#strap in for leveling the most boring tank class in the game

[helladventurers]

i finally can make me a biblically accurate zooey in ffxiv..... the time has come, i finally have an excuse to binge the fuck out of paladin so I can wear it

[idolimagines]

My Boyfriend’s Brother (M)

PART 2 

Read part 1 here!

Genre: College au, romance, drama

Length: 3.8K

Warning: Will contain sexual scenes and violence in some chapters

“You may have grown up together, but you’re nothing like your brother.”

“I’ll see you in the common room,” Lucas added before bidding his brother goodbye and leaving the two of you as the content look on his face quickly disappeared into one of jealousy…

 You watched as he walked away, keeping a curious eye on him and the way he walked before Minho’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

“What class do you have next?”

You looked up to him, lost for words for a moment as thoughts of Lucas left your mind. “...I’m done for the day.” You recalled.

He looked at you with a surprised smile and squeezed your shoulder, “Do you want to come over then?”

~*~

There the two of you were, casually sitting on the large couch that rested in the basement of Minho’s frat house.

You had only been here one other time before when Minho had invited you to one of his frat parties, but now that the place wasn’t covered in trash and smelling of alcohol it resembled the remodeled game room it was supposed to be.

So you sat there, head rested against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder and cuddled with a blanket over your legs as the two of you watched some overdone action movie that Minho seemed to somehow enjoy.

Your eyes glazed over the large television screen with boredom as you watched the main character running as some cars blew up behind him.

After a few more minutes, your eyes began to waver as each second you would blink a little longer, falling into slumber before you felt a soft touch against your hair.

Upon the sudden touch, your eyes slowly fluttered open and Minho chuckled. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Didn’t realize you were a light sleeper.”

You picked your head up from his shoulder and rubbed your eyes a little before throwing your head back against the couch.

“Was the movie that boring to you?” Minho simply asked.

You tilted your head to him, noticing the upset look in his eyes. “No,” you lied with a convincing yawn. “I’m just really tired from school, that’s all.”

He nodded in response and ran his hand over your hair once more affectionately. “You’re so cute,” he admitted, and you smiled as he leaned in and suddenly kissed you.

His lips were soft against your own, moving in a slow tender motion as you reciprocated the action. You felt his free hand rub against your back, pulling you closer to him as the kiss deepened.

A small sigh escaped your lips as Minho placed a trail of kisses down your neck - each one becoming more heated as he sucked just above your collarbone.

You kept your eyes closed, delving into the seductive sensation until you felt his lips explore down a little further towards the cleavage that was slightly exposed from your tank top.

Before you knew it, your boyfriend’s fingers were fiddling with your bra strap and your eyes shot open. “Minho.” You stammered, causing his head to snap up.

“What baby?” He hummed just before bringing his lips back to yours.  

The kiss was rough this time and while his lips ravished yours you could feel his fingers successfully unhook your bra strap - causing you to pull away immediately.

“Minho!” You scolded with the loud smack of your lips parting.

Noticing this, he gazed at you, unsure of what to do as you looked at him with an uncomfortable expression. “What’s wrong?” He muttered.

You took a moment to pause, catching your breath as your hands went behind and hooked your strap for good. “...I’m not ready yet.”

“We can go to my room then,” he assured before attempting to kiss you once more - only for you to dodge it. “No, not for my first time.” You argued and he narrowed his brows.

“What do you mean babe? My roommate is out-” he tried to convince and instead you shook your head.

“I want it to be romantic and special,” you pleaded as he looked at you with desperate eyes. “Not here.”

With that, Minho swallowed hard as his jaw clenched before tearing his sight away from you. In that moment you suddenly felt guilty - almost as if it was your fault that he was in a slump of a mood now.

“Minho…” you mumbled but he shot up from his seat instead.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” He merely stated.

 Your eyes widened and before you knew it he was walking up the steps as you threw the blanket off and followed suit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, only filled with the faint sound of the radio playing as you looked out your window for most of it.

 Every once in a while you’d look to your boyfriend, who held a stern look as he kept his eyes on the road.

 And it wasn’t until he pulled up in front of your dorm that you two finally spoke.

“If you’re mad, just tell me.” You stated.

“I’m not mad,” he quickly answered and you rolled your eyes.

 “Whatever,” you snapped before getting out and closing the door behind you.

Watching you walk away, Minho took a deep sigh and slapped the steering wheel in frustration - regretting his selfish actions before eventually driving off.

 You placed your hands in the pockets of your jacket, covering you from the brisk wind of the night as you steadily walked up the steps towards your dorm.

 And it wasn’t until you entered your room that you saw Sana laying down in bed.

