#Gifts for Caravaners

[noisycowboyglitter]

Camping Roasting 101: How to Roast Marshmallows and More

Camping Roasting: The Art of Fireside Cuisine

Camping roasting is a beloved outdoor cooking technique that transforms simple ingredients into mouthwatering delicacies over an open flame. This time-honored tradition brings campers together, creating memorable experiences and satisfying meals in the great outdoors.

Buy now:19.95$

At its core, camping roasting involves skewering food on long, sturdy sticks or specialized roasting forks and cooking it over a campfire. The most iconic example is the classic marshmallow roast, where golden-brown perfection leads to gooey s'mores. However, the possibilities extend far beyond this sweet treat.

Adventurous campers experiment with roasting a variety of foods, from hot dogs and sausages to vegetables and even fruits. The key lies in mastering the art of fire control and finding the perfect distance from the flames to achieve ideal cooking temperatures.

Roasting adds a distinctive smoky flavor to foods while retaining their natural juices. It's a simple yet effective way to prepare meals with minimal equipment, making it ideal for backpackers and minimalist campers.

Buy now

Beyond its culinary appeal, camping roasting serves as a social activity, encouraging conversation and storytelling around the fire. It's a skill passed down through generations, connecting modern campers with age-old outdoor traditions.

For many, the act of roasting food over a campfire embodies the essence of camping itself – a return to simplicity, a connection with nature, and the joy of creating something delicious with basic elements.

Caravan Lovers Gifts: Celebrating the Mobile Lifestyle

These thoughtful presents cater to enthusiasts of the caravan lifestyle, enhancing their home-on-wheels experience. Practical gifts might include space-saving organizers, compact kitchenware, or multipurpose tools designed for limited spaces. For comfort, consider cozy throws, custom-fit bedding, or portable outdoor furniture.

Buy now

Tech-savvy options like solar chargers, Wi-Fi boosters, or weather stations are always appreciated. Decorative items such as personalized doormat, custom map art of favorite destinations, or themed throw pillows add a homey touch to the caravan interior.

For the outdoor aspect, portable grills, compact camping gear, or outdoor games make great choices. Don't forget books on RV maintenance, campsite cookbooks, or travel guides for future adventures.

Buy now

These gifts combine practicality with personal touches, celebrating the freedom and joy of caravan travel.

[sonicfandomsecretsanta]

Secret Santa

@w0lp3rtinger submitted for @silence-caravan:

A cold winter sun hung low in the sky the day Amy decided to wrap her Christmas gifts. It turned the white snowflakes silver, the ribbons in her hands glinting like the tail of a comet, and all the bits and scraps across the floor…

Well, she wasn’t that much of a romantic. They were still just scraps on the floor. She’d really need to clean up after this. 

That didn’t matter though. The day was good. Thank goodness. She needed a good day. 

Once more, she had gone overboard with the gifts, as she did everything. The Secret Santa had been designed in part so that they could all avoid breaking their banks, but Amy couldn’t help it. There was something so wonderful about finding just the right gift, and well, she was lucky. She had the ability to spoil her friends, and so she would do so to the fullest. Tails had his brick kits bundled neatly, individually wrapped before being lumped together with bows and tape. Cream got a new dress and a matching bowtie for Cheese, made by Amy (with a significant amount of help from Vanilla) tucked inside of a box made to look like a chao’s head. There was also the gift for Vanilla herself, an apron to replace the old one that got scorched. Knuckles got mitten warmers and a quartz Amy found in her garden that looked like a dagger, and Rouge would receive a barrage of orthotic inserts and cute thigh-high socks. Amy had got Tails’s help to burn DVD’s of the original Dragon Ball for Omega after borrow copies from the library (to which she gave a donation). Lastly, as always, she made jars upon jars of chili for Sonic, shelf-stable and locked tight in shatter proof jars, for him to use through the year.

Amy sighed, stretching from her place on the floor before leaning back into the footboard of the couch. She let her eyes close, head falling back atop the cushion while a blind hand drifted back and forth across the carpet looking for her hot chocolate.

There was only one more gift to wrap, and it was the one she had been worried about all year. 

The dark chao-head mug sat atop her coffee table. She had bought it way before Christmas was even on her mind, had even told Shadow she had gotten it for them, but when by sheer dumb happenstance she got him again, even after Rouge was barred from drafting the Secret Santa list, well, it felt like fate. It was, by all accounts, adorable. The mug was round, perfectly shaped for a chao head, and thankfully, the lip of the mug was actually well-designed, so it wouldn’t be difficult to drink from. Its face was split into a sharp-toothed grin of mischief, on the other side of which sat the handle shaped to be the wings. Inside the mug, at the bottom, sat the little red spike ball, like a fun surprise at the end of a long sip.

It was perfect. The person she had worked with to custom-make it did a fantastic job. 

So why was she so afraid to give it to Shadow?

Amy swallowed, breathing deeply before she opened her eyes to stare at her ceiling. After a moment, she let her head loll to look out of the window, up and into an endless grey sky.

A smile crept up her face. Shadow had already told her she would be receiving a pasta maker attachment for her mixer. She knew he wouldn’t wrap it. He wouldn’t even put a bow on it. He’d just hold the box with its scribbled-out price tag quietly off to the side until he’d hand it to her, not making eye contact, not saying a word, and yet…

Amy’s brow slowly knotted itself.

And yet.

