#gifts for the outdoorsman

[travelbasscase]

dead poets society is a great movie and all

but i cannot understand people who read Henry David Thoreau and don't immediately go "what a load of excrement".

he was not a gifted writer. he was fluent in purple prose (that quote about wanting to live deliberately and suck out the marrow of life notwithstanding). he was not an outdoorsman, he lived in his mom's backyard. he's like rocky from the jeeves and wooster story, the deadbeat who lives in the woods. for pete's sake he claimed to excel at real estate because he imagined himself living in his neighbors' houses!

henry david thoreau is probably one of the worst transcendentalists. i say probably because he's the only one i'm familiar with thanks to my high school english class (taught by a teacher who was great except for his love of HDT. he had a thoreau quote tatted on his arm. why). i'm trying to keep an open mind about the others.

[dumbdogdoodles]

Cool dude

Gift for the outdoorsman fox @/voshuli on twitter

[gt-ambi]

Greater and More Terrible

On a quest to slay a malevolent witch, a knight of the realm goes missing. Fearful of what fate may have befallen the knight, his squire, Elliott, sets off into the witch's domain in search of his master. The young man soon comes face to face with the witch herself and falls victim to a powerful curse. Reduced to less than half a foot tall and imprisoned in the witch's cabin, can Elliott find a way to break the curse and escape? Or will he meet his end and disappear without a trace in the shadowed depths of the forest the witch calls home?

Masterpost

Preface

Hello all! This is my first foray into the Tumblr g/t community, though I've been lurking here for a few years. I'm excited (although a bit nervous) to finally be posting something. I have a few other story ideas that I'm working on here and there, and I can't promise any kind of consistent update schedule, but regardless, my number one goal is to tell a decent story, so I hope you enjoy! I welcome any feedback, comments, criticisms, etc.

Chapter One: Alone

In which Elliott makes one brave, somewhat questionable decision and a few less brave, definitely questionable decisions. Running blindly through the forest is probably a fine thing to do, right? And what's that saying - always trust strangers? I think that's how it goes, anyway. *Note* - there's no g/t in the story yet, but there will be! I just gotta cook a little, first.

CW: General Fear, Pain, Embarrassment, Poor Survival Skills, and a Squirrel-Related Inciting Incident

Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

Word Count: 3,479

The food would last another day – maybe two, if Elliott was careful with it. After that, he would be in trouble. He wasn’t any kind of outdoorsman, and he was sure that a novice trying to hunt or forage in the witch’s woods might as well be asking to meet the gods of death. As the name suggested, a witch of great power and ill repute had supposedly claimed the forest as her territory, and Elliott didn’t want to risk drawing her attention.

If it came down to it, he supposed there was always the food set aside for Sir Geoffrey. On the other hand, if the knight came back and found that his squire had stolen from his pack… Elliott shuddered at the thought. That wasn’t an option.

He is going to come back, isn’t he?

It wasn’t the first time he’d had the thought since Sir Geoffrey left him here four days ago, in the clearing where they had set up their camp. The first day had been almost nice, aside from the general anxiety of being alone in a supposedly cursed (or haunted, depending on who you asked) forest. Days apart from Sir Geoffrey were a rare gift—a break from the insults and the so-called training that left Elliott with bruises more than anything else.

The second day, the peace of solitude gave way to the unease of isolation, but Elliott hadn’t been worried about Sir Geoffrey. It only made sense that finding the witch’s lair and slaying her would take more than a day, even after leaving behind the “dead weight”, as Sir Geoffrey had so kindly phrased it.

On the third day, as morning settled into afternoon with no sign of the night, the thought tickled the back of Elliott’s mind for the first time. Is Sir Geoffrey all right? He tried to push it down, to tell himself it was an irrational question. Of course, Sir Geoffrey was all right—he was a knight of the realm, a champion of the people, a vanquisher of evil! And yet, despite his efforts, the worry wormed its way deep into Elliott’s thoughts, repeating again and again through the rest of the day, until he dozed off into fitful sleep that night.

This morning, Elliott had been torn from slumber by horrible, shrill chittering. He woke with a start, sure that some awful beast of the haunted (or cursed) forest was descending to take his life. In his tired haze, he groped for his nearby walking stick—the closest thing he had to a weapon. Armed as well as he could be, he sprang to his feet, ready to fight for his life.

There was no monster to slay, no magical creature to fend off. The raucous noise came from a half-dozen squirrels fighting over, around, and in Elliott’s pack. He stared at them, almost disappointed, until one of them popped up over the lip of the pack with a chunk of bread. Then, in a horrible flash, Elliott realized they had been fighting over his food. He charged at the rodents, screaming and waving his stick wildly.

The squirrels scattered, but the damage had already been done. The rations that were supposed to last him another week had been ravaged. Elliott salvaged everything he could, but what hadn’t been eaten outright was largely inedible, trampled in the dirt or torn to shreds and covered in fur.

Elliott’s chewed on his lower lip as he considered the predicament. His leg bounced nervously. He already wasn’t thrilled about being in the witch’s forest, but he had taken some solace in the assurance of the camp—if nothing else, he had a tent to sleep in, and food to eat. But now, the camp didn’t seem like such a haven.

Elliott was once again keenly aware that the forest penned him in on all sides. The ancient trees loomed at the edge of the clearing like giants standing at attention. Their broad branches hung heavy with leaves and cast dark shadows on the forest floor. Elliott’s view of the autumn sky was reduced to a blue circle high above him and whatever flecks he could spy through the shifting red-and-gold canopy. Any other direction he looked, all he could see was the forest.

Surrounded by the sea of trees, low on food, and with no sign of Sir Geoffrey, Elliott suddenly felt very small. That was hardly new – even at eighteen years old, he stood only five-foot-four, and he had a young face. When combined with his baggy tunic, which he’d owned since he was fifteen and still thought he would grow into it, Elliott appeared younger and smaller than he was, and people often treated him as less than significant. But where people were might be rude, or even malicious, the forest felt hungry. Elliott didn’t feel denigrated or offended—he felt hunted.

“Okay,” he said aloud, as if breaking the silence would ease the panic rising in his throat. “What options do I have?” He would make a list, that’s what he’d do. Lists were good. Lists made order out of chaos. Lists let you look objectively at a situation. A list would help him find the right course of action.

“Option one: starve to death.”

No! Idiot! He shook his head. Not an option. Try again.

“Option one: stay here and keep waiting. It’s not like I have no food left. Maybe I can stick it out for a while longer. I mean, Sir Geoffrey could be on his way back right now, for all I know.”

Assuming he’s coming back at all, his brain added helpfully. He tried to ignore it, but it had a point. If Elliott waited, and Sir Geoffrey didn’t come back, then he’d be in a worse situation than before.