“Where we you?” She asked as you kicked off your shoes and jacket.

“Minho’s,” you simply answered.

 You spotted a thermometer on her bedside table, reminding you of her ill state before sitting at the edge of her mattress.

 “Oooh.” She cooed, and you laughed before shaking your head. “It’s not what you think,” you answered. “I think he’s upset with me.”

 Hearing this, her lips parted in awe. “Why?”

You sighed as you recalled the memory. “He wanted to take our relationship to the next level...and I said no.”

 “And he’s mad because of that?” She spat with a cough.

 “Yeah, he took me here right after,” you admitted, and she huffed the word “Jerk,” causing you to laugh.

 “Enough about my problems,” you muttered while placing a hand on her forehead. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

“Better than this morning,” she confirmed. “I took some medicine so now I’m just resting.”

 “Good,” you added while pinching her cheeks. “I can’t have my best friend feeling sick.”

 “I’ll get worse if you continue to grab my cheeks like this,” she playfully scolded before you finally let go. “What’s this?” You asked upon noticing a few candy wrappers along her blanket.

 “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Sana nonchalantly answered, and you sighed.

“Seriously? No wonder you’re sick.” You added, causing her to shrug as she played on her phone.

 “Hey, I don’t tell you how to live your life,” she said in a sass filled tone while you grouped all of the wrappers in one hand.

 “What do you want to eat? I’m getting you real food.” You asked, and her eyes lit up.

 “Ramen,” she answered with another cough. “And ice cream!”

 “Ice cream?” You asked with a cocked brow and she nodded.

 “Don’t judge.”

 “Okay fine, I’ll be right back.” You announced while placing your jacket back on and headed out.

 You made your way down the short line of pavement that led to the University convenient store nearby – heading straight down the isles as you searched for the items Sana sent you for.

 You searched through what seemed like an endless amount of ice cream and ended up picking a few that you thought she’d like before you heard the bell ring from the front door. Immediately hearing a bunch of ruckus as the group of people entered the small store.

 At first you attempted to ignore the loud bunch, not paying attention in the least as you continued your next search for ramen down another isle.

 But it wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice that you stopped your actions.

 “Isn’t that a lot of ice cream for one person?”

 Your eyes gazed up, looking at the man that stood in front of you. Lucas was standing there with a small smile, looking at you quizzically as he motioned towards the 6 different ice creams in your hand.

 “They’re not all for me,” you answered, and he let out a simple, “ah” in response.

 “Makes sense – I was wondering why you had strawberry.” He responded, and you looked down at the one in your hand.

 You suddenly remembered the time when he had brought you strawberry yogurt to your tutoring sessions back in the day and you had to break the news to him that you actually hated the flavor. The shock on his face was priceless, which was the reason you had remembered the faint memory so easily.

 “Yeah – it’s for a friend.” You answered just as someone called his name.

 “Lucas! Are you ready?” A friend of his called out from the front counter, causing the tall man to look his way. You noticed the large number of snacks and beer that his friend was buying, assuming maybe it was for a party or something.

 “Yeah,” he replied just before looking back to you again. “Guess I’ll see you later,” he bid with a smirk before heading off with his friend.

 You watched as Lucas and his equally as tall friend – who you later recognized to be Johnny from one of your classes leave as you walked up to the front counter with your goods.

 “Friends of yours?” The clerk asked, and you laughed in response.

 “Them? No.”

 ~*~

You twirled the pen in your hand slowly as you stared at the clock in front of you. It had been a quarter past 6 and you were beginning to think he wasn’t going to show up. “Five more minutes,” you thought to yourself. “I’ll give him five more minutes and then I’ll leave.”

 With a deep sigh you dragged your eyes off the clock and down to the stack of materials placed in front of you: numerous books, highlighters, and notecards ready to be used. As you sat there waiting, you then checked your phone.

 Aside from looking at it out of sheer boredom, you still felt the little light of hope within at the thought of unlocking it and seeing a text from Minho.

 By this time, it had already been two days since you last spoke and although you were hurt from the situation, you couldn’t help but feel the need to hear his voice – or at least see a text.

 But as you unlocked your phone and darted your sight to the notifications, you found nothing…

 You felt your heart sink at the sight, staring at it closely as if in disbelief before you suddenly heard a knock.

 Upon hearing the sound, you snapped your head up towards the door, greeted by a smiling Lucas.

 He was casually leaning against frame with his arms crossed – almost as if waiting to be granted permission to enter.

 “You looked stressed, so I thought I’d knock,” he simply stated while continuing in. With a quick glance to your phone once more you checked the time – brows knitted as you saw it was already 7:00.

