OMG!! I FORGOT TO TELL YOU GUYS!!! A GUY THAT HAS MESSAGED MOST OF US ON SA AND THAT WE’VE BLACKLISTED, IS MY FUCKING PROFESSOR!!!! HOW CAN I FORGET TO POST THIS VITAL TEA!! 😭😭😭😭😭 BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH let’s just say that class is awkward as fuck. I can’t even look him in the eye!!! I was skeptical if it was him or not because he looked sooooooo familiar but all white people look alike so you can never be too sure. So during class I’m straight up staring at him cause I had a strong ass feeling, like my stomach was doing flips and he kept glancing at me. He mentioned how he goes fishing often and that’s when some ‘That’s So Raven’ type shit happened and I had a vision. It triggered the damn memory of his SA profile and a pic of him holding a fish on a fishing boat (is that a Florida thing?) and I’m like…… This is him, it has to be. But here’s the shit, we had a test a couple days ago and I know I failed. I’ll admit it, I didn’t study but whatever, C’s get degrees am I right? Anyway, I turn my test in and pray to God that he didn’t notice I Christmas treed that shit. He takes my paper, eye fucks me, and then winks at me. I awkwardly walk away cause he’s fucking ugly and I was shook. Fast forward to a few minutes ago… I check my grade today. Bruh….. How I got a 98% if I didn’t study? How I got a 98% if I didn’t even open the damn book not once this semester? There’s no way in hell I guessed my way to a 98%! He knows I know!! I don’t have that class until Tuesday so I’ll have to update you on this tea when it comes around 😂

I tore myself out of my own mother’s womb.
There was no other way to arrive in this world.
A terrified midwife named me Monster
and left me in the pine woods with only the moon.
My mother’s blood dripped from my treed head.

In a dream my mother came to me and said
if I was to survive
I must find joy within my own wild self.

When I awoke I was alone in solitude’s blue woods.

          *  *  *

A woman found me and took me to her mountain home
high at the end of an abandoned logging road.
We spent long winter evenings by the fire;
I sat at the hearth as she read aloud myths of the Greeks
while the woodstove roared behind me.
She sometimes paused to watch the wall of shadows
cast by my antlers. The shadows danced
across the entire room like an oak’s wind-shaken branches.

          *  *  *

The woman was worried when I would not wear dresses.
I walked naked through the woods.
She hung the wash from my head
on hot summer days when I sat in the sun to read.
The woman grew worried when I would not shed
my crown with the seasons as the whitetails did.
“But I am not a whitetail,” I said.

          *  *  *

When I became a woman
in the summer of my fifteenth year,
I found myself
suddenly changed in the mirror.
My many-pronged crown had grown
into a wildness all its own;
highly stylized, the bright
anarchic antlers were majestic to my eye.

The woman saw me and smiled. “What you are I cannot say,
but nature has created you.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”

When night came it brought a full moon.
I walked through the woods to the lake
and knelt in the cool grass on its bank.
I saw my reflection on the water,
I touched my face.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made.

—  the girl with antlers, ansel elkins

Siff continues to be a pain in Carter’s side. Many thanks to @parttimedragon for indulging me in writing their agent<3

[ parts 1-3 here ]

Part 4

Carter’s expression had begun suspicious when Siff started to explain her plan, then changed to incredulous as she watched. Eventually he settled on a blank stare as she finished. Siff waited for him to process everything, and she kicked her legs back and forth idly in the air.

They were still treed by the swamp monster, with Siff sitting on a thick branch, hands resting on the rough bark in case she lost balance. She wouldn’t, but the way the day had been going, Siff wasn’t about to take that risk. Carter sat on a branch slightly below hers, one of his hands on the tree’s trunk. Siff was trying very hard not to notice how certain abdominal muscles were flexed to hold his balance. His shirt was still down on the ground somewhere.

“So let me get this straight,” Carter said eventually. One of his eyebrows arched and Siff could tell he wasn’t sure she could pull her end off. Of the plan, not of…her… uh. No, focus, Siff. Focus. Focus on the plan not on his abs, damnit.

