#outside camping kit

[alliedhomes]

Top 4 Hunter Compound Crossbows 

Compound crossbow technology has advanced tremendously in recent years. Indeed, it is remarkable to observe how the greatest hunting bow makers improve their products in terms of effectiveness and efficiency with each passing year.

If you've been shooting bows for a decade or two, you've probably noticed a significant advance in the adaptability and quality of top hunting compound bows in the last several years. The best part is that you don't have to spend a fortune to have a high-performance compound bow.

The compound bow is an item of equipment that can be highly useful during a hunting adventure if you're an avid hunter. Having said that, selecting the proper model while considering numerous crucial elements is essential. The Top Four Compound Bows for Hunting are listed here.

BEAR ARCHERY CRUZER G2 COMPOUND BOW

DIAMOND ARCHERY INFINITE 305 COMPOUND BOW

BEAR DIVERGENT COMPOUND BOW

DIAMOND ARCHERY EDGE 320

Words to remember When it comes to picking the best crossbow for hunting, many aspects come into play. However, when choosing one, take into consideration that your final decision should have been based on your individual preferences. The ideal crossbow for someone else may not be appropriate for your hunting needs. So, think over the possibilities above and make an informed decision!

[in-memoriam-tgwk]

[elementclangen]

Moon 300-Newleaf

Petalpaw (12) has been made a warrior with the name of Petalfrost in honor of his observance.  Lately, the Clan has been having some tensions with StumpyClan over recent hunting disputes.  Aries (66) goes to them to try and resolve them but doesn’t make any progress.  Being a mediator is harder than it looks.  With Almondback (71) to watch their kits, Brightmouse (75) and Kestrelcreek (89) go on a nice moonlit stroll.  Back at camp, Mitekit (1) has grown to be very demanding of attention.  She wants all the young warriors to pay attention to her all the time. She even convinces Dawnfreckle (84) to sneak her out of camp, shielding her with a coat of darkness.  The two groups are a little shocked to run into each other.  Even though they’re mates with the same cat, Brightmouse and Almondback don’t get along very well and disagree with each other about certain things.  Including how they feel about a certain cat.  Brightmouse is annoyed by Skymoon (12) and ignores her.  Meanwhile, Almondback makes a point to spend some time with the young warrior.  Despite being a warrior, Burdockbeam (16) makes sure to still learn.  She picks up a helpful skill from Greenrapid (56) about how to form small spikes of ice on her pelt so that attackers slice their paws on it.  And hanging out with the senior warriors gives her a chance to stick a thorn in Brightmouse’s bedding as a prank.  Brightmouse is determined to find out who the culprit is and prank them back. She decides that it must have been Copperheart (16) and scares her on a patrol. Aries appreciates Hopcurl’s (18) help in mediating issues between their clanmates while she has to deal with interclan issues.  It’s nice to be able to have someone to rely on.  Hollowkit (1), is paying close attention to how Pebbletuft (33) cares for her patients.  Creekstar (154) is feeling more spry than she has in moons and plays a prank on her deputy, letting Dawnfreckle oversleep.  It’s nice for Downgaze (81) to see his mom feeling better.  Tanglechirp (47) is excited to have a niece and nephew.  He spends so long telling them about morals that they fall asleep.  Crouchpaw (11)  continues to have visions.  Alderflight (56) finally figures out that that’s what her dreams are.  It’s unusual and he’s not sure what to do.  He’ll try asking Downgaze.

Healer’s den: Pebbletuft (dislocated joint), Sofanthiel (frostbite), Kestrelcreek (recovering from birth), Cherviljumble (joint pain), Brightmouse (small cut), Copperheart (small cut), Longpelt (shivering)

New personalities: Petalfrost (insecure, good swimmer, and a great teacher), Mitekit (attention-seeker, oddly insightful), Hollowkit (troublesome, oddly observant)

[military1st]

Light My Fire Lunchboxes and Mealkits

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[ialpiriel]

One of these days I need to go through my three separate camping/emergency kits and get everything sorted out, cleaned up, lists checked, and put back where it needs to go

[woso-dreamzzz]

Travel Day III

Wonze x Baby!Reader

Summary: You go to camp for the first time

By all regards, the actual pregnancy went fairly well.

There was little morning sickness, not too many cramps and only slight discomfort.

You were a kicker though, always winding your foot back to slam into Keira's belly, like you were getting impatient and wanted out.

You weren't a particularly long birth either, surprising enough for a first time mother. It took barely half a day from beginning to end and then you were laying on Keira's chest with your chord cut and whining slightly.

Lucy cried when you were born, full on ugly sobs that only got worse when she got to hold you for the first time. She kept blubbering and crying and clutching you close like she was afraid you would disappear.

You're older now, old enough to hold up your head but still haven't met anyone outside of the family.

You look at Keira curiously as she packs your bag, whining and flapping your hands.

"Peanut," She laughs," I can't hold you all the time, you know."

No, you don't know that and you don't like the way that she's not holding you know.

A few nights ago, Mum had gone off to England Camp so it was just you and Mummy for a while. But now, as Mummy bustles around the hotel room, she says you're going too.

It's a little weird, you think, that this is being made such a big thing but Mummy is Mummy and you just want her to hold you, fighting against the straps of your bouncer.