 “You’re late.”

 “We said at about 6.”

 “Lucas it’s 7:00,” you huffed, and his eyes widened as he checked the clock for reassurance.

 “Sorry,” he replied as he came around and pulled the chair beside you. “We placed first, so the team wanted to celebrate.”

 “You could have told me.”

 “I don’t have your number.”

 “You used to.”

 “We weren’t exactly on speaking terms,” he blurted, and your expression turned stiff. The room went silent for a split second, leaving the two of you in an awkward state before you swallowed your feelings and took a deep breath and said: “…let’s start studying, shall we?”

 Instantly regretting his blunt remark, Lucas shut his eyes in guilt – wishing to rewind his moment of stupidity in bringing up a subject that was still so sore to the both of you.

 Your past with one another was treated like a taboo subject – similar in the way that sex is treated in modern day society. Your past friendship was still a uncomfortable subject for you and it only brought the overwhelming amount of feelings buried in the back of your mind to come to light once more.

 And you weren’t sure you were ready to face them.

 So, you changed the subject any chance you got – contrary to Lucas, who was more than willing to address the elephant in the room any chance he got.

 But after seeing the distressed look in your eyes, he knew tonight wasn’t the night to talk about such things, no. For that touchy subject was for another day when maybe, just maybe you would be fully ready to forgive him.

 And until then, he would wait.

  “Good luck, I can’t remember any of this shit,” he commented with a gruff and you snickered.

 “Did you make notecards?” You merely asked.

 “No,” he replied while leaning back into his chair, setting his hands behind his head in a state of relaxation.

 You sat there, not even pretending to be surprised by his laziness. “That’s why.”

 “They never helped,” Lucas argued.

 “Yes, they did. You would get A’s on your exams all the time.” You countered as you opened a textbook.

 “I don’t remember.” He lied through his teeth as the playfulness in his voice became prominent.

 “Yes, you do, I know how excited you were when we received our final grades and you finished with honors.”

 “And you ended up ten points higher than me,” Lucas admitted, and you laughed.

 “Ah so you do remember!” You scolded with a finger pointed straight at him. Your eagerness and heightened mood caught Lucas’ attention quickly, noting how pretty you looked as you smiled throughout the conversation.

 “Not as clearly as the day you came to the cafeteria crying about your first B,” he teased with a wicked smirk. “You were crying so much I thought something crazy had happened.”

 “It was crazy!” You argued, and he shook his head.

 “That’s nothing, wait till you get an F,” he casually remarked, and your mouth dropped.

 “Lucas!” You snapped, and he sat up straight in his seat as he looked at you.

 “What! I’m just saying getting a B is nothing to cry about.”

 “When you’re on scholarship it is,” you argued, and he frowned.

 “Pfft, crybaby.”

 “Um, if I correctly recall you cried like a newborn when our biology class took a fieldtrip to the greenhouse.”

 Lucas’ eyes grew wide and he pursed his lips as he suddenly recalled the painful memory. “I fell on a cactus.”

 “So?”

 “I had needles puncturing my jeans to my ass! I had to go to the hospital to have them removed.”

 “Crybaby,”

 “To make it even worse, it was a university hospital, so I had a crowd of students standing around my ass watching needles getting picked out.”

 You fell into a fit of laughter, not being able to control yourself as Lucas watched with a smile on his face.

 “Glad you found it funny,” Lucas huffed.

 “I needed a good laugh,” you admitted, and he glanced at you once more – this time more carefully as he debated on asking.

 “…You looked kind of down earlier,” he breathed with hesitation. “Anything wrong?”

 The sudden question of concern caused you to raise your brows as you glanced back. “Just going through something…”

 “Which is?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you blurted while letting your gaze fall to the floor.

 “I do.”

 “It’s about your brother,” you added with a sarcastic laugh, looking up just to see his reaction as you thought it’d be one of disinterest.

 But instead you looked up to meet his intense stare, noting the way he silently waited for you to continue the conversation. His gaze had caught you off guard for a moment, and instead of expecting to see him be uninterested in what you had to say, you found him to be completely absorbed as he stared at you with those dark brown eyes.

 And just by the way he looked at you had you at a loss for words as you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

 “Did he do something wrong?” Lucas’ deep voice proceeded to ask.

 You swallowed and felt the raw feeling of your throat along the back of your tongue before finally speaking up. “We’re just going through something right now and not really speaking that’s all.”

 Hearing this, Lucas desperately felt the urge to ask for more detail about the situation, dying to know exactly what you meant as a thousand questions popped in his mind.

 And although he wouldn’t admit it aloud – when it came to you, every detail mattered to him.

