squat the woods

Hitched (1/10)

a Captain Swan AU fan fiction

Summary:  After a series of events leave her life in pieces, Emma Swan finds herself hitchhiking out of Maine, her wallet empty and her heart broken. The best she hopes for is a driver who isn’t a pervert and takes her far away from the painful memories of Storeybrooke. But when she finds a ride with a quiet truck driver named Jones, Emma discovers that maybe a trustworthy friend is all she needs.

Rating: M or MA; some profanity and sex scenes.

Cover art: created by the absolutely fabulous @thesschesthair!!

Links: ff.net // ao3 // ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 // ch. 5 // ch. 6 // ch. 7 // ch. 8 // ch. 9 // ch. 10 // epilogue

(also @teamhook, who really wants to read this ^^)


The southbound on-ramp seemed to beckon to her, stretching wide and flat up the small hill until it crested on a small incline, leading to the highway.  Emma gnawed her lip, torn. She didn’t know whether it was legal to hitchhike on highways in Maine—it was definitely illegal in some other states—but even if it was, the alternative was trekking back to the truck stop in Bangor and trying to con someone there into giving her a ride.

And if I did, I’d end up using my boobs to do it, she thought bitterly. She gritted her teeth, suddenly filled with determination, and strode forward toward the ramp.

Chilly wind whistled from beneath the underpass, and she reached up to pull her tuque lower, snugging it around her ears. Then taking a deep breath, she extended her arm and put up her thumb.

“Anyone but a trucker,” she muttered. “Come on.”

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WHAT IS THIS WEIRD ASS FUCKER? THIS IS A TICKET TO PROVIDE FTM TRANS DUDES MORE COMFORT. Many FTM trans teens, like me, find it mentally uncomfortable having to sit down to pee, or squat in the woods while camping to pee. THIS WAS MY LIFE SAVER. This is around $13 on Amazon, but it is well worth it. Even for a simple trip to the bathroom I use this to quickly pee and go. I just thought I’d share this to help other unaware know about this witchcraft.

How to use it:

  • Step in front of the toilet (or tree, whatever the situation) with your legs slightly apart.
  • Put the Pstyle horizontally between your legs, big end first, and gently push up so when you pee it doesn’t go down your leg.
  • Angle it the end downward.
  • Pee.
  • Gently pull the Pstyle forward, ever so slightly pushing up, thus wiping your bits free of pee pee.
  • Rinse it off and put it back in it’s bag, so you can wash it later if you don’t have access to a sink.

Find it here: http://www.amazon.com/pStyle-Clear/dp/B002AA8GDQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1437096486&sr=8-1&keywords=pstyle

I just thought I’d share this in case I wasn’t the only FTM trans peep who felt mentally uncomfortable sitting/squatting to pee. Awkward or not, people need to know of this device.


Crucial Unit- Squat The Woods

Under The Last Full Moon..

I became Peter Pan. I’ve been living in the woods north of Santa Cruz for the past month; raising kittens, making art&tinctures, reading, hiking, hanging out with the ocean, bicyclesbicyclesbicycles.
My tincture is a mix of wild chamomile from the ocean, &&wild california poppy,lavender from a wilderness reserve. Soaked in moonlight.
My next venture is to colorado to rewild myself with others. Onwards.

Long Way Home || Michael (SMUT)

Pairing: Y/N | Michael
Smut: yes | no
Request: YES | “Michael and the girl are lost in the middle of nowhere and they are just friends and things get more heated in the car”

« You should’ve turned left there… » you pointed out, your eyes glued to your phone screen.
“Oh my god, Y/N! I know what I’m doing okay?” Michael moaned for what felt like the thousandth time since he’d started driving.
“Alright, but the GPS says—“
“I don’t fucking care about this thing, I know exactly where I’m going”
“Alright Alright, chill, jeez… you’re such a party pooper”
you poked his arm and turned up the radio so you could avoid his complains for at least a couple minutes. 

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anonymous asked:

Fic prompt: "I hit you in the balls in a paintball match I’m so sorry oh my god"? ovo

Oooh, I like this one!

Eggsy didn’t mean for it to happen. All he wanted to do was to have fun with his mates for a few hours. The bird Jamal was dating offered to let them all in for free at the paintball place she was working at, and of course, Jamal eagerly said yes. So one Saturday, Eggsy kissed Daisy on the cheek, waved goodbye to his mum, and went out to enjoy an afternoon of hitting other people with brightly-colored ammunition.

They all had to go through brief orientation and training, and it was mostly easy if you had common sense. Eggsy, Ryan, and Jamal soon got into a competition, trying to hit various targets before the five minute mark before an announcement played over the loudspeakers:

“Attention, attention, is there a team of three who would like to compete in a field match? If so, please report to the front desk, and we’ll get you all set up.”

“Want to do it?” Ryan asked, but the answer was obvious.

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For the past few months, there’s been a homeless man squatting in the woods near my trail running path. He keeps to the one spot and doesn’t really bother anybody, he just hollers out into the woods at the top of his lungs, a great whooping cry like he’s calling to someone on the opposite side of a great chasm. About a month ago, the yelling began to be broken up by singing, an unhinged tenor vibrato in a language other than English (Spanish or Latin as far as I could tell, could just be gibberish). Today while I was out there I spied him through the trees, and saw that he had fashioned his cardboard box/blankets into an altar, and atop the altar he had placed a cross that he had made from two wooden stakes fastened together. He knelt before the cross with his hands on the altar and his head down, chanting and intoning. Today I realized that he’s not a bum at all, he’s an ascetic monk. May God bless this man and protect him from delinquent youths.