#Affordable Camping Gear

[noisycowboyglitter]

Camping: It’s In Tents! Funny Quotes and Anecdotes for Outdoor Lovers

“Camping: It’s in tents!” is a delightfully punny phrase that captures the playful spirit of outdoor adventures. This humorous twist on the word “intense” brings a smile and adds a lighthearted touch to camping experiences. Whether you’re setting up a tent for the first time or sharing stories around the campfire, this phrase serves as a reminder to find joy in every moment.

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Funny camping moments often arise when dealing with nature’s unpredictability—think of the challenges of assembling a tent in the wind or the hilarious mishaps of cooking outdoors. Embracing the laughter that comes with camping brings friends and family closer together, creating unforgettable memories.

This witty saying makes for great decor on camping-themed items, like T-shirts, mugs, or wall art, perfect for any outdoor enthusiast’s collection. Ultimately, “Camping: It’s in tents!” encapsulates the fun, camaraderie, and shared experiences that make camping a cherished adventure filled with laughter and joy. So, gather your friends, pitch that tent, and let the good times roll!

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A "word pun campsite" is a playful and creative approach to camping that incorporates clever puns and wordplay into the outdoors experience. Think whimsical signs, fun T-shirts, and campfire stories that feature witty humor related to nature and camping. Whether it’s a sign that reads, "You can’t buy happiness, but you can camp (and that’s pretty close)," or a campfire cookout labeled “Grill and Chill,” these puns add a lighthearted touch to outdoor gatherings.

Creating a word pun campsite fosters laughter and camaraderie among friends and family, making the camping experience even more enjoyable. You can also organize pun-themed activities and games that encourage everyone to get creative. Ultimately, a word

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pun campsite transforms a simple outdoor adventure into a memorable occasion filled with fun, laughter, and plenty of puns, ensuring that every moment spent in nature is both entertaining and delightful!

Cheap camping gifts are perfect for outdoor enthusiasts on a budget. Thoughtful yet affordable items like compact flashlights, portable utensils, or durable water bottles can enhance any camping experience without breaking the bank. Consider unique options such as fire starters, survival kits, or cozy blankets that provide warmth and comfort. Even quirky camping-themed mugs or fun games can bring joy to outdoor adventures. With a little creativity, you can find cheap camping gifts that inspire memorable experiences in nature!

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[wanderguidehub]

The Review of Amazon Basics Tent

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.5 out of 5. Purchase on amazon Pros Affordability: The Amazon Basics Tent is a budget-friendly option, making it a great choice for beginners or infrequent campers. Easy to Set Up: This tent is designed for quick and hassle-free assembly, making it ideal for those unfamiliar with setting up camp. Spacious: Despite its compact design, the tent offers ample space, comfortably…

[gallusrostromegalus]

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

[dipnots]

How to Dominate Your Next Camping Trip: The Ultimate List of Must-Have Gear!

Camping is a great way to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life and enjoy the great outdoors. Whether you’re a seasoned camper or a beginner, it’s important to have the right gear and supplies to make your camping trip a success. In this post, we’ll cover the essentials for a camp, including shelter, bedding, cooking equipment, and more. Shelter The first essential for any camp is…

[hairmetal666]

It's a fluke that Eddie ends up a gymnast. Wayne only signs him up for summer classes at Hawkins's tumbling gym to burn off his excess six-year-old energy. Nobody, lest of all Eddie or Wayne, expects him to be talented at it.

And now, somehow, he's at his first ever elite gymnastics competition. His coaches all said he was good, but he hadn't really had a frame of reference for what that meant. Not until now. Not until he's in 3rd place after high bar, right behind Steve Harrington.

They tumbled together, as little kids. Steve a tiny boy with an absurd pompadour, monopolizing the mats for insane tumbling passes and lording his high-end competition shirts over the other kids (none of the rest even wore actual gymnastics gear; they were six and it was Hawkins).

Now, he's a swaggering fifteen year old with the same pompadour and bad attitude. They're not on the same rotation, but as Eddie moves on from his floor exercise, Steve makes a point to ram into him.

Eddie doesn't react and maybe that would've been the end of it, but he ends up placing, and Steve corners him in the locker room.

"Come to congratulate me?" Eddie smirks.

"You better watch your back, Munson." Steve shoves him into the lockers.

"I knew you were an asshole, Harrington, but I didn't realize you were a sore loser."

Steve leans close, heat melting into Eddie. "You better count yourself lucky you've gotten this far. Not really a sport for poor kids."

Eddie bristles at this. Yeah, sure, his gear is secondhand, and he and Wayne learned how to sew to mend his competition shirts, gymnastics pants, and warmups, but they work hard, together, for Eddie to do this. "Don't worry about how I afford to be here." Eddie checks him as he brushes past. "Just fix those wobbly flairs on pommel."

The rivalry is hot and fierce and mean, made even worse by the fact that Eddie has an enormous hate-boner for Harrington. It's not, Eddie reasons, his fault. He's gay and surrounded by guys whose bodies are honed for a sport based on strength, endurance, and agility, Steve the most beautiful of all. So he looks, and he longs, and he hates Harrington with every fiber of his being.

Eddie's sure this would continue for their competitive lives, but everything changes the summer before their junior years of high school. They're at a training camp, the kind for world champion, Olympic hopeful types. Steve is practicing ring dismounts when he loses himself in the air, lands hard off the mat, destroys something in his knee. He needs surgery, the recovery time 6-8 months, if he's lucky to be able to compete again.

Maybe a year ago, Eddie would be excited by this development, but now it's kind of devastating. He doesn't bother examining why.

--

Steve comes back and he's--different. His first competition, he comes up, asks, "Eddie, hey, can we talk?" And, well, they've never been on a first name basis before and Steve is so so pretty, so he agrees.

"I just want to say, I'm sorry how I treated you back before. I was a real piece of shit and you never deserved it."

Eddie truly doesn't know how to respond, never foresaw this day coming. "Thanks. Uh--yeah. Thanks."

They stare at each other for a few seconds longer before Steve taps him on the shoulder and walks away.

It's not the only thing that's changed about Steve. There's this big group of feral children that follow him around everywhere now. Apparently, Harrington told them Eddie plays dnd and now they follow him around too.

He also. Has a girlfriend now. She's pretty; delicate looking. Her name is Nancy. And she's nice, or whatever. Eddie definitely isn't jealous. It's just. He's been with Steve in locker rooms for years, and he thought--well, he'd seen the way Harrington's eyes sometimes lingered on a bicep, a well-cut thigh, the intrigue of a pelvic v, and he thought--not that it matters, but he thought--

Anyway, Steve has a girlfriend.

---

They're at the winter classic, when it happens.

Eddie is doing good. Like. Really good. Like his routines, they're not flawless, but he's hitting the big skills and sticking landings, and stays in 2nd throughout the majority of the rotations.

It's not a huge shock when he finishes his final rotation, vault, and winds up finishing in 2nd. What is a shock, though, is that, when the scores go up, Steve is wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hoisting him into the sky. And, even after he's back on solid ground, Harrington doesn't loosen his hold.

And it's, like. Nothing, right? It's nothing because he has a girlfriend and, sure, maybe he's bi, but that doesn't stop Nancy from existing.

He's not going to think about it, is the thing. He knows it doesn't mean anything, so he isn't going to dwell. It's definitely not all he thinks about during the podium ceremony, or after when he talks to media, or even later walking into the empty locker room.

Or. He thought it was empty. But Steve is there, smiling, saying "you were amazing out there."

They hug again, and Eddie tries not to enjoy the warmth of Harrington's body, the comforting strength of his toned biceps. Eddie pulls back and Steve is--he's so close, gazing at Eddie's lips and--

Steve's mouth is hot and sweet, like he's wearing cherry chapstick, and Eddie can't--he thinks of Nancy; she's nice, doesn't deserve this, they should stop--

But he's sucking on Steve's tongue and Steve is making the sweetest sounds, hard against Eddie's thigh, and nothing else matters.

---

It goes on for months.

Eddie knows he needs to end it, vows to as soon as they're apart.

It all goes out the window as soon as they're together again. He can't get enough. It's Steve. How is he supposed to resist?

(He needs to. It's horrifying, what they're doing to Nancy)

---

The children who follow Steve around invite him to dinner after the first day of the USA gymnastics championships.

Nancy is there.

It's the worst three hours of his life. He can't look at Steve, can barely speak to him.

