my family is just so odd and i feel like if any average person were to sit in on our conversations they’d think we were all serial killers because like,, a few examples of conversations that have happened in the house in the last week:

Mom: Do you need anything to go back to uni with?
Me: A really big sword
Mom: … Ask your brother about that, he has a few

Mom: Someone kill me I don’t wanna go to work
Dad: I send you off with all my love and support!
Me: [under my breath] I’ll send a sniper
Mom: Thank you

[Various conversations between my brother and I about our non-existent eastern seaboard drug ring with enthusiastic approval from parents]

[threats of sword fighting in the front yard between my brother and i]

[one actual sword fight]

Someone: [various limb hurts]
Someone else: amputate!  


PC 4936 (GG-1) Train 128 The Silver Star at Seabrook, MD on March 23, 1969 by Marty Bernard
Via Flickr:
A Roger Puta photograph

President Obama announced on Tuesday what he called a permanent ban on offshore oil and gas drilling along wide areas of the Arctic and the Atlantic Seaboard as he tried to nail down an environmental legacy that cannot quickly be reversed by Donald J. Trump.

Mr. Obama invoked an obscure provision of a 1953 law, the Outer Continental Shelf Lands Act, which he said gives him the authority to act unilaterally. While some presidents have used that law to temporarily protect smaller portions of federal waters, Mr. Obama’s declaration of a permanent drilling ban from Virginia to Maine on the Atlantic and along much of Alaska’s coast is breaking new ground. The declaration’s fate will almost certainly be decided by the federal courts.

“It’s never been done before,” said Patrick Parenteau, a professor of environmental law at the University of Vermont. “There is no case law on this. It’s uncharted waters.”

The move — considered creative by supporters and abusive by opponents — is one of many efforts by Mr. Obama to protect the environmental policies he can from a successor who has vowed to roll them back. The president, in concert with United Nations leaders, rushed countries to ratify the Paris Agreement on climate change, putting the multinational accord into force in record time, before Mr. Trump’s inauguration.

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The old ice-house at Ackergill harbour in Caithness.  A well preserved example.   One of many around the coasts of the British Isles that were used to preserve the valuable salmon catches. 

There are also some on the north-eastern seaboard of the USA for exactly the same purposes.  They tend to vary considerably in design but often are dug into the local terrain so as to assist insulation. 

They’re not only found on the coast though. Some large country houses in Britain and France also have them; a sign of considerable wealth and status.

For Sterek Week 2016 Day 3 - Folklore
There’s a little twist on the folklore aspect of this because I love pirates (especially Blackbeard), but I also love a good ghostly mystery. 

Derek is a PhD candidate studying American folklore, Stiles is a treasure hunter on a mission to find Blackbeard’s missing treasure.

Their worlds should never have collided, but they do on a secluded beach in Virginia where Stiles has traced Blackbeard’s adventures and some of his treasure and Derek has come to see the spot where the legendary pirate supposedly landed once.

Things take a turn for the weird when a ghostly ship appears in the bay and Stiles’ metal detector starts going crazy just off the beach.  

They team up to dig the treasure up and end up on an adventure across the eastern seaboard trying to break Blackbeard’s curse on the treasure, all the while they’re being chased by the spirit of the man himself.

The reluctant partnership turns into something more when Derek discovers Stiles’ intelligence and sense of humor and Stiles discovers Derek’s adventurous spirit and his commitment to discovering the truth behind the legends of American Folklore.

Their adventure ends when they find Blackbeard’s bones in a faintly marked grave in Virginia and his skull left in an weatherworn old pub from colonial times. They burn his bones as Stiles reads an old Caribbean prayer over the fire.

They agree to turn the treasure over to the historical society and claim joint credit.  When they go to say goodbye, Stiles kisses Derek instead and asks him to team up with him on his next treasure hunt.  There’s suppose to be some treasure hidden in the Bayou in Louisiana and they seem to work pretty well together.

Derek agrees with the caveat that they avoid any more curses.  Stiles makes no promises.

That’s how they ended up treed in the swamp with an angry Bayou witch yelling at them to keep out of her business.  They do find the treasure though, that’s what counts.

Stiles writes a book about all their adventures, Derek finishes his doctorate and they live out their years chasing legends and treasure.  They spend their down time in Williamsburg, Virginia where Derek is a professor and Stiles leads treasure hunts with tourists willing to pay for his expertise.


