campfire books

aesthetics for the signs

aries: fairy lights, ripped fishnets, disco balls, neon signs, movie tickets, concerts, roller blading rinks, train tickets, listening to a good song for the first time, watching scary movies with friends, screaming until you lose your voice.

taurus: flushed cheeks, playing in the snow, staying up all night to talk to someone you like, caring for someone, hugs, travelling, the sound of a pen scratching against paper, twirling around in a pretty dress.

gemini: finishing a paper ten minutes before its due, sending a risky text, ripped skinny jeans, storm clouds, standing in the rain, screaming into your pillow, making out with someone for hours, blasting your music.

cancer: the colour blue, grocery shopping, holding hands, love confessions, cherry blossoms, sexual tension, making bad decisions, motorcycles, coffee shops, cotton candy, spicy food, sweet talking your way out of things.

leo: long eyelashes, dimples, the feeling of freedom, dancing without a care in the world, buying clothes without looking at the price, lattes, face masks, sharp eyeliner, waterfalls, smirking, making people jealous, blankets fresh out of the dryer.

virgo: campfires, stargazing, old books, rainy days, modern buildings, a steamed up mirror, the rooftop of a building, breathless laughter, the glow of your phone at night, dipping your feet into a swimming pool, a shy kiss on the cheek, glittery eyeshadow.

libra: having someone play with your hair, flirty texts, the colour pink, red roses, high heels, long hair blowing in the wind, hands on your thighs, scented candles, being complimented, kissing someone you like for the first time.

scorpio: spending all your money on concert tickets, bruised lips, getting drunk for the first time, pressed flowers, glitter, polaroids, red lipstick, laughing at 2am, whispering secrets, piercings, making eye contact with someone you like.

sagittarius: an adrenaline rush, ignoring texts, knee high socks, smashing a window, staying out until 5am, freckles, stickers, the colour yellow, cursive writing, museums, laughing at silly jokes, discussing conspiracy theories.

capricorn: city skylines, chocolate, red wine, being pampered, lace bras, silk robes, bubble baths, smelling flowers, bubblegum, piano music, rose petals on silk sheets, expensive perfume, driving down an empty highway at 3am.

aquarius: coloured hair, hot chocolate, a field of flowers, taking long showers, smiling until your cheeks hurt, drinking with friends, the sound of a movie quietly playing in the background as you fall asleep.

pisces: hickeys, ripped denim jackets, bumble bees, rain gently pattering against your window as you try to fall asleep, fluffy clouds, receipts, sunsets, biting your lips, messy eyeliner, discovering new places, scented candles.

Aesthetics For The Signs

aries: fairy lights, ripped fishnets, disco balls, neon signs, movie tickets, concerts, roller blading rinks, train tickets, listening to a good song for the first time, watching scary movies with friends, screaming until you lose your voice.

taurus: flushed cheeks, playing in the snow, staying up all night to talk to someone you like, caring for someone, hugs, travelling, the sound of a pen scratching against paper, twirling around in a pretty dress.

gemini: finishing a paper ten minutes before its due, sending a risky text, ripped skinny jeans, storm clouds, standing in the rain, screaming into your pillow, making out with someone for hours, blasting your music.

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When you come to the campfire without your bible and everyone stares at you, silently judging.

We need to remind ourselves that we are not a social club - we are the Church. Our community has to be more than just nice people behaving nicely together in nice coffee shops, discussing nice spiritual things. It’s been said that the unique thing about the Church is that it’s the only organization that exists primarily for the benefit of its NON-members.
—  Campfire Stories // Rend Collective
Five Things: Desert Oracle

The Desert Oracle is the aptly-coined “Voice of the Desert,” a pocket-sized field guide that recalls something of a mix between a FoxFire Book, the Farmer’s Almanac and Weekly World News. Ken Layne, writer, desert enthusiast and brains behind The Oracle, also leads Campfire Stories at our Palm Springs waypost every first Thursday of the month, where he regales eager listeners with tales of desert beasts and ancient legends. Gather round — next one’s September 7. In the meantime, a glimpse into the Desert Oracle’s library. 

Five Books In Every Desert Lover’s Library

By DESERT ORACLE

People have been writing about the desert since the days of Abraham, so there are plenty of books on the topic. If you demand great writing with your desert education, start with these five essential books. You can find used editions in many desert towns, or buy them at your local bookseller or national park gift shop.