She shook her head. This was stupid. She was looking way too hard into this. They were her friend, just like everyone else was. Shadow was sweet, and kind, and it was perfectly normal for a friend to get another friend a gift. Heck, that was why this whole orchestrated gift exchange thing was set up, and they’d been doing it for years. Why did it matter now? And what did it matter at that?

But Shadow didn’t do Christmas, ever. He only did the Secret Santa when Amy begged him to, all those years ago, and he didn’t even really like the party until Amy started hosting.

Amy shut her eyes, watching as the blue sphere that took the place of the sun dance there in the darkness.

She would not look deeper into this than she needed to. That lesson had been learned with Sonic, and really, she was lucky that they were still good friends. It had taken years to get to this point and in no way, shape, or form was she about to go and mess everything up by assuming things about people, least of all Shadow.

Besides, if Shadow wanted to tell her something, he’d tell her. She knew this, didn’t she?

But then… would they?

Amy ran her nails along the inside of her palm.

Would they really be honest with her? Would they sit down and pour their heart out, say how they feel, tell her what she meant to them, if she meant anything to them?

She shook her head. That didn’t sound like something Shadow would do.

No. If she had to guess, with something like this, Shadow would probably just keep doing what they were already doing. Maybe there would be small changes, but they’d be hard to catch, because Shadow didn’t just change for anyone. It might be that they would go out of their way a bit more, but just a bit, or maybe, they’d make some small concessions to try things they normally wouldn’t, but they’d never outright say why.

Yeah, that was more like them.

Maybe that was why this whole thing about the Secret Santa sat oddly with her.

Amy opened her eyes, lips pursed. It’s not like she was dumb. When Shadow said they’d be at the Christmas party, everyone was shocked, even more so when he agreed to do the Secret Santa. It had been years since that first one and he hadn’t let up yet, not even the one year he was going to be away in Holoska. He still Chaos Controlled home just long enough to give Amy her gift.

Oh yeah, they had been Secret Santa partners that year too. Damn, how long had Rouge been allowed to be in charge of that thing? How did nobody notice sooner?

Well, then that solved that one. It wasn’t like he was going out of his way to give ‘her’ a gift; he was just making sure to fulfill the promise he made when he signed up for the gift exchange.

Why did her heart sink at that thought?

Amy blinked back the prickling of her dry eyes as she sat up and reached for her mug of hot chocolate, now cold chocolate, from the table. She sipped it as she eyed the Dark Chao mug.

It’s not like any of this mattered. It’s not as if she-

Amy paused, then, she took in a sharp breath.

“Nope!” She downed her hot chocolate before rushing to stand. “We’re not doing that! We are nooot doing that. Nope nope nope!”

She moved to the kitchen and rinsed her mug out in the sink, setting it on the drying mat before looking out the window to the city street below. It hadn’t snowed yet, not enough to stick anyway. Instead, the streets were flooded with last night’s rain, the snowflakes that hung from the telephone polls and traffic lights swaying morosely in the chilly December air.

Shadow would have something to say about it. Or rather, he’d make a face, and Amy would understand, and she’d laugh, and then they’d get those little wrinkles around the corners of their eyes, and that’s how she knew they were happy.

Amy caught herself smiling and shook her head. “Don’t do it,” she muttered. “It’s not a good idea.”

Even as she said it, she could see in her mind exactly how those little wrinkles would crease their skin. Maybe there would be this little twitch in their lip- sometimes that happened, especially if they were trying to not laugh. Maybe they’d look at her with that twinkle in their eye and-

Amy gave a growl of frustration before stomping off to her room.

Fine. Whatever, stupid brain. Two can play this game.

Her tarot cards were in the drawer of her bedside table, kept in a nest of odd beads, pretty rocks, and the crumbling remains of flowers. She snatched them, catching her knuckles on the lip above the drawer as she did so, and hissed as she slammed it shut once more. Her hands shook as she flopped onto her bed as she furiously shuffled.

“This is dumb.” she muttered, drawing the first card. “I know this is dumb.”

Staring back at her was the high priestess, reversed.

Amy shook her head. “Don’t you start too. I’m not repressing anything.”

She shuffled the cards again. The next card she pulled made her snarl. It was the Ace of Cups, also in reverse. 

“I’m not resisting anything!” She hit her pillow hard enough to pop some of the stitching. “Just give me a real answer! You’re not being fair!”

Amy took one breath, then the next. Her fingertips tingled as everything in her screamed to pull one more card, just one more.

So she did. 

It was not the Lovers. That was good, had it been, she might have died. What she found in her hand as the star, upright. It showed a person sitting on a rock looking towards the sky. Above their head shone a brilliant star against the backdrop of inky darkness.  

“Hope.” Amy said quietly, turning it as she did so that it caught the light from her window. 

She lay there for a moment, watching the silver foil of the card flash in the soft darkness of her room. Amy gathered the other cards she had pulled and made them into a neat stack without looking. She could feel their weathered edges, little fraying pieces of paper that had come away with time, and she thumbed them gently as she stared into the ceiling. 

And there, again, in her mind, against the backdrop of white paint, she swore she could see Shadow’s smile. 

Amy took a deep breath. 

The scream she gave startled the birds from their telephone wire outside. They took to the sky in a flurry, eyes wide, wings powered by a hundred furiously beating hearts. 

[harocat]

I'm by no means an Ilia hater. He's a fantastic athlete. I'm not big on his programs this year specifically (short is a bit boring and the free feels more like an exhibition), but I've enjoyed the ones he had the past two seasons before (Succession and Malagueña were particularly strong).