Global Star IV observation car taken at Boon, MI northwest of Cadillac, between Cadillac and Frankfort, and is ex-Seaboard Air Line on Septemebr 28, 1985 by Marty Bernard
Via Flickr:
Tuscola & Saginaw Bay Ry Fantrip in September 28 and 29, 1985 The trip ran from Birmingham, north of Detroit, and ended up at Frankfort, MI on Lake Michigan on September 28, 1985 and returned the next day. It was organized by the Bluewater Michigan Chapter and used their cars Bill Schafer commented on the former-SAL 6604. The car still exists and is being leased by TVRM in Chattanooga, which has had it for five years or so. A Roger Puta Photograph

anonymous asked:

any fics that center around stevebucky surviving the 1938 hurricane that devastated New England

im not finding anything on the 1938 hurricane, but here is everything i can find/know of involving hurricanes!

Hurricane by capgal

The night Steve gives up, there is a hurricane warning across the entire eastern seaboard.

His search has taken him across nearly the entire globe, only to end back on American soil. He stands on the banks of the Potomac, exactly where the helicarriers went down, no wiser than he was eight months ago; he might as well have gone sightseeing around the world for all the progress he’s made. The building storm seems to wash away the last of his resolve with its downpour, and he finally lets himself be cajoled into returning to New York.

Or, the “come in from the rain” fic that was clearly necessary.

Home Is Where The Heart Is by sarinspill

Bucky has been homeless for almost half a decade now, if he’s right. He has been since he was kicked out of college.  Ontop of that, his only remaining family passed away just mere days after he was evicted. Life has been just a dull and rough existence, just his cassette player and his shitty job at a grocery store were the only things he counted on nowadays.
In the end though, he doesn’t think he has it that bad. And he’d thank his shitty job any day for bringing him Steve Rogers.


Scarves in February! What next?
10 February 2017

Wet wet wet across the state of Western Australia, which is appropriate for the North-West (being the wet season), but here in the South-West it’s supposed to be hot and dry! Not only that, while the Eastern Seaboard is bracing for a scorching weekend, we’re donning scarves and jackets! Madness!

Certainly my visitors to the exercise clinic were in shock (especially those from tropical Singapore).

The Exercise Medicine Research Institute’s Exercise Clinic at Genesis Cancer Care, which I run, has been hosting professional visitors this week; from Singapore Health, as well as Eastern States Genesis representatives. All were observing exercise as medicine in action with a view to introducing new exercise cancer treatment programs. I put on a bonus session today and watching my clients through the eyes of others reinforces how awesome they are, and how great it is for them to have this opportunity. (And you should have heard the lads singing my praises. So sweet.) #lovemywork

My traps and delts were protesting yesterday’s workout but I had today down for stretching anyway, given I had to work and it was teeming with rain. In the evening The Husb and I high-tailed it to Park & Vine for happy hour, where we were joined by The Girl and her BF, grazed share plates and watched a full moon rising.

The Care and Wooing of Tony Stark, Billionaire

Part 4 of ? (Ao3 link here) (previous part here)


Wakanda was seven hours ahead of New York City, where the former Avengers Tower was. It was also seven hours ahead of upstate New York, which was where the former Avengers compound had been located, and of Washington D.C., which could also be where Tony Stark was.

In any case, no matter where Tony Stark was, so long as he was on the eastern seaboard, he should be only seven hours behind Wakanda’s current time, which is why T’Challa had waited until two hours after dinner – and after dealing with Tony Stark’s newest gift – to attempt to call the man personally. Tony Stark had given his phone number before this, and T’Challa had attempted to call, only to have a message taken by Tony’s AI, but hopefully this time Tony would pick up – or the AI would transfer his call.

“Hello, and thank you for calling Dr. Anthony Stark’s personal phone. One moment please.”

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University of Tennessee Electroacoustic Ensemble perform an improvisational set entitled Duo at Appalachian State University, February 17, 2017.

Alex Ring Gray; EWI and electronics
Elise Stephens; live visuals

Another thing with Scriddler is you have to take into account that these are men willing to level cities.  Riddler shut down Gotham City on a whim.  Scarecrow was willing to destroy the entire eastern seaboard.  They’re not going to disappear into domestic bliss; no, leave them on the course they’re on and they will destroy each other and the city will be lucky if it’s not taken down too.

Trivia: Round 3
  1. Which country has more tractor per capita: Canada, Iceland or Japan?
  2. With what did the ancient Romans use to dye their hair? 
  3. What year did the Cold War end?
  4. Who was the third Vice President of the United States? (First and last name for credit)
  5. What actor played Ant Man? (First and last name for credit)
  6. What female vocalist sings the song “1- 2 - Step”?
  7. What’s the largest and densest of the four rocky planets?
  8. What is another word for lexicon?
  9. Name the director of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. (First and last name for credit)
  10. What Great Lake state has more shorelines than the US Atlantic seaboard?