Nancy is beautiful and smart and kind and strong. She doesn't deserve any of this.

And when Steve drops by his hotel room hours later, Eddie greets him by saying, "I can't do this anymore."

Steve's shoulders drop, eyes squeezing shut. "Right. Yeah, I--Yeah."

"I like you, Steve. A lot. But I can't--you have a girlfriend. And I can't keep being whatever this is for you."

Steve nods, won't meet his eyes. "You're right. It's not fair to either of you. I--My parents expect--And I--I'm sorry," he whispers the last part.

Eddie smiles, heart aching. "Sweetheart. I get it. But. Figure out your shit, yeah? Maybe then we can talk?"

The smile Steve flashes him is a broken thing. "Maybe. Sure."

And that's it.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

The next day, he wins first in the all-around.

---

He and Steve stop speaking.

Somewhere around, ohh, the very first time they hooked up, he caught feelings. So sue him if it kills him, seeing Steve at every competition.

They don't speak again until the Olympic trials. And isn't that ridiculous? Eddie at the Olympic trials. It's such an insane pipe dream, being an Olympian, that he doesn't actually have any expectations whatsoever.

So knock him over with a feather when he fucking makes it on the team.

And so does Steve.

The announcement rings out, and Steve is there, out of nowhere, pulling Eddie into his arms. And Eddie's so hyped, so excited, that he just shouts and hugs Steve right back.

He pretends the proximity, the musk of Steve's cologne, the tangy saltiness of his sweat, doesn't bother him, doesn't transport him immediately back to Steve's bed.

They're teammates now; he can keep it casual.

Right before they leave for the games, news breaks that Steve and Nancy have broken up.

---

The Team competition at the fucking Olympics is going well. They've had good routines, with no huge errors, stay consistently within the top 5 scores. But then they're on the last rotation, parallel bars, and he's the very last competitor to go. They'll win bronze if he can score above 14.933.

But

He's inconsistent on parallel bars, always has been, something deep and psychological he can't quite let go of, and now their medal chances are all on him.

He salutes the judges, jumps into his starting position--and his mind goes quiet. Muscle memory, skill, years of training take over--he's flawless.

Eddie sticks his dismount, and the place erupts. He doesn't have a score yet, doesn't know if he's done it, but the rest of the team screams like he has.

They pull him into their arms, but Steve is closest, his grip the tightest. Their eyes keep catching, holding, and Eddie can't really breathe but he doesn't think it's the anxiety or the excitement.

The score goes up.

Not only is it high enough for bronze, it puts them in silver.

Eddie has barely a second to process before he's being hoisted into the air, Steve's arms bracing him up. The crowd's going crazy, his teammates screaming and hugging him, each other, but all he sees is Steve beaming up at him.

He's slowly lowered to the ground, Steve's arms still around him. "You were perfect, baby," Steve whispers. "Never seen anyone like you."

He wishes he could stay right there, Steve beaming at him, but they won the silver--they won the silver at the goddamn Olympics--and they have to get medals, do interviews.

They don't have a chance to be alone together until they're back at the Village, where Steve is just waiting in Eddie's room when he gets back.

"Is this okay?" Steve asks. "I wanted to talk to you and Jason let me in, but I can--I'll leave."

"Please don't." Eddie swallows. "Stay."

Steve smiles, a little. "I needed to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did to you and Nancy. It was unfair to both of you. I love her, you know? But she's not who--I'm not in love with her."

"No?"

"No. I thought it would make my parents happy, settling down with a nice girl. But it turned out it didn't actually make a difference to them, who I dated. And she isn't who I wanted to be with."

"I'm proud of you for figuring out what you really wanted. It's brave."

"I wish I could've been brave earlier." He gives a little laugh. "Before I hurt you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He wishes the same thing.

"Um, which is also why I'm here." Steve plucks at the waistband of his Team USA Nike joggers. "I wanted to see if maybe we could try again? Officially this time?"

Eddie can't keep his smile from taking over his entire face. "Sweetheart, I would love to."

"Yeah?"

And Eddie just--after all this time, he just--pulls Steve into his arms and kisses him. The silver medals, still around both of their necks, clink together with the force, but neither of them really care.

Steve sighs, nuzzles his nose to Eddie's. "Missed you so bad," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Eddie smiles. "But kiss me a while."

Eventually, they fall back onto Eddie's bed, which makes a horrible noise as their combined weight topples onto it, and they break apart to laugh. Steve smooths back his hair, wrapping a few fingers through his curls to keep Eddie close, even though he's not about to go anywhere.

"Can't believe we made it all the way here." Steve's looking at him like he hung the moon

"Cause we're taking medals home?"

"Honey," he laughs. "Because I'm taking you home."

[darklordofthesimp]

Anything IV (König x Reader)

Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

Requested by: Literally fucking everyone.

A/N: WHY WAS THIS SO HARD TO WRITE???

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic language

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

You were exhausted. 

Sleeping was a luxury that you couldn't afford, not that you hadn't been trying. You weren't fond of the night terrors that came to visit whenever you closed your eyes. They were the worst part of it all, you thought. 

It was early, too early for training but, nonetheless, you slowly crawled from your bed. It didn't take long to get ready but it did take time to pull yourself from the mirror. 

You couldn't stop staring at the reflection. Saying that it was you staring back seemed far-fetched in all honesty- the creature you observed was unrecognizable. You considered some makeup to cover the bruising, but there was nowhere to hide the ragged divots in your face, dragged through by your own nails. 

You couldn't hide a swollen nose, puffy eyes and a busted mouth. Your jaw was ballooned, and although the stitches were finally out from your face- the scars remained. You decided that no amount of money could hide your ugliness. Everyone knew what you looked like, everyone knew how fucking disgusting you were. It was almost more embarrassing to try and hide it, than to embrace it and pretend that you didn't care. 

But you did. You cared too much. 

You threw on some sweatpants and a hoodie, your training gear hidden beneath. You needed coffee- you needed something. Anything to get your blood moving in your body and force some adrenaline through your system.

You were so early.

You didn't want to go. 

You'd been attempting to train with König for a couple of weeks now, never engaging in conversation and never looking him in the eye. Ghost had volunteered himself to chaperone your sessions and since then you'd been able to work more comfortably, though you knew it was selfish. 

It was nobody's job to have to babysit you. This was an elite fucking task force, the best of the best and you had to be nursed back into health by one of the most renowned soldiers in the British Special Forces. It was embarrassing for everyone, to say the least. You felt disgusting, you felt pathetic- though, you supposed that's exactly what you were. 

Fucking pathetic. 

You'd expected the gym to be dark, the lights off and abandoned at this early hour. Especially on a Saturday, there was no one at work. Those who lived on base  would usually leave the night before to go drinking or camping, crawling back in shame on the Sunday afternoon. Ghost would be around but this early in the morning you knew he'd be out on his motorcycle, waiting for the sunrise to light up the highway. 

Upon further inspection, you realized that the door was open. The blinds were still down but the light was on, illuminating the hallway you stood in. There was a low hum from inside, melodic and seamless. You raised a brow as you approached, peering into the doorway. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of König. 

The beast was leaned over, singing a wordless tune that you didn't recognise, voice as smooth as silk. He was laying out the foam mats, running his fingers over the raised surface until it was completely flat. Finally, the sniper stood straight to observe his handiwork with a nod. 

He was larger than life when he stretched his arms over his head, groaning at the movement. Some part of you, deep down, was in awe of his sheer size. The other, more dominant, part of you reminded you that he'd been too big for you to stop. 

You were frozen in place, unable to move and unable to take a breath in fear that he'd hear you. König's senses were sharp and the slightest noise would tip him off to your gawking. 

When he sat down on the bench with a solemn sigh, your blood began to simmer beneath your skin. 

"Did you want to come in, Birdy?" König's voice was gentle but you still jumped at the sound of it. A gasp slipped from your lips at the exposure and he tilted his head at the noise, leaning his elbows against his knees. 

Your mouth dried. How did he know that you were there? You hadn't made a sound. 

"Not particularly," you cleared your throat, as he pulled the balaclava from over his head. Dark hair spilled from beneath the fabric, messy and thick. He never kept a mask on when you were around, regardless of whether it was a balaclava or that damned hood. 

"I thought we were past this," he sighed, putting the mask down by his side. He never turned to face you, giving you the option to leave without the pressure of his gaze. 

I thought we were past this. 

Heat flushed through your system like a volcanic eruption, originating in your chest and shooting across your nerves. 