But, and I will not deny this at this point, damn does watching him make me miss Nathan so much.

[absoluteocellibehavior]

Shout out to Caravan Palace and Sleep Token for being the only reason I’m surviving these summer courses.

[whats-in-a-sentence]

African Sunrise

Gertrude May Lutz

Sky

Over the last star;

The parrot-winds

Sharp-beaked with yellow

Nipping the bunched date palms . . .

Now the camels

Open their beeswax eyes

And raise long necks,

Rutted sound in their throats –

Camels, pock-marking the sand with spread knees,

Lifting the odor of under-body with them.

Sun –

The burn of it

Hot-coined to each eyelid,

And desert-stretched,

the caravan of hours

not yet begun.

"Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle... And Other Modern Verse" - compiled by Stephen Dunning, Edward Lueders, and Hugh Smith

[lilylovesadventure]

(via "Home is Where we Pop Up Dandy Trailer Tent" Magnet for Sale by BeccaAelishe)

[pyroburns-23]

High Tides and Good Vibes 😎 🌊🐳

Water colours & treated for protection 😍 perfect for holiday home, caravan ect

🤩Available now 🤩

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Desert Bandit - DubCon

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rules his tribe with an iron fist. Heartless, he's called. His soul as unmoving and unkind as the desert itself.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who prays to no God but the desert and her bleached bones.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who dreams every night of a woman, a lover as dear to him as water in the hamada.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who finds your caravan by pure luck. People seldom travel this route - the springs are fickle and even one dried well is a death sentence.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches from a distance, dipping behind the dunes if anyone looks his way for too long.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who hears the desert wind whispering in its sibilant way and knows this caravan is special somehow. Who calls his band together to raid you, even though they've already hit three camel trains in the last week.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who waits for nightfall before he brings steel and fire and choas down on you. Who revels in the blood he spills, each drop an offering to the desert.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who sees a figure running from him, their cloak streaming behind them. Yandere! Desert Bandit whose blood is up, who wants nothing more than a good hunt.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rides you down, his scimitar close enough to cut your cheek before you dive away from him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leaps from his horse without even stopping her. Who looks to you less a man and more a jinn. How else could he be so quick and so cruel?

Yandere! Desert Bandit who catches your wrist as you swing your dagger at him, laughing like you're nothing but a hare in his trap.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who sees your face and feels his blood turn to ice.

It's you. The woman from his dreams.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who realises suddenly that they were no mere dreams. No, they were a premonition, a promise. A gift from the desert herself.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who won't let his promised bride slip away, no matter how you twist and turn in his grasp. Who grips your wrist so tightly you have no choice but to drop your dagger.

Yandere! Desert Bandit with eyes rimmed in kohl, glinting gold with the reflected firelight. Glinting gold with lust.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who brings his sword to your throat and threatens to spill your heart's blood all over the thirsty sand if you don't come with him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who forces you onto his horse and is quick to climb up behind you. One arm wrapped around your waist so he can savour the curve of your body. A woman in his arms, his woman.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who calls to his men to meet him at sunrise so that he can steal a few hours with you.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who feels your hips rubbing against him in the saddle, no matter how fast or slow he rides. Who has to grit his teeth against his desire.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who smells of smoke and musk and blood.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rides almost half the night to bring you to an oasis.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leads you to pool of water and commands you to drink. Who watches the water drip down your neck and catch on your collarbones.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who has never been more desperate to lap up spilt water, even with a reservoir to infront of him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who sits down in front of you and unwraps his litham. His hair is dark and smooth as oil. It falls past his shoulders and he gruffly tells you to brush and braid it.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who wants to moan when he feels your nails running along his scalp and neck.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who slowly turns to face you when you're done. He's on his knees like a supplicant and he doesn't even know it.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rests his hands on your thighs. You fear the heat of him - his hands, his eyes - will surely burn you alive.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who offers you a choice. You can stay here in the oasis and he'll leave you as you are - virginal, untouched.

Or he can make you his bride. On this night, in this place.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches your breath hitch, who sees the doubt creep across your face.

Why?  You ask. Why not just take what you want?

Yandere! Desert Bandit who plays with your hair while he speaks. Who does it so absent mindedly that it's almost proprietary. Like he owns you already.

I can steal gold and jewels. I can steal the breath from a man's lungs and the life from his body. But this, this one thing, must be given willingly.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches your heart war within you. The desert has you trapped more tightly than chains or bars. Even in an oasis, you can't survive on your own. You need him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who holds perfectly still as you lean forward and kiss him. It's chaste almost, a shy press of your lips against his. And he's thinking that there'll be nothing chaste between you before the night is done.

You don't know it but a kiss given willingly is all he needs to appease the desert.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who lays his palm across the nape of your neck and pulls you back to him. Who bites at your lips until you give in and open your mouth. Who holds you in place when you try and pull away from his tongue and its ruthless advances.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who guides your hand to his cock and groans at just the touch of your fingers through his clothes. Who throws his head back and grits his teeth when you hesitantly stroke him, your hands so much smaller and softer than his own.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches you through the tangle of hair that's blown across his face. His little blushing bride. His desert prize.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who knows only roughness and cruelty. Whose first instinct is to throw you down and rip the clothes from your body. Who has to dig his hands into the sand to stop himself from doing just that.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who lays you down on the soft sand, the firelight casting his face in flickering shadow. There is more than lust there, though you can't see it.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who runs his hands slowly down your waist, grabbing the fat of your hips before moving lower. Your thighs are squished closed and he works his fingers into your flesh until he practically pries them apart.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leans down and spits on your cunt and uses his fingers to work it in.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who clicks his teeth in irritation when you look away from him. Who grabs your jaw and guides you back.

