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[lonewolfwriting89]

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"To bare flesh is to invite a knife"

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of a dead body. Hints of torture and violence. Blood. Depictions of war. Trauma. Explicit Language. NSFW. Smut. Soft smut.

A/N: A somewhat softer Simon, written with female!reader insert. Pre-established relationship between Simon x Reader. Thanks to @offendedfishnoises​ for all your help, thanks to @more-cardigan-than-woman​ too xoxo 

————

I wanna see the rest of the world the same way that you do, I wanna be the home that you leave and you return to, I wanna stay here in your arms as long as I can do.

All anyone wants is just, More time, more life, more healing, More love, more us, more feeling, Oh, I just need, I'm just needing, More you, more nights for dreaming, These days go by so fast and I, Oh, I just need, I'm just needing more.

There's not enough time in one life, For you and I, there's not enough time.

————

It was 2am, Simon saw the clock tick over just a few seconds ago. Sleep didn’t come all that easily anymore, even when he was curled up against your soft, warm body. He tugged you into his chest on instinct, feeling his heart flutter when you subconsciously leaned further back, resting the base of your skull against his collarbone. You murmured in your sleep, your lips parted just slightly. Simon had to refrain himself from kissing them, giving into your passion.

The cold autumn air had crept in through the glass of your apartment windows, chilling the bedroom off. It was fresh. Simon liked the contrast of it against your heat.

You hummed again in your sleep, hand meeting his around your waist. He gave a secret smile, the brush of your fingertips setting his nerves on fire. Unable to resist any longer, Simon ghosted feather light kisses along your shoulder, working across your flesh and stopped just below your ear.

You were his. You’d told him so. Repeated the words back to him as he buried himself inside you to the hilt. Nails digging crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as the pleasure exploded behind your eyes.

It was these moments Simon cherished the most. The peace. Tranquillity floating like a lily on the water's surface. He ran his free hand along the length of your bare body, burning the feeling into his memory. He’d take this with him on his next deployment. Picture it when he was lonely and needed you the most.

You shivered and snuggled in impossibly closer. A puff of air left your lips, a beautiful sigh. Simon snorted to himself, everything you did was mesmerising. Even the most mundane of things like brushing your teeth on your tiptoes, his black T-shirt barely covering your ass. He smirked, cock twitching slightly at the thought.

His fingers splayed across your stomach, pressing your skin to his. He sighed and leant his head forward, sinking it into you. He felt you absorb him, and he allowed it. Becoming drunk on the feeling.

It was this. This is what he needed. The last mission was tough, bruises still lingering on his knuckles. Cut still healing on his upper lip. His emotions had crept up on him, drowning him in the field momentarily. For the first time in a long time, he was scared.

————

Flashback 

————

Turning the corner, Simon whipped his gun clearing the room. Empty. It was dark, filthy sheets covering the tiny windows. The broken glass allowed the heat of the desert to seep in. Simon pressed his thumb into the side of his radio on his chest, his assault rifle loose in his fingers but still dangerous , “It’s a negative Captain, the rooms have been evacuated, I think there’s a body on the table under some tarp”.

The air was thick with sand and dust, clogging his nostrils. There was a distinct smell of decay in the room, tinged with bitter metallic blood. The crackle of his radio shattered the eerie silence, Price’s voice filtering through, “Understood Ghost, check the room for any intel”.

Dropping his gun down, Simon scouted the edges of the room first, his gloved hands rummaging through the wires and screws on the tables. It was the remnants of a bomb. He pocketed some of the paperwork hidden underneath, it looked like some kind of instruction manual, one of the mechies could look over it at the base camp.

Turning, he looked towards the metal table in the middle of the room, a dank piece of tarpaulin strewn untidily over what was clearly a body underneath. Poor fucker, thought Simon. He huffed and stepped closer. What a shitty way out, laying dead in a derelict warehouse.

He gripped the edge and tore it back, feeling the ground fall out beneath him when he saw what was under it. His stomach plummeted, heart racing rapidly in his chest. He felt it tighten, his head going foggy.

A mangled female body, drenched in blood laid there. Lifeless. Her skin was pale and blotchy, covered in bruises and welts. But what caught Simon was her hair. Your hair. Matted, stained with blood and vomit. It streaked across your swollen face, lips bust open. 

You. His world. Lying dead, cut open. Simon gripped the edge of the table and tried to focus but struggled. Eyesight spotting in the corners. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not in his world. No.

“Any luck Ghost?”.

Simon’s head was pounding, a high pitched ringing sounding through his ears like a bomb had exploded. Price sounded like he was in the distance, faint and wavering. His vision throbbed and he gripped the edge of the table, oxygen catching in his lungs with sand. He felt heavy. Sick. When did it become so hard to breathe?

“Ghost?!”, Price shouted again, “Do you copy??”.

He needed to ground himself. The panic clawed its way up this throat and constricted painfully. Simon pressed his head to the wall and counted. 

10, 9, 8…

He could hear the wind whipping through the building outside, carrying the arid temperature with it. It was hot. Too hot. Sweat dripped down his forehead, tracing down his spine under his tactical vest. He missed the British weather. Unpredictable. 

7, 6, 5…

The roar of an engine, one of the trucks surging into life. The acrid scent of burning rubber and motor oil floated on the air. It was thick like syrup. Black. Simon would bet Price had sent in back up as he hadn’t responded. He needed to get himself together. Fuck. He couldn’t be caught like this. Brick by brick, he needed to place that wall back. He wasn’t Simon. No. Right now he was Ghost. Ghost.

4, 3, 2..

It can’t have been you. No. Never. He’d never let anything like that happen to you. You were thousands of miles away, wrapped up in sheets of soft linen, probably drinking too much coffee whilst reading a book. He tried to imagine the smell of the fancy coffee you loved, your perfume that always lingered on his skin for hours. This wasn’t you. It was a cruel trick of his imagination. You were safe. He’d left you safe, back home. You were ok. 

1…

He heard the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs, the sound of Soap’s Scottish twang echoing off the crumbling brick walls. Simon ripped himself off the wall and raised his rifle just as Soap barged into the room. Johnny could see straight away the room was clear except for Ghost who looked oddly dishevelled, stood right in the middle. 

“Everything alright L.T?”.

“Fine”, he grunted and strode across the room, he tipped his head to the side, “Deceased female, covered her back up, it wasn’t—”.

“Understood L.T”.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Ghost appreciated when Soap stepped in.

———

Stepping out into the black of the night, Simon flipped the mobile in his hands. He’d picked it up in a market on the outsides of the town, almost certain it’d never trace back to you.

Resting his back against the wall, he propped his combat boot against the brick before looking up at the sky. He could see every star. There was hardly any light pollution out here. You’d have loved the sight. You liked gazing at the night sky, especially if he was holding you.

He ran his tongue across  his lips before dialling your number. The sound of the rings lulling him into a false sense of security. He still found it strange that the heat of the desert so quickly turned to ice when the sun sank. He shuddered.

——

Your ringtone bounced off the bedroom walls startling you from your sleep. Poking your head from under the blankets you saw the room was still dark, illuminated by the light of your phone ringing. You squinted your eyes, looking at the clock at the other side of the bed. 3am.

Who would be calling you at 3am? You yawned, stretching your back and arching up before grabbing your phone from the nightstand. 

Unknown caller.

3am.

You slid the bar across on your phone to answer it, answering it your voice came out horse, “H-hello?”, you coughed, clearing your throat, “Hello?”.

Simon closed his eyes the moment he heard your voice trickle through the phone. He soaked it in, allowing it to wash over his senses. You sounded exhausted. Probably because it was 3am. Fuck. He shouldn’t have called so late. He took a deep, steady breath.

You yawned again, sitting up in bed. You wiped at your eyes, a strange feeling flooding your stomach, “Hello? Is someone there?”, you held your breath nervously, “I can hear breathing…”.

Swallowing thickly, Simon tried to contain his emotions. What could he say? What would you say? He’d never called you when he was away before. The weight of the day sat heavy on his shoulders, forcing him to slump back into the brickwork. He let out another sigh, it sounded weak.

“Si? Is..is that you? Are you ok?”, you bit your lip, waiting to hear him. God you hoped it was him. Wishing he was ok.

“Love…”, his rough voice cracked.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, relief washing over you like a flood, “Simon…”.

It was comforting to know it was him but terrifying at the same time. You knew Simon never called whilst he was away. He’d always said it was too dangerous. He didn’t want anyone finding out about you. Something had to be wrong, seriously wrong for him to be calling you. Anxiety sank into your bones, chilling them.

“Simon…”.

He loved hearing you say his name. You were perfect. He wished he could stay with you. A prayer. One that never seemed to be answered. More time. That’s what he wanted. More time with you. His centre.

“I—I’m sorry, it’s got to be late there love”, he shivered as the cold nip of desert air whipped under his balaclava, “I shouldn’t have called”.

“What happened”.

Simon cursed. You knew him too well. He shouldn’t have been that surprised really. You’d always been able to see into him. It’s why he loved you. Not that he’d told you that. The words always fizzled out before they left his tongue.

“It's nothing. I just—I needed to hear your voice”.

You tugged the comforter up your body and inhaled, it still smelled vaguely of Simon. You refused to change it, not wanting to let him go fully, you needed him with you.

“What do you need me to say?”, you could have said, ‘what do you want me to say’ but you didn’t, want is so different to need. And Simon needed you. He couldn’t voice it properly, always struggling to say what he truly wanted. But it didn't matter, you always knew anyway.

Simon let out a light, surprisingly delicate chuckle, “I could listen to you say anything”.

You flushed a little at the flirt and curled into his side of the bed, “Are you sure you’re ok?”.

“I am now”, he rolled his skull balaclava up just under his nose, placing a cigarette between his chapped lips. He lit it before taking a long slow drag. The nicotine hit perfectly.

“I thought you’d quit, hm?”, you hummed, a tease coating your words.

“Damn, I thought you wouldn’t hear me”, he snorted out a laugh, the sound somewhat hollow, “Old habits an’all that - I’ll start again tomorrow, promise love. M’sorry”.

You rested your head on his pillow, smiling to yourself, remembering not that long ago when he was laid there, threading his fingers through your hair, “S’ok Si…I understand”.

“You should go to sleep, love, it’s late there”, Simon took another drag, blowing the smoke into the blanket of the night. He didn’t want you to go at all. He’d stay awake till sunrise with you. But, duty calls.