"Past you ruining my life?" You offered as calmly as you could manage. "No. No, I'm actually not past it."

"I meant," König corrected firmly, turning around to face you with narrowed eyes, "are we not past this." 

While he didn't say anything different, the meaningful stare told you enough. 

Are we not past you coming inside every time, even though you say that you won't? 

You stared at him for a long moment, that emerald gaze unwavering. It was nothing like what you'd seen that night, he was a completely different person. You wondered when he would snap, you wondered when you would snap. 

You saw hints of the man you'd encountered sometimes during sparring, never with you but occasionally with Simon. He targeted König, always making a point to put him on his ass but a part of you wonders if the soldier was letting him do it. It was almost too easy sometimes, as though the man had just given up halfway through. 

You stepped through the doorway tentatively, eyes never leaving König's. He held his body so still that you wondered if he was breathing, reminding you of the way a snake freezes before it strikes. 

You moved to the other side of the mats, sitting down on the bench opposite your partner. 

"I figured you'd be up," König rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders relaxing the second you took a seat. "I got you a coffee." 

You blinked at him. 

"What?" 

"I got you a coffee?" The words were uncertain now as he leaned back slightly. He gestured towards the cup tray beside him, two drinks in foam cups steaming at his side. 

You couldn't force a response from your lips- you couldn't do anything, really, other than gawk at him. Why he'd gone out of his way to get you a coffee was beyond you, obviously he was guilty but you'd made it clear you wanted none of his pity. 

"Don't overthink it, Birdy," König raised a brow. "It's a coffee. Just take it." 

"Yeah," you rasped. "Yeah."

But you didn't move. 

Your limbs felt like they'd been filled with lead, your heart beating against your ribs violently. Grabbing the coffee shouldn't have been an issue, getting up is not difficult, so why were you not responding to mental commands? You felt helpless, the realization that your mind and body were no longer yours to control- rather you were ruled by fear that you couldn't grasp. 

You clenched your jaw tightly.

Move, Birdy. 

The Austrian tightened his lips awkwardly, fingers running through his hair like an anxiety tic. The both of you sat in uncomfortable silence before finally he reached for the cup, standing to his feet. 

You remained deathly still as he approached, stopping a safe distance away before he stretched his hand out. The semblance to extending an olive branch was too obvious not to take note, although you'd be the first to snap any branches this man offered. 

But this wasn't some stupid peace twig. This was coffee. König had bought you a drink. You just needed to take it, you needed to move. 

Move, Birdy. 

"It's just a coffee," the man offered you a weak smile but you could see the apprehension in his gaze. He was wondering if you were going to break, every fiber of his being preparing to restrain you if you had another episode. 

If you had another psychotic break over a fucking cup of coffee, you'd be out of the 141 for good. 

Move, Birdy. 

It's just coffee. 

"It's just a coffee," you whispered. 

Your fingers wrapped around the cup, the heat jarring from your thoughts. König let loose a shaky sigh that you knew you weren't meant to hear. You'd become so unstable that even the man who had destroyed you was afraid. 

Your skin brushed against his as you forced yourself to tighten your grip, the brief touch electrifying and jarring. 

He snatched his hand away as though you'd burnt him with the contact. It wasn't like you'd never touched beyond the incident, you sparred with him nearly every day. But that was sparring, this was not. 

König took a seat, his gaze averted and his nails digging into the bench. You took the first sip, eyes never leaving his form. 

Just a coffee, Birdy. 

You took another swig,  reminding yourself to taste the drink. You thought of the texture, the temperature, the flavor- anything to ground you from your thoughts and drag you back to reality. When your mind began to settle and you could finally register the taste, your eyes widened. 

It was exactly your order. 

You almost choked.  

Before you could ask anything of it, the soldier returned his attention to rest on you, briefly taking in your visage. He was still concerned, the twist of his mouth clearly apprehensive. 

"We've never really spoken about what happened," König rasped, the vulnerable tremor in his voice ringing clear. 

Your spine straightened and the cup creaked beneath your grip. 

"Because I don't want to talk about what happened."

"You can't avoid it forever, Birdy," the man bit, sharp and surprising. You leaned away from him, taken aback by the frustration woven through his tone. He always made an effort to be calm and speak in dulcet tones, going against his nature to appear disarming  wherever he could help it. 

The smouldering coals in his gaze reminded you that König was neither soft nor gentle.

"No," you snapped, "but I can avoid talking about it with you."

König grit his teeth. 

"Who else was there, Birdy?" He hissed, leaning his elbows onto his knees. The question was rhetorical but you almost felt compelled to answer him.  Those jade  eyes flashed with a bitterness that you couldn't understand, intense and pleading. "It was me and you and no one else."

"What do you want me to say, König?" You spat, standing to your feet. Rage blistered through your being, buzzing beneath your skin and electrifying your nerves. You wanted to throttle him, you wanted to grab him and shake him until it finally shut him up. 

"I want you to just listen to me," the soldier implored, moving to stand but thinking better of it. You saw his hesitation, the understanding that once he stood up it wouldn't be a conversation it would be intimidation. 

Shut up. 

"I don't want to hear a word from your fucking mouth," you growled, pointing an accusatory finger at his frozen silhouette. "Unless it's to get me back on the job that you stole, I don't want to hear a thing from you."

Just shut up. 

"I'm trying to fucking apologise, Birdy!" 

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. 

"Just shut up!"  Your voice had escalated into a barely legible scream, storming towards the seated beast. You pushed through the barriers of his personal space, but König stayed solid, his eyes hard and his mouth set. 

You were toe to toe, nose to nose and eye to eye. 

Your mouth twisted into a sneer. 

"You think you can buy me coffee and that's it, we're friends?" Your voice was low, and your fingers dug into the thighs that you stood between. His cheek twinged at your grip but other than that, the mountain of a man made no move to budge. He observed you from beneath his lashes, his eyes as hard as stone and you wondered if he was breathing. 

"No," König replied simply, his words tracing your lips. "What I do think is that we need to get past this, one way or another." 

You glared at him, your fingers trembling against his legs. 

"I'll get past this, the day I can look in the mirror and get past the mutilated thing staring back at me." 

"I'm sorry-" he began but you grit your teeth, leaping to interrupt those goddamned words from leaving his stupid mouth. 

"I don't want-"

König's hands suddenly landed above your own, holding them tightly as a growl tore from his throat.

"Listen to me." 

You fell silent immediately. 

Emerald eyes searched your own, imploring you to just hear him, even if it was for a moment. If you were going to ignore everything he said, he wouldn't care because at least he got them out. At least he knows that you've heard them. 

"I'm so, so sorry for what I did to you, Birdy." König murmurs, swaying forward and taking up precious inches in the space between you both. His eyes were soft, vulnerable as he bared himself. "As far as I knew, you were an enemy sniper and I was trying to protect my family. I know that you understand that, Birdy, because the 141  is your family." 

You stared at him, furious with the tears burning your eyes, embarrassed by your emotionally fragile state. 

"I know that you don't want to forgive me, I don't expect you to. It's okay to be angry but you have to help me fix this. For both of our sakes, Bird, let me fix this." The words were whispered by the end of it, searching your features with hopeful eyes. 

"I don't trust you," you wanted to shout at him but the sentence was venomless on your tongue. König's lip quirked upward, his shoulders pulling into a small shrug. 

"You trust me enough."

"I don't trust you at all." 

There was venom in that and the soldier's features became solemn once more. You were not his friend, you did not forgive him and you would not be tricked into believing that this was something worth just getting over. 

"You trust me enough." König repeated himself, raking over your silhouette from head to toe meaningfully.

Suddenly, you realized where you stood. 

Wedged between his thighs, your fingers gripping his legs and his hands covering yours. You flinched backward, eyes flickering at your proximity. You could taste his sentences on your tongue, so close you noses would brush if you had moved an inch. 

You had allowed yourself to be in a room alone with König and willingly put yourself in his grasp. 

A cough from the doorway had you leaping apart from the man as if you'd been burnt.

Your chest heaved as your heart smashed against your ribs, begging to be let loose from its constraints. A low exhale fell from the man beside you, as though reminding himself to breathe. 

"Well," Price whistled, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. "That's sure a sight at 6am." 

You cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. A lot had happened in the time that you and König had confronted each other, none of it was easy to explain. In fact, none of it was easy to even understand yourself. 