The Desert
1901
by John C. Van Dyke

Desert Solitaire
1968
by Edward Abbey

Desert Wildlife
1961
by Edmund Jaeger

Land of Little Rain
1903
By Mary Austin

Desert Wildflowers
1978
by Edmund Jaeger

[Omegaverse AU] Scents Their Mates Would Have (BTS)

Requested by a lovely anon <3

*Don’t own the gif/s yo*

Author: Taebaby

NAMJOON 남준:  Musk, dark & spicy scents, rum, cinnamon, chocolate, patchouli or tobacco maybe

YOONGI 윤기: Cedar-wood, earth, leather, campfire, old books,heavy scents

HOSEOK 호석:  wine, chamomile, wisteria, pine, peppermint, fresh laundry

SEOKJIN 석진:  Lilac, fresh bread, ocean/sea breeze, sandalwood, light & fresh scents, maybe coffee

JIMIN 지민:  Lemon, green tea, new books, spring air, strawberries, vanilla maybe

TAEHYUNG 태형: Lavender, citrus, mint, fresh laundry, strawberries, chocolate, sweeter scents

JUNGKOOK 정국: Rain, coffee, camp fire, heavy vanilla, rose, tea, leather maybe

Inktober Day 9: The next morning I went to the cemetery.  I wanted to see Jim’s grave.  Lying across the grave was my sweater.  The End. -Alvin Schwartz

Camping

Originally posted by floating-flocks-of-candled-swans

Pairing: Fem!Reader x George Ryan Ross III

Request: No. Just always bored.

Warnings: NSFW || smut.

Masterlist: Here

There isn’t anything kinky or anything like foreplay. It’s just a lot of kissing and then really sweet sexy times with Ryro. Enjoy. xx


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Though rarely acknowledged, many of the men that drove cattle on the Chisholm Trail and gave rise to the iconic American figure, the cowboy, were black. Estimates of African-Americans on the trail range from twenty five percent to as many as three-fifths. Many were freed slaves who had come west with experience riding and working horses from plantations in the south.

The presence of these men of color was largely white washed by Hollywood and in the dime store novels that popularized the cowboy.  It was nice to see this history acknowledged at the Symphony in the Flint Hills. A young black cowboy from the area, Louverture “Lovie” Marable, greeted arriving guests, scholars spoke of the contributions of black cowboys in the programing preceding the Symphony, and one of the songs later played that night came from “Songs of the Cowboy,” a book of campfire lyrics complied by ranch hand Jack Thorp inspired by an encounter he had in New Mexico in 1899 with a group of black cowboys singing under the stars.  

Inktober Day 13: When the boy heard that, he got very scared.  But he thought, “It doesn’t know where I am.  It never will find me.” Then he heard the voice once more.  Only now it was closer. “Where is my to-o-o-o-o-e? It groaned.  The boy pulled the blankets over his head and closed his eyes.  "I’ll go to sleep,” he thought. “When I wake up it will be gone.” But soon he heard the back door open, and again he heard the voice.  "Where is my to-o-o-o-o-e? It groaned.  Then the boy heard footsteps move through the kitchen into the dining room, into the living room, into the front hall.  Then slowly they climbed the stairs.   Closer and closer they came.  Soon they were in the upstairs hall.  Now they were outside his door.  -Alvin Schwartz

anonymous asked:

I just had to put my not even eight week old puppy down. Mind doing literally anything comforting? Probably vague on what the reason for the comforting is, in case anyone else is feeling down. Preferably with companions from 3 and maybe Gob and Nova, if that's alright. Thanks for any consideration.

(I literally dropped everything I was doing to write this, I’m so sorry to hear about that, that’s really terrible. If you need anything else, please please message me! I might not be the best in a crisis, I deflect a lot of yucky emotions with humor, but I will lend an ear and hopefully make you feel a little better. I love you all and it kills me to think terrible things are happening in your lives. Jericho is excluded because he’s a straight up asshole)

Gob- He looks between the kid and the back room, where he knows Moriarty is counting caps. He sees the tears forming in 101’s eyes as he nervously wrings cloth around a glass, chewing on the inside of his lip, debating what he should do. Until he finally puts it down and reaches out to fold a hand over theirs. It’s perhaps more brash than anything he’s done, and it surprises them enough they jump slightly and almost pull their hand away from his. He squeezes gently until they relax again and stare up at him with red rimmed eyes. “It’s gonna be okay, kid,” he says softly, “Maybe not today, or even tomorrow but… it’ll be okay again.” He grabs a cold Nuka-Cola from under the bar and slides it towards them. He refuses any payment they try to offer.