Keira looks at your stubborn expression with a hint of a smile, shaking her head at the very Lucy Bronze determination on your face as you try to escape.

Keira ends up taking pity on your as you get increasingly frustrated with the buckle and lifts you up into her arms.

You face splits into a smile, your legs kicking out happily as she grabs the rest of the bags.

It's a short drive to camp and Lucy's waiting for her at reception. Or rather, she's waiting for you.

You're instantly in her arms, getting kisses all over your face.

"I missed you so much, peanut!"

You giggle, going cross eyed as a kiss lands on your nose.

"I'm here too, you know."

"Hi, Keira," Lucy says quickly before turning back to you," Everyone's so excited to meet you! Yes! Yes, they are!"

You keep giggling and Lucy carts you off to where everyone is waiting in the break room.

"Meet little Peanut!" Lucy announces, holding you up for everyone to see," She'll be taking your spots on the team very soon!"

"Yeah, right," Georgia laughs," We'll see." She and Leah are one of the first to approach, cooing over you and stroking your cheek.

The sensation makes you turn your head, rooting immediately. You find Georgia's finger, sucking it into your mouth before pulling a face when you get no milk.

"Looks like she's not a fan," Leah snickers.

Lucy transfers you into her arms and you feel a bit heavier than Leah expected. She'd always assumed babies to weigh the same as the baby dolls did but apparently not.

"This is auntie Leah," Keira says to you as she slightly adjusts Leah's hold of you," And that was Auntie G."

"She looks like Lucy," Leah says and Lucy grins triumphantly.

"I know, right?!"

They all ignore her.

"Does she have an England kit yet?" Georgia asks.

"She's tiny," Keira says," She doesn't need one just yet."

"How could you say that? Of course she needs one!"

"Yeah, Keira!" Leah agrees," You're denying her heritage! She needs a kit!"

The talk of you getting your own kit is briefly put away when the kit man brings out an adult sixed jersey that Leah and Georgia wrestle over your onesie.

It's a Walsh shirt that Lucy briefly complains about before shrugging and deciding if you can get her looks then you can also get Keira's shirt first.

You get whiny when Georgia's holding you though and she looks highly distressed as she stares at Lucy and Keira.

"She's hungry." Lucy's already digging around in your bag for the towel that Keira throws over her shoulder to feed you.

"Do you mind if I do it here?" Keira asks," I can go to a different room if-"

"It's fine!" Leah assures her," Just get the little one fed so we can keep playing."

Keira isn't sure if it's a baby thing or a you thing but you are incapable of eating in the light. You like to be covered by something. You like the darkness and you latch extremely well in those circumstances rather than the somewhat clumsy latches you have when you're out in the open.

Your latch is perfect now too and you happily suckle, one hand resting possessively on the top of Keira's breast like always. She briefly wonders if you do it because you think your source of milk will suddenly disappear.

"How much longer until she can walk?" Georgia asks," And how long until she can run?"

Keira frowns. "Why does it matter?"

"Because we need to train her up early," Leah cuts in," Honestly, Keira, why do you think? She's England's future! We've got to get her up to speed quickly!"

Keira gives them both a doubtful look. "And what if she doesn't like football?"

In answer, everyone looks at the way your legs are kicking happily as you feed.

[midnighvtm4ss]

Rosemary

Summary: who would have thought that a small piece of paper could be the very thing that would crush your dreams with Arthur ? part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link (better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

content: suggestive, angst, hurt/no comfort (for now) probs grammar errors srryy

wc: 2k

a/n: hear me out, I thought about writing a jealous!reader oneshot with Arthur but,, I got a bit carried away and so many ideas came into my mind so I was thinking about making this a mini series with a pt.2. Let me know if you’d be interested in a pt.2 <33 (gif from pinterest)

Nothing was more relaxing to you than fixing some of Arthur’s shirts and pants while sitting outside your shared tent.

Seated on a small cushion placed on the ground with your back against one of Arthur’s chests your hands worked delicate but precise movements mending the cotton of his favorite black shirt. The rays of light sparkling from the east coast of the flat iron lake at Clemens Point casting a golden halo around you and the usual buzzing of camp making you feel at ease, letting you loose yourself in your thoughts.

During these moments your mind often drifted to thoughts about you and Arthur, the way he would make you feel all warm inside like a young naive teenager with just his soft glances and loving touches, how he would make you dream some of the craziest things for a couple of outlaws like yourselves like having a proper family with him, getting proper married before god and maybe even owning your very own ranch at some point.

Your dreamy stream of thoughts was soon interrupted as Mary Beth’s light footsteps on the dry grass could be heard coming towards your direction, with a strange expression you couldn’t quite decipher on her face and a small letter in her hands. As she saw you sitting down near yours and Arthur’s tent her fair features twisted into an anxious manner, her expression resembling the one of someone who just ate a whole lemon in one go, her steps faltering almost imperceptibly before continuing her path towards your shared tent.

“Hiya Miss,” she said in a chirpy tone, her voice higher than usual as she stopped in front of you, her eyes looking around avoiding your confused gaze as she played with the paper edge of the letter in her delicate hands.