 But he knew better and decided to give you space.

 “He’ll come around, don’t worry.” He simply said, dropping the conversation despite his nosy desires.

 A small smile adorned your face, surprised by his response. “Wow, I never thought I’d be getting comforted by you,” you laughed.

 Lucas quirked his thick brows in playful offence, “What? I’m the nice guy in the family.”

 You scoffed at his remark, “Then what is your brother?”

 “A guy.”

 “Oh wow,” you huffed, causing Lucas to crack a smile.

 “I’m kidding, he’s great.” He added.

 His charming smile caught your attention and you found yourself admiring it a little longer than you probably should have – even causing you to curve your lips as well. From his smile you then noted his much more rugged appearance compared to his older brother, Minho, who always seemed to be more well-kept compared to Lucas.

 Minho always put effort into his looks while the younger seemed to be wearing whatever sweats he trained in, or on dressier days, he’d be wearing ripped jeans, t-shirts, and his usual messy hair.

 And as much as you loved a well-kept man, the sight of Lucas had you in awe.

 “Did you ever think that maybe he’s the good guy and you are the bad one?” You teased.

 He then cocked a thick brow, intrigued by your words, “If you think so then I’ll claim it…but you’d be surprised that not everyone falls for the hero.”

 Beneath the playfulness in his tone, you picked up something darker within his words, causing your smile to fade before attempting to save the conversation with a lighter twist. “That was deep,” you laugh with a pat to his shoulder.

 “Shut up,” he laughed before grabbing a notecard. “Let’s start studying.”

 “That’s what I’m supposed to say,” you stated, and he shot you a questionable look before you laughed and opened a textbook.

 The next two hours were spent reading definitions aloud and writing numerous terms on notecards with a few jokes thrown in every now and then. For Lucas it was hard to stay focused as he found himself paying more attention to you than his textbook. It would be a lie to say he didn’t miss moments like this with you. As, just like in the past the two of you would study together constantly.

 He would take notice in the way you would still crinkle your brows and bite your lip when you were focused, loving the way that you hadn’t changed even after all these years.

 “Lucas, did you understand that concept?” You would ask throughout, and he would simply reply, “No”, causing you to go over it with him once more.

 But what he would never tell you is that he understood the concept, every concept – and probably even mastered it before you did. Your childhood friendship had started out of one bad test grade he earned in grade school, but little did you know he was actually gifted academically.

 But he would never admit it, as that meant his precious time with you would be little to none if you knew the truth.

 And after another half hour, you concluded the tutoring session as it was late, and your strained eyes couldn’t take anymore studying.

 “I think we made a lot of progress,” you commented as you and Lucas packed up.

 “Thanks to you,” he smirked with a sigh of relief and you shook your head. “You did well too Lucas.”

 With a small smile he zipped up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, ready to leave as he was tired too.

 Lucas took one last look around the room as the thought of this being the last time he’ll get to be with you alone like this. He knew this was just a one-time thing where you were doing this out of kindness and afterwards, you two would go back to your separate lives just as you had been doing all these years.

 However, the small spark of hope beneath his chest burned with the need to ask to see you again – not for tutoring, but for lunch. He knew it was a long-shot and too soon to even ponder the idea but as impulsive as he was, he couldn’t help but at least attempt.

 “Y/N…” He called in a lower tone.

 “Yeah?” You asked, not looking up while stuffing the last of the textbooks in your bag.

 You heard footsteps as he suddenly came closer, his tall frame stepping just in front of you as he looked down nervously. “Y/N,” he softly called again, this time catching your attention as you looked up to meet his eyes.

 As you picked your head up, your eyes grew wide as he stared at you were met with that same look that always had you mesmerized. His gaze was intense – almost seductive in a way as his dark eyes casted down to your lips.

 However, you caught the hint of hesitation in his expression just as he opened his mouth to speak.

 “I know this may be too soon, but I couldn’t help but ask…” he started.

 But as if on que, your phone began to ring obnoxiously, ruining the moment as Lucas ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

 “Sorry,” you mumbled just as you were about to take it out and mute it for the time being.

 And as soon as you did, Lucas caught a glimpse of the caller I.D, his expression growing cold upon the sight as reality began to sink in.

 “Take the call,” he coldly instructed.

 “But you were saying something,” you countered, and he shook his head as if he didn’t want to talk anymore.

 “It’s fine,” he added. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

 You stood still, eyes darting between the phone and him as you hesitated on taking the call before finally answering it.

“Hello?” You answered to Minho just as Lucas turned around and started out for the door.

 He let his head hang low as the harsh reality felt like a stinging pain to his heart as after all, it’s his brother you were dating, not him.