“Option two,” he continued. “Try to get out of the forest. There’s that village we passed before—if I can make it there, then I can resupply and…” He trailed off. And what? He asked himself. Come back and wait some more? That wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, if Sir Geoffrey was coming back, it would probably be soon. If he wasn’t coming back, then he was either in serious trouble, or he was dead—and the more time passed, the more likely it was to be the second possibility. So that wasn’t an option either, which only left…

“Option three.” Elliott’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He didn’t want to say it. If he said it, it was real. If it was real, he’d have to do it. He really wished he didn’t have to do it.

“Option three,” he repeated. “Go looking for Sir Geoffrey myself.” It was a horrible idea. Elliott wouldn’t stand a chance against anything that Sir Geoffrey couldn’t handle. What’s more, if the knight returned to camp while he was away, Elliott wasn’t certain that Sir Geoffrey would wait for him to return. Even so, Elliott had a responsibility to uphold. If Sir Geoffrey might be in trouble, Elliott was honor-bound to at least try to help him.

Elliott groaned loudly and started to gather his things. Sure, he was probably walking straight into certain death, but he might as well be prepared in case he wasn’t. He couldn’t carry everything, though. He’d have to make some choices. The food would come with him, of course, both his own and Sir Geoffrey’s. The tent would have to stay, and so would one of the bedrolls—trying to strap both to his pack threw off his balance. His walking stick was invaluable, as it would at least give him a chance to try and protect himself. The cookware was too heavy and took up too much space, so it had to stay as well. The rest of the space in his pack was claimed by the tinderbox, an extra water skin, and the emergency supplies—bandages and such.

When he was done, Elliott slung the heavy, wood-framed bag onto his shoulders and picked up his stick. He stood at the edge of camp and looked out into the forest, at the gap in the trees where he had last seen Sir Geoffrey.