“You want to swim down into the ship that’s crashed,” funny how he didn’t say ‘my ship’, Siff noticed.


“Where the monster thing is, that tried to drown you,” he continued.


“Get gear that might not have survived the crash,”

“Mhm.” Siff had started to jiggle a foot. The wet clothes sticking to her were chilly up in the breeze.

“Which also might be waterlogged and useless-”

“It’ll work, with a bit of elbow grease,” Siff countered.

“Then set off an explosion on the ship, which is mostly underwater,”

“Well, a series of explosions-” Siff corrected.

“–Without dying.” Carter said. The eyebrow had been inching higher with each statement.

“That ‘not dying’ part’s important, yes,” she said with a nod. “At least to me. I don’t really feel like dying.”

“And you say this will help us get off-planet…somehow.”

Ah, he’d either not understood the last part of the plan or she’d not explained it right. Probably a bit of both. Probably mostly her not explaining it right, actually. It made perfect sense in her mind, but finding the words to convey the diagram and acceptable probabilities in her head to someone who was outside her head was difficult.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. Talk slow, she reminded herself. Use simple words. Not everyone likes science. “So. We are in a swamp.“

The arched brow fell into a scowl.

"Yes, I am keenly aware of that,” Carter said dryly.

“And swamps are full of decaying partic- er, rotting stuff. Like leaves.” Siff waited a beat, watching Carter. When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “Rotting stuff creates a gas called methane-”

“I know-” Carter said, then stopped. He stared at her, eyes going slightly wide. “You want to set the whole skrogging swamp on fire.”

“Well,” Siff said shyly. “Not all of it. Just enough to bring in a few ships to put out the fire before it spreads to the local methane plants. Like, the factory kind of power plants, not actual…vegetation.”

“That,” Carter said, expression of bewildered horror unchanged “Is insane.”

Siff shrugged. She’d been called worse by better people. 'Sculag’ was a particularly familiar term from back home. It meant weak-minded, though it was usually used by Chiss who were a bit more traditionally minded.

“Okay,” she said easily. Leaning her elbow on a knee, she propped her chin up on her fist and batted her dark blue eyelashes at the human. “Tell me your plan to get out of here then. I’m listening.”


“This is insane,” Carter muttered for the fifth time. Siff stood on the tree limb, balanced on the balls of her feet. She’d peeled off the extra layers of clothing, hanging them carefully over a nearby branch. Wearing a tank and leggings, Siff eyed the water below. It seemed calm, aside from the odd 'blorp’ of methane bubbles that broke the surface near the wing of the downed ship.

“You’re insane,” he said again.

“Insane is not doing anything and expecting to get magically saved,” Siff muttered, climbing down the tree. “You aren’t very good at improvising when things go wrong, are you?”

“And you’re not a very good assassin,” he countered. She could hear him following her down branch by branch.

“Yeah,” Siff said with a small sigh. “But should you really be complaining that I didn’t kill you? Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”

She hopped down the last few feet, landing on a patch of marsh grass. Looking up, she watched him jump off the tree, landing next to her.

“I’m not sure, it feels like you’re going to get me killed with this plan, and I’d rather die by bullet than exploding marsh gas,” Carter said, brushing bits of tree bark from his hands. Siff got distracted by the way the motion bunched and flexed his biceps, and awkwardly cleared her throat. He was //awfully/ well fit for a smuggler. And clean.

“Actually this is a swamp, not a marsh. Marshes don’t have trees…”

Carter gave her a look that informed Siff he was not interested in the semantics of wetland classifications. She held up her hands, and rolled her eyes. Fine. If he ever got into trouble over not knowing the difference later on, that was his problem.

“Just keep smacking the water on the other side with a branch to keep Mister Grabby distracted, okay?” Siff muttered, and stepped into the water. Her toes immediately sank into slimy muck, and she made a face. Ugh. Gross.

Wading in, Siff took a deep breath as she neared the downed smuggling ship and ducked under the water. Too murky to see, she kept her eyes closed and felt along the ship for the escape hatch on the side that they had swam through earlier. Let’s see, it was a Light Freighter class. XS model, refurbished but still factory-compliant. Siff’s fingers found the door frame, and she grabbed hold of it, pulling herself through and into the ship proper.