[samanthasroberts]

5 Balls-Out Insane Competitions You Won’t Believe Are Real

Sports were born when a subset of humanity became obsessed with the question: “Who among us is the best at doing this arbitrary physical thing?” Extreme sports came to be when an even smaller, crazier sect asked: “How could we make this arbitrary physical thing as dangerous as possible so that some of us can finally be granted the sweet release of death?” Follow that path to its logical conclusion, and you get this shit:

#5. There Are People Who Drown Themselves For Fun

“Freediving” sounds like the kind of carefree sport the whole family could enjoy during a vacation to Hawaii. “Free” makes it sound like there’s not a lot of rules, so maybe it just involves flopping around in a pool? And the “winner” is whoever has the most fun? But we suppose they had to go with that name rather than the more accurate “competitive drowning.”

Motto: “If at first you don’t GLUB GLUB BLUB.”

Freedivers are all about diving as far down as they can, ever trying to beat the last great attempt. They don’t wear oxygen tanks — they voluntarily deal in apnea, the cessation of breath. They dive down either with their own power, aided by weights, or strapping themselves into a machine known as “no limits,” and come up at the last second with a balloon-style flotation device — basically an Opposite Day parachute.

These are people who have painstakingly taught themselves to survive up to 9 minutes, 24 seconds without air, and it is precisely as dangerous as it sounds: There are around 5,000 freedivers in the world, and an estimated 100 of them die every year. That’s 2 percent of your entire sport just up and dying on an annual basis, and the people who perish are not just overconfident rookies: In 2015, Natalia Molchanova, the greatest superstar of the sport, never surfaced from a freedive that she was doing just for shits and giggles.

At that depth, shits and giggles are both fatal.

“Now, hold on,” you’re surely saying. “If it’s just a contest to see who can hold their breath the longest, why not do it in a small tank of water, where they can easily sit up if they exceed their limits?” Oh, you naive fool. You’re still not getting it: It’s because freedivers are fucking crazy. Understand, the body changes in many ways when you go hundreds of feet deep with no air but what you hold in your body. In some competitions, half of the divers come up unconscious. A study of 57 freedivers in an eight-day competition saw a whopping 35 of them suffer from some “adverse event” or another due to the body freaking out because of the lack of air.

Which makes sense, as their body is all but completely failing on these dives. Like a robot running out of battery, the typical freediver’s heart slows down to just 14 beats per minute, as opposed to the normal human heartbeat of 60 to 100 beats per minute. People in a coma have a faster beat. You shouldn’t be able to maintain consciousness, let alone operate at that level. In fact, experts reportedly have little idea how 100 percent of the divers don’t wind up unconscious on these dives.

Yet they push on, despite — or because of — the insanely high mortality rate and the fact that science has no idea how they’re doing their thing.

#4. You Can Take A 30-Mile Swim In Some Of The Most Shark-Infested Waters In The World

If you’re a world-class swimmer wishing to join some elite company, you could try doing something difficult but boring, like swimming the English Channel. Just keep in mind that over the years more than 2,000 people have actually done it. But there’s another swim out there, less known but far more perilous. How perilous? Try “only five people have ever done it.”

And that’s five more than would have in a sane world.

The 30-mile swim between the Farallon Islands and San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge is 10 miles longer than the English Channel route, but that’s just part of its terrorizing charm. The course goes straight through an area called the Red Triangle, a fun area of the ocean with the greatest number of great white shark attacks on humans. Shockingly, this means that anyone stupid/courageous enough to attempt the Farallon-Golden Gate route risks having to cut their swim short for little things like, oh, suddenly noticing that a great white shark has started circling them.

Sharks are banned from all but the most exciting Olympic events.

But the sharks aren’t your real enemy — you’re far more likely to succumb to water that can get as chilly as 48 degrees, and if that doesn’t sound very cold to you, it’s because you’ve never been submerged in 48-degree water for hours. It’s cold enough to suck the heat out of the body so fast that you’ll go into shock and won’t be able to control your breathing. One early attempter’s body temperature got so low that, when his support ship fished him out, the nurse on scene initially declared him dead.

And then there’s the weather. The route has a portion nicknamed the Potato Patch, known for its unpredictable, huge swells. Riding the waves on the Potato Patch can be like getting tossed off a 10-story building (80 to 100 feet at their peak), and its many currents, shifts, and whirlpools can be like you’ve fallen into God’s washing machine during the spin cycle. That is what the Farallon-Golden Gate swimmers are trying to swim through … after already swimming for hours, after already having seen all of their limbs go numb from the freezing cold.

Actual frost zombies have refused to compete.

