#prepper gear

[prepper-in-the-woods]

ESEE 6 Unboxing and First Impressions: The Toughest Knife You'll Ever Own

[military1st]

Hazard 4 Poncho Villa

Hazard 4 Poncho Villa is a game-changer: a techy upgrade to the classic military poncho. Made from a unique, water-resistant, breathable fabric, it has a huge hood to keep the rain out of your face and all the seams sealed tight to keep your bone dry without overheating.

It can also fold up into a little tent in a pinch, perfect for unexpected downpours. Plus, it stuffs right into its own pocket for easy storage – genius!

Hazard 4 Poncho Villa might be just what your next adventure needs!

Find out more at Military 1st online store.

Enjoy free UK delivery and returns! Swift delivery to Ireland, the US, Australia, and across Europe.

[alphacrone]

i don’t WANT to live off grid i don’t WANT to have to homestead i don’t WANT to have to buy a generator and a water filter and stock up on canned goods for the next crisis i want to be able to rely on my community and my government during hardships but apparently that’s not a viable option anymore

[apocalypse-lover]

[crazydiscostu]

Sandberg Survivor Lantern 1000

The Sandberg Survivor Lantern 10000 is a multi-functional gadget that caters to outdoor enthusiasts and those who prioritize preparedness in unpredictable situations. As an all-in-one device, it combines the functionalities of a powerful lantern, a flashlight, a power bank, a Bluetooth speaker, and a DAB/FM radio. It is designed for reliability and endurance, especially in rugged environments.…

[natinalpartisan]

Survival Gear Essentials: Building Your Prepper Arsenal with Tactical Tools

Are you prepared for any emergency or disaster? Discover the essential survival gear you need to build a robust prepper arsenal with tactical tools. This comprehensive guide highlights the must-have items for every survivalist, ensuring you're equipped for any situation. From durable knives and multi-purpose tools to versatile shelters and advanced communication devices, we cover it all. Learn about the latest innovations in emergency preparedness, wilderness survival, and self-reliance. Whether you're an outdoor enthusiast, a prepper, or someone concerned about potential disruptions, this guide will help you navigate through challenging times with confidence. Gear up, stay prepared, and safeguard yourself and your loved ones with these tactical tools.

[koreessentials]

KORE ESSENTIALS Tactical Gun Belt

KORE Essentials Tactical & Leather Gun Belts are the Best-Fitting, Most Comfortable Concealed Carry Belts you'll ever wear! A track sewn into the back of our belts gives you 40+ micro positions to adjust with so you get a perfect fit - every time. Our proprietary Power-Core™ center is totally supportive and virtually indestructible. Kore EDC belts (1.5” wide) fit any waist from 24" up to 44” & 54” (EXL Tactical Belts to 72”). One Year Warranty & 30 Day MBG. Thanks to NY Prepper for the awesome review.  Visit - http://www.KoreEssentials.com

[pricegouge]

Have you ever watched the movie don’t breathe? Imagine reader breaking into the 141 guys house thinking it’ll be an easy robbery😭

Oh, I had too much fun with this lmao.

cw: poly!141, gn!reader, horror elements, kidnapping, reader is a cat burglar, spoilers for Don't Breathe, I guess? Abrupt ending

They weren't supposed to be home.

You'd been so careful, watching for weeks - months, mapping out their unpredictable schedule obsessively, finding rhyme and reason where you were first convinced there were none. But desperation drove innovation, and soon you'd found yourself running proper work sheets dedicated to each of them, cross referencing between them obsessively until you'd found a few hard and fast rules - minimal, but workable. Enough to have you slipping confidently past their high end security system in the early evening of a quiet Tuesday night.

Fuckin' Tuesdays. You should have known better; nothing good ever happens on a Tuesday.

It's hard to say where you'd miscalculated. Perhaps an error in your extrapolation of the little data you'd collected, just because they had always been gone for days on end each time they packed up their obscenely big SUV in the past didn't mean they always would. Maybe before that, when you'd decided the unassuming, but tightly secured house across town should be your next target after little more than some whispered gossip at the grocery store. ("Four incomes, and living in a place like this? I've seen the way they shop. Prepper types. Bet that house is insulated with cash.") Probably, it was earlier still, when your life had first started unfolding in a direction that often had you sneaking through windows and pawning gold lockets engraved with the names of loved ones you'd never known.