“Arthur hasn’t come back yet ?” Strange. Her voice cracked a little at the end. She quickly cleared her throat with a small smile. Mary Beth's usual cordial and friendly façade cracked the more she was near you, letting you see her unusual unease.

“‘M afraid not, he said he was going into town for some ‘deputy thing’ with the Grays, why ? Did something happen ?” you replied imitating Arthur’s low voice and accent as you put down his shirt which was now fixed and your sewing kit. At your failed attempt at imitating his accent Mary Beth let out a small laugh, covering her smile with her free hand, relaxing just a tiny bit before regaining her previous composure.

Smoothing out the white envelope in her hands she handed it over to you, as you took it you couldn’t help but notice the sender’s name written in what you called a ‘fancy cursive’. You weren’t exactly good at reading or writing but the fancy ink swirls made out a familiar name.

The sender was Mary Linton.

“It’s for Arthur, it arrived this morning,” she told you looking at you with something in her eyes you couldn’t quite make out. Was it a shared distaste for the woman in question or was it perhaps pity toward you what you could see reflected in her eyes ?

You weren’t a stranger to who Mary Linton was, having joined the gang when you were eighteen and Arthur fresh of twenty-six you knew who Mary was, how she was Arthur’s first love, the woman he almost married if it wasn’t for her strict father not approving his lifestyle. The woman who completely shattered his heart.

You knew that after his breakup with Mary he was distraught, drinking and sleeping around almost every night before eventually getting one of the girls he slept with pregnant with his son Isaac. How he, from time to time, went to Eliza’s cabin and visited them, never failing to bring sweets and shiny toys for his Isaac who met him with a toothy little smile every time Arthur visited them until one day the only thing Arthur was met was an empty robbed cabin and Eliza’s lifeless body hugging Isaac’s one.

For almost a year you helplessly witnessed Arthur, the gang’s main enforcer, spiraling more and more into a toxic lifestyle. He began to drink more, often found sitting near the campfire drunk every night, his actions during jobs sloppy and reckless not sparing a single ounce of mercy for whoever dared to wrong him. His mood around camp bringing everyone down until one day you decided you had enough.

He had just come back from a job went wrong with Hosea, the older man's sour mood perceptible from miles away as he hitched his horse and quickly walked away to his tent, leaving Arthur behind talking pretty much to himself how it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t do anything wrong, the pungent scent of alcohol surrounding the space around him. Seeing the scene in front of you you quickly put down your cleaning rag and marched towards him giving him a loud earful in front of everyone in camp not caring that he was a 6’1 massive killing machine of an outlaw and eight years older than you and that you were the last addition to camp making you a nobody in the eyes of what was basically Dutch’s golden child. You simply had enough.

From that moment onwards Arthur started to get better, letting go of his usual whisky bottle and surprisingly starting to pay attention to you rather than avoiding or despising you, eyeing you with respect each time you expressed your opinion around camp, coming to your tent almost every night for advice or just to talk about life opening up to you about his family and past love building day by day an unexpected friendship which blossomed years later into your current relationship.

Seeing her name now again after so many years left you with a sour taste in your mouth.

You took the letter and placed it on Arthur’s nightstand as you thanked Mary Beth and began to tidy up your things.

The sky was beginning to lose its rosy color making space for a deep blue when Arthur came back, the gallop of his and Dutch horses announcing their arrival into camp.

You were chatting with Karen and Javier at the round table near the fire when you felt his hand on your shoulder, the scent of wood and gunpowder filling your nose letting you relax under his soft touch. He bent down to quickly kiss your cheek, a small show of pda which left you all warm inside, almost letting you forget about the letter. Almost.

“Hello sweetheart,” he said in his usual low tone near your ear, a shiver traveling down your spine at his vicinity a soft blush making its way into your cheeks.

“Miss Jones, Javier” he greeted your company before taking your hand in his calloused one letting you up from your seat and guiding you towards his tent leaving Karen and Javier sharing knowing glances between them.

As soon as you walked into your shared tent he made quick work of closing the flap before taking your face in his hands and kissing you. His soft kisses soon turned into hungry ones as his right hand left your soft cheek to trace down your neck then your collarbones before settling on your hips using your hips to guide you to lay on the bed.

“missed ya a lot today sweetheart,” he breathed on your neck as he positioned himself on top of you before kissing your sensitive spot, your eyes closed as your soft hands traveled onto his hair, tugging at his dirty blonde strands.

“got you in my mind the whole day, damn near made Dutch real name slip in front of them Grays. Jus’ couldn’t help but think ‘bout your pretty face.” he continued to kiss your sensitive skin, his words and his lips working like magic on you. His hands exploring your body inch by inch toying with the buttons of your white shirt.

As you open your eyes to look at Arthur you couldn’t help but remember the envelope sitting on his bedside table.

“Arthur,” you sighed trying to keep your voice stable but failing miserably as his teeth playfully bit your neck. The pleasure and the warmth of his body on top of yours was heavenly making you melt like butter under his touch but you were too curious to see what was in that letter to continue, your hands came on his shoulders to try and get the man off of you. “darling you, fuck, you’ve got a letter.”