But hey, screw sharks, cold, and waves, right? Surely modern technology has plenty of wetsuit with cold repellents, shark repellents, and wave … repellents that enable a strong swimmer to power through the route? Well, they might … if it wasn’t for the fact that whatever maniac set the rules for the swim declared that to officially complete this route, you aren’t even allowed a wetsuit. You’ll be jumping in the freezing, watery sharknado wearing just a bathing suit, goggles, and a swimming cap. We’re kind of surprised they even allow that.

#3. There’s A 3,100-Mile Foot Race … All Around The Same Block

Really, this had to happen. Marathons and ultra-marathons are a thing, so of course someone keeps adding more and more “ultras” in there until you wind up with a 3,100-mile race some sad-sack sports addict is actually prepared to try to finish. That much is no surprise. What is surprising, however, is the precise nature of this race. You’d think that the longest foot race on the planet would be an epic course over several varied, marvelous countries, or at least a Forrest Gump-style, winding, coast-to-coast trek across America.

The scenery: spectacular. The food situation: complicated.

What you wouldn’t expect is a mind-numbing hamster wheel race around a single city block in New York. But that’s what the Self-Transcendence 3,100 Mile Race is all about, and that’s what the few dedicated super-runners willing to take part in the competition face: endless laps around a single block in a boring cityscape, on a ruthless concrete surface. For 52 days, their day starts at 6 a.m. They run (or walk) until midnight, trying their best to complete all the required miles before the time limit is up. Do the math, and that’s basically two marathons a day, every day, for almost two months.

So unless they’re willing to cut down on their daily six-hour break, there’s no fun with friends, no TV, no shopping, no video games, just monotonous running on the same stretch of dreary New York streets. And yeah, this isn’t even the interesting streets — the block is a boring-ass one in Jamaica, Queens, creating a course of a little under .55 miles. It’s like purgatory for runners.

Purgajoggy.

Some of the runners are in it just because they like to run. Most of them are disciples of the Bengali Guru Sri Chinmoy, and believe that part of spirituality is taking on seemingly impossible physical challenges. Regardless of their motivation, this race might not make headlines with crazy injuries or deaths, but it’s still pretty hard on the feet … literally. Runners go through a dozen pairs of shoes during the race, and because no shoe feels good for long on a two-marathons-per-day pace, they generally just give up and cut the toe area away, letting their toes enjoy the sunshine. As for the ones who don’t, well … one runner had to have all of his toenails removed, because it was either that or the toes as well. He took a little two-hour break, and then resumed his race.

Then there’s the matter of diet. The runners estimate they burn through 10,000 calories per day, so they need intensely calorie-rich foods to keep from withering away, so they pretty much need to be snacking all the time. Said snacks, by the way, range from simple apples and glasses of (non-alcoholic) beer to freaking sticks of butter.

“No time to stop and chew, just give it to me as a suppository.”

Still, with their shoes giving up under them and nourished by things that would down a lesser person, the runners blaze on. The race has taken place regardless of the conditions; one year, New York was suffering such an insane heat wave that the mayor declared a “heat emergency” and estimated there would be 140 heat-related deaths in the city. The race went on as planned, though presumably the participants had to ingest their butter from a cup.

#2. In One Desert Rally, Mad Max Comes To Life

The universe of Mad Max is one of those gloriously madcap fictional worlds that are gorgeous to look at but might be somewhat unpleasant to actually live in. Real-life limitations and common sense render it borderline impossible to re-create Fury Road-style massive, deadly car chases where crazy people ride awesome custom vehicles through never-ending deserts. That is, unless you count the Dakar Rally, which just so happens to be that exact thing.

Dakar is Senegal’s word for “vulture chow.”

The 3,000-mile Dakar Rally used to be between Paris and Dakar, Senegal, but had to be moved to South America in 2009 because of terrorism threats. You can take part with pretty much any land vehicle you fancy, from trucks and normal cars to motorcycles and quads. It’s a two-week off-road race with speeds averaging 100 miles per hour, and unholy insanity is pretty much its status quo. Since its inception in 1978, the Dakar Rally has claimed over 50 lives.

The ways it can kill your ass are varied and plentiful: People have died of heat stroke, heart attacks, and thirst, or a combination of all three plus terror caused by simply getting lost. Spectators aren’t any safer: In this year’s rally, 10 people were injured right off the bat when an out-of-control car went careening into the stands. That’s right: This is a race that isn’t even safe to watch.

The photographer is this picture’s only confirmed survivor.