‘I wish you were here’, you wanted to say, the words almost escaping your lips, but instead you murmured, “I’ll be dreaming of you”.

His lips curled around the cigarette end, “And I you”.

The line disconnected and Simon stared at the dark screen of the phone. He missed you instantly, desperate to call you back. There was so much more to say. Why didn’t he say it? It would have been perfect. You’d have wanted to hear it.

Instead he muttered his confession to the desert, ‘I love you’ faded into the air, before he dropped the phone to the floor, smashing it with the heel of his boot. He couldn’t have anyone finding out about you. Getting to you. The broken shards of the phone scattered, some becoming buried by the shifting sands. Turning, he headed back towards the barracks, preparing for another day.

————

End Flashback

————

Safe. That was how it felt when you woke in Simon’s embrace. Your limbs entangled with his. You felt his muscles tense as he stretched, his arm wrapping back around you tightly. The heat radiated off his skin, warming yours. It was a feeling you loved, your bare skin pressed to his. The soft sheets draped over your entwined bodies.

You looked up at him, his eyes closed somewhat peacefully, his fingers mindlessly twirling your hair around them. Leaning up, you frowned noticing the yellow bruise above his lip, the cut on his lip just about healed. Gently, you kissed the wound, feeling heat bloom in the pit of your stomach when Simon smiled.

“Simon…”, you started, fingers stroking over the dip in his chest, “Each time you come back with another scar, I’m just going to have to kiss it better”.

His eyebrows lifted, a smirk evident on his face, “Y’know that’s only going to encourage me right?”.

Laughing, you smiled and felt the blush spreading across your cheeks, “I probably should have thought that through that before I said it”.

“No no, you’ve said it now, love”, his large hand dragged down your back making you shiver, “I expect to come home to you nursing me better —every time”.

Fluttering your eyelashes on purpose, you looked up at him with doe eyes, “In one of those little nurse outfits?”.

You saw his eyes flicker dark momentarily and he growled, “Don’t be a tease”.

“Who said I was kidding?”.

Simon tried to roll you both over but you pressed your hand to his chest, stopping him. 

“Something wrong, love?”.

You shook your head and stroked the cut with tenderness, “How did you get it?”.

It wasn’t unusual for Simon to come home with cuts and bruises. New scars and broken bones. But something told you this was different.

“Get what?”, Simon pretended to look confused, dipping his head down to kiss you. Ready to distract.

“Simon…”.

He sighed softly, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of it. He’d never been able to say no to you.

“Well, long story short, I got into a scuffle with one of the new lads…fucking cheeky cunt”, he muttered the last part under his breath.

“What—”, worry flickered over your face, eyes going wide. It wasn’t like Simon to get into fights with his colleagues, he was always so professional. Brothers in arms, he’d once said. Your mind was whirling until you heard his voice cut your thoughts short.

“It doesn’t matter now, it’s fine”.

“But—”.

“I promise love”, he kissed you so gently you would have sworn you imagined it, “Please—please don’t worry”, another kiss was planted on your forehead, making you sigh happily.

“I’ll be more careful”, he murmured the last part so softly, you didn’t catch it, “For you”.

——

The heavy patter of rain against your window pane was somewhat of a safety net for Simon, the miserable weather common here in his northern hometown of Manchester. The bedroom window was cracked open slightly, allowing the smell of the rain to float in softly. He sighed quietly, his fingers drifting down your bare side. For the first time in months, Simon felt at peace. Having you finally curled up in his arms made him just that little bit softer. Smoothing down his sharpened edges. He bent his head and brushed his lips to your scalp, a light hum leaving his throat.

“Si”.

He repeated the motion, tugging you further into him. He didn’t answer, there wasn’t any need. His actions spoke for him. Said the words he hadn’t yet said, though they weighed heavy on his tongue. Like molten lead.

Fuck. He’d do anything for you — anything. He’d burn the world if you asked him, no questions asked. Simon wondered briefly if you knew the levels he’d go to, just to see you smile. That’s why he did this, his work. He did it for you. To keep you safe. That’s all he wanted.

It hurt every time he left, his boots becoming heavier each time. His arms would wrap around you longer, hold you that little bit tighter. You never complained, not once. Seeing him off each deployment with a lingering kiss and a promise.

He felt your silken lips kiss a sensitive spot on his neck and he shuddered. The embers lighting deep in his stomach, a husky groan rumbled in his chest. You smiled against his skin, nuzzling gently.

Simon’s job was dangerous. You knew that. You’d seen enough evidence when he’d make it back home. Scars, broken bones, bruises and cuts. He’d never given you details, not wanting to burden you with that. Having you there was enough.

At the start, Simon had wondered if keeping you had given him a weakness. A tactical error. You’d carved into his heart and given him an emotion. Something he wasn’t even sure he was capable of anymore. He’d spent years within the army, specialist training to cut off that side of him, to become a ghost. Nothing. Isolated. But he was wrong. God he was so wrong. And he’d never been so happy to be wrong. You were his strength. A reason. Something to fight for. Something to live for. Something to come home for. 

————

Flashback

————

Hidden in a burnt out building, Ghost paced next to Price, waiting to hear from Soap. He’d picked out a sniper point a few streets down to try and locate their target. He’d gone alone against Simon’s wishes. Demanding to go with him, Price had vetoed the idea, telling Ghost to stand down, Soap could handle it.

Price turned to Simon and gave him a harsh glare, the continuous steps grating on his nerves. He grunted in response before grabbing the radio, unable to wait any longer.

“Soap? You there yet? What can you see? Can you see him?”.

There was a brief crackle before Soap’s distinctive voice sounded through, “Negative LT…3 on the ground floor, 2 on the first floor but—”, the radio splintered before carrying the sound again, “—But I-I’ve lost eyes on the Jack of Hearts, sorry…he ain’t here”.

Simon huffed in annoyance before radioing through, “All right…copy Soap”, he twisted looking at Price, “I think we should wait Sir, it’s a risk…no point clearing the building and spooking the target”.

Price almost felt the cigar drop out of his mouth, unsure if it was Simon Riley that had uttered those words. He was normally itching to clear out a terrorist hot spot.

“Repeat that”.

“I said we should stick it out Sir, no point wasting ammo and effort if he’s not there. It’s just 5 bodies we gotta clear out. Unnecessary risk”.

Simon could feel Price’s eyes burning through his mask, scorching his skin. He was thankful for the mask, hiding everything he’d thought to bury away, the sweat beaded at his brow. Even he had to admit this wasn’t like him. But, you. You. He couldn’t risk it. Not anymore. He had to get back to you. You needed him. And he needed you. 

Price nodded and ran a hand over his chin, “I—”.

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as one of the rookies in the corner piped up, scoffing with distaste, “Come on now Cap’n, are you serious?”, he snorted, “Why aren’t we going in? It’s 5 less scumbags on the planet. It’s not that risky…”, the rookie eyeballed Simon, seemingly unphased by his shorter height, “I didn’t realise The Ghost was such a pussy”, he laughed and patted Simon on the front of his tactical vest, “You lost your balls or something after you found that dead bitch the other day?”.

“What was that?”.

Rage. A blistering furnace burned bright inside him, his heart hammering against his chest violently. His vision turned red and before he could stop his body, Simon launched himself towards the arrogant rookie.

——

The pristine white sink turned a deep shade of red as Simon shoved his hands under the steady stream of water. The lukewarm liquid soaking his gloves. He cursed, as it making the cuts sting. He grimaced, looking up into the mirror, he could see a stain of blood leaking through the dark material of his balaclava. It was probably a mix of his with the fucking rookie’s. Scowling, he knew he’d have to explain to you why he had a bust lip when he got back.

His eyes darted to the corner of the room reflected in the mirror when he heard the door hinge squeak. Soap appeared slowly, a smug smirk hung on his lips. Simon already knew he’d have a headache before he left.

“What”, he spat, his northern accent carving the word harshly.

Soap had the audacity to laugh, folding his arms over his chest, his grin growing wider, “Did breaking his nose make you feel better?”.

Simon grunted, refusing to give an answer. It made him feel better for a few seconds, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as his fist connected with it. But then you invaded his thoughts and he stopped. Guilt. You wouldn’t want him to do that.

“Y’know Riley”, Soap caught the wild glance from Simon and he coughed, correcting himself, “Sorry, L.T”, he smiled smugly, “Whoever the lass is…she must be something real special t’ya”.

The silence was thick. Palpable. Simon didn’t want to give anything away but it was obvious as his shoulders tensed.

Johnny flexed subconsciously, tapping his fingers against his forearm. He wondered briefly if he’d overstepped, concerned that Simon might try to strangle him. But the silence and rigid stance told him all he needed to know. He was right. Relaxing a little, he attempted to lighten the mood, “You’ll have to introduce me”.

“Fuck off MacTavish”.

Soap couldn’t see it but there was a hint of a smile curling Simon’s lips.

��———

End flashback

————

Delicate. Like lace. Simon closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of your fingertips lazily grazing over the tattoo covering his left arm. You traced the skulls, letting your nails skim over the outlines. They were a part of him, as much as you were. His skin shivered when you stroked a sensitive spot near his shoulder. There was an ugly welt residing there. An old gunshot wound from Siberia.

“‘Bout 6 or 7 years ago”, his voice, thick and heavy like whisky, ran smooth down your spine, “Got pinned by a sniper—bastard—a lucky bastard mind you”.

He was so nonchalant about these things. Like it didn’t matter. Just another day to add amongst all the others. But to you, every scar and mark made your stomach knot. The thought of him hurting shattered you.

His thick fingers kneaded the base of your neck as you rested on his chest, ironing out the kinks hidden there. You let out an appreciative hum.

“Si…”.

“I know, just lemme yeah?”.

Simon knew you’d wanted to shower him with affection but he couldn’t resist putting his hands on you. How could he not? Without warning, he rolled you under him, resting his weight on his tattooed forearm besides your head. Your legs splayed open without thought, allowing him to slot between them.

You were so soft, so beautiful, so perfect. Splayed underneath him, like an angel of innocence. Wild hair framing your head like a halo against his pillow. But he, he was rough. His edges were sharp and nasty, cutting deep to the bone. He was nothing like you. He’d been tainted by the ugliness in the world, torn down and broken up. And you were like the first blossom of spring.

Your hand reached up to cup his face, pulling him from his thoughts. You must have sensed he was dwelling somewhere he shouldn’t.

“Simon”.

He bent down and captured your lips in a demanding kiss. It was harder than he intended but full of emotion. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Granting it, you sighed happily into his mouth, your hands snaking around his neck, pulling him down so he was pressed against you.