As soon as you finished your sentence Arthur stopped his actions at once, his hands dropping on the soft mattress before getting up into a seated position beside you. He sighed as he ran his hands into his hair before taking the letter, his eyes quickly scanning the sender’s name before opening the envelope.

As his eyes read the elegant handwritten letter of Mary you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat out of your chest with anticipation, you knew it was stupid to feel this way but you couldn’t help but worry. Why is she mailing him after all these years of radio silence ? What did she want from him and how exactly did she know how to contact him ?

Deciding it was best to feign ignorance than to straight up get defensive and be viewed as possessive with Arthur you scooted closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder as you asked, trying your best to keep your façade, from who was the letter.

“Mh, nobody jus’ a sorry fellow I met.”

Your heart sank.

He lied to you. He lied to you without even an ounce of hesitation. A small ‘Oh’ left your lips as you didn’t know exactly how to respond, mind racing with many thoughts, the knowledge of his lie felt like an iced bucket of water was thrown at you, freezing you in your spot unable to move. A sense of nausea overtaking your body.

With a swift movement, he folded the letter and put it in the bottom drawer of the nightstand where other papers filled the small space. Turning back to face you he put one of his large hands on your cheeks caressing you with a delicacy that in that moment only made you further nauseous about the situation. His lips met your forehead, then your nose descending further down to your lips, too caught up in your thoughts you sat there unmoving. Arthur sensed your unusual attitude.

“y’alright sweetheart ?” he asked, you internally scoffed at his seemingly concerned expression. The nerve he had to be asking you that after he blatantly lied to your face.

“yeah just tired that’s all.” you dismissed him shifting on the bed and laying down on your side of the bed. You needed space to think, your mind going haywire. Was this the first time she mailed him ? Why was that as soon as you mentioned a letter he seemed to already know it was from her ? Why did Mary Beth act so strange when giving you the letter ? Why did he lie ? Why.

You wished you could let this go, forget about everything and melt back into his warm embrace, but you couldn’t. You had to find out what was going on.

Later that night when the outlaw was fast asleep beside you and the only sounds that could be heard were his soft snores that filled the space in your tent you found out that the other papers in the drawer were not random papers.

The drawer was full of Mary’s letters.

[loudclan-clangen]

Silly question but what do their kits call Silt? Mom, Dad, some new made up word, "Parental Unit"? Do they and Owl take turns, like Silt is with them at night and Owl takes care of them during the day while they're out on patrol and training Cavepaw?

They call Silt "Ama", at least while they're little. As they get older Siltsplash prefers to just be called Silt instead. They and Owlstar take turns theoretically. Owlstar loves to hang out and play with his kits, and Siltsplash is more than willing to step away and let him take over for a while, but he gets a bit bored during the actual parenting moments and has a bad habit of just handing them off to whoever's closest when he decides to go back to work. (He does not believe that the apprentices should be banned from babysitting. It wasn't their fault that an eagle came by, it could have happened to anyone!) He'll take more responsibility as they grow and can do more fun things together. Weed, Silt, and Fierce all rotate through the nursery for the most part, and as they get older it's more and more common to find a gaggle of kittens doing simple jobs that require minimal supervision, like cleaning out old dried herbs in the medicine den or pulling up roots that are encroaching on the training area. Basically just something to keep them busy but also within sight while the adults do their job. It helps a lot that Cavepaw's leg keeps him from travelling too far up the mountain, so Silt spends less time outside of camp than they usually would.

For anyone who asked how Eklutna would have been as a mother, here you go. She loves all of her sons equally, she just loves the strongest ones more. (There wouldn't be any weak ones if she had been there to raise them.)

Please enjoy these mini-comics of Silt and their babies cause we only have 1 moon left before they become apprentices!

[adolin]

I love all the implications of Jamie getting Roy the KUNT shirt. Because there’s so much to unpack here

Phoebe reached out to Jamie, and obviously her mum was in on it. They've clearly met before! He held Phoebe's hand and didn't introduce himself to Roy's sister. They know him!

Jamie was away training with the England national team. That’s two hours outside of London. He had to take the afternoon off (from England training camp! decked in his England gear) to go to Phoebe’s party.

Lassoverse Gareth Southgate was in on it. He would have needed to get permission to leave! (Or he snuck out, but S3 Jamie wouldn’t). I bet he had to explain why.

When Jamie says “I got them to change the E to a U.” This wasn’t a DIY gift. He got the national team equipment people to make him a version of the 2014 wc kit with Roy’s number that says KUNT on it. NO WAY it would’ve stayed a secret.

In conclusion: the entire England national team knows about the ROY KUNT shirt and they were absolutely completely totally on board. They also all know about Jamie’s big crush

[kudossi]

only god can write this script

“I’m, uh,” Lionblaze mutters, his tail sweeping behind him, “sorry for your loss.”

You would be, wouldn’t you, Dovewing doesn’t say, because she’s ex-ThunderClan, because she’s ex-prophesied, because his sister died for hers and because he’d wanted to kill her son, because she’s the leader’s mate, because her feelings about the cat who practically kidnapped her from her family to raise as a substitute for another are complicated and thorny at best. “Thank you,” she says at last, like she’s expected to. The diplomacy Tawnypelt has spent so long teaching her tastes rotten on her tongue.