Yandere! Desert Bandit whose fingers keep digging into your cheeks as he gets ready to enter you. He sees the doubt, the fear, the guilty lust in your eyes and he wants to drink it all in.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who tries so damn hard to be gentle and slow. But once he has the tip in he can't even try to hold himself back.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who slams himself the rest of the way in. Who snarls through his gritted teeth like an animal and digs his hands into the flesh of your hips.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who doesn't even register the way you scream or try and twist away from him. He has you now and he's going to fuck you hard and fast until he's satisfied.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who pounds into you with all those years of longing and lust and nights when he would have fucked just about anything because he dreamt of you.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who uses your hips to pull you onto his cock with every thrust. His escaped hair hanging around his face and his canines gleaming.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who hooks one arm around your lower back and literally lifts you off the ground so he can go deeper.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leans forward and bites into your tits. Hard enough to leave bruises that turn purplish blue by the morning.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who deep down in his conscious mind knows he's hurting you like crazy. But it's all animal instinct in control and he doesn't stop even though you're begging him to please stop, please, it hurts.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who slams into you as deep as he can when he comes. Who forces a rough, biting kiss onto you even though you try and turn away.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who digs his hands into the sand next to your head and just spends a minute trying to get his breath back.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who finally pulls out of you. Who slowly becomes human again.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who realises his bride is a crying, bleeding mess under him. Who makes you wrap your legs around his waist so he can slowly pick you up.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who walks into the water and holds you close as the blood and tears wash away.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who coos at you until you lift your head from his neck and look at him. He looks apologetic almost, but his gold eyes are still filled with want, with devouring lust. You are the bandit's bride and there's no escaping it.

He truly was the worst of thieves.

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … TOJI AND Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT (PART 5) … 899k views

꩜ : actor!toji x gn!reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 (they are actress!reader)

sfw for the most part, fluff, crack, peeping toms & perverts (toji deals w them <3), cute babies, use of y/n

⤷ the way tojiyn is just real at this point…

a/n: thank you so much for 3000 followers that is literally crazy! thank you all sm for enjoying and supporting my fanfics🩷🩷. as a gift u all get more actor toji. i just missed him <33

_____= your name

masterlists

from the actor![character] series:

actor!toji masterlist

actor!nanami & actress!yn being a couple

actor!levi & gn!reader being a couple

taglist: @okayiamkassandra | @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | @ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved

*

꩜ first clip

posted on toji’s (mostly inactive) instagram, a clip of you with a little baby no more than a year old standing on your lap. you make funny, expressive faces as she giggles and mumbles in an adorable, pure manner. the pinnacle of innocence.

“look at that! who’s that, baby?” you ask the baby, referring to the person behind the camera.

you turn her around, making her look up. she points, her face beaming with a toothless smile.

“ahh!” she squeaks.

you giggle.“it’s toji!”

a huff is heard from behind the camera and a big hand comes and strokes the baby’s chubby cheeks. “hi princess.”

the clip ends there, but the reaction from the internet only begins.

-

@ynb11111gestfan

a baby??? wtf did i miss???!:!:!

@justalurkeracx0unt

YOU GUYS ADOPTED?????????

@gojosbl!ndfold

which one of you gave birth

@tojizbigfatbreederballzinmymouf

girldad toji? my biggest dreams have come true💕💕

⤷ @herbigdoeeyesss

YOUR NAME?????

-

it’s safe to say, everyone was confused about who this random baby was. so, you were the one to clear things up by posting a video on your story;

“i’m sorry for the confusion guys. yes, me and toji had a baby. toji had a very long labour and he worked so hard and gave birth to a little baby girl <3”

well, that cleared things up.

꩜ second clip

toji walks out of a elevator and is…carrying you in his arms. bridal style. with your bodyguards following close behind (not that you need bodyguards when toji is with you).

the man holding the camera asks toji, “why are you carrying them?”

instead, you respond with a shrug, “my feet hurt.”

toji doesn’t even react. he just walks down the corridor, carrying you like he does it every day.

꩜ third clip

shortly after you began filming for a minor role in a popular television series, there are rumours floating around of toji allegedly physically assaulting one of the members of staff on set.

of course, everyone has all kinds of theories of what happened, but many people are not surprised because, well…it’s toji. they are not shocked by this type of behaviour coming from him.

but then, all is revealed by TMZ in a short youtube video, being a oh so nosy individuals they are:

“we got leaked information about what happened on that set. apparently, the staff member had been secretly recording y/n in their caravan, even when they were getting dressed! disgusting, i know. it’s said that toji spotted them and ‘took’ matters into his own hands. and by that, i mean throwing hands. toji is now being accused of assault by said staff member. in my eyes,” the reporter throws his hands up, shrugging, “that freak got what was coming!”

after that, people are on toji’s side, praising him for what he did. but enough people believed his actions to be extreme and overly violent.

so he releases an apology for his actions in a video, in which it is very clear that he had just woken up and he was still in bed:

“hey everyone. i know just about everyone’s heard of what happened. i would just like everyone to know that…i don’t care,” he chuckles, “i really don’t give a shit. i would do it again if it had to. that piece of shit deserved what he got. i’m only sorry for not breaking his other arm.”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji are on the red carpet in paris, being interviewed about an awards show and your time in the country.