Is this really a good idea? Elliott thought. Part of him wanted nothing more than to turn around, go back to the tent, and pretend like nothing was happening. No, he decided, this is definitely not a good idea. But I don’t have a choice. He gritted his teeth. He could do this. He had to do this. He took a deep breath and, on shaking legs, strode away from the camp, into the depths of the forest.

~~~

A few hours later, Elliott found himself deeply regretting his choice. The gnarled, twisting branches of ancient trees reached toward him from every angle. They caught and tugged at his clothing and pack as though trying to pull them into their embrace. Though Elliott knew the sun must be nearing its zenith, the shadows seemed darker than ever, and heavy as pitch where they settled in the brush. The undergrowth hissed with the passage of dozens—no, hundreds, or even thousands!—of unseen creatures. In Elliott’s mind’s eye, each rustle marked a monster fouler than the last.

His breath hitched painfully in his chest. His aching eyes begged him to blink. His knees threatened to give out from beneath him. He couldn’t stop himself from trembling. Even so, he kept moving.

This is what a knight must do, he thought. A knight must not quail in the face of their fears. He repeated it over and over, clinging to the thought like flotsam after a shipwreck. It bobbed and tipped in the sea of Elliott’s fear. If it sank, there would be nothing keeping Elliott apart from the great, dark terror below—the truth he was doing his best to ignore. The truth that however awful the forest was, the witch, greater and more terrible than anything in her dread domain, was waiting at the end of Elliott’s quest.

He stopped briefly, giving into some of his body’s demands. He leaned heavily on his walking stick, blinked the tears from his eyes and shifted his pack to sit more comfortably on his shoulders. When he was ready to move again, he looked up.

Something looked back at him.

A pair of predatory eyes, pale green tinged with yellow, gleamed dimly from within the brush. Elliott’s instinct took over; almost before he knew what was happening, he was running. The branches which had tugged at him before now struck him as he rushed past, carving bright, hot lines across his face. He threw his free arm up to take the worst of it. It cost him his vision, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care where he was going as long as he escaped whatever lurked the darkness.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans for Elliott that day. At that moment, his foot landed wrong. Caught in the thicket at full speed, he pitched forward with a crack. Blinding pain shot through his lower leg. His shoulder slammed into the trunk of a tree and he caromed off it, crashing to the ground and rolling through the brush. It almost slowed his momentum enough to keep him from going over the edge. Almost.

The half-second of freefall nearly stopped Elliott’s heart. He landed hard on sloped ground, finding no reprieve from his agony as he continued to roll, now careening down the side of the steep hill. The stones and vegetation littering the hill did little to slow him. Every bump sent waves of pain through his body, radiating out from his leg. It was less painful when he rolled over top of his pack, but only just. The objects inside rattled and the wooden frame creaked ominously. His walking stick caught fast on something and was torn from his hand.

Elliott tucked his head to his chest. It was all he could do. Tears streamed down his face. He was dimly aware that he was screaming. Gods, please, he thought desperately. Please save me. Please let it stop.

As if in answer to his prayers, the base of the hill appeared beneath Elliott. The slope flattened, suddenly and jarringly, to level ground, and Elliott came to a shuddering stop on his side.

His head spun. His ears rang. His eyes and throat burned. His leg throbbed with pain as bad as he had ever felt. Every inch of his body hurt. His breathing was ragged, and his heart pounded as though it were trying to break through his ribs.

The outside world was lost to Elliott—his body’s misery commanded his attention. Time was likewise a mystery. He didn’t know how long he lay on the forest floor, wracked with pain. It might have been mere moments. It felt like hours.

After some time, the pain began to subside. Elliott’s breath steadied. It wasn’t so bad anymore. Even the stabbing agony in his leg had dulled to a sharp ache.

“Are you all right?”

Elliott flinched at the unfamiliar voice. He hadn’t realized he was no longer alone. Who were they? How long had they been there? Elliott stiffly uncurled and raised his head.

A woman crouched at Elliott’s side, brows deeply furrowed over amber eyes filled with concern. One hand rested on Elliott’s knee. The woman appeared to be around thirty, though life had apparently spared her the common ravages of disease and injury, as her smooth, olive skin bore no scars that Elliott could see, pox or otherwise. Her thick, dark hair was swept to one side and curled past her shoulders. The sleeves of her simple, cream-colored blouse were pushed up to her elbows, and mud stained her deep green skirt at the knees.

“Are you all right?” The woman asked again. She spoke softly, but her voice was steady and strong, and it flowed like warm honey. It might just have been the relief of seeing another person for the first time in days, but Elliott found something about her voice reassuring.

“Ah, y-yes,” Elliott stammered. He scrambled to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg, and looked himself over. A few cuts here and there, a few bruises, and of course, his leg still hurt, but aside from that (and his fresh coating of dirt and leaves), he was basically intact. “I’m all right, I think. Mostly. That is, I’m more or less all right. Still in one piece, anyway.” He mentally kicked himself. Stop rambling! “Thank you for asking,” he finished lamely.

The woman stood as well. To Elliott’s surprise, she was a few inches shorter than him. He didn’t often meet many people who were. “I’m glad to hear it,” the woman said with a smile. “That was a nasty fall.”

Elliott’s face flushed, and the tips of his ears burned. “Oh. You… you saw that?” It was one embarrassment after another.

“I heard it from the trail,” she said, and pointed away from the hill. Beyond the trees, a narrow path of worn dirt wound through the forest. A lidded wicker handbasket sat on the side of the path. “It was a bit of a shock at first,” the woman continued. Her smile grew slightly mischievous. “I was worried there was a banshee haunting the woods. Of course, banshees don’t make so much noise outside of the screaming, so I realized that couldn’t be it and came to take a look.”

Elliott’s flush deepened at the joke. Gods above, she must think I’m an absolute idiot. “It seemed worse in the moment,” he said by way of an explanation. “Really, I’m just grateful I didn’t get more badly injured.”

“Small blessings,” the woman said. Her eyes sparkled like she was holding back laughter.

What was funny about that? Elliott wondered. The thought was quickly pushed aside by a sudden realization. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve been so rude! I haven’t introduced myself yet.” He brushed the front of his clothes as best as he could and gave the woman a small bow. “Elliott Weathersby, at your service, ma’am.”

The woman shook her head. “If you’ve been rude, then so have I. Please, call me Laurel. No need for the ‘ma’am’, either. I’m no more a lady than I am a king. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Elliott.

“The pleasure is mine, m—” Elliott caught himself. “Laurel,” he corrected, somewhat sheepishly.

This time, Laurel did laugh. Elliott could tell it wasn’t mean-spirited, but his meager pride felt the blow anyway. He felt foolish a lot of the time, but right now, he may as well have been a court jester.

“Well,” Laurel said, “now that we’ve officially met each other, I have to ask—how did you end up in a heap at the bottom of a hill this deep in the forest, anyway?” She looked bemused. “I don’t usually see anyone out here at all, let alone in the…” She tilted her head and waved a hand vaguely in his direction. “…state you seem to have found yourself in.

Elliott scratched the back of his head and glanced away. “It’s a bit of a long story,” he said, determined to not appear more foolish than he already did. “To put it briefly, I’m looking for my traveling companion. He went off on his own a few days ago, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Laurel frowned. “Rather inconsiderate of him to wander off like that. What does he look like? It’s possible we’ve crossed paths.”

“You would probably know if you had seen him. He’s a knight, after all.”

If Elliott had been more alert, less weary, or less distracted by his lingering aches and pains, he might have noticed the momentary pause before Laurel responded. He might have heard the slight change in the tone of her voice as she asked, “A knight?” He might have remembered Sir Geoffrey’s warnings to be wary while in the woods.