Lionblaze wipes his mouth with one paw. Dovewing’s sister is ThunderClan’s deputy now, not him. She wonders how he feels about it. She wonders whether he thinks Hollyleaf should be there instead. She wonders if, just as she had been, Ivypool is just another substitute for a black cat with too-sharp eyes, too much potential. All wasted, of course, because StarClan was nothing if not good at wasting.

She wishes she knew why the she-cats suffered most. She wishes she didn’t know that they did.

She wishes Rowankit had been born a tom, sometimes, in her darkest moments. If he had, he wouldn’t be dead. “Simple as that,” she’d said to Ivypool last Gathering.

“Simple as that,” Ivypool had echoed, hollow. Bristlefrost had died for — what, exactly? So that more toms could live? So that the she-cat didn’t get the happy ending?

“There are never any happy endings for us,” Hollyleaf had murmured to her the morning of her death. The implication had been clear. Dovewing had stared at the only cat who ever understood her with wide, dry eyes until Hollyleaf had set her chin on Dovewing’s head, and then she’d been helpless not to lean in, a sob rattling her chest as she did.

“I approve,” Sorreltail had grinned at her as Briarlight had hissed defiance at the idea of being evacuated.

“Do I need it?” Dovewing had wondered.

“No,” Sorreltail had answered, simple as anything. “If it’s Briarlight, wonderful. But if there lies something for you outside of these borders — take it. Take it and never look back.”

It was the last time she had spoken to Sorreltail until she was cleaning her blood off of Lilykit and Seedkit as another panic swept over the camp. And even then, she was only speaking to a corpse, reassuring a cat who wasn’t there anymore that her kits would be okay.

(And Seedpaw had drowned to keep a stick — the closest memory of her mother she had — in ThunderClan’s possession. Dovewing had wept that night, inconsolable. Another daughter lost to the memory of her mother, a mother who had died because she had been expected to be a mother before a warrior, a mother despite the worst of wounds. A beaver’s dam bursts and is built again, over and over, until Dovewing’s coat drips with invisible blood.)

“Nursery work isn’t simple,” Ferncloud had smiled once, taking her through each task. Her demeanor was gentle, but the undercurrent was hard. Bumblepaw hadn’t taken this lesson. She knew that Lionblaze hadn’t, either.

“Why us?” Dovepaw had asked, looking up at her.

Ferncloud’s gaze, fixed on a point deep in the den, snapped to hers as if pulled there. “Because it’s only us,” she had said after a moment.

Less than a year later, Dovewing would step through Ferncloud’s blood to block a Dark Forest shade, all murk and mire and claws made of filth, from taking a bite out of her corpse.

“Don’t have another litter,” Lionblaze says now, callous in his way. “It never ends well for us.”

She knows — oh, does she ever know — that. No one star-touched could get away with a second litter, not if the stars had touched you young, even if they took the blessings they’d given away. Lionblaze’s first litter had led unremarkable lives — Hollytuft, despite her namesake, was quiet and unobtrusive; Fernsong had stepped a little farther than his bounds with Ivypool (and had paid for it, perhaps, with their daughter drowning in a lake made of rot); and Sorrelstripe’s history seemed to begin and end with her own litter (another dam, rising high; Dovewing looks away, now, because the alternative hollows her chest with rhythmic scraping of dulled teeth — pain comforted by pain). But the second? Two of them kittypets, the third an active rebel who had lost her mate to her own leader’s claws? A gentle fate, all told. They were all still alive, but what did that matter to him? Did the shame of having two living kittypet children outweigh the idea that both were alive, that both were happy, that he could visit them if he cared to?

“He shouldn’t have allowed it,” Jayfeather had said, his blind eyes staring into Dovewing’s soul.

“I shouldn’t have allowed it,” Lionblaze had said, anger toying at the end of every word.

But Dovewing had wanted, and now her tiny, perfect son is dead. “I won’t,” she says, hoarse. After all, she hadn’t ever been allowed to want. What had she expected? That StarClan would grant mercy to one who had only ever done their bidding?

“Guess some of us have to learn our lessons,” Lionblaze mutters. He scratches at an ear and averts his gaze from the direction of ShadowClan’s medicine den when someone stirs within.

Dovewing wonders if she can muster up the energy to be truly angry. She wants to be so badly, like one might want to escape sharpened claws dipped into soft flesh, but it’s hard to muster in this cruel, gray world without her son, with only callous gods to stare down at her. “Guess so,” she says, and wonders which god wrote this script she’s living. Her losses burn hot in her throat, the injustices as cold as ice, but Lionblaze could never fathom a story more unhappy than his own. “I guess so.”