Simon let his tongue run along yours, tasting you. A light hint of peppermint. He groaned into the kiss, letting his hand smooth down to the apex of your thighs.

You gasped when his calloused fingers found your clit, stroking over it with just enough pressure to have your thighs quiver around him. Fuck. He loved watching you fall apart. He needed you so badly. He wanted to drown in you.

Tearing himself from your lips, he planted hot, wet, opened mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone, humming words of affection into your skin as his fingers continued their lazy pace.

“Si…fuck..oh”, you whimpered and your hips bucked on their own accord.

“Need you—”

“Me too love, fuck—”.

He’d never known anything like it. He was desperate for you, throbbing against the flesh of your thigh.

Sliding into you with a practised ease, Simon swore under his breath, you mewled, body arching to his. Your soaked core stretching deliciously around him.

The feeling never faded, only intensifying every time. Your legs wrapped around his, tangling together as he drove into you over and over. 

Linking his fingers with yours, he pushed your hand above your head, holding it firmly as he thrust deeper. Your breath caught, heart racing wildly in your chest, hammering next to his.

“You feel so good—”.

“Si…I-I—”.

“Let go love”, he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to the dip of your throat, “I—fuck, I’m right there with you”, his words stumbled together, pleasure pulsing through his veins.

The high hit you hard, climax tearing through you like a white hot flash. It buzzed along your skin as you sobbed his name. Simon followed, feeling his body become lighter, his mind hazy with nothing but bliss.

Soaking in the afterglow, Simon pressed his forehead between the valley of your breasts, sighing contently. He didn’t want to press for too long, aware of his heavy bulk crushing your tiny frame.

Rolling to the side, Simon laid out on his back, dragging your body onto his chest, blunt fingernails scraping down your back, resting on the dip of your ass. His eyes were closed but he knew you were staring at him, he could feel the burn of your gaze.

“I’ve missed you”.

The confession felt better in the open. You wanted him to know you thought about him, always. Never questioning where your loyalty lay. It would always be him.

You saw Simon’s lip quirk up at the corner, the scar there only adding perfect detail to his handsome face.

“Oh yeah?”, the playful mock hung heavy on his northern accent.

You ignored the teasing tone, knowing it was a deflective measure. Simon struggled to accept he deserved love, affection - let alone someone actually missing him.

“Mhmm”, you hummed and leaned down, kissing his lips softly, “I always do”.

He swore his heart skipped a beat. He wondered if you noticed, pressed up against his bare chest. Keeping his eyes closed, he nodded into the pillow.

“I missed you too”.

Your lips curved up and Simon could feel your smile burn through his eyelids. He didn’t even have to look to know the words had lit you up.

——

He was going to miss this. Everything. The softness of your skin. How your body laid next to his during the night, instinctively curling into him, his large arm laying heavy around your waist. The vanilla scent of your shampoo which always lingered on his hoodie. He’d never complain, he carried it with him for as long as he could, drifting back to you whenever he could. Simon tilted his head, glancing down at your beautiful face. He looked at you reverently, words escaping before he could force them back down, “Make me stay, love”.

He desperately wished he didn’t have to go back, wanting to stay here with you, wrapped up in thick cosy blankets and silken pillows, watching the world pass by.

Leaning up to him, you ran your soft fingertips over his lips, “I wish I could”, you sighed gently, “But I know you’re needed, it’s your job..I can wait, I’m not going anywhere”.

Tilting his face into your palms, Simon swallowed thickly, wishing to sink into your heavenly touches, “Love—I—”.

“Stop”, you pressed your forehead to his, noses brushing together delicately, “I know, Si—please don’t apologise, you don’t need to”.

“I do…I should be here with you”.

“Please stop”, you kissed him tenderly, lips melded to his, “I meant what I said, it’s ok—I understand, I always have”.

He let out a deep sigh, “You’re too good for me”.

“Complete bullshit”.

Simon laughed, the sound deep and husky. It wasn’t often he heard you swear. He was becoming a bad influence, his northern ways imprinting upon you. Your eyes sparkled when you giggled with him, the sound caressing his ears. He stared at you, just absorbing. Wishing to take the mental image with him on his next deployment.  

He bent forward, nudging his nose along yours, “I love—”.

Before he could finish the sentence, you’d pressed your lips to his hurriedly drinking up the confession you’d so desperately wanted to hear. You’d take those words and carry them with you, always.

————

[sometimeslapine]

[…Store-Bought Is Fine]

(the part two to the previous story! things get a bit more intimate...)

Shutting the door, locking the door, testing the door.

Satisfied, she slung the car keys back on their wall-mounted hook, and loudly announced her arrival home to nobody in particular. It was almost midnight.

She knew her roommate was out for the weekend, off to some convention thing. She knew she still had the house to herself for at least a few more days, but it never hurt to check. A little peace of mind goes a long way, especially given the whole… y'know. She was pretty sure that they were pretty sure that they knew the nonsense stuff she was into, but, still.

She looked down at the brown bag of oddities picked up about an hour earlier. She's really going to go through with this, huh. It almost felt anticlimactic, in a weird way? She'd mentally ran through this scenario about a dozen times on the drive home, almost burning the novelty of the situation out. Still, though…

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

The clock finally struck twelve, and she set to work, full of eager energy. She'd always been a bit of a night owl (partial consequence of her hobbies), so it wasn't long before most of the kitchen was an absolute mess. It's the saffron, you see. A nightmare to refine when all you've got is the kind of second-hand electric stove a a certain landlord would "so graciously" provide with the place. A few dozen croquaenen stigmas removed, drying out as best they can over the low heat of a burner.

Several of the other reagents had been prepped by the time she was starting to grind up the would-be saffron in a mortar. Most of it was ready-to-use from the get go. Wasn't a lot to extracting the lavender oil, normally, but the need for a dry environment limited her options a bit. No boiling water, no steam allowed tonight. Still, she managed.

One in the A.M. finally landed, and she was prepping the space in her bedroom. The new moon tonight gave no ambient light to work off of, but old habits and comforts kept her craft project close to an uncurtained window, regardless. Small heat-resistant tarp laid out, sigil carefully drawn with the saff powder, lavender oil spread thinly around the perimeter, incense lit to set the mood, gemstones and the elemental charm each placed at a focal point in the design, and, uh,

…Hm,

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she held the unlabeled bottle of that ficus sap stuff in her hand, gently rocking it back and forth in contemplation, feeling the viscous weight slowly shift its center of gravity, watching it coat the inside walls. She honestly had no idea what to do with the this stuff. Not for consumption, obviously, but uh. Damn. Really regretting not asking for clarification now.

Well, she was nothing if not one to improvise.

Running back to the kitchen to grab a small cup, she dipped the air charm in by its band and spilled enough of the latexy sap in to completely coat the thing. That's basically what balloons are on a technical level, right? A latex coating encasing air? Or the representation of air, anyway. That makes sense conceptually, right?? Yeah. What's the worst that could happen.

She carefully laid the encased charm back down on the decorated tarp, its position on the sigil representative of one's body. For good measure, she gave the same treatment to several of the gemstones, carefully removing them all from the mixture with a small pair of tongs. Another moment to dry, then back into their place they go. Again, why not.

She had herself a mostly-complete alchemy circle. As a final precaution, she opened the bedroom window to that moonless sky (cautiously, only giving about 12 or so inches of an opening), aiming her tower fan to cycle air out. She didn't know how much smoke this thing was about to put off, and the last thing she needed was the fire alarm flipping this late at night.

A pause, to admire her handiwork. A photo taken, to document this setup in the off-chance it worked. Just one final reagent to go, and a comparatively big one at that.

She brought a section of the lavender oil to ignition with the still-burning incense, and carefully stepped onto the tarp, into the circle.

There was a blinding flash. The full span of the ring was now quickly ablaze with a low, luminous indigo flame. It was silent, bringing a radiance that almost felt cold. She felt a tingling sensation shoot up her spine; Either an effect of the ritual doing its work, or the nervousness of the situation as a whole. Playing with fire indoors was always a bit of a hazard, but she'd rather not risk doing this particular one outside, not with her fear of heights. Last thing she needed was an open sky without a safety harness.

That tingling eventually spread out across the rest of her body, slowly at first, and then rapidly down her limbs, with an intense heat that felt completely foreign to her. It wasn't the flames, but something more… internal? The closest association her brain could make was someone very gently running a lint roller across every square inch of her body. Weird, gentle prickling sensations, a light tug upwards as if some phantom adherence was being removed. Under any other situation, she'd have kicked back to enjoy the sensory show, but this was nothing but terse apprehension, a feeling that felt like it was going to drag on for eternity.

And then it stopped, just as quickly. The flames sputtered to an emberless ash, leaving a sweet honeyed scent throughout the now-darkened room. She collapsed on the floor, exhausted, panic finally over. Wow, did she ever feel light-headed. Probably should've had something to eat before this.

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

She laid there on her back for quite some time, hazy attention focusing in and out on the ceiling. Slowly coming-to again, she braced herself for the fire alarm to kick off screaming. The window precaution seems to have done the trick in evacuating the smoke, at least. That's good. That's… good. Wow, did she ever feel light… ah… …light-everything? What… what the fuck.

Was that a sign it worked?

She lifted a hand upwards above her, as best as she could. It felt like her strength was sapped. She- "Holy shit." Involuntarily spoken. She could almost see right through it though, if she looked hard enough. "Holy shit. What the fuck." Propping herself up against the side of her bed, she pulled off her shirt as quickly as she could manage, pausing to lament the smudged ashen marks the sigil left on the backside. It was faint looking down, but sure enough, she saw the carpet underneath, no, directly /through/ her own chest. "Holy shit." It was literally all she could manage, rendered otherwise speechless.

She placed a hand against her belly, and gave a hesitant push. It squished down in, far more than it had any right to, before springing right back up when her pressure relented. "I- I'm a balloon. Rubber. I'm- This is- I- h-hah," before fully giving way to excited laughter. The absurdity of it all hit like a truck.

A beat passed, her taking time to fully come to terms with the changes that had taken place. Right. She did this to herself, intentionally, with purpose. There was only one thing on her mind.

She scrambled across the floor to her closet (as best she could, given the lack of any actual internals that would've helped with that,) and- "Where the /fuck/ is that air compressor." …and unburied the thing she kept hidden but never had a chance to use, covered in dust as it was.

It was by no means powerful, but it moved air around, into things, and that's all she cared about in the moment.