“so, have you two seen any of the sights and attractions in paris?”

“uhhhmm, no not so much. we really wanted to but we’ve just been uhh, really, really-” you pause for a moment, a second too long as you look at toji, who is staring at you. even from this angle, toji is seen to be smirking and he winks at you.

you blink rapidly and turn back to the interviewer. “busy. yeah, we’ve been really busy.”

“that’s one way to put it.” toji chimes in.

a tojiyn truther favourite.

꩜ fifth clip

you and toji, wanting to raise money for charity, decided ti participate in the bake-off, a televised baking competition.

“okay!” you start, excited.

the excitement doesn’t last very long.

“what even is this [BLEEP]?”

“toji! don’t swear! they have to bleep that out!”

off you and toji go, baking in such a disorderly and chaotic fashion, even the other participants are looking at you sideways.

multiple bleeps are edited in due to toji’s creative language.

“phew!” you breathe out. “i think we’re making good time-”

“ten minutes left!” the host calls out.

“ten minutes!?” toji shouts.

“what? ten? we haven’t even started the buttercream yet! the cake hasn’t even cooled down! what!”

“move,” toji moves into your space, snatching the whisk and bowl of ingredients from you hands and begins stirring like an absolute mad man, “you cool off that [BLEEP] cake, i’ll make this! [BLEEP].”

you dash toward the window, plain cake in hand, and simply…stick the cake out of the window, hoping it will call down faster.

toji and you are stared at in complete and utter confusion.

after sloppily applying the buttercream to the cake, along with the toppings, you and toji are done just in time.

it is your time to present.

you and toji walk to the front, placing the cake in front of the hosts.

“hm,” the woman said, “presentation is messy.”

you and toji glance at each other.

they take a bite.

“oh,” the male judge hums, “not bad.”

“i think it’s quite tasty!” a judge with a british accent compliments. “well done to the both of you.

you and toji cheer silently and high five.

you both came in third place in that round.

go figure.

꩜ sixth clip

you and the cast members of “jujutsu kaisen” are at comic con for a fan Q&A. the place is packed full of fans!

“i…i have a ques-question for _____. I-” his voice cracks wildly and he clears his throat, causing a few giggles in the crowd.

he continues. “i-what-why-what-what do-how-” he sighs and covers his face with embarrassment.

a wave of laughter goes through the crowd, mocking the poor boy even further.

“it’s okay,” you coo to the fan, “i don’t bite.”

the audience laughs some more.

and the toji interrupts with his own comment of, “they sure do.”

you gasp. your head whips towards toji and the crowd erupts with laughter, whistles and hoots of teasing and encouragement.

the fan, now beet red, covers his face again. “oh my god.”

“great! toji look what you did!” you shout. “you broke him!”

*

a/n: new actor toji take it or leave it

[lonestatus]

your majesty an envoy just arrived. yuri nation comes bearing gifts - 50 monster pipeline punches, 10 liters of spring water, 5 iced coffee drinks, 8 casks of cranberry juice, and thejewel of their collection: a cold dr pepper. however, this caravan comes with a stipulation - yuri nations messengers say all this is for your lips only, and that you must drink it all in 3 days. shall i send them away, my lady?

[noisycowboyglitter]

Just Here For The Hookups? Essential Safety Tips for Casual Encounters

"Just Here For The Hookups": A Cheeky Camping Quip

This playful phrase puts a humorous spin on RV and camping culture, cleverly repurposing a dating app catchphrase for the great outdoors. In the camping context, "hookups" refer to the essential connections for RVs and trailers - electricity, water, and sewer - rather than romantic liaisons.

Buy now:19.95$

The phrase embodies the priorities of many modern campers who seek comfortable amenities while enjoying nature. It's a tongue-in-cheek admission that while they love the outdoors, they also appreciate the conveniences of home. This witty declaration is often seen on t-shirts, mugs, and camping gear, serving as a conversation starter at campgrounds.

Beyond its humor, the phrase highlights the evolution of camping. From rugged, off-grid experiences to more luxurious "glamping" setups, it acknowledges the diverse ways people enjoy the outdoors. It's a nod to those who prefer their wilderness adventures with a side of modern comforts.

For RV enthusiasts, it's a badge of honor, celebrating their mobile lifestyle and the technical know-how required to manage these connections. It's a fun way to bond with fellow campers over shared experiences and the sometimes comical pursuit of the perfect campsite with all the right hookups.

Buy now

Camping RV Caravan Motorhome: Home on Wheels Adventure

This versatile combination represents the epitome of mobile outdoor living. Whether it's a compact caravan, a spacious RV, or a fully-equipped motorhome, these vehicles offer the perfect blend of adventure and comfort for outdoor enthusiasts.

These mobile homes come in various sizes and styles, catering to different needs and preferences. They provide essential amenities like sleeping quarters, kitchenettes, and bathrooms, allowing travelers to explore the wilderness without sacrificing comfort.

Buy now

Perfect for both short trips and extended journeys, these vehicles offer the freedom to roam, discover new locations, and create a home wherever you park. They're ideal for family vacations, romantic getaways, or solo adventures.

Camping with an RV, caravan, or motorhome combines the thrill of outdoor living with the conveniences of home, making it an increasingly popular choice for modern explorers.