But he wasn’t. And he didn’t.

“Right,” he nodded. “Armor, sword, steed, all of it. The very image of chivalry.”

Laurel folded her arms. “Except for the part where he left you alone in the woods.”

“No, no, that’s different!” Elliott assured her. “He has a very important job to do. I’m just a squire, and a poor one at that. I would have just been in the way, so it was for the best.”

“Hm.” Laurel didn’t seem particularly assuaged by the explanation. “In any case, I haven’t seen any knights. That being said, I did find a horse wandering in the forest yesterday. Could it be your errant knight’s?”

Elliott’s stomach dropped. He tried to stay calm. Maybe it was just a coincidence. “Was it a white mare?” he asked. “Did the saddle pad have crests of roosters on either side?”

“It was a white mare, yes, but she didn’t have any kind of tack on when I found her.”

Elliott’s concern grew. “None at all? No saddle, no reins, no bit or bridle?” He could feel his worries rising, like a pot about to boil over. “Did she have any distinctive markings, or a brand, or anything like that?

“I’m not sure…” Laurel tapped her chin and thought for a moment. She snapped her fingers. “How about this? My home isn’t far from here. Why don’t you just come with me and see her for yourself.”

Elliott nodded. “I would appreciate that very much, thank you.” The sense of relief that had been growing over the course of the conversation had all but shattered. His mind raced, conjuring up all the most horrible, gruesome things that might have happened. The only thing keeping his anxiety from becoming panic was the possibility that it was a different horse.

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” Laurel said. She walked back toward the path. “Follow me.”

At the side of the path, Laurel stooped to pick up her basket. “I can carry that,” Elliott blurted. Laurel looked at him quizzically. “Not that you need me to,” he added hastily. “Just that—well, my mother always told me that one good turn deserves another, and you’re helping me, so I—I should help you, if I can.” “I suppose I won’t say no, if you’re so eager to offer,” Laurel said with a shrug. She raised a warning finger. “But let me know if your leg hurts too much, and I’ll take it back. There’s no need for you to overtax yourself."

“I will,” Elliott agreed. She held out the basket, and he took it. The damp, earthy scent of mushrooms rose from within.

“All right, then.” Laurel turned and set off down the trail. Slinging the basket over his arm and into the crook of his elbow, Elliott followed.

[balteren]

{henry golding, 37, cismale, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, FINANCIAL ADVISOR MIZN LEONG OF JAPAN (MALAYSIA)! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are DILLIGENT and LEVEL-HEADED enough to handle it. Just don’t let your UNEMOTIONAL NATURE bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU HAD A CHILD OUT OF WEDLOCK WHEN YOU WERE 18, AND THEY ARE BLACKMAILING YOU TO LEGITIMIZE THEM.

Name: mizn leong Aliases: N/A Country: Japan, originally from Malaysia Gender/Pronouns: cismale, he/him Sexual/Romantic Orientation: bisexual, biromantic Age: 37 Occupation: financial advisor to japan, also owns a fur trading company Faceclaim: henry golding Inspiration: mr. darcy (pride and prejudice), anthony bridgerton (bridgerton), the onceler (the lorax) (he’s making thneeds out of the furs lowkey)  Loyalties: japan, malaysia Pets: a chestnut mustang named farallon

tldr; mizn is a stupidly wealthy businessman who has a stoic, solemn presence about him. he has a bad case of resting bitch face, which has served him well in business, but deeply hindered him socially. when he was a child, many of the other kids thought he was rude, snobby, and generally unpleasant. in reality, he was just quiet, reserved, and deeply shy. as an adult, he overcame a good deal of his shyness, but retained the almost untouchable air he carried around with him. he is an avid explorer and outdoorsman, who loves fishing, hunting, swimming, gardening, and pretty much any outdoor activity.

backstory: Mizn was born to a distant father and an uninterested mother in the Johor region of Malaysia, the eldest legitimate son of a prominent businessman. They were not nobility, but their wealth allowed them to move in spaces that were not normally accessible to common people. He had multiple older brothers, and an older sister, but they were spread throughout the world, all in places where his father often did business. As an only child, Mizn was quiet, preferring to keep to himself, but he kept his time outside of his lessons busy with music. He was incredibly gifted on the violin, but his true talent lied in the pianoforte. As he grew, his talents grew with him, and he was composing his own pieces by the time he was thirteen.  In his teenage years, his father began to push him away from music, and closer to business. Mizn went along with his father’s wishes, planning to placate his father until he was old enough to leave home and audition for a place in a proper music school. His father would never hear of it, of course, but Mizn was certain he could change his father’s mind with enough practice. Surely, after enough time, he would prove that his talents shouldn’t be wasted.  Time passed, and his father finally caved into his wishes. He was eighteen, finally out on his own in society, and would be attending a music school in Germany. It was likely his father’s acceptance was a double edged sword- allowing Mizn to follow his dream, but also setting him conveniently close to German royal family. For years, the German King and Mizn’s father had been plotting, and unbeknownst to him, they had arranged a betrothal between him and the princess.  It didn’t matter much, in the end. Soon after his arrival to Germany, Mizn was drunk with freedom, and spent a great deal of his time outside of class drinking, causing mischief, and sleeping around. He raked his way across the landscape, but had a particular fondness for a German opera singer, keeping her near and going to her bed often. When she discovered she was pregnant, he immediately wrote to his father and informed him of his intention to marry her. He was a rake, but he was still a gentleman, and he was unwilling to let her fall into ruin.  Almost immediately, he was unenrolled from his university and forcibly sent home to Malaysia, where his father informed him that he would be joining a group of Russian fur traders on the west coast of North America while his father “cleaned his mess.” Mizn wouldn’t discover what that meant until much, much later.  He left with the traders, and soon discovered a mountain of untapped potential. When he returned home a year later, he set a proposed business plan in front of  his father. It involved temporary settlements set up along the coast, further south than the Russians, shifting and changing every year to allow the environments to recover. When he put his plan into action, it was immediately profitable.  For the last sixteen years, Mizn has been spending the majority of his time in North America, working and operating the operation from the source. He’d occasionally make it back across the Pacific, but only when he had business that had to be taken care of in person. Within a few years, he had turned his family’s (already substantial) fortune into an empire. As he grew older, and more importantly, after his father passed away, he began to dream about moving home and settling down, finally enjoying the fruits of his labor.  When war between Japan and China broke out, Mizn sailed back to Asia immediately. Japan was a powerful ally to his business, as his business relied heavily on their ports. He arrived on the coast of Japan, immediately offering financial aid for the war, and ultimately being offered the position of financial advisor to the Emperor. 

now: 

Mizn is enjoying his time as advisor, especially now that Japan has won the war. It’s far more comfortable than the rugged life he lived in America, even if it tends to be a little less exciting on a day-to-day basis. It feels good to be doing something helpful, even if that means sacrificing the rugged lifestyle of his youth. Besides- he was getting older, and he was itching to find a wife, start a family, and start to settle in one place. 

There was a definite roadblock in the way of his dream life: his betrothal to the German princess. Mizn was certain that the betrothal would be broken eventually, especially after multiple deaths rocked the family. Besides- the two had never gotten along, and any interactions went….. poorly. Learning that the princess- who was now Queen- was still intent on the marriage came as a shock. 

