rubber tires

“We were supposed to fly on January 30th, but then they told us that no new refugees were allowed to enter the United States. We were removed from the plane, and we stayed at the airport for 10 hours. That day was terrible. They remove you from the plane to go back home, but then you have nowhere to go. When you’re a refugee, they give you a lot of vaccinations before you can go to another country, so the children were already stressed because of that. But then we had to get off the plane, and the kids were asking, ‘Where are we going?’ You know, African children get so excited when they’re about to go to other countries. They want to go, they want to see everything. They see pictures of other children living in nice houses, while they’re living under a plastic sheet. Sometimes the wind blows the plastic sheet away, and then you’re just outside in the desert. Or, when it’s sunny, the heat of light reflecting on the plastic sheet burns your skin. Especially when you first arrive in the refugee camp, the roof is a plastic sheet, the walls are a plastic sheet, and the floor is covered with thorns. So they give you shoes made of rubber from car tires.”

Salem, MA

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BURNING SOME RUBBER LIKE 👀

Poems about depression, anxiety and panic attacks

One of my best friends is also a poet. I’ve known her since I was 13, and to this day she’s still one of my closest friends. When we were in high school, we used to email each other poems we wrote. We both struggled a lot with anxiety, depression and panic attacks as teenagers. The good news is, we have both come a long way in our mental health journeys and both of us now find life fulfilling and meaningful.

We struggled with a lot of darkness, and it was scary, but through reaching out to people we could trust (which started with each other), therapy, and developing our relationships with God, we both healed a lot of those overwhelming dark places so that now when the darkness comes, it’s not so scary and it doesn’t feel so heavy, because we know how to cope. We know we will be okay.

I just found this email I sent to her of poems I wrote when I was 17 about depression, anxiety and panic attacks. I wrote these all at a time when I was very anxious and depressed, and regularly having panic attacks. I thought it could be helpful to some of you guys so I wanted to share these!

This one is about a panic attack:

// BLACK TOP

How do I stop
This black, spinning top
That swallows my hopes
Till they’re nothing but fears?
And the mask on my eyes
That covers my lights
Til the black multiplies
In a kaleidoscope of tears?

One about depression:

// HEAVY

Something heavy
Pulls in me
Clouding the sun
Stealing my sleep
I look in the mirror
And though my reflection
Is clear as thin glass
I don’t know who I see.

Another about depression:

// SNAKES

How do I feel whole?
How do I escape
From this great emptiness?
These slick, chasing snakes?
How do I run free
When the captor is me
And I’m placing my joy
Just above my own reach?

About feeling worthless:

// MONSTER

Somebody tell me
That I’m not a monster
And if I’m okay
Show me the ways
Somebody honestly
Tell me today
The reasons,
The proof
That I’m not
A mistake.

This one was written during a panic attack:

// WORDS RUN AWAY

What is this feeling?
This hole in my soul?
Like tears that are blocked up
Yet out of control
Who am I talking to?
What am I doing?
My life’s on the screen
And I can’t control my breaths
In out, in out
But I’m hyperventilating
Everything looks tragic
And I can’t say what I mean
The words run away and
I’m crying for you
Someone to come here
Tell me I’m okay
Tell me I’m just not
Seeing straight today.

This one is about panic attacks:

// BLACK BOX

I lie on the floor
In silent panic
The room I’m in
Slips out of view
The air I had
Inside my lungs
Floats ‘cross the sky
And disappears

I’m now inside
A big, black box
Under the waves
A thousand leagues
And Life itself
Lives up above
Just where my soul
Is out of reach.

This one is about restlessness in general:

// ENERGY

Restless energy
Runs in my veins
Like a ticking clock
A waiting bomb
Raw emotions
Tangle their strands
Through my heart
Like choking vines
As I can feel
My sanity
Packing up and
Moving away
I look inside
My memories
And wonder why
I’m crazy today?