Caravan Lover Gifts: Delighting Road Warriors

Perfect for nomadic souls, these presents celebrate the caravan lifestyle. Consider practical items like collapsible kitchenware, space-saving organizers, or multi-functional tools. For comfort, cozy throw blankets or custom pillows are ideal. Tech gadgets like portable solar chargers or Wi-Fi boosters enhance the mobile experience.

Buy now

Personalized items such as custom map art or engraved compasses add a special touch. Don't forget outdoor essentials like compact camping chairs or portable grills. These thoughtful gifts combine functionality and sentiment, perfect for caravan enthusiasts.

[astrologysaysno]

[Hi, Hello, like 8 people wanted more of what I wrote about Strange Omega Qinghua so I guess I'm delivering on that]

[The Prequel]

To Shang Qinghua, scenting is a useless phenomena.

He understands it theoretically. It's the process in which an item is marked with the pheromones of an individual to indicate an underlying social context.

The problem is, he has no idea what it's actually like.

Despite his omega status for his secondary gender, he has never actually participated in the process. Being scent blind, the smell of pheromones is something he is unaffected by, and as something that's so key in the use of social interactions, it forces Shang Qinghua to really be able to understand other cues to give a tell on how things work.

For the major characters, he doesn't need a tell. He has wrote them down with painstaking detail, dedicating chapters and paragraphs and enough words that it would make a novel feel like a drabble in comparison. He can see the twitch in Liu Qingge's hand whenever he wants to hunt, the movement Shen Jiu's fan does when he's pissed, and the way Yue Qingyuan's smile becomes a little more lifeless whenever the Qing Jing Peak Lord passes him silently.

For the characters he didn't write, he sometimes fumble. He can't smell them sometimes when they hide their anger but after years of practice, he can tell when they're mad.

It was what made him advantageous when it came to deals. Though he could never tell when a merchant was happy with the deal or not, he would be unable to be intimidated by scent. The scent of particularly aggressive suppliers who uses their scent to pressure their business partners into agreeing to a more lucrative agreement find trouble with Shang Qinghua, he simply sits casually, as if the room that is heavily intoxicated with the scent of danger was only a figment of your imagination.

But scenting itself is an instinct, an instinct that Qinghua does not have. Sure, he can emit pheromones, but it's a rocky attempt at best, and uncontrollable at worst, with the scent of these pheromones coming out at random with no clear way to start or stop. Scenting is an intentional process that relies on a person's innate ability to imbue an object with the smell of them.

It's not like he can smell it anyway.

It's why, despite his Omega status, he has never shared his scent with other omegas. it would be impossible to properly practice normal omegaverse customs without the capabilities to do so.

In my idea of the Omegaverse, people give and mark their scents to each other regularly to indicate their belonging to a pack, whether it be something such as a family, or an organization like Cang Qiong. Many have tried to gift Shang Qinghua these in the form of pillowcases, robes, or accessories.

But ignorant to his own place in the world and the way people feel about him, he takes this as his role on An Ding to be inadvertently assigned as an outer disciple in charge of the laundry; and being charged with the task of becoming the Peak Lord of An Ding by the system, he swallow his pride to take it in stride, washing vigorously and returning them back to the person in pristine and sterile condition.

This has caused strain and even a punch to the face for Qinghua, with him wrongly assuming it was simply his destiny to be mistreated. Of course he's treated like dirt, ut's probably why he became a traitor in the first place. Time passes, and he slowly gets less and less of these gifts and continues his unprecedented distance to the people of his peak.

Maybe it was why it was so easy for the people in the caravan to throw him to the man who would one day be his demise, a sacrifice for a world that values the people of their pack so highly, that seems to place such a significant weight over protecting their own.

(He hears the whispers that pity him, that suspect him, that makes guesses on why he survived, all of which center around his distance. That the demon had came for Cang Qiong specifically and his detachment gave him an out to lie about his allegiance and pass himself off as a bystander who was just unfortunate enough to be there. He seems pitiful enough, why not let him live.)

Maybe it's also why Mobei-jun has such a hard time trusting him for so long. You would assume from a man that said he would dedicate his entire life to you, that he would give everything to be your servant, he would be unashamed in being part of your pack. That he would show a visible attempt at indicating that. Pride for your pack is important in such a territorial world.

He's grated that his subordinate seemingly refuses to show his loyalty by keeping his scent, that whatever he has marked will be scrubbed into sterility.

(Shang Qinghua was once asked by his fellow disciple what that scent was, and it clicked pretty fast that Mobei-jun was marking his things. He stays up late and scrubs and replaces everything regularly, praying that the system gives him a hand if it wants the plot to stay on course.)

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 1: The Lightning Thief

All I could think of was that the teacher's must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. oh he was one of those guys

"I believe that was question 38 on your final exam..." He [Chiron] looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question 38. once a teacher always a teacher

A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. The desire for revenge. We got a hint of dark Percy in book 1

I'd been afraid he [Luke] might resent me for getting so much attention the last few days. But here he was giving me a magic gift... It made me blush almost as much as Annabeth. tell me again this boy did not have a crush on Luke

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared - core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologise, but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up. I love moments of them being able to just be kids

She [Annabeth] loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. I think the fandom forgets this too

Annabeth muttered to me, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" Percy is so smart and so good at thinking on his feet, I'm tired of the fandom treating him like he's dumb

I was feeling satisfied after the burger, and a little sleepy, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. He's so sweet. Even if the host was Medusa

"I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me [Echidna]." As someone currently living in Australia, this cracked me up.