[canon-notcanon-warriorcats]

you know that vision leafpool got of brambles surrounding the camp and she took it as meaning that brambleclaw should be deputy because he'd protect the clan

first of all, shout out to leafpool for being very mature and assuming the most positive outcome about that vision even though she fucking hated brambleclaw (rightfully)

but also what if she was wrong, what if she interpreted the sign wrong, what if the vision meant brambleclaw, like brambles, would ensnare, strangle, and cause HARM to thunderclan, not protect it

bramblestar's leadership has literally caused more harm than good to ANYONE in thunderclan (as well as outside of thunderclan, literally all of the clans (except skyclan i guess?), as well as the sisters have SUFFERED because of bramblestar being thunderclan's leader

and not to mention the individual cats who've suffered the most from him being leader, like him using his power to literally ABUSE squirrelflight, as well as his decisions actively causing leafpool's death, as well as the death of moonlight, killing a harmless group's leader and leaving three newborn kits as orphans, and ALMOST killing squirrelflight

not to mention brambleclaw literally had to STOP AND THINK about whether or not he should save firestar from the foxtrap like what the fuck man, and maybe if he hadn't literally hesitated firestar wouldn't have lost that life and then at the great battle firestar would have survived

what if starclan WAS sending a warning, and specifically sent it to leafpool because she was already suspicious of brambleclaw, but because she was still so young and less experienced, because she was so kindhearted and wanted to see the good in everyone, she WANTED her sister's mate to be a good person, a good leader, and was such a positive person, she thought, she wanted, she HOPED that it was a sign from starclan that brambles would protect her clan, her sister, her family

but it wasn't

[alliedhomes]

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[hacvek]

🌑 nightmeows 🔁 dogfandomfandom Follow

clan-showdown-official-deactivated-80-0

Welcome to the Official Clan Showdown, an official tournament to decide the best clan of all! I'll be letting this run for a quarter-moon so hopefully cats from all corners of the forest can vote!

So let's settle this once and for all, through democracy rather than violence

which clan is the best?

ThunderClan ❚❚ 6.3%

WindClan ❚❚❚❚ 11.2%

RiverClan ❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚ 33.6%

ShadowClan ❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚ 20.3%

I'm a kittypet that just wants to press a button ❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚ 28.6%

3384 votes · Poll ends in 1 day 890 birdsongs

🦇🔁 lichenlikehim Follow

windclan bros....

🍄🔁 shrewd-and-wondervole

Something's not adding up. Even discounting the kittypet option, there are way more voters than there are Clan cats.

⚡🔁 thunderclan-official Follow

there are numbers above 5?

🦁🔁 the-lionesse Follow

y'all i figured out why the vote counts are so high. sparrowsong from riverclan just went out and gave birth to fifty kits and signed them all up for clanblr accounts jkldfjslkfd

🪱🔁 wormdefender Follow

op is having a breakdown about thunderclan not winning btw

🐺🔁 dogfandom Follow

OP: here's a silly poll!

cats: get a little silly with it

OP: YOU HAVE COMMITTED VIOLENCE AGAINST ME AND MY MOTHER

#oh so this is what's going on #but where is the breakdown post #edit: i found it 2,349 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

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🐸 dreamsofgreenleaf

here's how thunderclan can still win

#is this anything #mine 1 note ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

Oopsie! An error was encountered when reblogging. Try again? You've exceeded your daily post limit.

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🍄 shrewd-and-wondervole 🔁 the-lionesse Follow

Anonymous mewed: wait how did sparrowspong give birth to fifty kits at once

🦁 the-lionesse Follow

she slept with multiple toms. hope that helps.

#interesting #i didn't know that was possible! #bio tag 230 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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🪳 starclansfavoriteplaything 🔁 dirteater

Anonymous mewed: i found someone's mirrorleaf still logged into their clanblr at the gathering and voted for shadowclan. i'm not even a clan cat i just got lost while playing outside

🙀 clan-confessions

.

🪶🔁 pheasantcatcher Follow

anon is braver than any thunderclan warrior

🌿🔁 herbmother Follow

This is what StarClan wants for us. To do the right thing even when we won't get credit for it.

🪳🔁 starclansfavoriteplaything

RARE KITTYPET W

#YOU ARE THE REASON WE CANT HAVE PEACE #lmto [Editor's note: 'laughing my tail off'] 3,401 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

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🕸️ foxtails 🔁 greencoughtiger Follow

🐭 mouse ✔️✔️

the winner is not shadowclan or riverclan or anyone else. the winner is voter fraud

#prev wtf you can't join clanblr until you're at least twelve moons of age 3,925 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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🪳 starclansfavoriteplaything 🔁 dirteater

🐈 freshkillz Follow

feeling lonely need me a she-cat with a mottled pelt and thick tail rn

🦋🔁 moon--moth Follow

not now the entirety of thunderclan was just murdered

#READ THE CAMP 129 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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🐸 dreamsofgreenleaf 🔁 mewsogyny Follow

purrzerk-deactivated-80-01m-04d mewed: You can't get pregnant with multiple litters at once. Talk to your medicine cat before spouting misinformation on clanblr

🦁 the-lionesse Follow

i'm literally a medicine cat apprentice but go off

🐷🔁 tomsplaining-archive Follow

Example #163

#get his tail 778 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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◼️ dirteater 🔁 cats-posting-their-ls Follow

clan-showdown-official-deactivated-80-0

To everycat that reblogged and voted in my poll in good faith, I thank you.

Clearly something fishy is afoot, whether that's from kits birthed for the purpose of this poll, or popular blogs like @​mouse and @swanstar-official badgering their kittypet followers to vote for their Clan. And clearly the subversion does not come from all sides in this debate. I have half a mind to declare ThunderClan the winner, just out of spite.