And here’s a hopeful one to end it on a good note:

// LIVE AGAIN

Hope and its’ fire
Run like black, rubber tires
Down the road
That used
To be full of
The oil
Of the death
Of my dreams
But now,
Just like Jesus,
They live again.

***

Imagine...Meeting A Different Dean

Originally posted by creepy-dance

Request: Hi, reader and dean are together. She gets sent to an AU and meets the other dean (the complete opposite of her Dean) and they get attacked. Her dean comes to the rescue and they have kinky fun when they get back to their universe please and thanks

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: smut


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Sk8er Girl CH2 (Trixya)- Squeaky Pink
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Trixya!HS AU. Trixie is a nerdy, girly girl with bows and frills. Katya is a skater chick with scuffed knees and a  Flazéda attitude. When they’re assigned as lab partners, can they discover chemistry together?

Or: She was a sk8er girl. She said see you later girl. She wasn’t good enough for her (or was she?).

[AN: Pink Shrooms aka Squeaky Pink. We’re writing this together but alternating chapters and POVs. Pinky is Trixie’s POV and Squeaky is Katya’s POV. We wanted to write the ending of this chapter based on the actual experience of a friend. The goal was to emulate life it its honest, messy way.]

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The Signs as Textures

Aries: Flexible rubber of a tire just barely in need of air
Taurus: Stacks of terra cotta pots lining shelves in the gardening section
Gemini: Sugary foaminess of whipped cream mashed against the roof of your mouth
Cancer: Cotton circle skirts of sundresses swishing in summer
Leo: Delicate softness of a cat’s pink underbelly
Virgo: Sticky glossiness of photographs on the wall
Libra: Smooth porcelain of fine china on the top shelf
Scorpio: Heavy and domineering cast iron of an ancient gate
Sagittarius: Leather seats stitched into a high class car
Capricorn: Wool lining an old bomber jacket
Aquarius: Granular gravel of roof shingles holding up stargazers
Pisces: Acrylic paint plastered and swirled on a tall canvas

dedicated to @wtfmulder… for reasons. tiny spoiler for “home”, more about establishing timeline.  i don’t edit my stuff ‘cause i’m a dolt, fyi.

 Red hair.  Lab coat.  A penchant for scientific analysis. 

It really was perfect.  And Mulder hated it.

“… but, you’ll notice, if we move on to this slide, we don’t see the same type of microbial movement or growth.  How weird is that?”

Mulder moved to peer into the microscope, watching his evidence swirl around it’s petrie dish.  His mind was determined to stay focused.

“Very weird,” he stated flatly, twisting this new information around in his mind.  He needed to make the pieces fit, “And this is the sample we pulled from Castor’s body.  How is that possible?”

“Right.  So, the thing is, it isn’t.  At least, not on any carbon based lifeforms.  It struck me as kinda’ weird,” Pendrell said, pushing his rolling chair across the small room to grab something else and then wheel back to Mulder, “so I decided to run in against this.  This is the sample Agent Scully dropped off earlier.”

“From the dog?”

“Right.  And you’ll never guess what I found.”

Pendrell slipped the sample beneath the lens and gestured for Mulder to take a look.  When he did, his eyes widened just a bit, “It looks just like Castor’s.”

“Exactly.”

Mulder rapped his knuckles on the counter, standing back from the machine.  He was thinking.  Pendrell rocked on his chair for a moment before going on, “I wanted to confirm where Agent Scully had found the sample… do… where /is/ Agent Scully, by the way?”

“Hm?  Oh, she’s down with Henderson, collecting the handwriting samples from the note we found.”

“Oh,” there was silence from Pendrell.  Mulder glanced at the other man for a moment and took in his downcast look.  His thoughts were pulled away from Mr. Castor’s unusual death and instead turned to the matters of the heart.  Not his heart;  Pendrell’s heart.  The heart that beat so fervently for Agent Scully.  

He recalled a conversation him and Scully had recently, about families and offspring.  This had never been something Mulder considered, even when he’d been married to Diana.  Children weren’t a good thing for the Mulder line, he’d thought.  Scully had seemed very set on the idea, hopeful even for it in the future.