When you'd first heard the thud of car doors outside, you'd laughed to yourself a bit deliriously, thinking the only thing you were likely to make it out of this pickle with was a nice, new pair of matching silver bracelets. Now, watching through the slats of the cheap closet door as the biggest man you've ever seen in your life (Simon, as your brief stint as a PI had told you, though it's hard to recognize him now beneath the hard mask he has on) begins to undress for a shower, the pit of dread in your stomach sinks lower with each knife he pulls from the concealed folds of his damn tac gear and you know you'll be lucky to make it out of this place in cuffs.

The air is stifling in your little closet space, growing more so with every minute that passes as the growing humidity seeps into the unfinished wood of the door. The material blooms in the heat, the musty smell growing strong enough to override the strange mix of expensive cologne and cheap five in one body wash which adorn the shelf currently digging into your shoulder blade. It's hard to keep your breaths shallow in your panic, but you manage, jaw hinged wide and tongue pressed to the bottom of your mouth to avoid any latent nose whistles, or the wet sound of your saliva. Minutes pass. The man before you finally seems to run out of weapons and armor to remove and pulls his shirt up over his head, taking the skull mask off with it and your breath wheezes ever so slightly at the sight.

It's not a shock that he's big and mean, but the severity of it all takes you by surprise. Criss-crossed in corded muscles and scars alike, Simon is somehow more frightening now than he was before and there's no helping the loud sound you make when you swallow back your fear.

When his head whips around, it nearly startles a shriek from you, but you seal your lips tight when his gaze lands on the window, kitty corner to your hiding place. Still in his boots, you expect his step to ring ominously when he paces closer, but Simon moves with lethal grace, silent as the grave. You didn't even realize he had grabbed a knife until it glints in the streetlight glow, light speckled and refracted through the obfuscatory, pebbled window cling. Your breath stills, Simon's eyes narrow as he cranks the window open wider, confusion and apprehension evident. You're on the second story so no doubt he wonders how on earth he heard someone outside -

"LT, ye in h -?" The question cuts off with a low whistle and Simon looks like he's visibly fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Nothin' you 'aven't seen before, sergeant."

"Nothin' ah wouldn't mind seein' again." Johnny, one with the mohawk, counters. You'd never heard him speak before and the accent throws you briefly. He's dressed much like Simon had been, decked out in the kind of tac gear you've only ever seen in movies. Just your fucking luck. He sidles up behind the bigger man, hooking his chin over Simon's shoulder "What're ye doin'?"

"Thought I 'eard somethin'."

Johnny hums, distracted. His palm slides down the swell of Simon's stomach, fingers dipping just slightly under his waist band. "Well, when yer done bein' all paranoid, we should stop wastin' this wa'er."

Simon scoffs but follows easily enough after a final sweep of the street below. The two move together with distracting ease, the sight of their thickly muscled bodies sliding together as they finish undressing getting your breathing labored for a whole new reason, though you know better than to lose too much focus. You wait until they tuck themselves into the shower, the curtain bulging in places as it tries to keep them both hidden away.

The door creaks a bit as you slink out, but a well timed gasped from the Scot covers it and you suppress a relieved sigh, darting down the hallway on silent feet after a quick check reveals a clear path. At the top of the stairs, you stop and listen for movement below, barreling on before you can hesitate too much when you hear voices ringing from the kitchen and know you have a real shot of slipping out the front.

You've trained for moments like this, tiptoeing up and down your own stairs at home, balance beam precise, steps perfectly placed on the center support to avoid creaks. You've never had to use your skill before, always so careful to slip in and out when no one's home. It was a matter of time, you knew, but you can't believe your luck that it's paid off now of all times, in a house full of four extremely large men, all likely some sort of military as you're rapidly inferring.

The landing on the first floor is ill-guarded. You duck behind the dining table as quickly as possible and cast around for a better hiding place, thanking whatever god might be listening to thieves like you for older model homes. An open floor layout would see you dead right now, probably.