If RiverClan or ShadowClan 'wins' by cheating, fraud, intimidation, and manipulation, does that 'prove' that it is the best? Hardly. It only proves that such Clans are willing to gain any advantage by any means—including dishonorable ones. Can you trust that such cats won't resort to dirty tactics in snout-to-snout interactions? At the Gathering? In war? Cats like you are the reason we will never have peace.

I won't lie, I'm a bit distraught right now. But I probably should not have expected anything else from this StarClan-forsaken webbedsight. I will never be doing anything like this for you mangy cats ever again. Goodbye.

#this kitty really thought he was going to win the nuzzle peace prize with this poll #my brother in starclan this is not a forest of honor 2,064 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

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🌑 nightmeows 🔁 malecalico

🤵 actualtwoleg

i didn't even knowed that there wass so many cats in this beuatifal world. woag

🌞🔁 malecalico

only valid ally

#can someone explain what is going on 64 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

[splinterclan]

surely whorlstar would let the kits see their mom??? why are they having to sneak around?

Kinda spoilers bc I'm gonna explain my reasoning behind this storyline

Main reasoning right now is that Bess has refused to join/stay near the clan and Whorlstar obv wouldn't want the kits leaving camp (esp with the Eagle attacks and other dangers). Not that she's been asked - Cedarheart hasn't spoken to her about the kits' mother since he brought them to the clan.

For her original reasons as well - Bess is living outside of clan life/the Warrior Code. She could turn her kits against Splinterclan's rules - like if she had rogue friends who wanted to hunt on Splinter territory, would she turn her kits against the clan and allow that to happen? Would she just get them to steal prey for her? Or herbs? What about just letting any rogue onto the territory who says they know her? Would a clanmate die because of a resource that was put to use outside the clan? Would the weakening of clan loyalty in some members cause the clan to fall to an attack? What if Bess got sick and that outside illness spread through the clan bc she wasn't quarantined?

It'd be wholly different if Bess was a known cat - if she had come to introduce herself to the clan and joined. But she didn't! And now Cedar is compounding that issue/worry by having his kids and himself sneak around and lie. When/if this comes out, I'm sure it won't end well.

[twola]

I love Arthur’s back..just wanna leave mark on it

Marked

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader  Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The morning light against your eyelids is what wakes you - the loss of warmth next you in the cot is what jolts you back into the land of the living.

You stretch your arms over your head, yawning as you try to work a kink from your shoulder. The worn blanket covering you slips downward, your bare breasts high and on display - there is no sheepishness on your part - no fear or awkwardness. Not in here, in the den of this canvas tent, separate from the world outside. As you rub at your eyes gently, you notice your lover standing opposite your cot, facing away from you, leaning over a barrel where his shaving kit is set up. He pulls the razor down his cheek, watching himself in the small circular mirror.

One of your hands unconsciously moves under the blanket to brush against your inner thigh - you gnaw on the inside your cheek slightly as the pads of your fingers traces over irritated skin - it was far too late after he had dived under your skirts for you to have the wherewithal to tell him that his stubble was rough and coarse against the soft skin near your core.

His pants and union suit bunch around his hips, the sleeves and his suspenders hanging down against his thighs. As you sit in the cot, silently watching him, the marks you left become clear.

Red-pink lines travel down the expanse of his pale back, from his shoulder blades, down, down to his tapered waist, fading out where his pants begin, slung low toward his hips.

Another swipe of the straight razor.

If you were to fan your fingers out, those lines would match perfectly. Your blunt nails dug into the planes of his back last night as he ground you into his cot, each thrust of his body into yours - each time you felt his cock fill you completely. Your lower lip is sore from biting it to try to keep yourself quiet. You suppose that the marks down his back are the only way you were able to keep quiet in the middle of camp last night.

“Finally up, sleepyhead?” He notices you sitting up in the mirror, his voice rough with disuse in the morning. His blue eyes are reflected back in the mirror, gazing upon you.

“Marked you up there, cowboy.” You smile as he puts the razor down and wipes the rest of the cream from his face. He turns around and steps closer, and you cannot help but to stare at the trail of dark hair from his navel disappearing beneath his undone pants.

He leans over, tips your chin up with one hand, and the other cups one of your bared breasts. He hovers an inch away from your mouth, licking his lips.

“Maybe I should return the favor.”

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

RAINSTORM SECRETS-DREW STARKEY

The downpour started just as the last scene of the day wrapped. It had been a grueling 14 hour shoot, but you’d stayed on set, touch ups and coffee runs keeping you busy. The sky opened up just as Drew stepped out of the trailer, the dim evening light making the rain seem even heavier.

“Looks like you’re stuck here,” Drew called to you, holding a hand over his face to shield himself from the rain.

You looked up from your phone, leaning against the small tent set up for the makeup team. “No kidding. My car’s parked halfway across the lot, and I’m not about to run in this.”

Drew jogged over, his hair already damp from the rain, and flashed that familiar, easy grin that always made your heart stutter a little. “Want a ride? My car’s closer.”

You hesitated. You and Drew had always been friendly, a teasing back and forth during touch ups, a shared laugh between takes but the idea of being alone with him outside of work felt different. Intimate. Dangerous.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin your car with all my gear.” You gestured to your overstuffed bag of brushes and products.