Feeling her way down the corridor, Siff made her way to where she’d stashed her kit before everything went to hell. Pulling the bag by it’s strap onto her shoulder, she turned around carefully. Lungs starting to burn, she reminded herself to stay calm until she could get another lungful of air.

Hand over hand, she counted the distance back to the exit hatch, and pulled herself through. For a moment, the bag on her shoulder caught, and Siff swallowed instinctive panic. She was trained better than to let a little thing like being stuck make her lose focus, she reminded herself. Reaching behind her, she guided the bag through the small hatch  and kicked hard for the surface.

The rotting and putrid stench of the swamp might as well have been the clearest mountain air for all that Siff cared. It was air and it was breathable. Gulping down lungfuls, she glanced over to where Carter was facing off with a stabbed tentacle. He had a branch at his feet, and the knife she’d given him earlier in his hand, ready to slash at the fleshy-pink thing that was waving in his direction. In other words, he was fine, and she had time to get out of the water.

Staggering in the slippery muck, Siff hurried onto the bank of grass and tree roots, dropping her bag at the base of the tree that still held her clothes. It was dusk now, but there was enough ambient light for her to see, and soon there’d be two to three times that.

“Carter,” she shouted, “Time to take cover.” Unzipping the bag she pulled out the still-dry detonator for the remaining insurance she’d taken out on Carter’s ship. You couldn’t trust smugglers not to space you, so even though she’d joined his ship there were a few blinking items pressed up to the fuel core, even underwater.

Ducking behind the large trunk of the clothes-tree, Siff peeked around to see Carter running over. She scooted down to make room for him… and then flipped the switch.

For a moment nothing happened. Two, four, six heartbeats, and Siff wondered if the explosives had fallen from where she’d mounted-

They felt the boom first. It shook the tree and the muddy grass under the pair. Even through her hands, the boom was deafening. It was followed by a second, then a series of smaller hissing cracks that cut through the air. The swamp around them lit up orange and yellow as the ship’s wreckage burned. Water rained down on them, displaced from the force of the explosion. Siff was pretty sure she saw a few fish and at least one detached tentacle fly by.

Only when the explosions stopped did Siff poke her head around the tree to see how her plan had worked.

The remains of the ship were cracked apart, sitting much deeper in the water now, which had caught fire.

“Siff,” Carter said carefully, peering over her head. “The water is on fire.”

“High methane content,” she said softly, eyes wide. “A really, really, high methane content. I’ve never set water on fire before.” She looked up at him then back to the water that yes, was very much on fire.  Little jets of flame puffed up where methane was richest, though a low orange flame had spread to cover most of the water. Siff let out a soft whistle. It was almost pretty.

“You… are not an assassin, are you?” Carter said, watching the swamp burn.

“And you’re not a smuggler, but I won’t tell if you don’t,” Siff countered, looking up at him.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Hope i dont bother but i literally have read each sterek FBI fics and i was wondering if you could update it or arent there more? if not, is there more as derek a firefighter? ☺️

Here are some firefighter!derek fics.

Emergency Hugs by  LadyDrace | 2K


The sign looks cheerful enough, as much as a sign can when composed of entirely letters in a sturdy black frame, but Stiles doesn’t know why he’d stopped to stare at it. Okay, that’s a lie. He does know.

everybody loves good neighbors by  stilinskisparkles | 7.6K

The first time it’s a leg through the kitchen ceiling.

Derek finishes chewing his mouthful of cereal, stares up at the twitching foot.

“Uh, little help?”

[Not Not!Fic] Treed!Stiles/Fireman!Derek by  fire_juggler_writes (fire_juggler) | 1.7K

Stiles gets trapped in a tree. Derek is the one who rescues him.

Not So Much Coffee and Books as it is Hot Chocolate and Erotica by knaval | 15.7K

Stiles is an erotica novelist, and Derek is the sexy fireman he daydreams about. He sees Derek daily at the coffee shop, writing out his fantasies about Derek, basically Derek is his muse. All goes well until Derek starts talking to him and trying to read his books. Little does Stiles know, Derek is already a fan of his books.