Red hair.  Lab coat.  Science.

Fucking Pendrell.

Another of the lab guys called Pendrell over, who left Mulder for a few minutes to be alone with his thoughts.  Mulder’s lips twisted with displeasure at the vision in his mind’s eye.  Little red-haired children with mini microscopes.  Their mother’s bright blue eyes and their father’s weak chin.  One with a rock polisher, the other with a telescope.  They all got blue ribbons at the science fair and by high school, they’d all gotten scholarships to nice Universities.  He saw them red and burnt in summer since pale skin and sun don’t mix.  None of them work contacts, they all preferred glasses.  One was becoming a biogenetic engineer, another one was going into physics.  Family photos at the Pendrell household.

Perfect.  Quaint.  It made him want to puke.

Briefly, Mulder toyed with the idea of punching him.  He never would, of course, but it was nice to think about.

“Mulder,” a familiar voice said behind him and Mulder turned to see Scully enter the lab.  She had a file open in her hands was busy examining it.  She managed to weave her way around the equipment without once looking up from the folder, “I’ve been looking for you.  Henderson compared the handwriting samples.  Get this.  The note found at Castor’s place has notable similarities to Castor’s actual handwriting.”

Scully reached Mulder and moved to show him the file, pointing things out as she spoke, “But, certain pressure points like… here.  And here.  Henderson said those points are notable because, apparently, they’re signature styles of a female writer.”

“A woman wrote the note?”

“Well, Castor wrote the note.  At least, that’s what Henderson settled on.”

“Even weirder,” he responded vaguely.  Then he showed Scully, Pendrell’s findings.  This was the only time she looked up from the folder.  It was only brief and she immediately went to the microscope.

“I’d have to agree with Pendrell,” she said after a few moments of examination, “This is just simply impossible.”

Of course she agreed with Pendrell.  Mulder wondered how much trouble he’d get into for giving a fellow agent a swirly.  Pendrell must have had enough of those in his lifetime, right?  He could handle it.

“Well, impossible or not, it’s what was found on Castor’s body.  And the dog’s.”

“Mulder, I–”

“Hey, Agent Scully,” Pendrell returned, with a noticeable bounce in his step at seeing his favorite person.  He was smiling now, “It’s good to see you… back up from the… You were at the other lab, is all I meant.  It’s good to see you… not at that lab anymore and at this one.  Is what I meant.”

“Hello, Agent Pendrell,” Scully replied, seemingly unaffected by his ramblings.  She had her arms crossed as she pulled back from the microscope.  Her brow was furrowed in thought.  She looked back at Mulder, “Mulder, I’ve been thinking about that black residue we found outside Castor’s place.”

“Black residue?” Pendrell asked, hovering on the outskirts of their conversation.

“We wrote it off as tire rubber at first,” she clarified briefly before resuming her thoughts, “Mulder, what if the residue is connected?  Maybe we should go back and take a second look at Castor’s place.”

“Not a bad idea.  Why do you think it’s connected?”

“I’m not sure yet.  Pendrell, I can take this, yes?” Scully was already removing some documents with results from Pendrell’s table, eyeing them as she spoke to him.

“Of course.  Anything you like,” Pendrell replied.

“Thanks,” was all Scully said before she began to leave the lab, focused on this new set of data she’d gotten her hands on.  Mulder hesitated just long enough to watch Pendrell’s sad look, the dropping of his shoulders, as she left without another word.  Mulder caught up with her in the hall.  How she managed to read the file and not run into anyone, he didn’t know but she was damned good at it.

“Hey, Scully,” he said, catching up to her, “You know, I think Agent Pendrell has a crush on you.”

“Who?” a second later, “Oh.  I’m sure not.  Hey, Mulder, look at this–”

Mulder listened to Scully as they stepped on the elevator.  Her manicured nail running along the data sheets and pointing things out to him.  Mulder was fascinated, no doubt, but he couldn’t help but be distracted. 