#1. You Can Spend A Week Running Through The Deadliest Jungle In The World

It’s called the Jungle Marathon, which is a much more descriptive name than “freediving” but still undersells exactly what madness is taking place. For one thing, a marathon is 26.2 miles — this one is a seven-day, 137-mile trek. So, more than five of those. The “jungle” part is accurate, though — you’re doing the whole jaunt through the Amazon, the long-reigning champion in the “green hell” weight class of geographical hellholes.

The knee-high swamp wins in the “brown-hell” class.

So, in this particular competition, your race is not so much for the prize as it is for getting to the goal in one piece, and your most dangerous opponent is Mother Nature herself. Participants face challenges like the Jaguar Alley, a portion of the race that goes through known jaguar territory, where runners are advised to avoid running too far away from each other and armed guards stand watch at night (yes, of course they stay overnight in the area. How else could the jaguars get a sporting chance?) To date, no one has been eaten by a jaguar (as far as we know), but multiple people have seen them, and more than one competitor has reported being stalked by them.

The race directors do their best to make sure the journey is safe-ish, but as shitty as humanly possible; after all, this is an extreme sports event, so things tend to — and are meant to — leave sports competition territory and veer screaming into disaster-movie land. Not that they have to try too hard. The most recurring attacks from the local fauna come from wasps, which pretty much attack every single runner in the race. It’s not unheard of for a runner to limp on with 18 stingers sticking out of them.

Other wildlife that takes little to no shit from human passersby include supersized ants, ticks, snakes, and venomous scorpions. There have even been multiple reports of freaking stingray attacks (yes, you’re splashing through water in many parts of the race). Or maybe nothing will sting or bite you, and you just have to escape an angry wild pig by climbing up a tree. Did we mention that many trees in the Amazon are poisonous and can cause numbness just from touching them? Good luck running with a body you can no longer feel, buster! On the other hand, not feeling your legs might be a good thing, because the jungle does a person’s body absolutely no favors.

“Why, peeling and discarding excess toes doesn’t hurt at all!”

And then there’s the heat and humidity, which by itself would make the run a nightmare even if all other conditions were ideal. You don’t get help, either — competitors have to haul their own gear throughout the race. As such, the completion rate of the Jungle Marathon is predictably low: In 2012, 60 people started the race. Only 11 managed to finish it in full. And that’s picking from a group of people already willing to travel around the world to compete in such an event in the first place — the craziest of the crazy, in other words.

We like to imagine the other 49 people took two steps into the jungle, stopped, blinked, and said, “Wait, what the fuck am I doing?”

For as long as competitions have been a thing, there have been those who just need to make them infinitely more painful to perform. See what we mean in The 6 Most Terrifying Historical Car Races and 5 Bizarrely Masochistic Races People Run For ‘Fun’.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/5-balls-out-insane-competitions-you-wont-believe-are-real/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/10/27/5-balls-out-insane-competitions-you-wont-believe-are-real/

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Fiery tech: Elon Musk thrusts civilian flamethrowers into the spotlight

Visit Now - https://zeroviral.com/fiery-tech-elon-musk-thrusts-civilian-flamethrowers-into-the-spotlight/

Fiery tech: Elon Musk thrusts civilian flamethrowers into the spotlight

The Boring Company ‘Not a Flamethrower’ (Screenshot from www.boringcompany.com)

The U.S. military decided flamethrowers were not a good idea, but civilians feel otherwise and have bought 20,000 of them from one of Elon Musk’s firms.

Musk’s The Boring Company began selling its “Not a Flamethrower” device for $500 with a cap of 20,000 earlier this year. In a matter of days, the devices sold out, bringing in $10 million for The Boring Company.

Cue plenty of people searching the internet trying to find spare flamethrowers. No doubt some headed over to eBay where one Musk flamethrower was reportedly posted with a $25,000 pricetag.

But Musk is the new kid on the flamethrower block. The Boring Company may have sold out of flamethrowers, but there are other vendors out there touting the devices for heavy-duty work such as clearing vegetation. The military has been using flame throwers since World War II and still uses them for non-combat purposes.

In fact, the truck-mounted, powerful, flame shooting beast they use is available to civilians too.

Who Can Buy Them?

Flamethrowers are not regulated like other weapons such as guns.

GLOCK MAKES MILITARY-GRADE PISTOL AVAILABLE TO CIVILIANS

To purchase the Musk flamethrowers there were no age qualifications. There were no background checks to identify potential risks such as a history of criminal activity. 

So How Will 20,000 Civilians Use The Musk Flamethrowers?

Fun seems to be the primary purpose. Musk marketed them as big boys’ toys. The Boring Company’s device is set to deliver this Spring. They will no doubt be the star attraction at BBQs in every state this summer. However, the flamethrower has its critics. Citing safety concerns, particularly in areas at risk of wildfire, one California lawmaker has already voiced his opposition��to the technology.