"We were just waiting on Ghost," you rasped, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Price raised a disbelieving brow but up didn't press, only shooting König a look dripping with warning. He didn't like that you were alone in here with him, but the man had no right. He was the one that assigned König to you, he was the one that took him in as your replacement. 

John Price was just as guilty as König, except his charge was betrayal. 

A sneer settled on your lips at the reminder.

"Well, guess you can meet our newest member a bit early then." 

Newest member?

König sucked in a breath from beside you when a figure moved around behind Price's frame. They stood straight, appearing taller than they were with confident posture. 

Immediately, you knew that they would be trouble. 

Not by the smirk gracing their lips and not even by the distinct look of distaste that was smeared across their expression- but, the way that they stared at you as though you were a challenge waiting to be conquered. 

Like you were easy game. 

"As the 141 grows," Price began, gesturing to the small part of the team in the room, "we need more members to join roles that were previously left to one person." 

Your stomach churned. 

"Obviously, Birdy, you've been our main sniper but now we need more than one." The Captain was careful with his wording, watching you as though you were a ticking time bomb set to detonate any second now.

You fucking felt like one. 

As you observed the newest addition, they stared right back, raking in your visage from head to toe. Their crooked smile had you on edge, had you unnerved- but it also thrilled you. This person saw you as a threat. 

They didn't see a broken bird, someone helpless. Behind the arrogant smirk and the cocky body language, there was a hardness to their gaze. They weren't underestimating you, they still saw something across your face that indicated that you weren't done. 

But they were ready to meet you head on. 

Your expression turned stony. 

"And who is my newest replacement?" You ground out, eyes never leaving theirs. A feral grin pulled at their lips, amusement flooding their expression. It fucking made you seethe. Price opened his mouth to either introduce them or reprimand your clear rejection, but the sniper stepped forward with a snort.

"They should have called you 'Sunshine.'"

[eggonog]

Royal!Yandere!OC x Male!Knight!reader Part 1

(It's gender-neutral, but you go to an all-boys school)

Version 1

Unedited

1253 words

tw: Sword fight violence(?), Bullying, discrimination for status, discrimination for wealth, yandere themes, stalking, ect.

~~~~~~~

You weren't rich not by any means. Not as rich as the rest of the kids that surrounded you. But your family was well off enough to allow you to pursue knighthood at an all-boys private knight year-round summer camp-school combo. The Knightly Focus All Boys Academy. The K.F.A.B.A.

Most students were there for leisure. Something to do over the summer, a slightly more interesting school than normal where boys got to play with weapons.

But you were there on a mission.

The rich kids, because they weren't focusing on their knightly studies, grew bored with extra free time. And with no girls, you were the go-to entertainment. They would mock you, calling you names and trashing your stuff. Hiding your sword, knowing you would look for it for hours not being able to afford a new one.

It was fine, if anything it motivated you to work harder. Sure, you were all just children, but when you grew up, you promised yourself that you would become strong enough to defend yourself against them.

And so those ambitions lead you to catch the eye of Cogsworth. The richest guy there. You had no idea of course. (No idea how he went out of his way to buy the dorm above the training field to watch you train for hours. No idea how he bribed teachers so he could be in your class. No idea how he learned to draw to sketch you over and over. No idea how he snuck into your room to look through your things. No idea how he watched you sleep.) Why would the son of a duke talk to a lower upper class like you? That's ridiculous.

And yet here you were, sparring with him.

If you remembered what got you into this situation, you would have done all you could to avoid it. But the truth is, you had no idea.

Metal hit metal, clanging in an almost melodic way, if it weren't for your avoidance. If you wanted to get out of this alive, you needed to lose. There was no way would you win and not face punishment.

But the way Cogsworth was fighting...

He was pushing, putting effort into throwing himself towards you with much more force than necessary, like he wanted to run right through you. You could feel each hit from your opponent becoming harder, and you tried to sidestep, circling him so as to not be pushed out of the marked-off area.

You didn't know the rules of this fight- or perhaps it was a duel? What were the conditions for winning? First blood? Fore-fit? Push your opponent out of the circle? And what were the conditions for losing? Was it for honor? just practice? Was he doing this on some sort of bet?

The last option seemed the most plausible.

The air was filled with metallic slashing as you parried his attacks with furrowed eyebrows. You need to lose, but there's no safe way out. You had a tournament next week- you didn't need an injury to add to the already great disadvantages of discrimination and cheap gear that were already lowering your chances of winning.

A sword swung towards your shoulder, and you blocked it; locking your feet to twist your body and throw your weight forward- pushing him and making him stumble back- that's not good.

He twisted into a side slash, and you blocked again. You made sure to stumble backward this time. He pushed forward again- you glanced at his face, did he catch that it was a fake stumble? His eyes were slightly wide- shit- if he was looking at your feet then he defiantly- but he wasn't looking at your feet- or your legs- or even your sword. He was staring directly into your eyes.

Time slowed. You made eye contact with, him and he was grinning- mouth stretched wide. Something about it made you feel an overwhelming sense of dread. It was almost familiar. It made you hesitate, and gave him the perfect opportunity to push you back.

You fell, blinking up at him owlishly while sitting on the dusty ground- outside of the circle. You lost. And, surprisingly, weren't injured.

His chest was heaving, and he had a crazed look in his eyes. His hands were shaking. Was he that out of shape? Cogsworth glanced over his shoulder at the crowd behind them. No one could see his face but you.

"Now you're where you belong." He panted out. You weren't tired- maybe a little winded from a blow to the stomach, but not tired. His panting reminded you that you were supposed to have lost this fight- thoroughly.

You matched his breathing- ragged from your mouth. His eyes shifted on your form.

"Yeah! Things like you should be in the dirt!" Some other student said.

You quickly picked up your sword and bowed.

"Uh- Thank you. I am humbled to have part of your time." You ushered the sloppy gratitude out quickly and went back to focusing on your heavy breathing.

Cogsworth turned around to the crowd, you could see his face change a split second before they could see it. It was cocky, and 'holier than thou'. The expression you were used to seeing on him.

You quickly scampered away as the crowd of knights in training came over, changing from insulting you to praising him the closer they got. None of your fellow student knights but one would notice your absence.

That was you're only interaction with him- it was strange and at the time it scared you a bit. But you brushed it off as him not caring about keeping up appearances for a lower class.

You ended up winning that tournament, which got you a full scholarship to the best knight academy on the content. It earned you more respect in high society, allowing you to follow down the path to becoming a royal knight, just like you had always dreamed. And you did, graduating in the top 10, the fourth-best knight in your year.

You were ecstatic, the top 10 knights have the option to become captains, personal guards, or join the Royal Blood Lilies, the king's elite soldiers. You had always been asked about joining the RBLs by the other knights, but you wanted to be a guard. Following someone around all day seemed more interesting than sitting and waiting for the king to have use for you participating in ceremonies. Besides, guards had much more stable pay.

You applied with your resume, hoping the well-known schools you attended, and your amazing battle feats and accomplishments would allow for a good, well-paying job, even with your lowly house.

And it did! After all the years of cruelty you endured, the hard work and effort you put in, the late nights, the injuries, and the body you carved with callouses, muscles, and scars- you got the job. It all paid off.

You were qualified to be the bodyguard of the king himself. Anyone would be eager to have you as their personal guard. You could almost cry. Reading farther down the letter, an odd feeling formed in your stomach. The excitement and joy hit a wall- unmoveable object hit unstoppable force. You were still high on dopamine, but something was missing as well. Something changed.

Years later, after your one and only interaction with him, you were assigned as the bodyguard of William Eric Griffin CogsWorth-Renali.

Does he remember who you are?

~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, I know he has a long ostentatious name. I think it's funny, and it fits.

Also, I have been gone for a long time because I've been stressed and busy- also I get super depressed over the summer and my house is under construction. My plate is very full T-T

Thank you for reading part one of this! I don't know how to link things but part 2 will be out soon!

~~~~~~~~~

[a-twistedheartslonging]

On one hand, I'm not a fan of physical stuff and camping.

On the other, I know he really wants more club members, and it would make him happy. Plus, I get to have a lot of alone time with him and listen to him excitedly info dump about mushrooms and eat the yummy camping food he makes.

I can imagine being like "Oh I would like to join but I don't exactly have/can't afford the proper clothing and stuff needed for-" and then he excitedly pulls out his extra hiking gear and tosses you his extra jacket and some clothes he outgrew. Please join his club.