The marriage, however unpleasant it seemed, would solve his newest, most pressing problem. The child he had fathered had recently turned eighteen, and had reached out to him. He gave Mizn a choice: legitimize him and take him in as a son, or he destroy his reputation. As it turned out, Mizn’s father “cleaned up his mess” by arranging for the woman to be falsely imprisoned, and the child sent to an orphanage. Thinking he had solved the problem, his father gave it no mind. In reality, the woman found her son immediately upon her release, nearly five years later. Now, his son is nearly an adult, and has records of everything. Somehow, the woman obtained documents damning both him and his late father, and he would be ruined if it were released. For the time being, Mizn is placating his son by sending a monthly envelope of money, but that won’t keep him quiet forever. Marrying the German Queen would protect his business, his money, and his reputation, and producing legitimate heirs would give his son far less leverage over him.

The future is deeply uncertain for Mizn, but he knows he’s capable of coming out on the other side even stronger than before. He’s done it before, and he’ll do it again, even if it means marrying the Queen of Germany. 

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 | hpma character profile

warnings: mentions of mysterious disappearances, death, a creature attack, & a stroke

✧ IDENTITY ✧

Full Name: Benedict George Whitten

Nicknames: Ben, Benny 

Name Meanings: Benedict → Latin, “blessed” ; George → Greek, “farmer” ; Whitten → English or Scottish or Irish, “white farmstead.” 

Date of Birth: February 28, 1997 (at 11:16 pm) 

Gender: Male ; he/him

Sexuality: Heterosexual 

Blood Status: Muggleborn

Nationality: Irish, English, British 

Residence: The Lotus Clover Bed & Breakfast, County Cork, Ireland (1 to 18) ; TBD

✧ APPEARANCE ✧

Faceclaim: Luke Newton

Gif Source

Height: 6’1”

Build: Lean and athletic physique 

Hair: Brown hair that is short, messy, and occasionally gelled back 

Eye Color: Blue 

Scarring: 

Childhood & Hogwarts: Benedict has a long surgical scar that runs down the middle of his chest because he had open heart surgery as a baby. Over time, the scar has thinned and faded. 

Adulthood: None

Modifications: (glasses, piercings, tattoos, etc.) None

Other Distinguishing Marks: None

Clothing Style: Simple ; outdoorsman-ish ; jeans ; t-shirts in earthy tones ; plaid shirts ; sweaters ; chino trousers ; chambray shirts ; windbreakers that tend to be obnoxiously bright ; hiking boots ; jean jackets

Accessories: A wrist watch 

What’s in His Pockets: His wand ; a pocket knife ; a compass ; his wallet 

What’s in His School Bag: Textbooks ; parchment ; quills ; ink ; notebooks ; pens ; pencils ; a book ; a laminated card that includes all relevant information about his heart ; tissues ; a windbreaker ; quidditch gloves

✧ SPEECH & LANGUAGE ✧

Voiceclaim: Luke Newton 

Accent: Irish 

Dialect: Cork English

Languages Spoken: English

Languages Understood: English 

✧ PERSONALITY ✧

MBTI Type: INTP — the logician 

→ A Logician (INTP) is someone with the Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Prospecting personality traits. These flexible thinkers enjoy taking an unconventional approach to many aspects of life. They often seek out unlikely paths, mixing willingness to experiment with personal creativity.

Enneagram Type: 6 — the skeptic 

→ Sixes are defined by their desire for safety and security. They seek to anticipate and avoid risk, and to ally themselves with trustworthy authority figures and institutions. Sixes are alert and vigilant, always thinking several steps ahead to anticipate and prepare for what could go wrong.

Positive Traits: Original, open-minded, curious, intelligent, kind, logical, athletic, loyal, organized 

Neutral Traits: Analytical, objective, independent, stubborn, reserved, prepared 

Negative Traits: Disconnected, can be insensitive, impatient, has perfectionist tendencies, has difficulties with emotions, extremely private 

Common Stressors: Exams ; grades ; abandonment issues ; big games ; figuring out what he wants to do with his life

Comforting Things: Being outside ; reading ; being with his brother ; flying ; quidditch 

Interests & Hobbies: Hiking, flying, quidditch, biking, reading, football/soccer, fishing

Description: Quiet, intelligent, and logical, Benedict prefers to keep things to himself due to his reserved nature. He tends to look at things rationally and gets frustrated when emotions color his thought process too much. He takes a while to add emotions into the picture and usually reserves them for actions related to his family. Like his twin, Ben has abandonment issues that cause him to push people away. He doesn’t like to talk about his emotions and issues and generally ignores them. Despite all of this, though, Benedict is still a kind and loyal friend. It just takes him a while to let people in and see the person underneath the rationality and logic.

✧ MAGIC ✧

Wand: Benedict’s wand is made of ash wood with a unicorn tail hair core and is 11 inches with an unyielding flexibility. 

→ Ash wands cleaved to its one true master and ought not to be passed on or gifted from the original owner, because it would lose power and skill. This tendency was extreme if the core was of unicorn hair. Those witches and wizards best suited to ash wands were not lightly swayed from their beliefs or purposes. However, the brash or over-confident witch or wizard, who often insisted of trying wands on this prestigious wood, would be disappointed by its effects. The ideal owner might be stubborn, and would certainly be courageous, but never crass or arrogant.

Other Magical Abilities: None

Patronus: Penguin

Patronus Memory: Catching his first large fish

Boggart: His parents telling him that he was never wanted 

Riddikulus: His parents start to tell terrible and punny jokes 

Amortentia:

Benedict smells like spearmint toothpaste, cinnamon, soap, and sandalwood.

Benedict smells peat, damp grass, peanut butter, raspberries, parchment, and popcorn. 

Mirror of Erised: Ben sees himself with his parents, and a few other important people.

✧ HOGWARTS ✧

House: Ravenclaw 

OWL Classes:

Astronomy — Exceeds Expectations 

Charms — Outstanding 

Defense Against the Dark Arts — Outstanding 

Flying — Outstanding 

Herbology — Exceeds Expectations 

History of Magic — Acceptable 

Potions — Outstanding 

Transfiguration — Exceeds Expectations

OWL Electives:

Arithmancy — Exceeds Expectations

Care of Magical Creatures — Acceptable

Study of Ancient Runes — Exceeds Expectations 

NEWT Classes:

Charms — Outstanding

Defense Against the Dark Arts — Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic — Exceeds Expectations

Study of Ancient Runes — Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration — Outstanding 

Extracurriculars: Seeker on the Ravenclaw team from second to seventh year ; frog choir

✧ EMPLOYMENT ✧

Affiliations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry ; the Ministry of Magic ; The Wizarding Natural History Museum 

Professions:

Age 18 to 26 - Archivist at the ministry

Age 26 to 92 - Curator at The Wizarding Natural History Museum

✧ FAMILY ✧

Father: Edward John Whitten [deceased, 1966-1997]

Born on January 22, 1966, Edward was the second son of George and Mary Whitten, joining elder brother, Robert George (then 3). Edward had a good childhood, growing up in the city of Cork until the age of fifteen and spending his final years at home in the city of Cobh. His childhood, in general, could be described as idyllic as his family was well off and he had a good relationship with his older brother. At the age of 18, Edward decided to study at a university in Dublin, where he majored in history with a concentration in Irish and Celtic history. In his fourth year at university, Edward did a semester at a university in London where he met Eleanora Blythe and they became friends quickly. He also decided to get his PhD from the same London university, where he furthered his friendship with Eleanora.

Edward began dating Eleanora when he was twenty-five and they dated for two years before marrying in 1993, when he was twenty-seven. They agreed to wait to have children until their PhDs were completed and on February 28, 1997, their only children, Jack Edward and Benedict Jasper, were born. Edward adored his sons, doting on them the best he could. 

Unfortunately, Edward’s time with his sons was cut short in November of 1997. While researching an ancient Celtic settlement, Edward and his wife disappeared without a trace. Their twin sons were found alone, and an extensive search entailed but nothing was ever found. Eventually, in 2025, the Whittens were discovered to have become the victims of a Dobhar-chú, a blood-thirsty creature that resembles a cross between a hound and a giant otter (or fish) and haunts the waters (and the land) of Ireland. 

Benedict doesn’t have any memories of his father, only the stories that his uncle tells and the old photographs. Despite knowing how completely irrational it is, Benedict holds some resentment towards his father for disappearing. He knows, logically by all accounts, that his father didn’t leave by choice, but it’s hard to grapple with that emotionally. 