His mind’s eye showed him that little red-haired kid with their science ribbons and dorky glasses.  But this time he saw another kid, too.  And this one was dressed like Spock.  

Mulder smiled.  He didn’t /really/ want to punch Pendrell.

anonymous asked:

39, 49, 60 so excited for this! Love your writing x

39. “What are you so happy about?”

49. “I have to tell you something.”

60. “You are my sunshine.”

WOW cute combo. I love it. This is cute and happy and if anything even remotely close to this happened to me I’d throw up. Enjoy xox


The rain fell continually outside, the distant sound of rubber tires against wet concrete coming in through my open window. The chill had come in but only rested on the backs of my arms; it couldn’t reach Shawn nor I underneath my heavy duvet as we stayed in bed long after waking up. We were facing each other, and Shawn was gently tracing my face with the pad of my thumb. The curve of my lips, the slope of my nose, the dip of my eyelids. He picked up an eyelash from my cheek and held it in front of me, telling me to make a wish before blowing it away. I wished he would stay forever, so that he would memorize my features naturally instead of going out of his way to remember, like I knew he was doing that morning.

“It’s miserable out.” I said softly. Shawn dropped his hand to my waist and let it rest there, tracing circles into my hip underneath my shirt.

“I thought you loved the rain.” he said.

“Not when I want to be outside doing things with you. I thought we could go kayaking today.” I said. Shawn smiled and pulled me closer towards him.

“We can go kayaking another day.” he said. I pouted.

“I wanted sunshine.”

You are my sunshine. We’ll be fine, babe. Today we can just… stay in bed. All day. No distractions.” he said, pecking me on the nose. I rolled my eyes.

“What’s got you in such a good mood? Why are you so happy?” I asked with a light laugh. Shawn smiled and shrugged.

“Am I not allowed to just be happy?” he laughed. I wrinkled my nose and shook my head.

“No. Explain. Fess up.” I said. Shawn rolled his eyes and leaned his forehead against mine.

“Fine. I have to tell you something.” he said softly. I pulled away and looked at him, furrowing my eyebrows.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I just… really love my girlfriend.” he said as if it were a big revelation, letting out a laugh and rolling over on top of me, attacking my neck with happy, playful kisses as I cried out in glee and tried to shove his solid body off of mine.

“I already know that, you dweeb! Get off of me!” I cried, laughing.

“I can’t! I love you too much! I’m too happy! I can’t let you go! It’s physically impossible, I’m sorry.” he said, his voice muffled as his head hid in the crook of my neck before he moved it to look up at me, resting his chin on my chest. “You know what, babe?” he asked, pulling away.

“What is it, Shawn?” I asked fondly, smiling and brushing the hair away from his forehead.

“I just really love my girlfriend.” he said, breaking out into another grin.

justrandomspnstuff  asked:

Since Dean loves food, Cas tries to cook for him. He always watches Dean take the first bite with little kid anticipation like he's the judge on a cooking show. Dean doesn't have the heart to tell him it's awful every time. So, he swigs down each bite with a sip of beer, a thumbs up and a nod because he'd eat the rubber from a bike tire if it meant that Cas was HERE every day, giving off his proud smiles for making Dean happy. And Dean is. So happy ♡. (You said you wanted a fluffy head canon :))

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!

Then when Cas becomes human he tastes his own food and realises how bad it is and how Dean was sparing his feelings and he is so touched by it but also annoyed so he wants to learn to cook better. 

He asks Dean to help and he teaches him little by little every day until one day Cas surprises Dean and Sam with an amazing meal that he managed to do all on his own (well, he did text Sam at one point to just check whether it was a bulb or a clove of garlic he needed, but that’s all) and they are all so happy and Cas is so happy and proud of himself, while Dean is proud of himself for teaching him so well and Sam is happy that they are all content. 

Dean and Cas do the washing and tidying up in sync while Sam gets the movie ready then they all settle down to watch classic Marilyn Monroe with toffee popcorn for Dean and a whole heap of candy for Cas and Sam (skittles are Cas’ favourite and Sam loves gummy bears). 