It goes against every instinct in your body to take a moment and collect your bearings but you force yourself into stillness, taking stock of your position before moving forward. On the other side of the wall to your right, the front door holds the key to your freedom. Before you, the hallway stretches toward the downstairs bath and the master bedroom, both of which have a window which will do in a pinch. But on the left, with a doorway which overlooks the corner you would need to pass to get to either, the kitchen houses the two remaining men - John and Kyle - who are currently talking animatedly about the mission they'd just been on. One of them, voice whiskey dark and gravel thick, recounts the frightened look on some poor sod's face right before he'd blown it clean off and the other hoots with laughter, diving into a tale of his own.

You don't listen much after that, ears ringing with panic. It makes it hard to gauge how much noise you make as you shift forward, peering through the rungs of the seat backs into the kitchen to check the angle of their view. They keep talking so you slink forward more, and more, until you're sure you have a shot.

But when you step forward into the open corner, your foot catches on the leg of a chair and the men fall silent as if drags across the floor.

Eyes locked on the kitchen, you don't take note of the direction which you're backing toward and suppress a curse when your hands find the wall of the hallway. You debate diving forward into the living room for all of two seconds before, in the kitchen, stools drag across the floor in an eerie echo of your own blunder, and you shuffle down the hall, thankful for the carpeting muffling your clumsy steps.

You're aiming for the bathroom, but you open the first door your hand falls on.

Cold, damp air greets you as you duck through the door, shutting it as quietly as you can manage, even forcing yourself to stay put as you slowly rotate the knob back into place to avoid the latch clunking into the strike plate. Straining your ears over the general hum of the basement appliances below, you hear the men grumbling in the dining room, pacing back and forth as they try to figure out the source of the noise. You slink back as they draw closer, walking sideways down the stairs with your eyes locked on the door above. The light's on, blessedly, dim bulb painting the cobwebs overhead yellow and amber. It's strange how proper fear reprioritizes such silly things as arachnophobia.

One of the the men - the same gruff voice from before - tells the other to check on the lovers and you sag in relief, assuming they'll head upstairs to see how the two men in the shower are doing -

But then the doorknob is turning again, and you're casting about for a place to hide when you finally take in your surroundings properly, your eyes falling on the cage and the two girls within as your breath stutters out and you truly start to hyperventilate. They watch you with owlish eyes, holding their fingers over their mouths in an attempt to keep you quiet. There's no need for that, but you watch raptly as they point to one of those narrow, high basement windows on the far wall. You nod, stumbling down the remaining steps, only to draw short when the door opens and a soft gasp tells you you've been spotted.

"The fuck -?" Kyle hisses and you panic, lunging behind a storage shelf and rifling around for a weapon as he thunders down the stairs. You settle on an old broom handle, wood dry and coarse in your palm. Kyle laughs when you spin around the shelf to meet him, but it's not him you aim at, arm arching high to smash the bulb. One of the girls shrieks, Kyle grunts when you jab at him, the end of your handle landing hard in his gut, unprotected in his blindness. He yanks it from you, splinters catching in your palm but you don't stop to acknowledge the pain. Eyes adjusting to the dark, you set your sights beyond him to the stairs and slink around him.

You know he hears you when you pass but he doesn't follow. You're confused until what little light you had goes out and you look back behind you to find the window covered, the basement now nothing but an inky darkness you can't navigate.

Overhead, the basement door creaks open again and the other man - John, you now figure - grunts in confusion before flicking the light switch a few times. "Alright down there, sergeant?" He calls, and Kyle's voice is much closer than you'd anticipated when he responds

"Cap, bring the goggs. Got a fun game for us."

[prepper-in-the-woods]

Mini bugout bag.

[military1st]

Hazard 4 HardPoint Gear Rails

Enhance the versatility of your Hazard 4 shell packs, such as the Pillbox, with the HardPoint Gear Rails!

Designed for seamless integration with your pack, these rails allow you to securely strap down a variety of equipment and accessories and come with metric and imperial rulers for easy measurements on the go.

Moreover, they can be spray-painted to match your desired colour scheme.

Find out more at Military 1st online store.

Enjoy free UK delivery and returns! Swift delivery to Ireland, the US, Australia, and across Europe.

[a-d-nox]

the root chakra and whether i believe you could survive an apocalypse

the root chakra is telling of our survival instincts and what we need to survive.