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

Plugged in, Powered on, Airflow tested.

With her clothes now fully removed, she did her best to prop herself up against the bedroom wall, naked and reaching (blindly fumbling) around behind her. The still-running hose went it with no resistance at all, and she immediately felt a pressure begin to build around her pelvis before dispersing upwards. Everything quickly felt tight. There was a bubbly tingle. A slight belly bump made itself known, and she stared at it in amazement as she watched the rise and fall of her shallow breaths become more of a rise and rise, and rise, and rise.

The feeling, the experience left her even weaker in that moment. She slid back down to a seated position, grabbing at her own tummy, cradling it as it rounded out to something akin to a basketball, waistline slowly gaining an inch or two every minute, puffing out onto her lap. God, this felt fucking incredible. It was greater, unlike anything she could've imagined (and that imagination certainly wasn't devoid of attempts). The pressure buildup, the restricted movement, the taboo nonsense feeling of it all. It was like getting a really good stretch in that just kept going and going. The bonus vibrations she got from the air compressor's magnet-driven motor traveling through the hose certainly didn't help her feel in any way Normal about it.

it was a few minutes of bliss before a hit of clarity successfully broke through the obsession. she needed room to grow, and the corner of her room wouldn't be viable for long. get up. she should move to the bed, if she could manage.

Right. Okay. She attempted to stand. It was a little easier this time, the pressure keeping her body a bit more taut, less prone to collapse (is this what a pooltoy feels like?) but the vibrational waves of that motor reverberating through her core still kept her weak. It was all so much to feel. She almost looked like she'd swallowed a beachball at this point, and her sides were starting to round out just as much as her front was. Hell, she couldn't even see over the rising dome of her belly anymore.

Moving to the bed, she…

…

Well, She tried to, anyway. She practically fell face-and-tummy first onto the floor with a slight rebounding bounce, coming to a stop on all fours; A clumsy combination of the ever-shifting balance point, and a rough reminder that the hose kept her on a short leash about five feet long.

Y'know what, the floor was fine. She didn't care. She really could not care about anything else. She was suddenly in the perfect position to feel everything, every sensation, straddled over her own ballooning body, feeling the high-pile carpet gently brush across the increasing surface area of her expanding frontside, while her overall weight (or whatever fraction remained of it, this hollow) squished downwards, stretching and distorting her tummy outwards to the sides as much as it did the front.

With some hesitancy, she took the weight distribution off her palms, seeing just how well she could remain in this position without the added support. The shift in balance and the new restriction in room to grow gave a subtle redirection in airflow. A pressure in her chest built up, and she gave a questioning squeeze around her front-right. A squeak vocalized at the unexpected sensitivity, but she confirmed it, face reddening as expanding titflesh slowly billowed out around her grip. It was the first noise she'd made in a while, having been enjoying the experience in silent bliss. Boobs too, huh? God, what a fucking experience.

Minutes passed with the hum of the motor still whirring away in its duty, steadily blowing the girl rounder and rounder, pressure increasing bit by bit. Completely content, she thought back on that squeak she made; Embarrassing as it was, it was the kind of noise you'd expect from a balloon, and she held on to that thought almost in pride, nuzzling her face down in the unexpected cleavage she'd gained. She was more balloon then girl at this point after all, and balloons are meant to get round and squeaky. Balloons are designed for this. It's completely normal for a blimp to want these things, she reasoned with herself. Thi-

Train of thought cut short, her whole world suddenly flipped forward. Sheer size alone had outgrown her ability to retain traction, and her legs were now kicking skyward, hose and all in full display. Only thing that stopped her ending up face-first against the carpet as she tilted forward was her airbag of a chest.

Well, things were… a little more awkward, now.

Attempts at repositioning were challenging; It was a bit of trouble moving her arms around with all the boob in the way, but there was just this… odd resistance, on top of everything else? It's… stiff. Everything felt stiff.

Ah.

She slowly, hesitantly, relaxed as much as she could, taking note of how her arms now found natural resting positions straight out to the sides. They were tough to bend elsewise, and that stiffness was slowly giving way to a new, even-more-foreign feeling of pressure, like nervous butterflies flooding every cubic inch. The feeling was mirrored along her hips, down her legs. She didn't feel at-capacity yet, but the air was already searching for new places to go.

This… wasn't anticipated. Everything gently started to puff ever-so-noticeably rounder, and she was losing mobility fast. She tried to fight it, flailing a bit, trying to shift in any direction, but it only served as a reminder of how sensitive everything was, blown out like this. The air compressor was far too out of reach in this position, and she'd completely lost the mobility needed to pull the hose out. Alright. Fuck. stay calm. take stock of the situation. Okay. Yeah.

She was still mostly center-of-the-room, halfway between the closet and the bed, safe from the danger of pushing into anything sharp, but she really had no idea just how much give she had left in her. The pressure kept increasing in step with her size, and the square footage of this bedroom wasn't ever much to write home about. She could still feel the light reverberations from the compressor's motor, vibrations increasing in intensity, a whine crying out from the little device as it tried to fight PSI it almost definitely wasn't rated for.

Well, that's a potential solution, if she could manage that long. Outlast the motor. Hope it burns itself out. Prooooobably doable. And if she couldn't…

The threat of popping loomed overhead. Jeez… Hell of a way to go. She always knew she'd be done by one of her own spells, but it being something as dumb and air-headed as attempting to live out kink nonsense surprisingly wasn't high up on her list. It just.. didn't really seem all that dignified, to be honest. Hell, just thinking about how silly she looked, all blown up like some parade float mockery of herself, sensitive squeaking with every move, so round, so shiny, so huge, so very fucking huge, and tight, and full and stretching so thin you could see right through her, only moments away from total release like any good party blimp lovingly pushed to its limit and ready to explode, and god why was she so into this, this isn't helping her case, agh, focus, focus,

She was well past the point where internal pressure beat out features. Arms and legs swelling out comically conical, the valley dividing belly and underboob beginning to taper outwards, even her face felt a little bloated. She was over minutes away from being blown full-body spherical, and all she could do was ride it out. The pressure began to peak. Ah. This is it, then.

Closing her eyes, she waited.

Slow, calm breaths, trying to avoid adding any more tension to the body.

She waited, in intense anticipation.

★ ★ ★ ☾ ★

…Thirty seconds moved by without fanfare.

She… didn't feel any tighter? She was still really fucking tight, but… she didn't seem to be growing. The pump's still flowing, she can certainly feel that much, but the pressure wasn't increasing. Where's the bang.

Why was she almost disappointed…?

It was as if the compressor just couldn't move air anymore. Either that, or she sprung a leak somewhere. Airflow had normalized. She wasn't getting any bigger, but she wasn't getting any smaller, either.

She was just kinda… stuck like this. At least eight feet around, way too blown taut to do anything about the situation, almost completely unable to move (save for a slight rocking back and forth), and thanks to the motor of that hose gently buzzing away in a process she could still one-hundred-percent feel, she'd be stuck here for the foreseeable future, thoughts all but scrambled, with what amounted to a vibrator stuck between her legs. It still felt amazing, but, jeez, what a fucking scenario to be in. Her only possible release was still out at a con for the next few days, completely unaware they'd be coming home to a weather blimp for a roommate. (how on earth is she even going to explain this one.)

But, time still moved forward. She tried to let herself enjoy what she could of the situation. Occasional hushed moans broke through the silence of the night, intermingling with the white noise of the motor working diligently to ensure she'd always be topped off, like any good balloon should be.

…god. this was looking set to be a very, very long weekend.

[diamondwerewolf]

okay, i think i have enough thoughts gathered that i can offer one headcanon on AZ for now. I don't think it'll have to be changed if he's in the new game.

With a bunch of conjecture from his canonical decisions,

I wager

AZ could be effortlessly romantic.

Romantic... without consciously intending to be.

This folds into another HC, about his 'love language' being one of acts of service. He seems willing to put himself through intense inconveniences, pain even, for things he cares about. He has all the time in the world to go out of his way for someone. But in the same breath, he doesn't have much time at all. He knows he'll outlive anyone he makes a strong connection with. So if he allows himself to fall in love, he's going to savor all the time he has.

I'll fill in what's going on with him and my character, Beautician Kissmira before I continue on: This takes place sometime after being reunited with Eternal Floette. His heart is open, so he has to rediscover who he is, or what he'd like to be now that a 3,000 year search is over. The King of Kalos, to the thousand year wanderer, to...now what?

AZ and Kiss met by chance while he was passing through Lumiose streets. She was stunned by the absurd length of his hair, and how it was in need of major damage control. She bullied him into a washing booth, and after pleasant conversation, they were friends. Kiss, unfazed by AZ appearance, regularly invited him to visit with her in her private salon, on walks, to sit at cafes, or even up above the shop into her home. Their relationship became more gravitational over three years of...well, mutual pining. Only when AZ gets nervous or dreads the weight of his feelings, he runs off for long periods of time. AZ fails to resist not visiting his 'friend', making excuses to see her, and excuses to leave again in a terrible cycle. When AZ is finally confronted by Kiss for his sudden disappearances, she firmly revokes his ability to run off, telling him that wherever he's going, he absolutely has to take her with him. She's had enough of celebrities and the chaos of the city, anyway. She wants to retire, see what's out in the natural world, and feel inspired again. Kiss is a proper woman, though, perhaps even a little high maintenance. Travel by foot over vast land, dirt, grime, fierce pokemon, cuts, and bruises, are not something she's accustomed to.

...

So, without her needing to say anything, he's mindful of her comfort. AZ will lay out a tarp in a muddy camping spot, so she doesn't have to get her feet dirty. He'll boil water before she wakes, just so whatever skin products she's dragged along can properly activate. If she mutters to herself about something aching, he'll go out and find some medicinal roots. He'll pick the best spot to camp on the mountainside, tidy around the fire, just so that she can get a breathtaking view of the sunrise while she eats breakfast. He'll surprise her, with a field of flowers of all of her favorite colors. The colors she never told him were her favorite.

The way he speaks to her... He's being himself, but his olden way of talking is akin to poetry in a love letter. It's not dear, or babe, or darling, it's beloved, treasure, celestina.

I can go on, but I think we get the point.

AZ with actual intent to court, not just typical roostering is a post for another day...

[kathbunny]

A vague lil apocalypse au for RWD I'm gonna do a bit of for fun! This isn't my body horror/Eldtrich apocalypse from Discord, but it might get some elements of it if I decide it's fun.