I'm dumb and thought when he said that hiking wasn't the primary activity of the club and he avoided strenuous activity when he can, that meant the club had no hiking at all. My reading comprehension skills suck. But yeah, I would work through the unpleasant parts like hiking so I can enjoy the fun stuff with him.

....aaaaah sharing a tent though. Sleeping in separate sleeping bags but being next to each other.

Platonic and romantic it's very cute, being around him a lot because of the club and interest and being confused on why the others are intimidated by him cuz he's been nothing but nice to you, his favorite (and only other) club member.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Reading by firelight.

AN: a short Gale oneshot, I typed this on mobile so please forgive any errors or formatting.

Summary: Gale watches Tav read by the fire.

The sun was setting softly over the camp, casting a warm orange glow over the horizon. This had always been Gales favourite time of the day. The cool afternoon breeze sweeping through the camp as he again started to prepare supper over the campfire. It wasn't the silence that he enjoyed, as the rest of his campmates retired to their tents for a while, to rest their battle weary bodies, it was the fact he could watch Tav. Their afternoon ritual of sitting by the campfire after battle, engrossed in a large tome left him utterly speechless. The way the light from the fire flickered against their soft skin, still a little grimy from the days adventure, causing shadows to dance over their visage was like a drug to him; more often than not he had to remind himself to focus on making sure the stew in the pot didn't over boil or burn. He never had a problem serving perfect meals when he first joined the delightfully weird selection of comrades he now had, but now the amount of spoiled food was becoming suspicious to the group as they all tried to create conspiracies surrounding this new phenomenon. The current favourite conspiracy coming from Astarion claiming "Maybe Gale is going senile in his old age, either that or the tadpole has helped itself to a few two many braincells". Wyll was ever the gentleman and always suggested that the days adventuring were getting harder, that it wasn't fair to put such undue pressure on him. Lae'zel would just tut at the rest of the camp and eat whatever was given to her, warriors were not afforded the constant luxury of exquisite food.

Gale would look longingly at Tav as they read, they were completely absorbed with their book every night so he wasn't scared of being caught, he'd imagine their long slender fingers stroking against his skin softly as he watched Tav gently stroke the pages of the book many a night, yearning to feel their delicate touch along his body and tangled in his hair, wanting to know what it would feel like for Tav to massage away his aches at the end of a long day or even relieve his frustrations.

Every night he would tell himself mentally "Come on Gale, go talk to them, you don't shut up any other time." He would try to gear himself up, he'd even thought of a good pick up line to use, yet in every scenario he thought up, it just didn't come out right, mentally cursing Astarion and his charm for raising the bar impossibly high; jealous of the way the pale elf could seemingly flirt and seduce with ease.

"Hey Tav, I'm an open book too... and you can read me any time you like." Gale shuddered at the thought of him actually trying to say that, in each made up scenario he always came across as awkward and stuttering, then Tav would look at him like he was a creep. Tonight, he told himself that he actually would talk to them, it didn't matter what it was about, hells he would talk about crop rotation or the rising 'wizarding insurance' prices in Waterdeep, he just needed to talk to them. He could talk to them out in the road but could never bring himself to speak when it was just him and Tav alone. For a man who had a propensity towards verbosity, he was always rendered speechless when alone with them.

Gale checked the cooking stew, making sure it was simmering and wouldn't over boil again, for what would be the 5th time in a fortnight. He ran his now clammy hands through his hair in the hopes to make himself more presentable, although, considering he hadn't had chance to change from his grubby blood stained robe, he didn't think Tav would be offended if his hair was a little messy. His mouth began to open and form words as he stepped towards you until Astarion burst out of his tent and called out.

"Mmm Darling." His voice as it's usual delicate purr. "Something smells delicious." Astarion takes a seat by Tav, their shoulders and knees touching in an overly friendly manner, his eyes flitting between their face and their neck."and I definitely don't mean the food." Astarions voice dropped into a lower more lustful purr as he admired Tav's long and slender neck.

Gale was stopped dead in his tracks by the interaction and stepped back towards the pot of stew, his head slumped down in disappointment, watching through a contemptuous gaze as Tav closed their book and began chatting energetically with Astarion. "It's always that damned vampire" Gale cursed to himself, wondering jokingly if he could find a pointy stick in the woods to acquainte Astarion with. He shook his head to clear away those thoughts, tonight was not his time, but maybe tomorrow it could be. "No, it would be." He told himself sternly. He promised himself that he would speak to Tav tomorrow. But for now, he would have the memory of their soft and slender hands to take back to his tent with him, it was always a welcome thought on these lonely nights, forever wishing he had more than his imagination.

[kickthecan-revolution]

A long time ago when Trump was first in office, I had a sustained two week anxiety attack, convinced we were going to experience a significant war and I had to be prepared. I’d just gotten a big bonus and I spent a ton of it on survivor gear - all of those buckets of rice, beans, dehydrated food, camping gear, solar lights - so much more. I made go bags for work, my car and home. The primary one was stolen when I first moved in here via a break in where thieves stole a lot of stuff people were storing in the garage. The backpack was in my parking spot - poof, gone.

I lugged so much of it here - over the years I’ve slowly simplified it but I’ve been a little afraid to let all of it go. it started this habit of buying extras - why not buy three Justin’s boxes of peanut butter packets even though I only need one? Why not have five ketchups so I never run out?

When R was here organizing, I *saw* it - all of the canned food that had expired, all of the stuff I was keeping in the pantry that I didn’t use because I didn’t even know I had it. She gently said “if you feel like you want to bake cookies, you can just zip over to the store and buy flour.” Part of it was never having enough food when we were little - we could afford it, my mom just never bought enough for us. It’s why I’d drive around on Christmas looking for snack food before all the kids came over. Granted, that could be my food insecurity speaking and my filter was grounded from that, it’s a very likely possibility.

Anyway. R is coming back for my last infusion bringing her BFF A who is an organizer and a professional chef. She’s going to organize so much of my stuff but the deal is, I only have what I really want to keep, consider getting rid of the extras of things I don’t need (including three spatulas, etc) and focusing on keeping what I love and use for myself every week instead of all of the imaginary dinner parties I throw in my head. So that’s what I’ve done today, after…11 hours of sleep? I’ve been slowly whittling it all down and it feels so great. I’m 90% done. It’s not as much as I thought but it’s just so good to let it go.

My surgery is tentatively scheduled for October 01, pending what happens with this biopsy on Friday. That feels lightning fast. My last chemo infusion is next Wednesday - I’m not going to lie, I’m afraid of it based on this last one, I was so debilitated by the fatigue, I had more hair shedding than usual, no appetite and the peripheral neuropathy was hard so I’m going to try to freeze my hands and feet during the infusion to prevent it. It has definitely lessened, thank God but it’s not gone away entirely. It can take a long time.

I cry so frequently these days, even writing that it’s the last one. I’ve held it all together for five months, and I can feel the emotional and mental reserves I’ve leaned on to that beginning to crumble. That’s probably good. Things are starting to get……thin when I’m sleeping. My dreams are wild and I heard repeated knocking three times last night. My cats were on high alert. I pit myself in a golden bubble and reminded myself that I live in a building where people could be knocking at other doors, not likely at 3am but it helped. I stayed up until 4:30am watching The Office and then slept hard until 9am.

I’m numb when I think of the MRI biopsy on Friday, two of my worst things happening at the same time is like a cruel joke (biopsies aren’t painful but just traumatic waiting for the results). I’m strong - I can and will do this. And then chemo, and then the surgery which completely freaks me out - I have a massive fear of “going under” - and then I’ll know what happens after those biopsies come back.

In talking about work, my oncologist recommend that I extend my leave of absence to at least March of next year. The neuropathy is concerning her as are my cognitive tests, and I think for a living. She reminded me how they have taken my body to the point of decline where the basics work but there’s a lot of damage. And the mental damage of all of the biopsies on top of that, she thinks I need time. I agree with her. So I’m going to pursue that, it means I live on a lot less and I don’t think I am guaranteed a job when I go back but I’m not worried about that.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Rain on my parade

I can’t find it but this is inspired by that post about how if you create a lot of cold air (like Danny with his ice power) you could potentially create a cold front which would cause rain! So thank you, this was inspired by that wonderful science-enthusiast.