2 (the high priestess): you saw the end coming but likely want nothing to do with long term living in a world without life and only death. you probably are a prepper though.

3 (the empress): it's pretty unlikely you will live - you are too reliant on others providing for you and likely would miss the conveniences of the modern world.

4 (the emperor): 100% is going to live - this person saw it coming and was preparing for a long time (mentally, physically, etc). they don't have interest in a commune either or rather they would never be dependent on others to survive - they would probably become a leader in an apocalypse.

media representation: any lead character in a post-apocalyptic movie / tv show

5 (the hierophant): dooms-dayer - 100% percent would pray on those who are scared and convince them that you have minimal ways to survive most of which will involve aiding them. they are the type to dictate to others what they need to be done but won't get their own hands dirty. they have zero issues turning religion into a way of life and claiming that current passages were warning them all along - they definitely would result to implementing scare tactics.

media representation: david in the last of us

6 (the lovers): reliant on others for survival. they aren't likely to last long in that regard but also they are likely prone to depression and would become existentialistic.

7 (the charioteer): their survival depends on whether or not they have survival gear - if they don't have a good baseline, they are likely going to be the first to go. they do make good nomads though so long as they do not depend on motorways too early into the apocalypse.

8 (strength): they start out strong then end up giving up. they can be prone to getting hurt too so it is likely they will succumb to infection - perhaps consider shaping up your first aid and herbal knowledge base.

9 (the hermit): the hermit himself was a man of the wilderness - he disappeared on his own and survived on his own. these people are likely to do the same. very little will impend them they just have to be of the mindset they can do it.

media representation: the tv show alone

10 (wheel of fortune): this is the person who just survives based off of dumb luck sometimes these people have really really bad luck though.

11 (justice): this is a practical individual - who knows how to use their resources. unfortunately, they are rather high maintenance so they might be unhappy in a post-apocalyptic world.

media representation: american horror stories: apocalypse (s8)

12 (the hanged man): nope 100% wouldn't make it - probably would be the one to want to loot and take from stores then get hurt in the process because they aren't aggressive enough.

13 (death): they bounce back all the time, so i wouldn't be surprised if they just keep coming back from almost dying.

media representation: joel in the last of us

14 (temperance): they would be great at moderation/rationing their supplies, but they can experience exposure to the elements that nearly kills them if not kills them.

15 (the devil): nope, they are too dependent on the modern world and likely couldn't adjust to new horrors of an apocalyptic world.

16 (the tower): i mean they are preppers and i can see them being capable and durable, but they are accident prone and can have a horrible death if not careful.

17 (the star): absolutely not - these people are quick to give up and feel hopeless in a post-apocalyptic world. they are also prone to being overly exposed to the elements.

18 (the moon): i feel like they could survive but the question is whether or not they could bear being alone with themselves... being alone makes you face all the shadows of the self. i don't feel that they would do well in a group dynamic as they would clash with the different personalities.

19 (the sun): oop these people dip so hard. they don't care what it takes to survive they simply will.

20 (judgment): simply yes. they are very capable of remaking a life in a world they no longer recognize.

21 (the world): definitely. this is a bad ass placement - they come out on top every single time. they are often the last man standing in a survival situation.

22 (the fool): they lack awareness and it tends to be their downfall. also they take too many risks and in a survival situation, you can't simply "wing it".

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next. if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

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© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[fredwkong]

Virgo Season: Vincent

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Vincent slammed the button to close them.

Just down the hall from the elevator, he’d been able to see the door to his room, surrounded by a bunch of the freaks. Men in leather and rubber, or just rainbow underwear, all standing around casually, as if it was normal for degenerates to congregate at the door to a normal man’s room.

Vincent knew he was one of the last. Almost every man in the Astra Hotel had joined the freakshow. It was too bad Vincent’d had to fly down from Colorado, or he would have brought some of the guns from his bunker. At least then he’d be able to defend himself properly.

As a keen survivalist and doomsday prepper, Vincent had always known this day would come. The freaks and commy liberals were probably using some technology to assimilate everyone. That was why none of Vincent’s stuff was in his room. As soon as the weirdos had shown up, Vincent had put it all in his rental car for his own safety.