Beacon Hills Firefighters Fund | tumblr ficlet

voyageboots replied to your post “Answers About Camping”

Dude I go backpacking! Good luck! Watch out for bears! Always tie your shit up high. Also REI does free pack fittings even if you are not buying one from them you can get fitted.

Oh, good to know! I knew they did fittings but I figured it was only if you were buying. 

spaci1701 replied to your post “Bought a Pack for Backpacking.”

Even more than maps and such, look into a GPS unit - some track where you are in relation to where you started from, some have emergency signals - talk to someone at a reliable outfitters and get some advice on what’s best suited for you. Also, check in with the search & rescue services in the area you plan to go, they often have great recommendation lists of what’s needed for your specific area.

Well, fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) the only place accessible to me for camping is the Indiana Dunes state park, which is….small. Small and tame. :D So a GPS isn’t necessary, at least not yet. I probably will have cell service the entire time, but even if I don’t, it’s like…pick a direction and walk for three miles and you will reach someone’s backyard. :D 

underanothername replied to your post “Bought a Pack for Backpacking.”

For warm weather you can make a decent tent out of a tarp. Some people almost make an art form of it, origami-fashion. Lots of instructions online if you’d like to try it.

I’ve seen diagrams of that, but it seems…breezy, even for an Indiana summer :D Plus, man, so many bugs. Though at some point, if I keep up the backpacking, I may try it – it definitely would lighten the load….

auressea replied to your post “Bought a Pack for Backpacking.”

If you’re camping in treed areas… a nice alternative to a tent is a camping hammock. I LOVE mine. not sleeping on the hard ground is a bonus!

I looked at those and they look super cool, but I was concerned about my ability to properly install one. I may yet give it a shot though, depending on what I find at the campsite when I do my recon. 

daroos replied to your post “Bought a Pack for Backpacking.”

please don’t die sam

By far the most realistic comment when it comes to me and camping. :D

An Upright Citizen - Adoribull

So a few days ago, maybe weeks, I had a thought that inspired some really adorable additions and a lovely strip by nisuma. You can find the post and some of the comments here. <3

I hope it lives up to the awesome art. XD


Focus is a dangerous thing.

It permits innovation, progress, the birth of something real and wholly unique at the hands of all manner of people. But it does so through a certain ignorance: tunnel vision.

Which is how Dorian has managed to find himself coming down from a stroke of genius perched atop a lampione like a fashion-forward pigeon.

“I suppose I can just…” He turns a bit, attempting to slink along the support, but his boot slips on the metal and he aborts the thought with a short burst of hysterical laughter and a tightened grip.

Has the ground always looked so painful?

Getting down on his own is right out.

A quick check of his phone tells him that his battery died during his latest creative binge, and he left his mobile charger at the apartment. So, no calling in the cavalry.

But he is not going to sit at the top of a bloody street light and yowl for help like a helpless cat.


Keep reading

Meetcute Prompts: Werewolf Edition
  1. I picked up what I thought was a stray on the side of the road last night and it turns out you’re a werewolf.  Um.  Can I offer you some pancakes?
  2. Hi there I know I don’t know you but I live downstairs and I can hear you through the ceiling every time you play with your dog and his squeaky toy.  And frankly, it sounds AMAZING.  Can I come in?
  3. I work at the butcher shop and we’ve never spoken but I recognize you from when you come in to buy fresh meat every month.  I don’t mind keeping the store open a little past closing since you’re running late and seem kind of desperate.  This may be weird to mention, but did you know your teeth are getting sharper while we talk?
  4. I know the sign says no shoes no shirt no service but I just had the WEIRDEST night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early and I’m really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter.  Help?
  5. My dog goes nuts every time she sees you and this time she got off the leash and tore after you, except now you’re both barking at each other and I’m not sure what to do.
  6. You look REALLY familiar and I think it might be because of the feral dog I’ve been feeding a couple nights a month and oh shoot you caught me staring and you’re coming this way.
  7. I’m really, really sorry I accidentally bit you during that kissing game at the party last night, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE I THINK YOU’RE REALLY CUTE.  But, uh. I have some stuff I should tell you?
  8. I’m a wildlife biologist and I got called out to do radio tagging and release because a coyote trapper accidentally caught a wolf except I am PRETTY SURE you are not a wolf.
  9. Sorry I treed your cat; it was kind of an uncontrollable impulse.  I’m pretty strong and good at jumping, though.  Hold my bag while I go get her down.
  10. Help my car broke down outside your place and it’s almost the full moon and I’m not saying I’m freaking out but do you happen to have handcuffs and how do you feel about using them on strangers.
A Face Only Mother Earth Could Love