3

Work in Progress - AFV Club 1/35 Sho’t Kal Gimel (Israeli Centurion)

Built a long while ago but yet to be painted.

Metal tracks are aftermarket parts, everything else including the aluminium barrel, rubber tires, photo-etched parts, etc. are included in the kit. Absolutely amazing kit for the price. I don’t like the provided rubber tracks though.

Fun fact, the headlights are on their own 21 parts in total.

Zootopia Take a Stand: Star of Ceartais Ch.9- The Star Rises

(AN/ Hey folks it’s Garouge/Crewefox here with another chapter of Star of Ceartais. As always thank you to everyone who liked, followed, faved, reblogged and reviewed the last update. Thank you to the awesome SOC development team for their story ideas, beta reading and art that they develop for this tale. So without further ado let’s get cracking with this chapter…)

Here’s the fanfiction.net link… https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12439999/10/Take-A-Stand-Star-Of-Ceartais

Chapter 9 – The Star Rises

Robyn looked outside to see a dozen members of the Razors approaching them, armed to the teeth and had murder in mind “Oh this is just great.” Robyn moaned, desperately trying to figure out a way to get her, Hannah and Kodi out of this alive.

“We need to get out here!” Hannah stated with force, detecting the shapes of the dozen or so enemies and the smell of the oil coming from their guns.

Kodi looked at the metallic door and a strategy quickly materialised in his brain “Robyn can you tear this door of it’s hinges?”

“Yeah, but what’s the play?” Robyn asked, all the while yanking the steel door from it’s frame.

“We’re going to use it to shield us from gunfire then slowly back out towards the hole in the fence.” Kodi laid out “if they get too close Hannah can shoot them, got it?”

Hannah cocked her shotgun and breathed “Got it.”

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2

Ford Unleashes Line-Lock on Mustang EcoBoost

More rubber meets the road later this year when Ford expands the availability of electronic line-lock on 2018 Mustang. The track-exclusive feature – previously available only on V8-powered Mustang GT – will be standard on all pony cars, including those equipped with 2.3-liter EcoBoost engines. Available with the 10-speed SelectShift automatic or 6-speed manual transmission.

On models equipped with an available 12-inch digital instrument display, drivers will see a video-game-like animation of a spinning alloy wheel kicking up a cloud of smoke to indicate when the electronic line-lock feature is activated.

Electronic line-lock is traditionally used by drag racers ahead of the starting line to heat up the tire rubber for improved traction when the start light goes green. The feature leverages state-of-the-art software technology that also allows amateur race car drivers, particularly those competing in bracket racing, to achieve more consistent performance times.

Using steering wheel-mounted thumb switches, a driver toggles through a menu on the instrument cluster to activate electronic line-lock. Once engaged, the system builds pressure on the front brake calipers. Another button press holds the pressure for up to 15 seconds, allowing the driver to hit the throttle and spin the rear wheels while the car stays in place.

Going to California

This is a part of @imamotherfuckingstar-lord song challenge.  I picked the song Going to California by Led Zeppelin and the character Leonard ‘Bones’ Mccoy, I might turn this into a series but idk let me know <3

The post 

Song

People who might like this : @yourtropegirl @kaitymccoy123 @enterprisewriting

Originally posted by thepunisher

Originally posted by serendipia-fashionblog

Originally posted by boy-so-pale

Spent my days with a woman unkind

Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.

This wasn’t his forte- being spontaneous, making split second decisions. Bones liked to have a plan, he liked to know exactly what was going to happen. The uncertainty of everything was very confusing. Scary mostly. Because for once he wasn’t listening to his mind when it came to Jocelyn. He wasn’t listening when his brain screamed to him that he’d been saying the same sentence three times, just in different intensities and that repeating a sentence doesn’t have any affect. He didn’t hear his mind scream that Joanna was in the room and could probably hear them fight. He didn’t listen to Jo when she told him that she wanted a divorce and that she would never have cheated if he hadn’t been working all the damn time as he threw clothes into his suitcase. He didn’t listen to his brain whisper that he didn’t actually know if he ever would see his sweet peach again when he hugged Joanna and wiped her tears before he drove off.