It had been days. At first, Bruce hadn’t given it much thought, forecasts were wrong all the time. That a supposedly warm and sunny day had turned into a near-constant heavy shower wasn’t surprising, so Bruce had gone about his business. When the second day of rain had come around, the vigilante still hadn’t thought too much of it, but as the afternoon rolled around with no change, he got on the phone to make a few inquiries. By day three, he had called Dick in Bludhaven and on day four, the younger hero had actually answered. Considering how sparse communication was between them since Jason’s death, this was an indicator that something was very wrong.

Bruce had already sent out feelers into the underground, he’d contacted some of his less savoury acquaintances. He tried everyone, absolutely everyone, and yet. Nobody had heard anything about a new villain or a meta with meteorological abilities. By day five, Bruce knew he had to do something before everything went out of control. Non-stop heavy rain was not only unnatural for Gotham, it was dangerous. Already, hundreds of homes near the river bed had gotten flooded and people were being forced to find temporary refuge with relatives and hotels if they were lucky and could afford it. There had been no death reported yet, but the longer this went on, the higher the chance of it became. With more rain there would be more flooding that would encroach on the normally dry land and that meant more people being left homeless, not to mention what would happen if the river overflowed completely.

“Bruce, I’ve got something,” Dick’s voice came through the communicator.

“What is it?” The man asked.

“There was a sharp drop in temperature near Milford about six days ago,” the younger man said.

“Send me the coordinates,” Bruce answered as he started putting on the cowl.

They finally had a lead.

Danny was ecstatic. This was the best vacation he had ever had. He owed Jazz so many favours when he finally got back. Not only was she currently covering for him with the parents, she had driven him to the middle of nowhere with his camping gear when he’d asked. She’d said he needed time to relax and this week where he was technically supposed to be doing some kind of fictitious space program was her way of making sure he got it.

The out-of-the-way location was ideal for what Danny had wanted to do for a while, which was testing the limits of his powers. He had messed around with a few of his ability: intangibility, flight, strength, before starting on the newest and thus most exciting one: his ice powers. Since he’d gotten them he’d wanted to test his limits with it. At first he tried to see how much ice he could produce at once and how far he could shoot it. Then it was how long he could maintain the ice and how long it took for it to melt. Then, he decided to find out how cold he could go. This took more concentration and he fell into a state of sharp focus as he sent wave after wave of colder and colder ice away from him. Time started to become meaningless as his ghostly body didn’t need food or rest for a long while longer than normal humans.

By the time he “woke up” six days had passed and he felt as relaxed as he had ever been since he became Phantom. Danny let out a relaxed sigh as he sat down. Jazz would come by tomorrow as they had agreed on one week. That meant he had one last day to do whatever he wanted before he returned to Amity and his responsibilities. This was going to be fun!

[mr-geargrinder]

Dragon's Dogma 2 DLC stuff

Been playing Dragon's Dogma 2 and only occasionally glimpsing the drama, so here's what you need to know:

All the DLC items are pointless. You will NEVER need to purchase any of them.

You will get wakestones and rift crystals and camping gear just by playing the game. You will earn RC in the game and can purchase all of those items WITHOUT having to grind for dozens of hours just to afford one RC item.

Literally everything on offer can and will be found or bought in the game for minimal cost. Just play and you will get RC. Just explore and you will find items. Recruit pawns and use them for a while and you'll get wakestones through the pawn quest system.

It is actually unbelievably stupid for Capcom to even offer that man MTX options, because it does give the wrong impression about the game, on top of them being functionally worthless, even by MTX standards.

Capcom shouldn't have done this DLC thing at all, but the problem is that they've done it for many of their games, but no one raised a stink like this before. The demand was always that DLC should be optional or only cosmetic, and this stuff is. So from Capcom's perspective, this is a lot of people randomly deciding to raise a huge stink over a common practice of theirs that was not protested before. MonHun World has DLC character edit vouchers too, and you CAN'T earn those from normal play, after all.

And all of that is also taking away from the actual problems with the game, like the shoddy optimization, the bugs, the single save slot, etc. and besides all that... The game is almost exactly what people have wanted for 13 years. It's more Dragon's Dogma, almost exactly as it was before, just bigger, more expansive, nice looking, more monsters!!

It's a monkey's paw wish come true, in a lot of ways.

That 70 USD pricetag isn't great, and the DLC is dumb, but the gameplay IS great and if you wanted more DD, here it is!!.. but it's poorly optimized again and you better have a strong PC.

At any rate, there are things to be upset about, but the DLC isn't worth getting the torches and pitchforks out over. The other problems do need addressing though, and I'd hate for that to get drowned out by people angry about the option to buy cosmetic camping gear and gaol keys.

[wanderguidehub]

Anker 737 Power Bank Review: The Perfect Hiking and Camping Companion

Pros High Capacity: The Anker 737 Power Bank has a high-capacity battery that can charge multiple devices multiple times, making it perfect for long hiking trips or camping expeditions. Durable & Rugged: Designed with the outdoor enthusiast in mind, it is built to withstand harsh environments, and is therefore exceptionally durable. Fast Charging: The power bank features quick charge…

[grannycrowley]

Medal for the boys

My personal only thoughts and recalls: Aussie Labor government has awarded IMO the most disliked Leader of the government we have experienced. We suffered the worst of it. They called him Dictator Dan hardly a recommendation for this highest award. We were locked up for 262 days, lived in 5k zones where the fine was $5000 for leaving your 'zone' in the Metro. Where were the support of needy family if you couldn't leave? Over 800 in aged care died locked up so was it covid or grief. Security services given to alleged questionable company that backfired on them and members left his party. The impossible Victorian only 'rule' was two weeks without a single case of Covid before some restrictions could be lifted. Not all restrictions. Armies of police ensured you wore your mask and we saw people attacked for refusing. All this seen online with pepper sprayed or tear gas confrontations at peaceful protests. We had armed guards in riot gear and shields patrolling. New services of crowd control police were created. Mandates for the injection where you will lose your job without it. Children were denied a playground which were outside in fresh air. Businesses locked down and people had no jobs. Signed us up for Chinese road and belt initiative Infrastructure building we couldn't afford. Left the State in this financial crisis we have now Built a locked camp for future pandemics next to an Army base. This is the leader they give a Companion of the Order of Australia to? I'm fuming at this insult to the people that suffered the 'rules'

[younmexreaders]

~~ Ise x Reader 18+~~

You go on a trip to Japan and meet a snake Oni in the ruins of a village. To bypass the barrier of language, he uses his ability to hypnotize you and you reveal that you're pretty horny.

Fem Reader/Oni OC | 3.3k words

Includes:

Hypnosis

Telepathy

Consensual Mind Control

Oral

There were few places that you really wanted to visit. One of the places at the top of the list were the ruins of a village that collapsed many centuries ago. You had a fascination with ruins and places that were in disrepair. Exploring abandoned places was just so interesting to you. The ruins were incredibly mysterious but it was in Japan and you didn't live there. You had to wait until you were lucky enough to afford a ticket in order to visit.

You felt you had hit a lucky break when your college Japan club announced they were crowdfunding a trip. You decided to sign up for the club and throw in what you could for the fund. It was great that many others were also planning to go to Japan. You wouldn’t be sticking around with them, though. You’d fly together and stay at a hotel together, but you all had free reign to do whatever you wanted during the day. You planned to pack some exploration gear and slip away the moment you could. Then you would finally have a chance to see the ruins for yourself.

You were more than familiar with exploring abandoned places. You had done it a lot at home with the abundance of run down buildings around the country. With all the previous practice you had, it had a very low chance of being dangerous, even in an unfamiliar place. The worst of it would probably be the long plane ride, haha. And maybe the communication issues. But you had a conversational dictionary on hand and google for the worst of it.

When you finally landed in Japan, you went with the club to the hotel where you would all be staying. They showed you your room and handed you a key, but that was the last you saw of them. They ran off to do their own things as a club and you gathered your gear to run off towards the ruins. You were so excited. Your heart pounding in your chest.

The ruins were far away from any other forms of civilization. It did give you some worry that you were so far from safety, but there was very little chance anyone else was also exploring these practically unknown villages. It took you falling into a rabbit hole while reading old stories to even know it existed. You felt pretty certain you’d be fine. If it came down to it, you weren’t a stranger to camping.