It was definitely time to go now. Vincent would go jump in his car, drive to some motel a hundred miles away, and wait until his flight home. While he was there, he could warn people. Post on one of the forums, tell people to stay far away from the Astra Hotel and all the men who had once been pillars of their communities.

All he had to do was get out of the lobby.

As the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, Vincent looked up and down the hall carefully. No one to be seen. The freaks were probably busy with some kind of orgy. He stepped out cautiously, keeping his scrawny middle-aged body as small as possible.

He came to a T intersection. He could have sworn that the way to the foyer was a straight hallway from the elevator. Still, Vincent picked the turn that he was pretty sure led in the direction of the doors.

He came to another T. Picked another direction. A third. A fourth. Even though he had turned a different way each time, Vincent found himself back in front of the elevator again, in an identical hallway.

As he continued to walk down indistinguishable hallways, losing his sense of place for the first time in decades, Vincent began to hyperventilate. They’d gotten him. When could it have happened? He hadn’t been eating in the dining hall for weeks, concerned there might be chemicals in the food. He’d never so much as touched one of the freaks. He couldn’t think of anything they could have done that would have induced this kind of mental break.

But then, he thought, maybe it wasn’t a recent event. Weird shit had been happening since the first day of the conference. That was it! The commies must have known Vincent was a threat months ago. Maybe the whole conference had been a sham, just to get him. He might have been pumped full of hallucinogens for a month or more now, being triggered into seeing all these freaks every day to break his spirit.

But then how could he escape? Vincent turned yet another one of the infinite corners and finally saw something different. A few stiff foyer chairs sat in a small alcove in the hallway, and across one of the chairs was some abandoned gear. Pleather chaps, a jockstrap, sweaty socks.

Under any other circumstances, Vincent would have been disgusted at the idea that flashed across his head, but he was desperate. Obviously, whoever had caught him could influence his brainwaves to make him see all this disgusting, horny shit. He should pretend to have been brainwashed like everyone else. If he could act the part right, maybe his captors would let him free and he could go home!

But he had to play the part. As if transfixed, Vincent stared theatrically at the gear for a moment, then started to edge towards it. He had to pretend that he was just a bit intrigued.

Getting a little closer, Vincent started to strip off his shirt, careful to make it seem as if he hadn’t realised what he was doing. The cold air of the lobby was chilly on his scrawny chest, but Vincent resisted the urge to shiver. Anyway, his lower body was feeling uncomfortably warm. He stripped off his pants. Much better.

He had edged all the way up to the chair now. With a start, Vincent realised that he was naked. He was better at this acting shit than he’d thought. Gingerly, he picked up the jockstrap. He’d never worn anything like this in his life. Slowly, with careful and deliberate movements, as if he was in a trance, Vincent stepped into one strap, and then the other.

When he pulled it up his legs, Vincent felt a sudden rush. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing past the dizziness. He opened his eyes and looked down at the jock, fit snugly over his cock and balls as if it was made for them. It made him look… good.

Vincent wasn’t used to looking good, but he realised as he looked down at his body that he had a bit of a tan. The skinny look was working for him. And despite his age, nothing was saggy.

It wasn’t hard for Vincent to make a show of checking himself out and feeling up his body. He was almost feeling excited to pull up the pants, but he knew it was just that he was really into character.

The feel of the shiny pleather chaps was incredible. Vincent didn’t know why he’d spent decades focussing on hard-wearing, cheap clothes when this stuff was available. He was careful to act it out, but it wasn’t too hard to moan a bit at the sound of the zipper, to shudder as he slipped them on his toned legs. He felt his cock chub up, starting to create a wet spot in his jock.

As he tucked his feet into the stirrups and zipped up the pants, Vincent took a moment to appreciate his lithe young body. He was never gonna be a huge guy, and he didn’t want to be. He was happy with his modest, lickable muscles and flexible joints.

Lickable? Vincent didn’t know why he’d thought that. He didn’t want anyone licking his muscles. His cock pulsed at the thought, though, and he gasped.

It was just that he was getting really into character, he reasoned. It was like having a different persona. It was just until he was out of this simulation, and then he’d go back to normal. Maybe he could call this new guy Vinny, to separate him better.