Now here he was, in a field in the middle of nowhere crying about his failed marriage. Another winner for lowest moments in his life. To be fair it could be worse. It’s not like she cheated on him with his co-worker and would potentially take his daughter away from him and also almost all his life savings.. Of course not that would be insane and cold hearted and cruel.

Not that that wasn’t Joce.

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Going To California

Previously posted on @fascinatingfantrash , this is my new account so don’t worry this isn’t plagiarism 

This was for @imamotherfuckingstar-lord ‘s song challenge <3

Song : Going to California by Led Zeppelin 

Originally posted by leepace71

Spent my days with a woman unkind

Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.

This wasn’t his forte- being spontaneous, making split second decisions. Bones liked to have a plan, he liked to know exactly what was going to happen. The uncertainty of everything was very confusing. Scary mostly. Because for once he wasn’t listening to his mind when it came to Jocelyn. He wasn’t listening when his brain screamed to him that he’d been saying the same sentence three times, just in different intensities and that repeating a sentence doesn’t have any affect. He didn’t hear his mind scream that Joanna was in the room and could probably hear them fight. He didn’t listen to Jo when she told him that she wanted a divorce and that she would never have cheated if he hadn’t been working all the damn time as he threw clothes into his suitcase. He didn’t listen to his brain whisper that he didn’t actually know if he ever would see his sweet peach again when he hugged Joanna and wiped her tears before he drove off.

Now here he was, in a field in the middle of nowhere crying about his failed marriage. Another winner for lowest moments in his life. To be fair it could be worse. It’s not like she cheated on him with his co-worker and would potentially take his daughter away from him and also almost all his life savings.. Of course not that would be insane and cold hearted and cruel.

Not that that wasn’t Joce.

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The Watcher

One million realities
mine is the broken one
you never quite see,

I’m scraps of rubber
from a blown tire
black curled curve
in a dirty puddle
of oily water on buckled concrete,

The hand untouched
the gaze not met
the voice gone silent
words that are better unspoken
easier ignored than understood,

Shattered street light
on the dirty forgotten corner
at the bottom of the off ramp
that you never take
an intimation
never taken into consideration,

And if the smile
comes unnatural
feels forced
looks plastic
what matter?
There’s none to see
none to be offended
by misinterpreting the awkward
as insincere
no need to explain
to the aggravated observers
that where I come from
No one smiles
because the last joke
became a reality
and it’s not funny anymore

The Fault in My Code: Ch. 16

You can read Chapter 16 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 16: Two Brown Eyes That Hunt

           The ride was long, and despite the whispers of adrenaline that curled along his wrists and made his fingers dance and twitch along his leg, Will found himself dozing in and out of a dreamless state, head leaned back against the siding of the transport vehicle. The road hummed beneath his feet, and the calm, easy breathing of Lecter across from him was almost hypnotic. With the turning of the road and the silence of his companions, his head bounced and lolled before he’d catch himself and blink blearily around. Whenever he came to, he’d catch Hannibal’s eyes across from him, and he’d swallow heavily. Hannibal didn’t sleep. He kept his gaze fixated on Will, an intent and probing stare that made the hair on the nape of his neck stand on end. He was risking a whole hell of a lot on his confidence in his own self-control.

           His eyes saw better without contacts. He noted the fine dips in the skin just under Lecter’s eyes, the way his cheeks pressed against the mouth restraint whenever he exhaled too hard. Will wondered what it’d taste like to trace his tongue over it. He wondered if Molly was watching the news, if the Lounds article sat at her elbow so that she could read it over and over and over again, obsessing now that she knew who he’d connected to. Oh, Will, she’d sigh. Oh Will. Oh-fucking-Will.

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