This just establishes what everyone is up to!

Future parts will not be under the main two rwd tags like with my other writings to avoid flooding the tags!

CW: dead body, blood, injury

Kyana had made it to the top of the office building! Her cloth mask was starting to get uncomfortable from sweat and from panting, but she had still made it higher than she had on any other building. She felt pretty lucky to be finding one where the way up to the roof was so intact.

There was also quite a bit on the roof. Primarily, what looked to be a wrecked homemade water filtration system with a skeleton half hung over it, surrounded by planter boxes with already dead plants. Creepy! Kyana deemed to just walk quickly to the other side of the roof.

The sun was almost all the way down, and soon the sickly colored sky would become that beautiful dark blue and be full of more stars than she could ever count.

-

VR-LA stumbled across the sands, doing his best to rip the fabric of his scarf to make bandages without stopping. He frantically wrapped the wound on his chest with it, his heartbeat in his ears as he saw how much blood he had already lost. Once it dried, his shirt would be stuck to his skin, likely his pants too.

He stumbled slightly, vision blurring and making his almost lose hold of his attempted wrappings. He kept trying and kept moving, even as he tripped or felt his head start to pound with pain.

-

Dani dragged her tool box off the shelf, awkwardly adjusting her gloves as she tucked it under her arm. Her boots thunked against the concrete ground of Oto's definitely-not-stolen bunker as she walked to the exit, forcing the doors to open despite the rust as she went to fix the old rain water collection system yet again.

It was oddly cold, despite how bright the sun seemed in the pale blueish green of the sky. It almost tempted Dani back into the bunker to retrieve her coat, but she resisted as she thought about the lecture it'd surely get her for opening and closing the door so much. She walked through the sand towards their rain collectors, immediately recognizing the problem the second she was facing them.

There was a man face flat in a fallen barrel, actively bleeding, and also a lot of sand in the tarps. The sand would be very annoying when she got to it later.

-

Finbar finished braiding Elyse's hair, opening his mouth to tell her only to stop as he realized she had fallen asleep against him, her bowl still in her lap. He gently took the bowl from her, setting it down by the fire and taking her into his arms. Coriander followed after them, ignoring the bowl despite the food scraps.

He brought her to their tent, placing her within on her sleeping bag. He slowly removed her boots so they wouldn't make her uncomfortable, and then removed her jacket so the zipper wouldn't press into her skin when she inevitably rolled onto her stomach as she slept. He unzipped the sleeping bag to put her inside carefully, zipping it back in.

Coriander sat next to her, as vigilant of a guard as any good girl could be. Finbar gave her a few pats, leaving her in the tent with Elyse to go clean their campsite before he joined them.

-

Vhas wadded through the river slowly, trying not to disturb the fish too much as he got slowly closer to where a few were eating, a smirk on his face. He stood still once he was close enough, letting the majority that had darted away in response start to return.

He had his eyes on the biggest fish, knowing all the meals it'd give him and all the useful bones it had. He readied his hands, watching as it slowly returned to resume eating. He waited longer after that, letting himself become just another weird thing in the water to the fish.

And he grabbed the fish! It trashed, but Vhas thinks he got a pretty good hold on- and it immediately slipped out of his hands. Vhas frantically tried to grab it again, accidentally smacking it back up into the air. During its second attempt at returning from the air to the water, it lands on Vhas's face, sending him falling backwards and it back into the river to dart away to safety.

[ragsy]

"Seven Flames" | ~500 words

Something quick and rough I wrote to recontextualize an old dnd character into a new setting. Also this is somehow the first thing I've ever actually written for Arji in the seven years I've been playing him?

Read under the cut 👇

1. The Hearth

It warmed the house, his back, his mother's face, as she balanced him on her knee. Bright yellow eyes watched her in rapt attention, drinking in her tales of the sea: stories of krakens, pirates, typhoons, and sirens, all come to life under the dancing amber glow of the fireplace.

His father would call the whole thing a waste of time. Stories like those turn hard workers into wistful layabouts. But, until spring, while the sheet ice locked his mother's adventuring soul inland, Arjibi could taste a world beyond his family's little farm.

2. The Spark

At the age when his siblings learned to bellow flames from their jaws, his fire arrived with delicate fingers and sparkling eyes. The magic of dragons is not to be trifled with, but, in the body of a child born to barren root cellars and empty coffers, the power to light a candle with the flourish of a hand is nothing short of a miracle.

3. The Campfire

That twinkling beacon calling to him through the woods— how could he resist? There were eight other siblings in the house, no one would notice if just one slipped out at night.

The bardic caravan and its drivers, their plucky strings and merry bells, offered him a seat by their fire and a belly full of stew.

"How can I pay you back?" he asked.

"With a song," they replied.

"But I don't know any," said Arjibi.

"Then let us teach you," said the bards.

4. The Housefire

It wasn't his fault. Accidents happen.

There was a wealthy family in the next town over, looking for dinner entertainment. The sack of gold promised to him at the end of the night would help rebuild the farm.

He couldn't afford to have any more mistakes in his routine. He would do everything right this time.

But, again.

Accidents happen.

5. The Torch

Great things begin in humble places. Every grand adventurer gets their start crawling around abandoned mines, slaying giant rats with a handful of complete strangers. The torch clutched in his fist cast a spluttering light over the prophecy carved in the walls.

His companions would, eventually escape their fate.

Only gods would know if he could be so lucky.

6. The Oil Lamp

Late nights in Grengear's study were often underscored by the scribbling of his quill and the patter of autumn rain on the windows. Stacks of schematics, his latest inventions, breathlessly explained to a fascinated audience of one. A secret project, obscured under a tarp, to be revealed when Arjibi returned from his upcoming mission.

He wished he'd peeked. Just once.

7. The Candle

Even under the harsh electric lighting and the stench of cleaning chemicals, the little pillar of wax and wick still glowed like he remembered.

Even under new gods, there would always be fire.

[ghostflowerdreams]

The Many Uses of Petroleum Jelly

Petroleum jelly (Vaseline) has several practical uses in survival situations, particularly in an apocalypse, camping, or wilderness setting. Here are some of the most notable applications:

Fire Starter → Petroleum jelly is an effective fire starter that requires only two ingredients: petroleum jelly and cotton balls. Use any brand of petroleum jelly as long as it's 100% pure. For the cotton balls, ensure they’re 100% cotton, as synthetic fibers won’t ignite easily. Coat the cotton ball generously with petroleum jelly, but avoid completely saturating it. It’s important to leave some dry fibers in the center to catch the spark, especially when using a firesteel or magnesium rod.

These fire starters burn for around four minutes, though the duration may vary based on how much petroleum jelly is used. Since petroleum jelly is oil-based, they are both wind and water-resistant, making them reliable in various weather conditions. To use, pull apart the cotton ball to expose the dry fibers, strike a spark onto them, and voilà—you have a flame. Place it among your kindling to help the fire catch and build up quickly.

The Boy Scouts Handbook mentions this method as a safe and effective fire-starting tool. Campfire Ceremonies | Troop Program Resources [PDF]

According to the same handbook, you can even use this technique to create torches or flaming arrows by applying the petroleum jelly-coated cotton balls strategically​.

Emergency Candle → By filling a small container with petroleum jelly and inserting a wick (like a piece of string or cotton), you can create a makeshift candle. This can provide light and some warmth in emergency situations.

Modern Survival - Using Petroleum Jelly for Survival [Video]

Skin Protection and Healing → Petroleum jelly can act as an effective barrier against wind and cold, helping to protect the skin from chapping and frostbite.

While it is not a substitute for professional medical care, applying a thin layer of petroleum jelly over minor cuts and scrapes can keep dirt out and create a conducive environment for healing. It prevents the wound from drying out and forming a scab; wounds with scabs take longer to heal. This will also help prevent a scar from getting too large, deep, or itchy. As long as the wound is cleaned daily, it is not necessary to use anti-bacterial ointments. As a result, this technique can minimize scarring and accelerate the healing process.

For further details, you can explore these sources:

WebMD - Petroleum Jelly: Health Benefits and Uses

Healthline - Everything You Need to Know About Petroleum Jelly

UCI Health - Home wound care do’s and don’ts

American Academy of Dermatology Association - Proper wound care: How to minimize a scar

National Library of Medicine - Simple Effective Ways to Care for Skin Wounds and Incisions [Beware: photos and videos involving real-life, traumatic injuries]

Hartford HealthCare - Care for a Skin Wound

The Prepper Journal - What You Should Have in Your Ultimate Survival First Aid Kit

Waterproofing → If waterproof dressings, plastic wrap, shower shields, plastic gloves, or other waterproofing options are unavailable, petroleum jelly can be applied over a clean bandage (especially around the edges) to create a simple waterproof barrier. This helps keep the wound dry in wet conditions. This works particularly well for short-term exposure to water, such as during a shower.

Applying petroleum jelly to seams or openings in tents, tarps, backpacks, or other gear can also help create a waterproof seal, which is crucial for staying dry in wet conditions​. This temporary water resistance can even help protect leather items like boots and bags for a short period.

However, while it may serve as a quick fix, there are some downsides. Petroleum jelly can clog the pores of leather, which affects its breathability and, over time, may lead to damage such as cracking or discoloration, especially on lighter-colored leather. It’s also prone to leaving a greasy residue that attracts dust and dirt, compromising the look and feel of the item. Nonetheless, in a survival situation, you make do with what you have.

Scientific American - Ultimate Guide: Keeping Bandages Dry In The Shower For Optimal Wound Care

Chafing Prevention → It can be applied to areas prone to chafing (like thighs or underarms) to reduce friction during physical activities, which is especially useful during long treks or strenuous efforts.

Preventing Foot Blisters → Before long hikes, applying petroleum jelly to feet can reduce friction and help prevent blisters from forming. This is particularly useful when wearing new or stiff footwear.

Protection Against Irritants → Petroleum jelly can be applied to exposed skin as a protective layer against irritants like poison ivy and other skin allergens. This barrier helps reduce the likelihood of an allergic reaction by preventing allergens from penetrating the skin. However, it is important to remember that while petroleum jelly can minimize skin exposure, it is not a foolproof solution.

Soothe Insect Bites → Applying petroleum jelly to insect bites can help provide a protective layer that reduces scratching and allows the skin to heal. However, it is essential to clean the area thoroughly before application to avoid trapping bacteria and dirt, which could increase the risk of infection, especially if the skin is broken or if the bite has been scratched. Proper hygiene helps ensure that the petroleum jelly serves its purpose effectively without exacerbating any issues.

