more durable asphalt road surface than a bitumen-sealed road.

Know more@ https://www.kingsresearch.com/post/global-bitumen-market?utm_source=Atish

What is Bitumen?

Bitumen is a binding agent produced from petroleum. Bitumen is known for being strongly adhesive and resistant to damage from water and oil spills. This makes bitumen the ideal binder for asphalt because asphalt is commonly used as a surface for roads, car parks and driveways.

Bitumen can be produced to different specifications depending on how it’s going to be used but in all cases, bitumen is created by distilling crude oil. This process removes the lighter liquid and leaves a thick sticky substance that, in the case of asphalt, will hold heavy aggregate like stones and gravel with sand.

Bitumen can also be confused with tar, which is another binding agent that when mixed with aggregate, makes tarmac.

Common bitumen misspellings: bitumin, bit umin, bitch umen, bitchumen, bitch umen, bitchamen, bitch amen, bichement, biche ment, bichman, bich man, bitchamin, bitch amin, bitchemen, bitche men, bitchimen, bitchi men, bitchimin, bitchman, bitchimum, bitchi mum, bitchmen, bitchomen, bitcho men, bitchumin, bitcumen, bitcu men, or bituman.

What is the Difference Between Asphalt and Bitumen?

Bitumen is often misused as a term when describing asphalt and can be confusing for many people. In the UK, most people will say bitumen when describing an aggregate mixture of bitumen, stones or gravel and sand. In Australia, we call the mixture asphalt.

[quatschmachen]

Fanfiction Masterpost

Project Canada Fanfiction

Decided to reorganize this so it is in order of reading since even I am confused at this point.

2000′s Arc

Bitchumen - Ed, Etienne

Out - Edgary

Fresh Powder - Ed, Edith and Mac

Hitch Work - Ed and Mac

Fresh Paint - Ed and Mac

Rainbow - Ed and Cal

Morning Coffee - implied nsfw Edgary

Pride - probably one of my more scandalous fics nsfw Edgary

Trigger  The beginning of the Monmongary arc nsfw

Icecream - nsfw Monmongary

Take Me To you Monmongary

Taken To  You Monmongary

Touch Me - nsfw Monmongary

Confession - nsfw Monmongary

Breaking You - nsfw Monmongary

The Box - nsfw Monmongary stuff usual.

Attic - Ed, Monmongary?

Take-Out Monmonton?

Vault

Trip

God Etienne does stuff NSFW

Truce Etienne and Lucas

Suffocation Edgary

Prairie Rainstorm featuring Vernon

Rocky Relationship Calvin and Et try to get along

Testy Truce featuring Joan, Emma and Brandon.

Weed  Calvin Etienne and Vernon 

White Water Continuation of camp (Calvin, Etienne)

Banff After camp. (Calvin, Etienne, Eleanor)

Jacuzzi Etienne and Calvin smol Eleanor appearance

Silt Ed contemplates stuff

Couch NSFW Calvin and Ed

Irritations Etienne Lucas Elyse

Elevator Etienne and Ed and Calvin

375.1 Etienne, Ed, Vernon, Ludovico, Samantha. Birthday Arc

375.2

375.3

Leather nsfw rough Edgary

2020′s

Indeterminate Forms Ed, Cal and Et. Life changes right? Transit Ed Cal Et

Jam Ed Cal Et Edith Hally Elyse

Limerence Ed Cal Et

Fences Ed Cal Et

Fresh Cut Grass Ed Cal Et

Simply Business Cal Et Ed sort of nsfw

Consociate Et Cal Ed

Art Et Cal Ed

Dough Ed Et Cal nsfwish

August Long Weekend pt 1 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline Edith

August Long Weekend pt 2 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline Edith

August Long Weekend pt 3 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline Sparrow Edith

Jasper pt 1 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline

Jasper pt 2 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline

Jasper pt 3 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline

Jasper pt 4 Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline

Sparks Ed Et Cal Mac Caroline

1970

Registered Sad!!! Depression, institution warnings Edstuff

Day Out Something less depressing.

1980′s Arc

Folk Fest August 1980 Etienne visits Ed. Calvin, Edith and Caroline make an appearance.

Convenient NSFW Monmonton

Regret NSFW Monmonton

Testament Nsfwish Monmonton

Tangles Monmonton Christmas :O

Icicles Monmonton

Silent Killers Sad :C

Chokehold - nsfw drugs, dark, dangerous Monmonton

Classic Monmonton

Sins of the Flesh NSFW, violence, swearing Monmontonish?

Unexpected Surprise NSFW Montmonton

Unrelated Garbage

Doctrinal Tenets NSFWish fluff for monmongary week but its monmonton oop

April Fools Garbage Neko 1 Neko 2

[factotumindustries]

#underpressure #carpark #bolt #bitchumen #asphalt #likeandfollow http://bit.ly/2CChehM

[bitchumen]

which one’s the meal? (at Basil Carmel)

[codystrum]

Tweeted

It’s time BC STOPS BEING CANADAs BITchUMEN !!!!British Columbia should quit Canada: Rafe Mair https://t.co/YpUzc57zXe via @ipoliticsca @jjhorgan #bcexit #BCSeparationParty @JustinTrudeau #StopKM #StopPipelines

— Charles Emery (@stepnemco) May 31, 2018

[edenmuses]

Sidewalk Cracks

Along the paper bitchumen

I skip resolutely

Bewitched by childhood notions-

I resolve to never break

My mother's back-

I navigate around the cracks;

peppering the white-washed path.

Quickening my pace

I play hop scotch with the sidewalk

Cementing my control

Over omniscient idioms

One hop, two hop

Feet apart- stop!

Equilibrium challenges gravity

I fall to the ground rapidly

Hands skittering across

An uneven surface strewn with

Black

Looming

Cracks

Sheepishly glancing around,

I pick myself up from the ground

and knowing my mother is bent in half

I deliberate between a cry and a laugh

Instead, I denounce the powers that be,

and reume my game, with stifled glee.