You trotted up to the crumbling walls and the overgrown roofs of Hebiza Village. It was a beautiful sort of disarray. Ivy climbed the walls of the abandoned homes, flowers grew everywhere they could reach, and the tall tree in the center of the village was massive. It grew far past the limits of its original fencing, its branches stretching over the ruins to shield them from further weathering. You wandered in, placing a hand on the bark of the tree and looking around from the center of the village. From there, you could see each of the gates that used to show villages the borders of Hebiza. On the west side of town, there was a tall hill and atop it was another tree and a pile of stones. Peculiar. You took pictures of the ruins while making your way to the hill and the pile of stones. You had the odd feeling you were being watched, but when you glanced around, it was clear you were alone. You didn’t know where the feeling was coming from. It was just faint and constant.

The tall, sickly tree was a Japanese Maple. It seemed to have been sick for a long time. There were no leaves in its branches and the bark was chipping away. You frowned. At the base of the tree, beneath the pile of rocks was a cracked statue featuring a deity you didn’t know. It was missing part of its arm and seemed to reside in a small alcove. A shrine perhaps? You didn’t know enough about the culture to say for sure. But the state of this area gave you a pit of sadness in your stomach.

On the other side of the hill was a river. Clear, murmuring, picturesque. You watched it from the top of the hill, the lingering feeling of being watched was a little stronger now.

“Hm… I wonder what happened to this place.” You muttered, taking a picture of the river and turning back to the ruins. As you moved towards it, you heard the hissing of a snake in the branches overhead. You flinched at the sound, fearfully snapping your head up to search the branches for the animal. You found nothing.

“Wh-” You gasped, staggering towards the shrine. You often forget that animals would take residence in ruins. It was silly of you, but you rarely saw them unless you got too close to their den or something.

Then your back hit something. It was solid and it didn’t budge when you bumped into it. You stiffened, becoming a frightened statue in the presence of whatever or whoever had come up behind you. Your reflexes refused to stop making you freeze. You couldn’t force your body to move no matter how hard you tried. You hoped they would think you weren’t there if you stayed still long enough.

The person behind you began to murmur something in Japanese. His voice was very low. Rumbling from deep within him like rolling thunder. It sent involuntary shivers through you that betrayed that you were indeed alive and not a statue. That made him chuckle and that sound only sent more shivers through you. You shakily stepped away from him, turning slowly and turning up to see the menacing face of this… creature that towered over you. His hair was tame. It rested on his shoulders and flowed down his back like a silver river. His eyes were piercing and sharp despite the amused look he gave you. He had fangs poking out of his lips and, when he spoke, it revealed gleaming, knife-like teeth caging a forked tongue.

“O-oh… my god…” You whispered, eyes wide at the sight of him. He tilted his head, revealing the torn and tattered talismans that were strung across his purple horns and shuddering in the wind. He said something again, this time in a questioning tone. You dug through your bags for your dictionary and flipped through it, hoping to find what he said. You searched for a long time, finding things that were close, but nothing exact. You huffed softly.

He peered over you to look at the book, curious. It had the phrases written down in both Romaji and Katakana, maybe you could just hand him the book and he could find what he was saying? You shrugged. It couldn’t hurt. You handed the book to him and gave him your best confused face as you said “I don’t understand” with the worst accent.

He reached out to take the book with massive, clawed hands. One arm was hidden in the sleeve of his kimono, but the other side was hanging around his waist and revealed the left side of his torso. The eyes of a large snake weaving through roses glared at her from the tattoo climbing all the way up his arm. It took you a while to tear your eyes away, but you noticed that he wasn’t really looking for the phrase so much as reading through the whole dictionary.

“Oh, no, I meant…” you started before realizing the point was moot, “eh, go ahead.”

He was quiet, reading through the whole dictionary while you wandered off to the river to clear your head. This man was super scary looking, but he acted pretty harmless. It made you feel like a bit of an ass to have been so scared of him at first. You knelt by the water and dipped your hand in. The water was chilly, rushing swiftly past your fingers. It didn’t appear deep enough to get swept away in, but you didn’t want to test that.

Something furry brushed against your back and made you yelp, spinning around on your butt to find the man standing behind you once more. There was a massive, scaly tail winding out from behind him, with a mane of fur feathering out from the very end. You sighed and stood, dusting yourself off. He handed your dictionary back to you and flicked his tail behind him. Did he always have that?

“I am Ise,” he said, placing a hand on his chest, “I want to show you something.” It sounded like he was struggling a bit to put his words together but he nailed it. You blinked in surprise and nodded. You were surprised, but you had no reason to think he wasn’t smart enough to pick up English pretty easily. Ise wrapped his tail around you and guided you closer to him.

“Oh, uh… okay.” You muttered. Ise leaned down slightly, his piercing blue eyes digging into your soul and latching onto it with a chilling grip. Your hand you dipped in the river didn’t feel so cold anymore.

“I don’t get visitors anymore. I welcome a new face.” Ise said, but his voice was echoing inside you instead. You stared as his cold blue shifted to a natural green and then a warm yellow, cycling through colors they clearly didn’t have before. You couldn’t tear your gaze away and everything outside of those shifting colors seemed to disappear.

“In this state, we won’t struggle with communicating. I wish to make your visit worthwhile.”

You couldn’t hear anything but his echoing voice. Where was the wind? The river? You weren’t sure you were carrying your bag and dictionary anymore.

“I have little to offer, but I was once a servant to the god of harvest and fertility."

That sparked a thought in your invaded mind that he certainly picked up. You normally weren’t one for random flings, but you had always wanted to explore yourself a little. The only things you had done at this point were reluctant touching. You didn’t need to be so cautious now. At least, you were incapable of caution at this moment.

“I want… to fuck you.” You said with more confidence than you’ve had since arriving in Japan. It was hard for you to give in to whimsical temptations all willy nilly. It seemed in this state you weren't so hesitant though. The colors that tethered you only to him scared away your inhibitions. You didn’t feel self conscious about your body nor did you feel selfish for asking for what you wanted. The colors were somehow comforting.

“Haha, very well.” Ise chuckled. He blinked and allowed you out of the trance. You could feel every anxiety about the decision you made suddenly bubbling up. You went incredibly tense and dug your hand into his tail as it wrapped around your legs.

“N-no, wait. I-I don’t… I can’t,” You tried to make sense of the jumble of words in your head, “I-I want to do it in that trance. I get too… in my own head about sex stuff. I need to… not think.” You attempted to explain, scratching your arm nervously. Ise paused and looked down at you. He gave you a concerned look, but he obliged, leaning in close to you and flashing those bright colors once more.

“As you wish. I will keep your mind at ease.” Ise hummed, the echoing voice bouncing all around you.

His tail wrapped around you, picking you up slightly and resting you on the massive, thick muscles of the appendage. You sat on it like a treasure resting on a velvet cushion. It gave you a small giggle, your hands resting on the scales and fur beneath your bottom. Ise kneeled, his tail doing well to keep you at a slightly raised level. He placed his hands on your legs, kneading his thumbs into your thighs and feathering your neck in kisses. You were pricked by his teeth every so often, but it felt nice to get the gentle pecks on your skin.

Ise hooked his claws onto the hem of your pants and shimmied them off of your legs. You moved slowly in this dazed state, entrapped by the colors and unable to find the floor since Ise was all you could see. He undressed you slowly, tracing his fingers along your skin as he explored your nooks and crannies.

Ise nuzzled against your stomach, wrapping one arm around your waist. He kissed your stomach and slowly brought his hand under your thigh, gently squeezing your soft flesh, and lifted your leg slightly.

“You’re gorgeous,” he muttered against your flesh as he gripped the meat of your thigh. He continued down and practically scooped you up against him. His lips met your slit and his forked tongue slid up and down between the folds. You purred quietly. Dazed eyes looking into the swirling colors that surrounded you both.

He rolled your sensitive nub around with the fork of his tongue, kneading against it for a bit while reaching to finger you. He paused, remembering that he had claws on his hand and retreating it to hold your thighs apart. It would be foolish of him to do that. He needed to focus if he wanted to keep you in this trance and please you completely at the same time. He lashed the muscle against your womanhood, burying it into you and prodding at your inner walls. You mewed softly and arched your back, leaning onto the limb keeping you afloat in this sea of sensation.

Ise reached down and palmed himself from the outside of his kimono. He adored your taste, the soft sing-song noises you made as he dug his tongue deep into you. It made his cock throb and strain against the many layers of fabric that hid it away.

It took a small bit of struggle and he had to turn his back to you, shifting you around on his tail, in order for him to remove his clothes. Scales peppered his flesh and his silvery hair fell far down to his lower back. He had many scars on his person which caused you a bit of concern, but the feeling was overridden with lust once you spotted the thick, stiff member he was sporting. You could swear your mouth was watering.