i was tagged by @dlsknows  *the other daniel*
Name: Daniel
Nicknames:  Dan, Danny, Dano
Zodiac sign: Taurus
Height: 5′11ish i did not think i was taller than you danny??
Orientation: queer
Ethnicity: v white  
Favourite fruit: lime?
Favourite season: Spring
Favourite book: Moby-Dick; or, The Whale
Favourite flowers: chrysanthemums, freesias, foxgloves, lotuses
Favourite scent: patchouli, lime, coriander
Favourite colour: purple and orange
Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: coffee
Average sleep hours: 4-12?? 
Cat or dog person: this is a stupid dichotomy, also, dog
Favourite fictional character: laura dern’s character in blue velvet
Number of blankets you sleep with: 1, 2 in dead of winter, 3 in EXTREME circumstances
Dream Trip: eastern seaboard? idk 
Blog Created: i found an email once from back when tumblr sent me EMAIL NOTIFICATIONS of every like and reblog i got and that was dated to 2012 so a while ago ye
Number of Followers: 535
People I tag… (my biggest fans according to tumble in the last month) @so-discreetly-sympathetic @september-before-a-rainfall @chromolume honestly just tell me yr fave book and flower and fruit if you cba tbh that’s the bit i’m most curious about

Saving the Savior

Art: Check out the absolutely stunning art @somethingalltogether made for me here
Wordcount: ~52k
Rating: Teen and Up
Summary:  Unwilling to part with their newborn infant, Snow White and Prince Charming never send Emma through a magical wardrobe on a quest that could save the kingdom. Twenty-eight years later, with no end to the curse in sight, Killian Jones arrives in the small town of Storybrooke Maine, where everything is not as it seems. With few possessions and even fewer memories, Killian must uncover the secrets of the mysterious seaside town before it is too late.
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A/N: This is my entry for the CS Big Bang. Thank you so much to @stunninghell and @tolivebeyondthestars for beta-ing and cheerleading for me, you two made all the difference!

Killian Jones has been wandering around the eastern seaboard for as long as he can remember - which isn’t saying much since his earliest memory is from breakfast this morning. A breakfast consisting of a tic tac or perhaps an Advil (he still isn’t sure) and a half eaten granola bar he found wedged in the backseat of his car.

The latest town he’s passing through is unremarkably quaint, yet for some reason Killian finds himself wandering down by the docks even though it’s long past dusk and when he’d usually leave. He’s running his hand along the cool metal railing separating him from the sea when a voice startles him.

“Who are you?”

Killian turns around to face the speaker and knows immediately that the woman has authority here. She stands tall with her shoulders back, drawing herself out to her full height. Her hair whips around wildly, shimmering gold in the dim moonlight. Her gaze is fierce and her eyes are blazing. Her brow is down low as she scowls at him with no small amount of suspicion.

Killian smirks at her. “I must say, this isn’t the most welcoming town I’ve ever visited,” he says, letting his accent bleed into his words a little more than usual. The innocent tourist angle almost always works.

She remains unmoved.

“We don’t get many visitors here and you’re lurking around the docks.” She shifts her stance, hands coming down to rest at her waist. The movement shifts aside her red leather jacket to reveal the shiny sheriff’s badge pinned to her hip.

“I didn’t realize walking along the shore was considered nefarious in this town,” he says, unsure of what he’s hoping to accomplish by antagonizing the town sheriff.

She remains stonily silent and Killian shifts a little uncomfortably beneath her gaze before resorting to what always works. He sways forward and dips his thumb into his belt, putting on his best smoldering look.

“Oh I do apologize, Sheriff…” he says, emphasizing the title, hoping she’ll finish it for him.

She’s unmoved by his flirting, not even backing up when he steps what most would consider uncomfortably close.  "I believe I asked who you were first,” she says, unimpressed.

“Touché,” he says, tilting his head in supplication. He reaches out a hand and plasters on his most dazzling smile, the one that’s been known to bring grown women - and the occasional man - to their knees. “Killian Jones, at your service milady.”

Her eyes flick down to his outstretched hand and he can see the exact second she notices his other hand - or lack thereof. There’s no pity in her eyes and less than a moment later her gaze is back on his. Killian’s hand is still outstretched between them. She doesn’t take it.

“Next time do your lurking during the day Jones,” she says and her lips quirk up - just a bit around the edges, but it’s more amicable than anything so far and he’ll take it.

With that she turns to leave and it would be poetic, Killian thinks, if the only sound was the clicking of her boots against the pavement as she walked away, but the waves are too loud and screw poetic he doesn’t want her to leave, not yet.

“Wait,” he says, and the crack in his voice sounds desperate even to his own ears, “I never did get your name sheriff.”

She stops in her tracks and turns halfway to face him. Her face is cast in shadow, eyes glinting reflectively - magically - in the darkness.

“Swan,” she says before disappearing into the night.

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