Faceclaim: Chris Evans 

Mother: Eleanora Susan Whitten [deceased, 1967-1997]

Born on May 30, 1967, Eleanora was the only child of Jasper and Nancy Blythe. Growing up on the outskirts of London, Eleanora had a good childhood, full of love. She had a good relationship with her parents, who did their best to provide her with the best possible childhood. At the age of 18, Eleanora began attending a university in London, studying history with a concentration in women’s history. She met Edward Whitten during her third year, when he was a sort of exchange student in his fourth year. They became friends quite quickly, sharing their love for different aspects of history. Eleanora was secretly quite pleased when Edward continued on with his PhD at her university. She also pursued a PhD.

Eleanora began dating Edward when she was twenty-four and they dated for two years before marrying in 1993. They waited until after they had achieved their PhDs to have children and on February 28, 1997, their twin sons, Jack Edward and Benedict Jasper, were born. Eleanora adored her sons and doted on them as well as she could. 

Unfortunately, Eleanora didn’t get to have as much time with her sons. Alongside her husband, Eleanora disappeared in November of 1997. It was discovered in 2025 that she was a victim of a Dobhar-cú.

Benedict has no memories of his mother, only the old photographs and his uncle’s stories. He also holds some resentment towards her for disappearing, despite being frustrated that he feels that way. 

Faceclaim: Hayley Atwell

Brother: Jack Edward Whitten

Born at 10:59 pm on February 28, 1997, Jack is the eldest son of Edward and Eleanora Whitten, seventeen minutes older than Benedict, and a Slytherin. They have a good relationship and are quite close. However, Ben and Jack bicker a lot, mostly over meaningless things. Ben knows that Jack will always have his back and he knows that he can count on his brother.

Faceclaim: Luke Newton

Uncle: Robert George Whitten 

Born on July 19, 1962, Robert was the first son of George and Mary Whitten and the older brother of Benedict’s father, Edward. Robert took in Ben and his twin brother, Jack, after their parents disappeared. Robert is also the father of Benedict’s cousins, Darcy, Thea, and Clary. Robert is a kind man with the patience of a saint.

Benedict has a good relationship with his uncle. It’s a little distant, as they’re very different people, but they do have things that they can do together. Ben knows that he can count on his uncle for anything, though. 

Faceclaim: John Corbett

Aunt: Mai Louise Whitten née Daniels [deceased, 1965-2010]

Born on May 15, 1965, Mai is the adopted daughter of Clarence and Emily Daniels and the wife of Jack’s uncle Robert. Mai, along with her husband, took in her nephews when their parents disappeared. Mai is also the mother of Jack’s cousins, Darcy, Thea, and Clary. Mai had a good heart and a lot of patience. Unfortunately in 2010, Mai suffered a fatal stroke when an aneurysm that she had always had burst.

Benedict has a good, albeit distant, relationship with his aunt. They never quite clicked for some reason, but Ben knew that he could count on his aunt. He was hurt and shocked by her sudden death, which made him withdraw and become a little more standoffish for a few months. 

Faceclaim: Ali Wong

Cousin: Darcy Mai Whitten 

Born on January 17, 1993, Darcy is the eldest daughter of Robert and Mai Whitten, four years older than Jack. Darcy is a muggle and has a very kind heart with a desire to help people. She enjoys being around others and was a fixture at the Lotus Clover’s check-in desk. 

Benedict has a good relationship with his cousin, although they’ve never been very close. They’re very different in personality, as Darcy prefers social gatherings and Ben doesn’t. However, Benedict knows that he can count on his cousins for anything. After all, she’s like an older sister to him. 

Faceclaim: Janel Parrish 

Cousin: Thea Vinh Whitten 

Born on May 29, 1997, Thea was the middle daughter of Mai and Robert Whitten, three months younger than Benedict, and a Gryffindor. Ben has a good relationship with his cousin. They’re not overly close and probably have the most distant relationship, but they get along quite well. Ben knows that he can count on Thea for anything. 

Faceclaim: Lana Condor 

Cousin: Clary Xuan Whitten 

Born on October 19, 2002, Clary is the youngest daughter of Robert and Mai Whitten, five years younger than Benedict. Clary is a muggle and more similar in personality to Benedict than Jack or her sisters. She doesn’t love being surrounded by people, but she does love the Lotus Clover and is the one to continue running the bed and breakfast after Robert retires. 

Benedict has a good relationship with his younger cousin. They get along quite well and Ben can often be found helping Clary with her homework. He enjoys spending time with her, even if they aren’t overly close either. Ben knows that he can count on Clary for anything. 

Faceclaim: Anna Cathcart 

Pets: 

Childhood: An owl names Florence, a tabby cat named Mittsy, and a golden retriever named Wilbur 

Adulthood: TBD

✧ ROMANCE & CHILDREN ✧

Love Interest: Lottie Turner

Children: TBD

✧ OTHER RELATIONSHIPS ✧

Best Friends:

Sage Carridan @kc-and-co

Close Friends: TBD

Friends:

Duncan Donovan @amerrymystery

Noa March @thatravenpuffwitch

Ryan Oakley @hogwartsmysteryho

Efesto & Levi Vecellio @nicos-oc-hell

Acquaintances: TBD

It’s Complicated: TBD

Hogwarts Dormmates: There are four open spots in Ben’s dorm! 

Rivals: TBD

Enemies: TBD

✧ HISTORY & BACKGROUND ✧

Place of Birth: London, England 

Hometown: County Cork, Ireland

Childhood: 

Born at 11:16 pm on February 28, 1997, Benedict George Whitten was the first child born to Edward and Eleanora Whitten, joining his twin brother, Jack Edward, who had been born seventeen minutes earlier at 10:59 pm. The first eight months or so of Benedict’s life were pretty happy and calm. Everything changed, though, in November of 1997 when his parents disappeared without a trace. From that point on, Benedict and his brother were raised by their father’s older brother, Robert, and their aunt, Mai, alongside their cousins, Darcy (b. January 17, 1993), Thea (b. May 29, 1997), and Clary (b. October 19, 2002). 

Growing up at a bed and breakfast was an interesting experience and it gave Benedict a good childhood, even though there weren’t always the vacations and such that his school friends went on. At the age of 15 months, Ben had open heart surgery in order to close a small-ish congenital hole in his heart. 

Hogwarts Years:

Upon starting Hogwarts, Benedict was sorted into Ravenclaw. He found his niche in the house quite quickly and was startled when he let Sage Carridan in rather quickly, as she was the first non-relative that Ben actually opened himself up to. In his second year, he joined the Ravenclaw quidditch team where he played the position of seeker. He enjoyed his time at Hogwarts. 

Adulthood:

After graduating from Hogwarts, Benedict began working as an archivist for the ministry of magic. He was not exactly thrilled with the work, and when, at the age of 26, he was offered a position as the curator for a new wizarding natural history museum, Ben jumped at it. He would later discover that the position came about because Jack, Sage, Thea, and Noa recommended him for the position as Jack’s boss had first brought it up.

When Benedict was 28, his brother suggested that they hire an investigator to discover what had happened to their parents all those years ago. In late 2025, it was discovered that Edward and Eleanora were the victims of a Dobhar-chú. This discovery settled something inside of Benedict, which enabled him to be a better father to his children.

Old Age:

Benedict retired at the age of 92 and devoted the remainder of his life to his family. He traveled some, visiting places that he’d never spent much time seeing.

Death: 

Benedict passed away in his sleep at the age of 120. He had lived a long and fulfilled life.

✧ MISCELLANEOUS ✧ 

Favorite Color: Dark blue

Favorite Food: Ravioli 

Favorite Drink: Hot chocolate 

Favorite Weather: Crisp air with the sun shining 

Favorite Season: Autumn

Favorite Music: Bastille, Mumford & Sons, Johnny Cash, Of Monsters and Men

Dislikes: Being called “Benny” ; bullies ; oranges ; crowds ; fussing 

Trivia:

Benedict had open heart surgery at 15 months old as he had a Ventricular Septal Defect, or a hole between the chambers of the lower heart. The hole was big enough that it had to be closed surgically and small enough that it wasn’t immediately life threatening.

Benedict is usually quite stoic and tends to bottle up his emotions. He’s not an easy person to get to know because of the walls that he has built up. 