Lubrication → Petroleum jelly can be used to protect carbon steel tools from rust. It forms a moisture-resistant barrier when applied in a thin layer, making it ideal for long-term storage. This method works well for items like hinges, locks, zippers, bicycle chains, and other mechanisms that can seize up in harsh conditions.

Additionally, petroleum jelly can offer temporary relief for external hemorrhoids. Acting as a lubricant, it reduces friction and irritation in the anal area. Applying a small amount after cleaning and drying the skin can help soothe discomfort, itching, and soreness while keeping the skin moisturized, preventing further irritation during movement or bowel movements. However, petroleum jelly is not a cure; it’s mainly used for temporary relief.

House Digest - Genius Tricks To Prevent Metal From Rusting

BladesPro US - Sword Maintenance and Care

HemRid - Does Vaseline Help Hemorrhoids or Make It Worse?

Saint Luke's - Treating Hemorrhoids: Self-Care

Cleanser → If water is scarce, you can use petroleum jelly to clean your hands. Apply a small amount, rub it in, and wipe off with a cloth or paper towel to remove dirt and grease.

Petroleum jelly can also be used for shaving without water. It helps the razor glide smoothly, reducing irritation and razor burn, especially for sensitive skin. Apply it to your skin, shave, and wipe clean with a towel. While coconut oil or shea butter are preferable alternatives, petroleum jelly works in a pinch if no other options are available.

Just keep in mind that it may clog razors due to its thick consistency, making cleanup more difficult.

Happy Preppers - Surprising Survival uses of Vaseline

[ask-experiment-1006-theprototype]

{{A list of experiments done to Experiment 1006. AKA, the Prototype.}}

[Each experiment shown here was for the benefit of newer experiments and to demonstrate what conditions entities like him and toys can withstand. How much they can withstand and how they handle being in conditions a toy could end up in. Some were repeated to ensure proper results. The subject MUST be carefully monitored after each test. Especially after 5 and 3.]

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||------

Tests shown to test the abilities of Experiment 1006.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||-------

[: Before upgrades 1-L, 1-A, 2-A, and 2-L. -Current upgrades in each test listed.- [-Sensors. Nostril installation. Ventilation. Arm reinforcement. Hand adjustments. Torso reinforcement. Leg reinforcement.-] [: Current version of 1006, 1.2. :] Head doctor: Doctor Harley Sawyer. Assisted by trainee and doctor, Doctor Nathan Lenard.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Experiment test 1: Closed spaces.

Test description: The subject is inserted into four different enclosed spaces. A room. A closet. A cabinet. And a locker.

Test results: Subject managed each space with relative ease. Upon the last room, the smallest, he showed great discomfort and nearly got permanently stuck in the locker. But managed to eventually get out. Subject spoke about escalated joint pain. We've noted this as a side effect of his current condition, his stabilization and joint issues are less but still present.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Experiment test 2: Temperatures.

Test description: The subject is placed in two different rooms that can adjust their temperatures. One cold. One heat. Subject is brought into each room and exposed to different levels of cold and heat. Minor and extreme.

Test results: Subject adjusted to each temperature exchange. Noticeable complications came from the extreme temperatures once they reached -0 or over 100. Subject was able to handle cold better than the heat. Though noticeably sluggishly so. Subject laid motionless at maximum extreme temperature exchange. Fluids, cooling, heating, and warming techniques were later applied. Subject displayed noticeable appreciation for the ac or heater and stayed near both when overheating or frozen as suspected he would.

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Experiment test 3: Flammable.

Test Description: Subject is to be put in a controlled environment to test how fire resistant an entity like him is.

Test results: Subject avoided any flames that went near him. No notable damage has been done when flames made contact except for minor scorch marks that were able to be cleaned off with the care provided for the subject afterwards. Subject had to be held down for the flame to touch. It touched for 0.4 seconds before the subject broke free, the straps catching on fire after the subject fled from the flame. Subject showed distain towards the science crew after the test. One month passed before he calmed.

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Experiment test 4: Freezing.

Test description: Subject is to be put in a controlled environment to test how entities like him are effected by bellow 0 temperatures.

Test results: Subject notably tried to stay near the wall for warmth. Subject also tried to climb out of the room by scratching at the window. Later the subject simply laid down and curled up for warmth. His movements were sluggish, but seemed to handle it better than the fire. The test had to be stopped due to the subject not responding. Subject currently has four tarps as blankets, two were originally assigned but staff insisted on two more. Subject fully recovered two weeks later.

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Experiment test 5: Charges.

Test description: Subject is to experience different voltage of electricity to test how conductive and how much entities can withstand.

Test results: Subject expressed extreme discomfort at a high amount of voltage. Twice the amount a human can with stand when tasered. Subject seemed to experience pain with any amount of electricity. Subject experienced the side effects of being tased at double the voltage previously mentioned to cause discomfort. However subject did not cease any of his functionality, nor did he convulse. Instead the subject seemed to scream, or roar as it sounded, in pain instead. Subject actively avoided any tools used to cause the voltage that he recognized or noticed if not restrained. Subject began to react negatively towards the pain in the form of swatting at what caused him said pain. This has caused two employees to get badly scratched by 1006's claws. Subject claims that it was unintentional when questioned about it.

Side note: Perhaps a shock collar could help prevent lash outs through shocking conditioning, as electricity seems to be effective.

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Experiment test 6: Water logged.

Test description: Subject is to be exposed to water and submerged in deeper levels of water. This is to see if he will still be able to function properly when exposed to moisture and if so, how much he can handle and what his reaction to being in water will be.

Test results: Subject seemed to react to water sprayed on him with confusion. No negative side effects too effect. Subject observed the water and even tried drinking some of it when it poured from the ceiling to simulate rain. Subject seems to be water proof, perhaps due to the organic portions of his anatomy. More studying is needed to confirm. When subject is submerged in water, he sinks. He expressed confusion and struggled to properly swim up to the surface. Though still managed to. When kept under the water, subject expressed concern and began to react violently due to panic. Subject ended up breaking the binds once again and was allowed to go up to the surface. The subject expressed aggression towards the science team and notably stayed in the opposite side of his containment. Subject showed clear anger towards the science team when they went to the window. Two months passed before he started staying in his usual positions in his cell.

Side note: Perhaps this one should only be done once? -Nathan Side note: Multiple must be done to show proper results. -Harely.

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Experiment test 7: Climbing.

Test description: Subject is to be put in a specialized room where he has various climbing obstacles he must complete.

Test results: Subject showed the ability to be able to climb and to hold onto the bars on the ceiling. Subject seems to have difficulty with wanting to climb back down, or at least sometimes. It would appear the subject likes to be out of sight, this habit becoming more apparent after recent testing. Either that or the subject simply likes being able to see more from up above. Regardless, the subject shows surprising agility and maneuverability despite his complications with balance and joint pain.

Side note: Subject should have more positive reinforcement to help with moral. -Nathan.

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Experiment test 8: Speed and endurance.

Test description: Subject is to be put into a specialized room to test his speed and endurance through machinery and physical tests. This is to ensure his upgrades assisted in his previous complications and to expose any current on going ones.

Test results: Subject shows to have the endurance but lacks the ability to properly run for long periods of time. Though he can not run as fast as one would expect from an entity like him, he can make large strides to make up for it. It would seem his knees still present an issue, being unable to run for long periods of time without being in pain.

Side note: A cleaner inserting of the joints away from the knee tenant may remedy this.- Nathan.

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{[ More tests will be shown later on. ]}

[tarpswholesaler]

The Tarps Wholesaler Unveils Fire Retardant Tarps for Protection in Worksites

The Tarps Wholesaler unveils superior flame and fire retardant tarps to increase protection in worksites. Developed to fit perfect fire retardant standards, our fire resistant tarp could provide another layer of guard in applications where fire risk can exist, like in construction zones, industrial areas, and domestic renovation works.

[burnwater13]

Grogu and Din Djarin at their homestead on Nevarro, The Mandalorian, Season 3, Episode 8, The Return

Part 3 of Zombies? Did someone say Zombies

Din Djarin put his targeting scope up agains his visor and focused in on the shambling mass. It had started to turn up toward the cabin, but the uphill trajectory seemed to be slowing it down even more. That was good news. As was the fact that the ‘skin’ of the thing seemed to be a pretty large tarp. 

Would a zombie do that? Use something to hide itself from sight? He doubted it. But then what the hell did he know about zombies? He laughed at himself and began to adjust the scope so he could get a better view considering how dark it was, when he felt something grab his leg. Dank Farrik! 

Grogu coo’d and chirped at him and the Mandalorian resisted the urge to give his son the lecture of a lifetime. He told himself that he didn’t want to give their location away, but he was pretty sure all he’d say were things better left unsaid. 

He took a moment, sucked in a deep breath and sighed very, very slowly. 

“Grogu. I told you to stay put. Whatever that thing is, it’s not a zombie, okay? It’s probably just Fennec playing an elaborate trick on us.”  Uff. This thing was out of hand. 

Grogu shook his head. 

Din Djarin put a hand on his hip and gave his son ‘the look’. Grogu drooped like a flower that needed water. Dank Farrik! How did the kid manage to look so adorable when he was being such a pest? 

The Mandalorian relented. He carefully picked Grogu up and then handed him the scope to look through. Once he switched it around and pointed it in the correct direction he let Grogu actually look through it. It was about time they covered scopes in their lessons.

Grogu made some tiny adjustments and then coo’d a long, low sound that made the hairs on the back of the Mandalorian’s neck stand up. 

“Let me take a look.” Din spoke as he tried to take the scope from Grogu. Uff. The kid had an iron grip. 

“Okay, tell me what you see then.” 

The best bounty hunter in the Outer Rim and he couldn’t get his own son to hand back a scope. He’d think about what that meant when they were finished dealing with shambling hulks. 

Grogu began a long soft series of coo’s, chirps, whistles and clicks. Din listened patiently. By the end of lecture, he was pretty sure that he understood Grogu describing the critter under the tarp as having dozens of tiny feet. 

The Mandalorian had heard of a species of giant milipyropedes. They were like giant fire breathing salamanders with hundreds of tiny little tarsi that also burned the ground they walked on. Had someone found one on the lava flats and thrown a tarp over it? Why not just shoot it? Plus, those critters weren’t even native to Nevarro. Dank Farrik.

“Grogu, please hand me the scope. I need to take a look.” 