“I think my car can survive a little makeup kit,” he said, tilting his head toward the lot. “Come on. Unless you’d rather camp out here all night?”

“Fine,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and throwing your hoodie over your head. “But if your seat gets glitter on it, don’t blame me.”

Drew laughed, leading the way through the rain to his black SUV. By the time you reached it, both of you were soaked, water dripping from your hair and jackets. He unlocked the car, and you slid into the passenger seat, dropping your wet bag at your feet.

“Jesus, it’s freezing,” you muttered, rubbing your hands together as he started the engine and cranked up the heat.

Drew glanced at you, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Here.” He reached into the back seat, grabbing a dry hoodie and tossing it into your lap.

“Thanks,” you said, peeling off your soaked hoodie and slipping into his. The fabric was warm and soft, and it smelled like him, a mix of cologne and something faintly woodsy. You tried not to let it affect you, but the way Drew watched you out of the corner of his eye didn’t help.

“What?” you asked, catching his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, though his smirk said otherwise. “Just looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks burned. “Let’s just get out of here before this storm gets worse.”

He nodded, pulling out of the lot and onto the dark, rain soaked road. The sound of rain pelting the windshield filled the silence, and you stared out at the blurred lights of the city, trying to ignore the way Drew’s presence seemed to fill the small space.

“So, how long have you been doing this?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Makeup?” you said, glancing at him.

“Yeah. You’re good at it,” he added, his tone genuine.

“Thanks. I’ve been doing it for a few years now. Got my start on indie films and somehow ended up here.” You shrugged. “What about you? Did you always want to act?”

“Not always,” he admitted, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “But once I started, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

You nodded, the sincerity in his voice making you smile. “You’re good at it,” you said, echoing his earlier compliment.

“Thanks,” he said, glancing at you with a soft smile. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”

The car suddenly jolted as he hit a pothole, and you both laughed, the tension easing a little. But as the storm grew worse, the rain falling in heavy sheets, Drew slowed the car, pulling into the parking lot of a closed gas station.

“Storm’s too bad,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll wait it out.”

You sighed, leaning your head against the window. “Great. Stranded in the middle of nowhere with you. Just what I needed.”

Drew chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Admit it, you’ve always wanted to be stuck in a car with me.”

You gave him a withering look, though your lips twitched. “Yeah, sure. Totally on my bucket list.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, turning toward you, his voice softening. “I know I’m not that bad to be around.”

Your breath hitched at the way he was looking at you, his blue eyes intense and unwavering. The playful banter between you faded, replaced by a heavy, charged silence.

“Drew-”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his hand brushing against your cheek as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn’t, when you kissed him back, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, your fingers tangling in his hair as he leaned over the console, his body pressing against yours. The rain outside seemed to disappear, the world narrowing to just the two of you and the heat building between you.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

You shook your head, your lips finding his again. “Don’t stop.”

He groaned softly, his hands sliding down to your waist as he pulled you into his lap. The space was cramped, but neither of you cared, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his lips trailed down your neck.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he muttered, his hands slipping beneath the hoodie you wore, his hoodie, as his fingers skimmed over your skin.

You gasped at his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, the heat between you growing with every passing second.

The storm raged on outside, but inside the car, it was a different kind of storm, one you’d both been holding back for far too long.

The kiss between you and Drew deepened as the rain continued to pour outside, filling the car with a comforting hum. His hands were everywhere, caressing your waist, brushing against your ribs, as though memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. His warmth enveloped you, his scent, a mix of cologne and something distinctly him, distracting you from everything else.

You didn’t pull away this time. There was no hesitation, no second guessing. Just the urge to feel closer, to give in to the pull you’d felt between the two of you for so long.

Drew’s lips left yours, trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You let out a soft sigh, the sensation of his lips and hands sparking something inside you, something you couldn’t name but felt deep in your chest.

“Y/N,” he murmured, voice low and husky, his hands now at the hem of your shirt. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart beating so loudly you thought it might drown out everything else. The intensity in his gaze matched the intensity in your chest. You didn’t want to pull away. You didn’t want to stop.

His shirt came off first, tossed onto the floor of the car, and then it was your turn. His hands lingered on your skin, every touch sending sparks of electricity through you. There was something so vulnerable about the way he looked at you, but it wasn’t pity, it was desire, raw and unfiltered.

You leaned forward, kissing him again, desperate now, your hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair. Drew groaned at the feeling, his body pressing into yours, as though trying to get closer still. The confined space of the car no longer felt small; it felt intimate, like this moment was just for the two of you.

His lips trailed down your neck again, and you tilted your head back, giving him access to your skin. His kisses were gentle at first, teasing, but there was a hunger to them now, a desperate need for closeness that you could feel in every movement. His hand slid down your back, pulling you into his lap once again, this time with more urgency.

The rain outside drummed against the car, but inside, it was as though the world had disappeared. All that mattered was him. All that mattered was this moment.

Drew’s lips found yours again, more demanding now, his hands firm on your hips as he kissed you harder. Your body pressed against his, and you felt the heat rising between you, a tangible thing that threatened to consume you both. The atmosphere in the car felt charged, electric, and you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to leave.

And neither did he.