Yeah, Vinny thought. Just for now, he would really embrace being Vinny. Vinny was one of the freaks, down to fuck like a gay rabbit. Vinny was the kind of guy who wore chaps and leaked precum from his thick Latin cock into a slutty jockstrap. Vinny didn’t think about government conspiracies or any of that shit. Vinny didn’t think much at all.

Vinny paused halfway through sniffing his unwashed armpit. There was still a pair of someone’s sweaty socks left on the chair, and Vinny knew that his character would be kind of a stink pig. If he wanted to really prove that he was corrupted, like all the other guys in the Astra Hotel, he would have to prove that he really loved to sniff another man’s smelly socks.

Was it still acting when Vinny greedily snatched the socks and sat down on the carpeted floor? From the first sniff, Vinny was in heaven. The socks were ripe, like they had been worn for a couple of days, and Vinny’s mouth watered at the scent. He felt himself getting harder and harder as he sniffed and sucked, feeling the sweat drip down his body.

Had there been another reason he’d been doing this? Vinny felt like he was forgetting something. No, it was pretty normal for him to lie down in public and rub his cock through his jock, especially at the Astra. Vinny felt another guy running his hands through Vinny’s perfect brown curls, so Vinny opened his pretty mouth and let the man slip his cock between Vinny’s lips.

It was a revelation to smell and taste a cheesy cock and sweaty balls, fresh from the source. Vinny ran his tongue under the man’s foreskin, moaning around him. The guy thrust deeper, and the sensation of a big cock forcing its way into his throat had Vinny cumming right through his jock. He knew that there would be a pearly stain forming on it.

As he took the cock even deeper, Vinny felt whoever was throatfucking him lean over further and start to lick up his load. Vinny felt his spent cock struggling to get hard.

Then the cock in his throat pulsed once, twice, and Vinny felt the load flow into his stomach. It felt different than all the others he’d taken. Thick, syrupy. It made Vinny feel warm inside. As the man pulled out, Vinny watched a drop of thick amber cum spill from his Black cock.

“Dan,” the hulking Black man introduced himself, spitting Vinny’s cum into his own mouth. The taste was good, but not as good as Dan’s load had been. Vinny wanted more.

“I’m Vinny. Can I lick your feet, Sir?” Vinny's mouth was watering.

Dan chuckled. “I think you’ll make a good addition to the group, Vinny,” he rumbled.

Click here to see all of Virgo Season.

If you feel inspired, write a story set at the Astra Hotel and post it @ me to join in. Help me celebrate my birthday by turning more conference attendees into geared up gay kinksters.

[willfulscarlet]

Assorted Arrowclan headcanons of variable relation to canon, vol 1:

Ollie takes his survivalist shit extremely seriously - not in a prepper ‘six months of canned peaches’ way, but if any of the arrowfam are teleported to a desert island/the Jurassic/an alien planet/etc, they have the skills to survive and even to put batboys to shame. Mia was not terribly enthused to learn flint-knapping, but even on a normal patrol, fixing a broken arrow with a quickly knapped bit of broken glass is a useful skill.

Chilli became Ollie’s comfort food of choice because of Roy, and the cornbread he learned to make growing up on the reservation.

They’re all casually musical. Only Dinah and Roy are fully professional quality - Canary is of course Canary, and at least one of Roy’s cover IDs is a session drummer separate from his time in Great Frog - but the rest are talented amateurs. Star City citizens can tell if it’s a quiet night on patrol by the way they start harmonising Bohemian Rhapsody as they go. For a week after Hal brings Ollie quantum ghost hyperchillies from sector 1337, Roy and Mia sing Ring of Fire every time Ollie gets near them.

The Roy Harper Group Home for Neglected Sidekicks is vastly more successful than the Roy Harper Titans Academy (though to be fair, he’s alive to influence setup and is aiming for wildly different targets to headmistress Kori. But also….) Grant is an enthusiastic mainstay of cookouts and official Big Brother to the brood, several of whom get adopted into the JSA. Jason is perpetually confused.

(this leads to, when Ollie is being especially Ollie, a 21-year old Mia declaring she needs an adult and looking to Roy as the responsible one. Which causes perturbations, mostly in Roy’s psyche)

Between her early home life, living on the streets, assorted heroism-related absences, her school getting blown up and her involuntary sabbatical courtesy of Waller, Mia’s had about a year and a half of high school. It’s something she’s intensely insecure about, especially around her Titans team.