Grogu chirped and smiled and handed his dad the scope without an argument. 

Uff. 

The Mandalorian put the scope back up to his visor and realized quickly what a mistake that was. Grogu had smeared the lens with whatever he had on his hands. How the heck had the kid been able to even tell that the critter had feet? He put the scope away and decided to trust his gut. 

“Okay buddy. We’re going down there and we’re going to see just what sort of critter is there. Zombie or not, we’ve got to know before we can do anything. I may need you to use the Force on it. Do you think you can do that?”

Din Djarin had to immediately suppress the urge to laugh. Grogu was scowling at him as if he’d asked him if he still liked frog stew for lunch. The Mandalorian had instantly heard Grogu’s ‘Of course I do, Dad! What kind of crazy question was that?!’ and couldn’t help but find that funny.

“I know. You can. Come on.”

With Grogu tucked against his chest on the left side, leaving his right hand free if he needed his side arm, the Mandalorian began a slow, stealthy approach toward the shambling mass. Grogu seemed tense and ready to spring the ‘magic hand thing’ on whatever critter it really was until they both heard the sound. 

It was a strange, chittering sound. The Mandalorian had to admit he’d never heard anything quite like it. Because under the chittering there was the sound of metal scraping against bone. Was it some sort of half living thing, like that spider tank thing from Mandalore? The Armorer had said that the cyborg that operated it was killed off and that they hadn’t found any more of them. Dank Farrik!

“Okay buddy. See if you can just grab the thing that’s covering it. Maybe it can’t be exposed to starlight or something like that. On my mark.”

The Mandalorian worked his way around so he would be higher up the rise than the creature and gave Grogu the signal to remove the covering. 

Grogu had every right to be proud of how quickly he did what his dad asked him to do, the Mandalorian reflected. If anything was lacking int he execution it was Din Djarin forgetting to tell Grogu where to put the damn thing once he’d removed it from the creature! Grogu, being Grogu, had pulled the covering right to them. Now Din was fighting his way out of the thing while Grogu was still holding it in place.

“Buddy! Drop it. Just drop it!” 

Grogu giggled and did as his dad demanded. The Mandalorian looked at the creature that had gotten them out of the cabin in the middle of the night fully armed and began to laugh. 

The four Anzellans stopped in their tracks and had turned to face the two of them. The Mandalorian didn’t have to hear them to know they were complaining as they were begging him to keep ‘the bad baby’ away from them. Grogu, for his part, was trying to get out of Din’s hold so he could rush over to the small droid smiths and do exactly what they were afraid he would do. Hug them tight.

“Grogu, buddy, stop wiggling. What are you folk doing out this way?” Din asked the Anzellans as they had stopped talking.

“Delivery. Lady pay us. Make droids for you. Hollow. Bad baby. No touchy.”

What? 

Din walked over to the pile of stuff the Anzellans had left on the ground as they rushed to put a safe distance between themselves and Grogu. 

“Grogu, what do you think this is?”

Grogu’s focus on the Anzellans was finally broken and he turned his attention to the pile of stuff at the Mandalorian’s feet. He started giggling and pointing.

“Dank Farrik!” 

Clearly the lady in question was Fennec Shand. Din could make out that the Anzellans had made two ‘costumes’ for her little joke. One was a Mandalorian sized pit droid and the other looked like a miniature version of the Mandalorian’s armor. 

“Remember that time at Peli Motto’s when you were sick and you asked me to get you your toys, blanket, and the ball? Fennec said if I kept hopping up to get you things I’d turn into a pit droid? I guess she decided to follow up on that.”

Grogu began to giggle more and Din Djarin finally put him down so he could run over and examine the costumes. With Grogu occupied, the Mandalorian walked over to Anzellans with a request of his own. After a minute or two of haggling and a promise to bring the tarp back to their shop for them, the droid smiths promptly made their escape. They obviously didn’t trust Grogu to stay interested in the two costumes.

Din was just glad that the whole zombie thing was over. He didn’t want to know what it took to deal with a real zombie or even if there were real zombies. Knowing Fennec that had just been part of the elaborate joke.

Boba’s palace, Tatooine

“Administrator Shand? You have a delivery?” Major Domo brought Fennec a large box that was ornately decorated. 

“Is there a tag on it?” Fennec asked suspiciously. It wasn’t her naming day and she didn’t celebrate the anniversary of her birth, largely because she didn’t know it.

“No, Administrator Shand, there is not.” 

The Major Domo handed her the box and stepped smartly away.

“Well, Fennec, it looks like you have a secret admirer. Go ahead. Open it.” 

Daimyo Fett was enjoying how the arrival of this package was messing with her normal impervious nature. Normally she was unflappable. But right now, she was flapping and he found that very amusing. 

“Sure, Boss. An admirer. Those are always the people who send me things unexpectedly.” She poked at the box with a knife that came out of thin air.

“Fennec Shand, afraid of a box. Never thought I would see that day.” Boba Fett chuckled. 

“In your dreams. Boss.” Fennec replied and then quickly cut through the ribbon that secured the top of the box to its base.  Then she quickly yanked the top off and waited for something to happen. 

The room was silent in anticipation. 

Then Fennec began to laugh. She was loud and the laughter didn’t fade for at least a minute.

“What under the two suns are you cackling like a Dathomirian witch about?” Boba Fett groused at his second in command.

Fennec couldn’t explain it. She just pulled up the object from the box.

Boba Fett began to laugh. He had to wipe his eyes and then he had to turn away. He couldn’t stop laughing. He’d have to spend extra time in the bacta tank that night. 

“Hey! We’re gonna be twins! Boonta Eve won’t know what hit it!” Peli Motto called out as she stepped into the throne room and saw what Fennec was holding.

“Did Mando send that to ya? He said he was cookin’ up something special. That sure is it! I’ve always wanted a sister!” Peli continued.

Then Fennec did what she did best. She disappeared and they wondered if maybe she wasn’t actually a Dathomirian witch after all!

@marcus-is-my-muse Here it is, part 3

[photozoi]

Living in the Woods. In the summer we keep a fire break around the house, and I mow with a push mower so as to make sure not to just mow indiscriminately. Native, fire resistant plants are allowed to remain.

We are fighting several invasive plant species right now, and so the mowing is extended to keep them at bay while we figure out how to destroy them without destroying the habitats they are attacking. Ivy, Archangel, Shining Geranium, the Bedamned Buttercups...they and their friends have no place here in our part of the PNW.

We are trying not to put any more poisons into the environment, but may have to utilize some as a last resort, and are working with the Watershed Council in our preservation efforts. You will see tarps in my photos occasionally, covering what otherwise looks to be beautiful woodland. They are there to try and deal with the Shining Geranium that has exploded in our county. Look carefully and you can see some tarping on the right in the bottom photo.

The two side by side photos above that show the slide the beaver are using to come and go from the creek. The Archangel is also highly visible. I have walked up the creek, past our place and up into the Forest and the Archangel is everywhere. Crowding out the native species. I could just cry.

[kevynthedevylman]

He pushed the gold back.

"Are you refusing a commission from your king?" Asked one of the guards.

"'Suppose I am, my lord," the smith replied.

The guard made to pull his sword, but the King held out an arm to stop him. "Is the fee not to your satisfaction?" He asked.

"I'm certain that the budget you have bequeathed is beyond fair, your majesty," said the smith. "The gold isn't the problem."

"May I ask what the problem is?" The King replied.

"Materials," said the smith. "Materials is the problem, your majesty."

"How so?" Asked the King.

"You want a shield that can withstand the force of a dragon's claws and the heat of a dragon's fire," replied the smith. "Such a shield can be made. There is an alloy whose composition has been passed down by the great smiths of old. It is guaranteed impervious to the slash of a dragon's claws and so resistant to its flame that not even a flake of snow would melt in its wake."

"If you have need of this alloy, my people will acquire it for you. We will get you as much as there is in the kingdom, and whatever you do not use to make the shield will be added to your commission as a bonus payment."

The smith shook his head. "I could produce it myself, your majesty. I have all the ingredients in the appropriate amounts to make a shield of this alloy large enough for two men, if so needed." The smith leaned forward over the table between them. "All, that is, save one."

"Only one?"

"Aye," he replied. "The most important one: the scales of a dragon."

The guards were taken aback by his statement.

The smith leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Aye," he said. "You see the problem now, don't you? One needs to kill a dragon to make the metal, and one needs the metal to kill a dragon. Given that limitation, you're not likely to find much of the alloy anywhere on this continent, much less this kingdom, your majesty."

The King got up from the table, his guards making way. "Perhaps," he said. "But then, perhaps not."

The smith looked at the King, curiosity upon his brow.

The King motioned for the smith to follow him. "Join me outside a moment."

The smith did so. Outside, behind the King's personal carriage was a large horse drawn wagon. Atop the wagon was a white tarp, covering something on the wagon's bed. The King led the smith to the wagon. Once he was certain that no one else was watching in the street, he pulled up the edge of the tarp.

The smith's eyes widened, more from surprise than anything else. For beneath the tarp lay the corpse of a small, grey-white scaled infant dragon. A single stab wound in the scale gap over its heart told the smith how it met its messy end.

The smith turned to the King. "I see now why you are in need of that shield, your majesty," he said, calmly.

The King looked down at the stouter man. "I trust this will provide enough scales to make the shield," he said. It was not a question, but a statement.

The smith nodded. "Probably a breastplate, pauldrons and a helm as well. Mind you, it will take a week to finish preparing the metal."

"Then I advise you to begin forging at once," replied the King. "We shall return in one week to review your progress." He turned to one of his guards and said, "Have the men carry it into his shop. Make sure it remains unseen."

The guard replied in the affirmative and the men began extracting the carcass from the wagon. The smith led them back into the shop as the King made his departure.

Once all were gone, the smith examined the gold that had been left on his table by the King. He had likely determined that the smith would accept the payment once he saw the dead infant. He hadn't been wrong.

The smith rubbed his eyes in frustration. He began thinking about a number of things: how best to skin the carcass; how much wood he'd need to keep the furnace hot enough long enough for the metal to form properly; exactly how long it would take him to pack up his worldly goods and vacate the Kingdom before the parent or parents of his "materials" came and turned everything to ash.

Suffice to say, sleep would be a rare luxury for the next seven days.

You are a blacksmith, renowned not for your weapons, but for your armor and shields. One day, the King and his Royal Guards step foot into your workshop. He hands you a bag full of golden coins and gives you only one command. “Make me a shield that not a Dragon’s claws nor breath could pierce.”