Two eyes filled only with greed,
a mind spewing destructive creed,
oppressing life hidden and treed;
a wicked and disgusting breed.

Two deaf and ignorant ears;
pain and agony they cannot hear,
and mouths that breathe in air severe, 
whilst clearing a hundred forests a year.

And man is her child
offspring sick, ugly, vile;
but she loves us
tempered and mild,
bruised, battered and 
bloodied all the while.

A Song for Angelo

Lean close, old man
With the shaggy coat and pointy ears
Let’s recall our stories together
How you showed up at my door
And would not leave
How you found a broken man
And repaired him
How you learned there would be food
Every day, and a bed to sleep in
How we built a house together
How you brought me a hammer when I asked for it
And I’d never told you what a hammer was
The times you kept me from death
The rattlesnakes you warned of
The baby chick you protected
The snowstorms we walked through
We shall recall the Christmases
That were just you and me
When instead of singing carols
We howled at the moon in harmony
Of the time you broke my heart
When you disappeared into the
Wilderness for forty of my longest days and nights
We shall whisper of how you learned to accept
Cats, and a sister dog
I shall sing of the bear you treed
The bobcat who feared you
The buffalo who ignored you
And how you did not laugh when
Your sister met a porcupine
Tell me of your battles
With thunder and flying machines
Gaze into my eyes
As I gaze into yours
We’ll see our history
Yours and mine together
Sunrises and sunsets
Moons waxing and waning
And eclipsed
Stars from horizon to horizon
Some falling
For good luck and for bad
Lean into me, old man of graying muzzle,
And we will remember your thousand secret names
The ones that only you and I know
I’ll scratch the places you cannot reach
You’ll lick away my tears
We’ll watch for the raven we call Brother
And you know him from all others
Though I cannot imagine how
Your hearing may not be what it once was
My knees have known better days
But with you, my friend,
We will always walk together
Even as we both grow old
And after
Lean close, my brother,
We shall remember
And we shall sing
And all shall know our song.

© 2017 Leland Dirks

Dutch Christmas Vocabulary

Vrolijk kerstfeest - Merry Christmas
Zalig kerstfeest - Merry Christmas (more old-fashioned)
Fijne feestdagen - Happy holidays
Gelukkig nieuwjaar - Happy new year

de kerstman - Santa Claus
de kerstmuts - christmas hat
de slee - sleigh
het rendier - reindeer
het cadeau - present
de kerstboom - christmas tree
de kerstbal - christmas ornament
de slinger - garland
de lampjes - fairy lights
kerstavond - Christmas Eve

koud - cold
glad - slippery
warme chocolademelk met slagroom - hot chocolate with whipped cream
de wanten - mittens
de sjaal - scarf
de muts - knit cap
de oorwarmers - ear warmers
de sneeuw - snow
de sneeuwvlok - snowflake

de tafel - table
de mooi gedekte tafel - beautifully arranged table
het bord - plate
het bestek - cutlery
het servet - napkin
het recept - recipe
koken - to cook
het voorgerecht - appetizer
het hoofdgerecht - main course
het nagerecht - dessert
Eet smakelijk! - Enjoy your meal!

+ some Dutch Christmas songs!
Oh Denneboom
Stille Nacht
Jingle Bells
Er is een kindeke
Kling klokje klingelingeling