Flamethrowers are used for practical purposes. On farms and ranches, for example, folks use them to clear fields by burning unwanted brush. Fire departments also use them for controlled burns to help prevent forest fires or to stop fires from spreading.

In some scenarios like clearing a field, drip torches may be far more effective and cheaper – but arguably far less fun.

Here are some of the important things to know about flamethrowers.

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How Does The Military Use Flamethrowers?

The U.S. Military voluntarily stopped using flamethrowers for combat purposes in 1978.

Flamethrowers were, and remain, controversial military weapons – the wounds they inflict are horrific.

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Flamethrower weapons were used for combat purposes in the World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam for purposes like destroying bunkers and vehicles. The fear of being burned alive made them a potent psychological weapon too, capable of instilling terror in enemy combatants.

The M1 and the enhanced M1A1 flamethrower weapons were used back in World War II.

These days, some flamethrowers can shoot fire more than twice as far and incinerate targets in just seconds.

Modern flamethrowers can be vehicle mounted or carried like a backpack. And instead of combat, the military uses flamethrowers these days for crucial force protection and other tasks.

Military’s Ground Torch System

(Credit: Gelfire Systems)

Gelfire Systems Terra Torch is a monster flamethrower. The Army uses it and has dubbed it the “Ground Torch System.”

The Ground Torch System is truck-mounted flame throwing system designed to deliver a controlled burn. In addition to pickup trucks, it can be mounted on things like trailers, boats and more.

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Flaming gel shoots out of the Ground Torch System and blankets the area with flames.

At a designated target, the GFS Terra Torch shoots ignited gelled fuel as far as 75 feet.

Similar to its practical uses on the homeland, it can be used to remove potentially obstructive vegetation along key and alternate supply routes and even canals.

But it can be very handy to reduce security risks for American forces too.

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Flamethrowers Help Keep Soldiers Safe

The military uses flamethrowers to destroy concealed dangerous improvised explosive devices (IEDs) by enemy combatants – making travel much safer. Hidden trip wires are another threat that the flames can be used to eliminate.

Clearing brush around forward operating bases so that enemy combatants can’t use vegetation to conceal themselves and approach to attack is another key use. If flamethrowers incinerate the vegetation, then enemy snipers also can’t use it to hide.

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The same concept applies to convoy routes. By clearing the vegetation, it removes places where enemy combatants can hide and launch an ambush.

The Army uses them to reduce the threat from wildfires as well. In Alaska, for example, the Army uses flamethrowers to help protect communities from wildfires that could ignite from the use of military weapon ranges and training areas.

The X15

ThrowFlame is another player in the flamethrower market. Their X15 can shoot flames about 50 feet and retails from $1,599.

How does it work? In simplest terms, there is a backpack with a tank of fuel. According to the company, it can hold about 3 gallons of fuel. The backpack has a hose connected to it. The user wields the hose to shoot and direct fire.

One option is to use a napalm mix and it can yield “wow factor” results. Yes, this is the same napalm that looks cool in video games, but in real life is a horrid weapon of war with cruel, gruesome impact – so be very careful with it if you go that route.

Keep It Fun by Using Your Noggin

Hoisting a tank filled with fuel on your back, strapping in and igniting fire is not exactly danger free for you or anyone around you. In fact, the military provides thorough training before soldiers wield their flamethrowers.

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Factors like atmospheric conditions, fuel and fuel mixtures are just a few things that professionals know can impact how the flamethrower operates.

No one ever sets out to light themselves on fire, but it does happen even to professionals. And burns are a horrible injuries. They can be tough to treat and can leave you scarred for life.

Whether you are planning to use a heavy-duty flamethrower to clear brush or astound your friends with the Boring Company’s offering, call your local fire department for advice and they can help you keep it safe – therefore keeping it fun. They can recommend simple steps you can take to prevent burns – like wearing thick wool socks up to your knees and fire resistant clothes.

So if you are determined to use a flamethrower, it can be a blast. Just keep it fun by doing it in a smart, cautious way.

Allison Barrie is a defense specialist with experience in more than 70 countries who consults at the highest levels of defense and national security, a lawyer with four postgraduate degrees, and author of the definitive guide, Future Weapons: Access Granted, on sale in 30 countries.  Barrie hosts the new hit podcast “Tactical Talk”  where she gives listeners direct access to the most fascinating Special Operations warriors each week and to find out more about the FOX Firepower host and columnist you can click here or follow her on Twitter @allison_barrie and Instagram @allisonbarriehq.