[hillzerogear]

Enjoy Warmth in the Great Outdoors

Camping is a great way to connect with nature, but when the temperatures drop, staying warm can be a challenge. Enter the camping hot tent—a game-changer for winter camping enthusiasts. These specially designed tents are equipped with stoves, insulation, and innovative features that allow campers to stay warm and comfortable even in the coldest conditions. If you’re planning a winter camping trip or want to extend your outdoor adventures into the colder months, a camping hot tent might be the perfect addition to your gear. Let’s explore why hot tents are worth considering and how to choose the best one for your next adventure.

What is a Camping Hot Tent?

A camping hot tent is a tent designed for use in colder weather that includes a stove jack or vent to accommodate a wood-burning stove or other portable heating sources. This setup allows you to heat the interior of the tent, making it a cozy refuge from the chill. The main benefit of a hot tent is the ability to enjoy the outdoors during winter or shoulder seasons while staying warm inside the tent.

Unlike standard tents, hot tents are constructed with durable, heat-resistant materials that help trap heat and provide insulation. Many models come with features like reinforced stove jacks, flues for venting smoke, and additional ventilation to ensure safe operation of the heating stove.

Why Choose a Camping Hot Tent?

Warmth and Comfort: The primary reason campers opt for a hot tent is to stay warm. In traditional tents, cold weather can make camping uncomfortable, especially in winter. A hot tent with a stove ensures you can enjoy your outdoor adventure without sacrificing comfort.

Extended Camping Season: Hot tents make winter camping more accessible and enjoyable. You can use them well into the colder months, even during freezing temperatures, ensuring you never have to pack up your gear prematurely.

Campsite Cooking: Many hot tents come with a stove inside, allowing campers to cook meals and even boil water without needing an external camp stove. This makes it much easier to prepare hot meals in the wild.

Drying Gear: Wet gear is a common issue for winter campers. With a hot tent, you can dry your clothes and equipment while enjoying the warmth. The heat from the stove helps evaporate moisture, keeping your gear dry and ready for the next day’s adventures.

Key Features to Look for in a Hot Tent

Stove Jack: The stove jack is an essential feature that allows you to safely install a wood-burning stove or other heating device. Look for a tent with a durable, fire-resistant stove jack.

Ventilation: Proper ventilation is crucial when using a stove inside a tent. A good hot tent will have vents to allow airflow, preventing condensation and ensuring a steady supply of fresh air.

Material: Look for tents made of high-quality, heat-resistant materials, such as canvas or heavy-duty polyester, to ensure the tent holds up to heat and harsh conditions.

Size and Capacity: Depending on your group size, choose a tent that provides enough space to accommodate your camping gear and stove while offering comfortable sleeping arrangements.

Top Brands to Consider

Several brands specialize in making high-quality camping hot tents. Some of the top options include:

Seek Outside: Known for their durable, lightweight designs and high-performance stoves.

Tarp Tent: Offers innovative and compact hot tents for minimalists.

Tentipi: Renowned for their tipi-style tents that offer excellent heat retention.

Conclusion

Camping hot tents are an excellent investment for adventurers who love winter camping or want to extend their outdoor experiences into colder months. By providing warmth, comfort, and the ability to cook and dry gear, these tents enhance the camping experience and make winter adventures much more enjoyable. When choosing a hot tent, consider factors like stove compatibility, material, and ventilation to ensure you get the best product for your needs. Stay warm and cozy as you explore the great outdoors with a camping hot tent on your next trip!

[amconky]

Exciting Reasons To Select The Landfill Tarp suppliers US

Effective waste management is important in the protection of the environment and secure surroundings. The most important elements in maintaining the integrity and safety of a landfill are landfill tarps and geomembrane liners. These materials would contain pollution and avoid contamination. The right selection of products along with reliable suppliers of landfill tarps in the US and good geomembrane liner suppliers in Kentucky will assure quality materials which meet the industrial standard. Are you someone who wants to gather more facts about the Landfill Tarp suppliers US,Geomembrane liner supplier Kentucky? If Yes. This is the best place where people can gather more facts about the Landfill Tarp suppliers US,Geomembrane liner supplier Kentucky.

Geomembrane liner supplier Kentucky

The most typical uses of the landfill tarps made from weather-resistant and strong material are for covering the waste in landfills. In this way, tarpaulins prevent odors and fires from spreading, making it impossible for debris to be blown away because of the winds. These products also deter infestations by pests in landfills. Generally, landfill tarps are made from materials that could withstand tough environmental conditions characterized by UV rays, rain, and extreme temperatures. Therefore, reliable providers in the US provide different ranges of landfill tarps to allow choices according to specific needs of the various landfill sites.

Landfill construction, waste storage, and mining works make up most applications of geomembrane liners as they do not allow dangerous material to reach the environment. A reliable Geomembrane liner supplier Kentucky would come with some alternatives that are just right to address the various demands of the individual project for strength, long lifespan, and much protection. The correct supplier will hence offer expert advice along with quality products that comply with regulatory requirements to ensure that any kind of need; be it for a liner on an expansive landfill or a more compact containment system, is fully covered.

Dependable suppliers within the US in terms of Landfill Tarp suppliers US and in Kentucky for geomembrane liners would best guarantee the provision of quality materials for proper handling of wastes. The products are therefore very crucial to ensure clean, safe, and sustainable landfilling and consequently protecting the environment as well as the health of people.

[tuffwrap]

The Essential Guide to Construction Hoarding Tarps in Canada

Construction projects in Canada face a wide range of environmental challenges, from harsh winter conditions to heavy rain and strong winds. One crucial solution to these challenges is the use of construction hoarding tarps. These specialised tarps help create a safe, enclosed workspace while providing protection from the elements.

What Are Construction Hoarding Tarps?

Hoarding tarps are heavy-duty, weather-resistant materials used to enclose construction sites, scaffolding, and temporary workspaces. Typically made from durable, woven polyethylene, they serve as a barrier against wind, snow, and rain, while also helping to contain dust and debris. Many tarps are translucent, allowing natural light to filter through, which improves visibility on-site.

Types of Hoarding Tarps

Standard Polyethylene Hoarding Tarps

Lightweight yet durable

Water-resistant and UV-protected

Reinforced edges with grommets for easy installation

Insulated Hoarding Tarps

Designed for cold weather conditions

Typically around 1/4-inch thick with an insulating core

Helps retain heat for winter construction projects

Fire-Retardant Hoarding Tarps

Meets Canadian fire safety standards (CAN/ULC-S109)

Ideal for indoor and high-risk areas

Coated with fire-retardant materials for enhanced safety

Benefits of Using Hoarding Tarps

Weather Protection: Keeps workers and equipment safe from extreme weather conditions.

Improved Site Safety: Helps contain dust, debris, and potential hazards.

Temperature Control: Insulated tarps help maintain warmth during cold months.

Easy Installation: Designed with grommets and reinforced edges for secure fastening.

Enhanced Privacy & Security: Creates a controlled environment by restricting visibility from outside.

Choosing the Right Hoarding Tarp

When selecting a hoarding tarp for your project, consider the following factors:

Climate Conditions: If working in winter, opt for insulated tarps.

Durability: Ensure the tarp is strong enough to withstand wind and heavy usage.

Fire Resistance: If required by regulations, use fire-rated tarps.

Size & Coverage: Choose a tarp that provides full enclosure for the site.

Final Thoughts

Construction hoarding tarps are a crucial investment for any building project in Canada. Whether you need weather protection, enhanced safety, or temperature control, the right tarp can make a significant difference in efficiency and working conditions. By selecting the appropriate tarp for your needs, you can ensure a smoother and more secure construction process.

For high-quality hoarding tarps, check out trusted Canadian suppliers specialising in construction site protection.

[greycountydrywall]

Advantages of Drywall

Drywall is a construction material that provides flexibility and design control. It also reduces energy costs by improving insulation and helps manage indoor temperature fluctuations. It is also fire resistant and aesthetically pleasing.

To ensure a successful installation, the contractor should assess the space and clear it of furniture or other objects that may obstruct the work area. He should also protect floors and surrounding areas with plastic sheets or tarps.

Durable

Drywall is a durable construction material that’s easy to install and provides versatility in design. It also helps to reduce energy costs by insulating indoor spaces, making them warmer in winter and cooler in summer. The dense material also absorbs noise, creating a quiet environment in homes and offices.

Drywall construction is significantly faster than traditional building methods, reducing downtime and inconvenience. It is especially useful for renovations and new builds, as it can be completed in three to four times less time than brick and mortar construction. This allows for quicker occupation of a space, which is beneficial to businesses and residents alike.

While drywall is an effective construction material, there are more eco-friendly options available. For example, Eco Rock is made from recycled materials such as kiln dust and fly ash, and it’s a sustainable alternative to traditional gypsum wallboard. However, drywall is still susceptible to water damage, which can cause it to warp and discolour over time.

It is easy to install

Before drywall was introduced, builders used plaster to cover walls. However, the process of buying a lot of thin boards, nailing them up and spreading the plaster was time consuming and expensive.

Drywall is easier to install than plaster and can be cut into different sizes. It is also more durable than plaster, and it can be repaired easily. If you are thinking of installing a drywall wall, talk to a reputable construction company such as Grey County Drywall for more information.

Another advantage of drywall is its sound insulation. It can help to keep rooms warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer, and it will reduce your heating and cooling costs. Additionally, drywall is an eco-friendly choice because it doesn’t require wood to be produced. It can also be made from recycled materials. Buying local drywall will save you money on shipping costs, and it will be easier to install than items that are shipped from far away.

It is fire resistant

Drywall is a common building material known for its durability and efficiency. It also has fire-resistant properties, making it a safer choice for your home or business. The fire-resistant features are a result of the noncombustible gypsum plaster that makes up drywall panels.

While it isn’t necessary to use fire-rated drywall in every area of your home, it can be useful in some areas, such as garages and utility rooms. It can also be helpful in dividing rooms for added privacy and design flexibility.

It is affordable

Drywall is a cost-effective construction material and has become a popular option for renovators and builders. It can also help insulate a home and save on energy bills. Choosing drywall made by local manufacturers can further reduce costs, as the materials will be fresher and less prone to moisture exposure or handling damage.

Drywall prices are based on the square footage of walls and ceilings to be covered. It is important to accurately measure and quantify these areas, as this will impact the price per square foot.

Grey County Drywall 647-625-2013 greycountydrywall@gmail.com www.greycountydrywall.ca