Lian was meant to give back her Legion Flight Ring before she went after Ollie and Connor. And she did! She just stole Saturn Girl’s ring on her way through the portal. This will cause problems for people that aren’t Lian.

Connor is welcome anywhere, anywhen. He’s got the only functioning ‘tact and diplomacy’ brain cell in the family.

Ollie is banned from Twitter. Roy, Mia and the Queen Industries PR department all owe Oracle a kidney apiece for ensuring he remains banned.

Connor’s mom is an old hippie and lives on a commune just outside of Metropolis. They grow weed that could knock out Superman. Mia isn’t allowed to make brownies with Moonday ever again.

Several leaguers and quadruple the number of supervillains have nightmares about the first Sin-Lian-Emi teamup. Some things are just unfair.

By the same token, Bruce and Ollie have explicitly barred Steph and Mia from ever working together again. They pay even less attention to this pronouncement than their mentors expected. Possibly it has encouraged them.

Roy’s favourite shot: tripping Wally with an arrow through his shoelaces. He first manages it when they’re both 14, but the pinnacle is when he repeats it when they’re in their mid-30s and Wally is having yet another Speedforce-related Capital-C Crisis. Roy saving the universe through the medium of teenage pranks is not something he ever lets Wally live down. There’s a display in the Flash Museum and everything.

Mia, recognising Ollie’s habit of stranding himself on Starfish Island every time the wind changes, has buried several caches of clothes, survival gear and rations around the island. Just because he has a Robinson Crusoe fetish doesn’t mean she can’t be comfortable in board shorts while he ‘reconnects’.

[homemadesterekpie]

a bit embarrassed to share this but yall wanna know the scenario i think about to fall asleep every single day?

i think about Stiles and Derek during a frozen apocalypse, walking through the snow in full gear and sometimes they have a big wolf dog walking alongside them.

sometimes they’re just the two of them. they usually have a sled they’re pulling together by ropes tied at the waist and its filled with the stuff they accumulated over their years of survival together.

Stiles is usually a were himself in those scenarios. Derek having turned him a long time ago when life on earth became impossible to withstand as human.

they’ve lost everyone and everything but they’re still together and somehow they go on. they walk the frozen wastelands the earth has become together and survive.

i usually listen to an asmr video of a crackling fire with raging blizzard sounds before falling asleep too and its the perfect soundtrack for my scenario.

sometimes they reach a cabin they find and the previous occupants had been preppers or something similar so Stiles and Derek stay there for a while. settling down in front of a nice fire and maybe making love for the first time in a while.

that’s usually all i come up with and by then i’ve been on the verge of sleep for a while so i put my earbuds away and settle to sleep.

[darkmaga-returns]

Organization may not seem like an important aspect of prepping, but you need to organize your survival stockpile and the rest of your home if you want to be an efficient prepper.

This ensures that when SHTF, you can easily grab supplies or survival gear when you need them without wasting time rummaging through a messy drawer. (h/t to TheSurvivalMom.com)

Categorize your emergency supplies

If you're overwhelmed with organizing your home and preps, start by making a list of where your food stockpile, stored water and other preps are located.

Next, try to organize closets or your stockroom using these eight general categories:

Clothing, such as extra clothes for bug-out bags and protective gear (work gloves, neon yellow safety vest, etc.)

Emergency kit food, such as energy bars or MREs (meals, ready-to-eat)

Emergency light sources, such as candles, flashlights, light sticks, headlamps, etc.

Energy sources, such as batteries, battery packs and solar chargers

First aid kits and other medical supplies

General survival gear, such as paracord, multitools, etc.

Outdoor and camping supplies, such as mess kits

Water purification

After unpacking everything in a drawer or the closet, you can decide how to store them according to the categories. Each prepper's categories might be different, but the important thing is to gather all items in one place so you can make an inventory and start sorting.

Once you store all items in bins or their respective packaging or boxes, stack them properly so you can easily see all the labels.

If you have young children, store their bug-out bags or camping gear on hooks at their eye level.