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you." I love Grover and Percy and their friendship, very under appreciated

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes you are. he's hilarious

A steely look of anger flared in my mother's eyes, and I thought, just maybe, I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own. I also love Sally Jackson

that's all, I'll be back for sea of monsters :)

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Sunsweet Prunes

Ray Bradbury: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the lazy summer of youth Bradbury: long days down by the river, fishing in miller's pond, afternoons at the soda shop, ice cream sundaes with fabulous unicorn worlds built of whipped cream, nickels for a dime Bradbury: and becky miller's freckled-face kisses Bradbury: sweeter than sunsweet prunes

Bradbury: sunsweet prunes, i tell you Bradbury: the only prune that's sweeter than a nostalgic midwestern childhood Bradbury: and they come in these little individually wrapped plastic packs too King: Poe: Barker: Koontz: Lovecraft: Bradbury: I just think they're neat

Bradbury: according to my stories, in the far distant future of 2001 Bradbury: we shall travel in tubes Bradbury: we'll have flying cars Bradbury: and we'll all be eating our sunsweet prunes out of individually wrapped plastic packs Poe: wait you never said that in your stories Bradbury: i wish i had Bradbury: i would have been 1 for 3 at least

Bradbury: look, they individually wrap these sunsweet prunes in plastic Bradbury: what a world! Bradbury: its like living in the not too distant future Poe: doesn't that create a lot of waste Bradbury:

Bradbury: tearing open this individually wrapped snack pack reminds me of tearing open presents on christmas morning, snow on the ground, ma and pa taking the day off from working the farm, the whole family arriving in a caravan of automobiles, aunts and uncles and cousins by the dozen, oh my! oh my! uncles a little too loud after three egg nogs, cousins playing cops & robbers in the hay loft

Bradbury: and the feasting, the jollity! too many voices all at once, raised in laughter, in song. the twinkle in dad's eye, the red roses in mom's cheeks, grandpa's baritone chuckle. falling asleep to the sounds of bing crosby on the tombstone radio, surrounded by the warm glow of early evening King: wow these prunes sound pretty incredible King: i'm sold! Koontz: [tearing open sunsweet prune container] guys Koontz: i think my prunes are broken Koontz: i didn't feel any of that stuff ray said

Poe: ray are they paying you to advertise for prunes Bradbury: no no of course not! Bradbury: i would never accept money to tell you about the incredible health benefits of america's favorite prunes, sunsweet Bradbury: full of 12 different antioxidents King: can i buy them with my american express card

Neil Gaiman: but ray! Gaiman: using the limitless vista of your inpirational mind to advertise a mere consumer good Gaiman: such a tawdry use of the gift of imagination! Gaiman: it cheapens us as writers just as the low low prices of chipotle cheapens organic rice and GMO-free beans to bring wholesome healthy Mexican inspired fusion cuisine to the masses

Gaiman: you can't leash the phoenix of creativity to the millstone of commerce! Gaiman: she must fly free! Gaiman: free like the secret dragon sauce available now at now extra charge at your local chipotle King: neil's right! Poe: about chipotle? King: about everything!!

[goddessapostle]

Storm

Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Wanderer/Scaramouche, GN!Reader Summary: You're going to die thinking about a man whose name you don't even know. Warnings: Violence

1k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Another request from @acidsbeats! Thank you for helping @ficsforgaza once again, and thank you for your patience this time as well! ^^

Damn, you wish you could fly. If your friend were here, he'd carry you down the cliff. Anemo Visions are so useful. 

But he’s not here. Bandits are. They separated you from the caravan you were guarding, then drove you up a cliff overlooking Mawtiyima Forest. You're trapped between a waterfall and a long drop. 

Your friend could hold them back. Then again, your friend could escape without certain death. Your friend is awesome. 

Except for the fact that he wont tell you his name. It’s been almost a year since you met the wandering Inazuman, but he just won’t reveal it.

“Call me whatever,” he said, more annoyed every time you asked. 

Well, Whatever won’t have to worry about it anymore. 

You dodge the fist headed for your face. Another lands in your stomach. You cough, but still manage to elbow the guy responsible. He stumbles away, clutching his nose. You have maybe a second to catch your breath. 

One man lounges in the back of the crowd. He nods towards you, and two more Treasure Hoarders walk forward. He’s the ringleader, clearly, but you have no clue why he’s targeting you specifically. He had a chance to steal your client’s wares but chose to chase you instead. 

You beat down his two grunts as the memory of him floats up from your mind. 

It was the night you and your friend met. Lambad kicked you both out of his tavern because he was tired of your bickering over the best seat in the place. This asshole tried to mug you both, but you kicked his ass right into jail. Your friend was impressed. He’d be impressed now, too, since you’ve just disabled seven of the people trying to beat you to a pulp. 

Fuck. Now is not the time to think about him. 

The mugger waves another person forward. 

“Fight me, coward!” you call. “I’ll go easy on you this time.” You smile, despite the pain of your split lip. 

The mugger stands. You raise your arms in front of your body, fists clenched, stance wide. 

You have no idea what happened next. You woke on the ground. The ache in your knuckles suggests you were fighting. The ache in your head suggests you lost. The bindings around your wrists confirm it. 

A blurry face floats in front of yours — the asshole mugger. 