Nova- She settles into the seat next to 101 in the back of the bar. It’s far secluded from the crowd, which was likely their intention, but she isn’t above invading their space when it’s clear they need someone to be near them. She takes a long drag of her cigarette and blows the smoke away from them, before settling her gaze back on the Vault dweller. Her painted lips pull into a small smile. “However hard it gets, there’s a place for you here.” She forces herself to bring her eyes up from their shoulder to their face. “Won’t let Moriarty run you off either. You need me or Gob or anyone… you come straight here, alright? Door’s always open for you.” Before she left, she took them by the cheek and kissed them against their temple, and wet her thumb with her tongue to wipe the lipstick smudge off their skin.

Butch- Five, ten; hell, even two years before, he would have made fun of Lone for getting upset about anything. But there’s no point to it now, and honestly, he’s a little scared of alienating the only person he’s got to watch his back who he can truly trust. So when he sees the way they’re hunched over at the edge of camp, he settles himself on the rock behind them. He tastes a fistful of hair and begins brushing through the clumps of dirt and dried blood with a pocket comb. They meekly attempt to protest, but he keeps a firm hold of them as he works. “Just hold still.” He brushes it away from their face so they have nothing to hide behind, and gathers it up with a hair tie. “You know I’ve got your back, yeah?” They try to turn their head and look at him, only for him to tug a little roughly on a clump of hair and force them forward again. “Tunnel Snakes always lookin’ out for each other. So if someone messes with you, they mess with me… And if somethin’ hurtin’ you, it’s hurtin’ me too. You need a little help carrying somethin’, you let me shoulder the weight with you. Understand?” They nod as he finishes up and slips down to sit beside them. “You’re not in this alone. Not anymore. We’re Tunnel Snakes.”

Charon- Something is bothering them, though he isn’t quite sure he grasps what that something is. It is undeniably something though. He approaches them from behind, as their shoulders are pinned to their ears and their stance is tense. He folds his arms across his chest and stops at their side. “Hey.” They glance at him a little warily. He hesitates a moment before awkwardly placing a hand on their shoulder. He doesn’t say much. He’s not sure what he could say. He’s not great at giving condolences and he sure as hell isn’t a very good shoulder to cry on. The best he can do is assure them that they’ve got someone by their side. He glances at them sidelong, and sees already the stark expression has softened. They lace a hand over his and it stays there for a few minutes before he’s released, and the heaviness he could feel weighing them down before has lifted somewhat.

Clover- If she’s learned anything from her years with Eulogy, it’s the near psychic sense for discerning people’s emotions. It was a necessity with him after all. She had to know how he felt before even he did, if she wanted to avoid his anger. She wraps her arms around their waist the moment she feels the unease, and pulls them onto a nearby sofa. She runs her fingers across their scalp and hums quietly, deep in her throat. She draws slow circles against their skin as she holds them against her. She doesn’t speak until they’re ready, and she won’t push hollow commiserations on them. Lone doesn’t seem too quick to launch into a heart to heart either. The two simply lay in the quiet of their room, silent but for Clover’s soft, slightly off key humming.

Fawkes- He sits beside the campfire with a book tucked in his lap, and offers no resistance when Lone leans up against his side, their head pressed to his arm and their body curled up beside his. The tome he reads aloud from is old, dating well before the war, and is so fragile, his giant fingers nearly shred it as he leafs through the pages. But it was Lone’s request, and he obliges. It alleviates the ache in their heart, or so he hopes. He reads until he feels them slump further against his side, and even then, he arranges them so they can use his lap as a pillow, and continues reading as the fire crackles itself into smoldering embers.

Sarge- As always, his words of comfort are a little loud and a little harsh. But Lone supposes there’s some comfort in having someone care enough to yell at them. “We all got sad times in our life soldier! But the key to living is pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and ya keep going! Give me a hoorah!” Lone smirks at him and offers him a half-hearted “Hoorah.” “I don’t think I heard you, soldier!” “Hoorah!” He hovers a little closer and pokes them in the shoulder, ordering, “Again!” “Hoorah!” “That’s the spirit! Now let’s go kill some commies! If that doesn’t get you out of the dumps, nothing will.”

Dogmeat- He sticks to 101 like velcro, barely a step behind wherever they moved in the house. He can obviously tell something is wrong, and although his skills to uplift them were somewhat limited, he was going to try never the less. He sits on the couch next to them, head in their lap, pensively lapping at the tips of their fingers with his warm tongue, nosing their hand until it rests between his ears. The only time he leaves their side is to go get his favorite toy and deposit it next to them before curling back up against them. It’s all he really has to give, but he’ll give anything to please them.