Benedict is an outdoorsman. Being outside and doing things helps Ben clear his mind and stop overthinking things. 

Benedict is usually the voice of reason amongst his cousin and brother. He’s the only one that actually seems to consistently think before acting and that means that he’s going to stop Jack and Thea before things get more intense. 

Important Links:

Benedict’s tag

[andy-clutterbuck]

Hi! I'm new Andy trash, and want to thank you so much for creating this absolute GOLDMINE! Already drooling over all your gifs and priceless tags (#sounds only extinct species of whales can understand), but when I saw your page with links to watch everything I was in Heaven! And thanks to all your Soft DILF gifs I watched The Murmuring. I never thought graying hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and preppy outdoorsman wear circa '51 would do it for me, but here we are. (1/2 from N.)

Hello!! Welcome welcome, friend! 💙 💚 Thank you so so much! My tags didn't send you running for the hills, that's great! I've always just called it a dumpster 😂 goldmine sounds so nice. Please let me know if you have trouble with any links, I can help you out no problem. The Murmuring was such a gift in the looks department, I wouldn't think the 50s scientist look would do it for me but Andy's just magic like that 😂 I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask about fic, I haven't read any in years, sorry! If anyone reading has some good suggestions leave a reply! 😺 This Life is such a cornerstone of Andy's career, and yes I love Egg. I named one of my cats Egg and everyone always loves it 😂, here he is:

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[alertfacts]

In Memory of Ben Brown: Utah Obituary and Tribute

When we think about the journey of life, the inevitable truth is that everyone will leave behind a legacy, be it through memories, accomplishments, or the impact they had on the lives of others. For those who knew Ben Brown, this legacy is one of warmth, generosity, and unwavering kindness. The Ben Brown Utah obituary is not just a farewell, but a celebration of a life lived with purpose and passion. In this article, we'll take a deep dive into the life of Ben Brown, exploring his contributions to the community, his personal achievements, and the unforgettable moments that define his memory.

Early Life and Roots

Ben Brown's story begins in a small town nestled in the heart of Utah. Born into a close-knit family, Ben was the youngest of three children. From an early age, it was clear that Ben had a natural curiosity about the world around him. Whether it was exploring the great outdoors, tinkering with gadgets, or reading books about faraway lands, Ben was always on a quest to learn and discover.

His parents, Mary and James Brown, instilled in him the values of hard work, integrity, and compassion. These values would go on to shape the man he would become and would be evident in every aspect of his life.

The Formative Years

As Ben grew older, his love for learning only intensified. He excelled in school, particularly in subjects like mathematics and science. But it wasn't just academics that captured Ben's interest—he was also a gifted athlete. Basketball was his game, and he played with a determination and passion that inspired his teammates and coaches alike.

But despite his success on the court and in the classroom, Ben remained humble. He was the kind of person who would go out of his way to help others, whether it was tutoring a classmate who was struggling with algebra or volunteering at the local community center. This selflessness was a defining characteristic of Ben's personality, and it was something that endeared him to everyone he met.

A Life of Service

After graduating from high school, Ben decided to pursue a career in public service. He attended the University of Utah, where he studied political science and public administration. His goal was to make a difference in his community, and he was determined to use his education to do just that.

Upon graduation, Ben returned to his hometown and began working for the local government. His dedication to his work quickly earned him the respect of his colleagues and the community. Whether he was organizing community events, implementing new policies, or simply lending a helping hand to those in need, Ben approached every task with enthusiasm and a genuine desire to improve the lives of others.

Throughout his career, Ben held various positions, each one allowing him to have a greater impact on the community. But no matter how busy he was with work, he always made time for his family and friends. To Ben, relationships were the most important aspect of life, and he cherished every moment spent with loved ones.

Personal Achievements

While Ben's professional life was impressive, his personal achievements were equally noteworthy. He was an avid outdoorsman, spending much of his free time hiking, fishing, and camping in Utah's breathtaking wilderness. The mountains were his sanctuary, a place where he could find peace and reflect on the beauty of nature.

But Ben wasn't just an adventurer—he was also a creator. He had a passion for woodworking, and over the years, he crafted countless pieces of furniture, each one a testament to his skill and creativity. His home was filled with his creations, each piece telling a story of patience, dedication, and artistry.

Ben was also a devoted husband and father. He met his wife, Sarah, during his college years, and the two quickly became inseparable. Together, they built a life full of love, laughter, and adventure. Their home was always filled with the sounds of music, as Ben was an accomplished guitarist. He often played for his children, passing on his love of music to the next generation.

The Community Impact

One of the most remarkable aspects of Ben Brown's life was the profound impact he had on his community. He wasn't just a public servant; he was a leader, a mentor, and a friend to many. His Ben Brown Utah obituary is filled with testimonials from those whose lives were touched by his kindness and generosity.

Mentorship: Ben had a natural ability to connect with people, particularly young individuals who were just starting out in their careers. He often took on the role of a mentor, providing guidance and support to those who needed it most. His advice was always thoughtful, practical, and delivered with a sense of empathy that made others feel truly heard.

Volunteer Work: Ben believed in giving back to his community, and he did so in numerous ways. He was a regular volunteer at local shelters, food banks, and youth programs. His presence at these organizations was more than just a helping hand—he was a beacon of hope for those who were struggling, showing them that they were not alone.

Community Events: Ben was instrumental in organizing various community events, from charity fundraisers to local festivals. These events not only brought people together but also raised awareness and funds for important causes. Ben's ability to rally the community was unmatched, and his efforts left a lasting legacy.

Lessons from Ben's Life

As we reflect on Ben Brown's life, there are several lessons that we can all take away from his journey:

Kindness Matters: Ben's kindness was one of his most defining traits. He treated everyone with respect and compassion, regardless of their background or circumstances. This is a reminder that kindness is a powerful force that can change lives.

Live with Purpose: Ben's life was a testament to the importance of living with purpose. He dedicated himself to serving others, and in doing so, he found fulfillment and happiness. We can all strive to find our purpose and use it to make a positive impact on the world.

Value Relationships: For Ben, relationships were everything. He prioritized his family and friends, and he nurtured those connections with care and attention. In our fast-paced world, it's easy to lose sight of what's truly important, but Ben's life reminds us to cherish our relationships and make time for those we love.

Embrace Adventure: Ben's love for the outdoors and his passion for woodworking were expressions of his adventurous spirit. He wasn't afraid to try new things, and he embraced challenges with enthusiasm. This is a reminder to step out of our comfort zones and explore the world around us.

Conclusion

As we conclude this tribute, it's clear that the Ben Brown Utah obituary is more than just a record of a life lived—it's a celebration of a man who made a difference. Ben Brown's legacy will continue to live on in the hearts and minds of those who knew him, and his story will inspire future generations to live with kindness, purpose, and a sense of adventure.

In the end, the true measure of a person's life is not in the wealth they accumulate or the titles they hold, but in the lives they touch and the love they give. By this measure, Ben Brown's life was an extraordinary success.

[noisycowboyglitter]

Fish Alaska Salmon: The Best Times of Year to Reel in the Big One