His tail brought you close to him, pressing you against his chest as he nibbled on your neck and nipped at your earlobe. Then he carefully picked you up, adjusting your placement so you were bent over his tail, the tip wrapping around one of your ankles to hold it to the side so you were open for him.

“I apologize… It’s been so long.” He said, trying to fight the feral growl rising in his throat.

“I don’t mind.” You hummed, hugging his maned tail and looking back at him. Ise grabbed your hips, rubbing himself against you.

“Just let me know, okay?”

“Of course.”

Ise lined up with your entrance and slowly pushed into you, groaning softly through gritted, dangerously sharp teeth. His thick shaft rubbed up against your walls, almost too thick to get very far until you could loosen up some more. The pressure of him inside you certainly helped towards that goal. His body against yours felt amazing. His hair curtained past his shoulders, tickling your arms. His claws gripped your flesh, gradually losing its tenderness and becoming so desperate. Ise’s bucking became wild after a short while.

You could definitely tell he hadn’t had this in a long time. But that made it so much better for you. You loved being in this deep daze while he pulled you into his every thrust, getting deep into you with every inch he had.

His grunts were low and gravelly. His breath was hot against your back. You were starting to moan and grasp at his tail despite how passive the daze left you. Both of your sounds were everything you could hear. The only sight in your mind was his knitted brow and his wide, powerful body lurching into you.

“I-I… Ise, ah…” You murmured. Your voice broke his desperation and he slowed a bit.

“A-am I hurting you?” He asked, releasing his hold on your hips and leaning back, the thrusts now slow and much more shallow.

“No, it doesn’t hurt… but please pull out.” You hummed, laying your cheek on his scales and closing your eyes. This pace was lulling and calm. It kept your heat in place, but it wouldn’t bring you to climax.

“Of course.” He nodded. He picked up the pace again. But he didn’t lose himself in it this time. He rolled his hips with an angling that grinded his thick piece against your sensitive spot. You let out small gasps of pleasure every time he passed over your sensitivity. Your heat was building higher and higher, chest heaving with breath and hold tightening on his tail.

Ise knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if you came on his cock. He pulled out and rubbed himself between your ass cheeks and reached down to rub your clit. The small, tight circles he rubbed around your button was enough to drive you over. You clung tightly to him and whimpered out his name. Twitching and holding your breath as the sensation washed over you. He groaned at the sound you made. The small squeak of his name sent a shiver through him that finally broke him.

His cum spilled onto your back and ass, warm at first and swiftly cooling off. You both shivered and groaned softly. It sent small tingles throughout you to feel his spunk mark your body. You smirked and hugged his tail, nuzzling your cheek against the scales. It was a quiet moment between you two. Both catching your breath while Ise lost his energy to keep up the trance. Each time you blink, the colors fade away and you are dropped back into reality, continuing to cling to Ise’s tail.

But you didn’t feel horrible about indulging yourself. You breathed deeply, glancing around to find yourself still in the ruins. You were a little embarrassed to be naked outside, but you and Ise went completely uninterrupted the whole while. You were fairly certain no one was going to show up now.

Your means of communicating with the Oni were momentarily unavailable. He handed you your clothes and led you down to the stream so you could clean yourself off. He stayed close to you, but his eyes were on the surroundings. It seemed he was protecting you closely while you cleaned up and redressed. It was nice to have this giant wall of muscle protecting you. But you can’t stay forever. You have a life back home. Siblings and parents who might worry about you just randomly disappearing.

“Thanks for this, Ise… I don’t know if you can still quite understand me, but… I had a lot of fun.” You smiled up at him, pulling your pants and shoes on, kneeling down to tie your laces. He replied in that odd Japanese that you couldn’t translate, but the inflection made it seem that he agreed. You waved him farewell and hurried back to town.

You didn’t think you’d have a vacation like that again. What were the chances that a monster would be both horny and chill enough to do that with you? This vacation will be in your memories for a long, long time. 

[ouraboras]

Ranking Alucard's Designs, Best to Worst

I've had a rough day and feel like being mean. These are just my opinions. Some rules:

I’m not counting each game a character appears in unless the design is noticeably different. I don’t count different art styles as a different design. I’m not counting the mobile game skins with two exceptions. For the most part it’s just him but purple. However, for your pleasure, joker Alucard:

Symphony of the Night

No surprise. It’s his most iconic design. He’s gorgeous. I enjoy how he wears a mixture of human clothes (the jacket) and more stereotypical vampire clothing like the cape. Same with warm colors with black and silver.

2. Grimoire of Souls

I love this design. I kiss it every night before I go to bed. I pray to it on Sundays. His waist makes me go feral. The only thing that bothers me is the brown lining. I wish they did something like the inside of his SotN jacket.

3. Moonlight Rhapsody – Outfit 3

I know absolutely nothing about this game. However, I love this skin. In my head when I imagine Alucard pre-Dracula betrayal this is it. The collar is a bit silly but I can look past it. I love the sleeves. The only critique I have is the brown and we’ll get to my feeling on Alucard wearing brown. But on this outfit, it’s not too bad.

4. Nocturne

They gave him his gay little neck ruffle back nature is healing. I wish they kept the details on the coat, but I’ll happily take the trade. I like his face.

5. The cancelled Dracula’s Curse movie concept art

I need to know what the context behind this would have been. The skirt, the pauldrons, his bloody hands, HIS HAIR PUSHED BACK. The only thing I dislike is his black nipple.

6. Aria and Dawn of Sorrow

I like the suit. The red pocket square is nice. I think it is a really interesting choice for it to be red rather than yellow as a callback. I love the choice to make him resemble Dracula pre-vampirism. All of his color has been drained and replaced with black and red. I go back and forth on if I hate or like (for symbolic reasons) his tie-neck ruffle thing. But none of that is my real problem with the design. His shoes are hideous. The heel is good.  He deserves a little heel. But what is going on with the white. It's ugly and going to be a bitch to keep clean. His slacks are too long. He’s a government agent, he can afford to go to a tailor.

7. Season 1 & 2 of the show

I dislike the shirt. I’m not a big fan of how they drew his face either. But I like how they gave him Trevor’s chest scar.

8. Captain N

He’s so rad. But to be honest, Captain N Alucard has a special place in my heart. I remember when this was the closest thing to an animated series Castlevania had. It being this high is purely my nostalgia. I highly recommend watching the episode. It is pure 90s camp.

9. Season 4 of the show

Whore.

10. Grimoire of Souls – Blood and Loyalty

I can’t find a better look at this skin. He’s apparently dressed as a samurai. I like this purely because his hair is up. I don’t see enough of that. (artists pls you’d be doing the world a service)

11. Lords of Shadow 2

The only thing I like about this design is the coat. The dark blue with gold looks really good. I don’t like the belts, but I can ignore them. My issue is the armor. I hate the bronze so much. The armor on one hip is ugly. The ONLY thing that salvages this crime is the fact this Alucard is wearing the highest heels. This looks like an MMO armor set.

12. Judgement

I only unironically like 2 of Judgement’s designs. This is not one of them. I dislike it purely because of how boring it is. They put Simon in bondage gear, gave Trevor a boob window, and made Sypha a Catholic magical girl. But Alucard has to be more modest than the actual child. They could have fun with this but didn't. The most interesting thing about this design is they made a vintage couch into his cape.

13. Dracula’s Curse

This is Alucard’s original design. It’s just your standard pop culture vampire. I like his little owl hair tufts.

14. Legends

I’m fine with changing up Alucard’s design. Hell, we got SotN because of changing it. However, why is he blue? It’s not this illustration either he is just light blue for some reason. I like the short hair. I think it’s a cute way to show this game takes place in the past. But again, purple? Really? His necktie is not doing it for me either. It looks really bad.

15. And finally, last and certainly least: Pachinko and Moonlight Rhapsody

The faces? Good. Hair? Good. But for some reason they made his coat brown. At LEAST for pachinko they had some gold gauntlets and brown gloves instead of his sleeve cuffs. But whatever fucked up person at Konami did the design for MR kept the sleeve cuffs. It’s not like there is the excuse of ‘Oh the inside is black’ because it’s yellow. Now you might be asking: Why is this the worst? I have similar issues with other designs. But here is the thing, they all did something new. This is just your standard SotN Alucard with a color palette change. It looks like a recolor skin but it’s the main one. It's a bad change but not one bad enough to not be boring.