“Not dead yet, I hope?” He sits you on your knees and brushes dirt from your shirt. His hand travels under it to yank your necklace from you.  

“Don’t–touch–” you try as he searches for more treasure. You can barely form a coherent thought.  

His fingers hover by your head, removing most of your earrings. He leaves you with just one pair — dangling silk ribbons that attach in three different places. 

If anything, you’re glad you still have those. They were a gift from your friend. They may be the only reason your body is identified. 

“Satisfied?” you ask as he walks back to the group. 

He hums, parsing through your jewelry with a finger. Scowling, he sets it on a nearby barrel and picks up a roll of leather. 

Five knife hilts reflect the sun as he unrolls it. 

The first knife sinks into your shoulder. You grunt, hoping he doesn’t hear it over the waterfall to your left. 

“You humiliated me.” The second lands in your thigh. 

“You have to pay for it, y’know?” The third, your abdomen. It burns with every breath you take. 

Wind rushes by your head. You think the fourth knife missed until you feel blood drip down your ear. 

“And your shit ain’t worth nearly enough.” 

There’s only one knife left. You have no doubt as to where it’s meant to go. 

You have to do something — maybe the waterfall? 

Water falls into a pool, usually, but you have no idea how deep it is or how long the drop. The fall could kill you. 

Could. You can risk could. 

The mugger raises his hand. 

You tense.  

A gaze lands on your back. One that’s familiar. One that’s full of rage. 

Your muscles go slack as air flows all around you. It gathers at some point behind you. 

“You dare touch what’s mine?” 

Your body sways, teetering in the wind. An arm steadies you, wrapping gently around your shoulders. 

Your friend slashes his other hand. 

The bandits fly. Some into the water. Others into trees. Those that can still move run away. 

The grip on your shoulder tightens before dropping to your wrists. He doesn’t untie the rope; you hear a snap! and then your hands are loose. 

You slump against your friend’s chest, wrapping your uninjured arm around him. Tremors make their way through your body. 

You were going to die. 

Gods, you were going to die. 

Your friend holds you close. 

“How?” you croak, voice lost with your adrenaline. 

“I was helping the Matra with an investigation. And...” He holds up his hand. In his palm is a knife that matches the ones still sticking out of you. The only difference is a scrap of fabric caught in the tang — the silk from your earrings. 

“You saved my life. Thank you.” 

The fabric flutters in a breeze. He stares at it, then at you. 

“Scaramouche,” he says. There’s a weight to the word, one you cannot decide is reverence or despair. “My name is Scaramouche.” 

You blink, slow to understanding. “Your… name?” 

“Call for me if you’re ever in danger again. I’ll find you. I can’t-I can’t lose you.” He hugs you tight, pressing you firmly against his chest for the briefest of moments. 

When it passes, he scoops you up — one hand on your back, the other under you knees. 

“What–” 

“You need a doctor. I’m going to tell Cyno where those assholes went then take you to one.” 

“Wait-” 

You scream when he jumps over the waterfall. 

Scaramouche just smirks. 

[dailyadventureprompts]

Out on a Limb in Lirnketh

Artsource 1 Artsource 2 Artsource 3

Seeking shelter from the dangers of the everwood, a group of foresters decided to take shelter in the boughs of a grove of titanic trees. What started as a simple shelter grew over generations into a precariously perched village that provides an essential stop off for any travellers or wagon trains passing through the primeval forest.

Adventure Hooks:

The party are tasked with delivering an important missive in the depths of winter, and are driven to take shelter in Lirnketh when the weather turns. Forced to wait out the storm or risk going astray or worse yet freezing, the party has a moment to warm up, meditate on their mission, and enjoy some cider.

Hippogriff racing is a beloved pastime in the everwood, a tradition which originates with the the local woodelf clans who used the beasts to aid in their hunts. One of their greatest trainers has taken retirement in Lirnketh, and might be willing to teach the party's resident cavalier some tricks if they manage to prove themselves to the gruff old man.

A merchant caravan has gone missing after being attacked on the road. The few survivors who made it back to civilization speak of a strange, towering figure watching them from the trees, and fret that the caravan master somehow gave offence to one of the innumerable forest gods. Investigation finds a scattering of the hired guards and wagoners frozen where they stood, their cargo ripped open and spilled over the forest floor; food, furs, and jewellery discarded in a search for something yet more precious.

Further Adventures:

The Strange creature that haunts the paths around Lirnketh is known by some as the Gelid Huntsman, was crafted from a bough of an iceladen tree by an archfey for the single minded purpose of retrieving a lost necklace, driving it to attack any who cross its path dressed in finery or boasting too loudly (as the merchant did) of their riches.

The necklace was stolen when a mundane crow caught sight of the archfey on their way to a grand fairyland ball and took fancy to the shine around their neck.

Because nothing can ever be simple with the fey, the necklace is cursed, its beauty both hypnotic and corrosive, honed to eat away at the vision those who look upon it with envy. The necklace is also slightly alive, containing the essence of the archfey’s defeated lover/rival, who is desperate not to return to captivity and is far from innocent.

Through the crow, the necklace has found its way into the hands of some bandits, and is slowly making its way up to their leader through a chain of smeagol-one ring style betrayals. 

This leaves the party with a dilemma,  keep the necklace for its bewitching power and be pursued by the Gelid Hunter, release the vengeful spirit within, or give the necklace back to its sinister maker and earn themselves an ominous gift in thanks.