Alaska is renowned for its bountiful salmon fisheries, which play a vital role in the state's ecology, economy, and cultural heritage. The pristine waters of Alaska's rivers and streams are home to several species of Pacific salmon, including the iconic Chinook (king), Coho (silver), Sockeye (red), Chum (dog), and Pink (humpy) salmon.

Buy now:19.95$

These anadromous fish spend the majority of their lives in the open ocean, but return to their natal streams to spawn, completing a remarkable life cycle. Alaska's salmon thrive in the cold, nutrient-rich waters, growing to impressive sizes and developing deep, vibrant colors that distinguish them from farmed salmon.

Alaskan salmon are celebrated for their exceptional quality, firm texture, and rich, flavorful taste. They are a dietary staple for many Alaskan natives, who have relied on the annual salmon runs for sustenance and cultural traditions for centuries. Commercial and recreational fishing for Alaska salmon also support a substantial industry, contributing significantly to the state's economy.

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The abundance and sustainability of Alaska's salmon fisheries are the result of careful management and conservation efforts, ensuring that this invaluable natural resource remains a source of pride and prosperity for generations to come.

Alaska is a paradise for anglers, offering unparalleled fishing opportunities in its pristine and diverse waterways. From the mighty rivers teeming with Pacific salmon to the crystal-clear lakes filled with trophy trout, Alaska's fishing experiences are truly world-class.

The state's remote wilderness, untouched landscapes, and abundance of fish species attract anglers from around the globe. Whether it's casting for feisty rainbow trout in a remote glacial stream, targeting trophy-sized king salmon in the Kenai River, or exploring the fly-fishing meccas of the Alaskan bush, the fishing in Alaska is both challenging and rewarding.

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Sustainable management practices and strict regulations ensure that Alaska's fisheries remain healthy and thriving, preserving this natural wonder for generations of anglers to come. The unique experience of fishing in Alaska is truly a bucket-list item for any avid outdoorsman.

Finding the perfect gift for the bass angler in your life can be a challenge, but there are a variety of options that any serious bass fisherman would appreciate. From high-quality fishing rods and reels to specialized lures and tackle, the options are endless. Accessories like polarized sunglasses, waterproof bags, and personalized tackle boxes can also make great gifts. For the tech-savvy bass pro,

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consider GPS units, fish finders, or even an electric trolling motor. No matter the budget, there are plenty of thoughtful gift ideas to delight the bass fishing enthusiast.

[starbaby62-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Red Stanley thermos set.

[vintagebitchgifts]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: New 3D Mountain Range Eagle Artisan Southwestern Sterling Silver Forest Necklace.

[msben24]

Father’s Day Frenzy: 10 Wacky Gifts to Make Your Dad LOL

Hey there, fellow gift givers! Father’s Day is fast approaching, and if you’re on the hunt for something special to make your dad chuckle, look no further! We’ve scoured the depths of Amazon to find you the quirkiest, most hilarious gifts that are sure to put a smile on your old man’s face. So, without further ado, here are 10 wacky gifts that will have your dad laughing out loud this Father’s Day!

**Joking Hazards**

Joking Hazard

Give your dad the gift of endless laughter with this comic building party game. It’s the perfect way to bond over some twisted humor and questionable life choices. https://amzn.to/3QV7mFm

Elden Ring — Playstation 4

Let your dad escape into a fantasy world with this epic game. Who needs reality when you can slay dragons and conquer kingdoms from the comfort of your living room? https://amzn.to/4armmBT

For the dad who likes to be prepared for anything, this wagon is perfect for shopping, sports events, camping trips, or even gardening adventures. It’s like the Swiss Army knife of wagons! https://amzn.to/3VafPqz

Electric Drum Set with Headphones

Give your dad the gift of music without the noise complaints. With headphones included, he can rock out to his heart’s content without disturbing the peace. https://amzn.to/4aExJ9K

Foldable Treadmill

Because who says you can’t exercise while working? This under-desk treadmill is perfect for the dad who’s always on the go but still wants to sneak in a workout. https://amzn.to/3wzLuZm

Stand up Paddle Board

Help your dad ride the waves of fun with these inflatable paddle boards. Whether he’s a seasoned pro or a newbie, he’ll have a blast cruising on the water. https://amzn.to/3VeCGBG

Large Beach Mat

Make outdoor adventures even more enjoyable with this oversized picnic mat. It’s perfect for beach trips, camping excursions, hiking expeditions, or just lounging in the backyard. https://amzn.to/3QXlYEe

For the dad who loves the great outdoors, these hiking poles are a must-have. They’re sturdy, lightweight, and collapsible, making them the perfect companion for any adventure. https://amzn.to/4aB78Kq

Take the hassle out of pool maintenance with this robotic vacuum cleaner. Dad can sit back, relax, and let the robot do all the work while he enjoys a cold drink by the pool. https://amzn.to/4bOKz5U

Stackable Toolbox

Help your dad stay organized with this versatile tool box. With flexible platforms for stacking and a flat top that can hold up to 66 lbs, it’s the perfect storage solution for all his tools and gadgets. https://amzn.to/4e1ZyM2

So there you have it, folks! 10 hilarious gifts that are guaranteed to make your dad’s Father’s Day extra special. Whether he’s a gamer, an outdoorsman, a music lover, or just in need of a good laugh, there’s something on this list for every type of dad. Happy Father’s Day shopping!

[stylistfortheyoungatheart]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Orvis Tapestry & Leather Tote Bag with Fishing Book, $48.

[aladean1]

Navigating Timelessness: The Charm of Brass Compasses as Anniversary Gifts for Men

In the realm of timeless gifts, few items hold the allure and fascination of a brass compass. Crafted with precision and imbued with a sense of adventure, these instruments have captivated explorers, adventurers, and enthusiasts for centuries. Their timeless appeal makes them a perfect choice for anniversary gifts for men, symbolizing the journey of love and the endless possibilities that lie ahead.

A brass compass is more than just a navigational tool; it is a symbol of direction, guidance, and steadfastness. Its sturdy construction and elegant design evoke a sense of nostalgia, harking back to an era when exploration was as much about the journey as it was about the destination. Whether used for practical navigation or cherished as a decorative piece, a brass compass adds a touch of sophistication to any setting.

One of the remarkable qualities of brass compasses is their durability. Crafted from high-quality materials, they are built to withstand the test of time, much like the enduring bond between two individuals celebrating their anniversary. As a gift, a brass compass not only serves as a reminder of the journey shared but also as a symbol of the strength and resilience of the relationship.

What sets a brass compass apart is its timeless appeal. Unlike modern gadgets that may become obsolete over time, a brass compass retains its charm and functionality for generations. Its classic design transcends trends and fads, making it a cherished heirloom that can be passed down from one generation to the next.

For anniversary gifts for men, a brass compass offers a unique blend of elegance and utility. Whether the recipient is an avid outdoorsman, a history enthusiast, or simply appreciates fine craftsmanship, a brass compass is sure to be treasured. Its versatility allows it to serve as a decorative piece for the home or office, a companion on outdoor adventures, or a symbol of personal growth and exploration.

In conclusion, a brass compass embodies the timeless qualities of love, adventure, and discovery, making it an ideal choice for anniversary gifts for men. Its enduring appeal and symbolic significance make it a gift that will be cherished for years to come, serving as a reminder of the journey traveled and the adventures that lie ahead. Whether given as a token of love, friendship, or appreciation, a brass compass is sure to leave a lasting impression on its recipient.

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Our Outdoorsman Fl Collection has always been a favorite among our country's most gritty & self sufficient Men & Women! A Perfect gift for the outdoorsman in your life. YourAmericanFLagStore.com