#gas heating for outdoors

[blackxenergy]

Deck in San Francisco Example of a large trendy backyard deck design

[fsmholidaze]

Deck in San Francisco Example of a large trendy backyard deck design

[bubblesymphony]

Deck in San Francisco Example of a large trendy backyard deck design

[grillpartshub-blog]

Replace Stainless Steel Heat Shield for Barbecue Gas Grills (Set of 4) Fits Compatible Models: Outdoor Gourmet SRGG51112, SRGG51112A, SRGG51204A, Grillada GG60000-4B, Brinkmann 810-1455-S, 810-1456-S, 810-9425-W, Shinerich Kingston, SRGG51111 Gas Models. BUY NOW!!

[yudori]

Contemporary Patio - Tile Mid-sized modern backyard tile patio design with a fire pit and an extension to the roof

[carlos-arl]

Contemporary Patio - Outdoor Kitchen

Ideas for a sizable contemporary backyard kitchen remodel with an addition to the roof

[twenty-flight-rock]

Deck Roof Extensions in Denver

[headspace-hotel]

This is approximate since calculations vary, but somewhere in the neighborhood of 20% of carbon emissions since the Industrial Revolution have come from destruction of terrestrial ecosystems—wetland destruction, deforestation, degradation of grasslands and so on

Soil, soil communities, root systems, carbonate rock, wood, living plants, and peat in wetlands—all holds carbon

Now consider what plants do for you

The mere sight of plants and trees improves mental and physical health. I won't elaborate much more upon this, the positive effects are incredible and overwhelming.

Trees and vines that shade your home and outdoor areas: reduce the cost of cooling, meaning less electricity is used. Shade reduces the risk of death in extreme heat events.

(Trees also reduce light and noise pollution)

Edible plants (many wild plants and many plants you can grow): provide you with food reducing your dependence on industrial agriculture and cars to reach supermarkets

Community gardens and orchards: creates resilience and interdependence among small local communities, reducing the power of capitalism and increasing the ability of individuals to organize and create change. Makes more sustainable and plant based diets accessible to people for whom they would ordinarily be inaccessible

Compost piles for gardening: less greenhouse gas emissions than result from waste breaking down anaerobically in landfills

No more traditional lawns: much less use of gas powered lawn mowers, weed whackers etc. which are, by themselves, significant contributions to carbon emissions and urban pollution

Crafting and creating using plants: Locally available wild plant species can be used by local crafters and creators for baskets and containers, yarn, fabrics, dyes, and the like, resulting in less dependence on unsustainable and unethical global industries

More people growing and gathering edible and useful plants and using them = larger body of practical, scientific and technological insights to draw from in order to solve future problems

In conclusion: Plants

[violetmuses]

Don't Hurt Yourself 🖤

Title: Don't Hurt Yourself 

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe 

Character: Armando Aretas 

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Forgiveness is a virtue. 

Author's Note: Here's another request! Enjoy. ❤️‍🩹

@twinklestarslight

====

2024

“I'm picking up Armando from the airport. Let's ride!” Detective Mike Lowrey rocked classic sunglasses to beat Miami sunlight and took car keys, driving one of the flyest cars this afternoon.

“No, thanks.” Voices mumbled around the precinct and declined Lowrey's offer, focused on work for various reasons. 

Before Lowrey planned to leave the building on his own, he walked down another hallway and searched for you. 

“Hey, uh. Not sure if you heard me earlier, but I'm picking up Armando from the airport soon. Wanna ride?” Lowrey noticed you finishing paperwork, but skirted this break from that computer screen. 

“I'm good. Thanks, though.” You also refused the drive, which threw Lowrey off. 

“Uh-uh. I still have the Porsche and you always ride with me. What's going on?” Lowrey folded both arms.

“Nothing, Mike. I'm swamped.” You gestured to the mountain of files on your desk. 

“Shut down the computer and let's go.” Mike put his foot down. “You clearly won't tell me what's wrong and I really don't like this attitude.” 

Though annoyed, you listened to Mike and finally headed out for the day. 

______

Even while this radio played upbeat summertime music, you frowned and just wished to resume work at the precinct. 

Sooner than later, folks crowded this terminal as you waited next to Mike and sought one familiar face. 

“What's up, man?” Mike dapped Armando up once luggage stood nearby. 

Despite acknowledging the blazed heat outdoors, Armando chose this short-sleeved top with jeans. 

Meanwhile, you lifted these sunglasses and remained quiet, walking out of the terminal with Mike and Armando. 

______

“Look, I wasted my gas while driving and Spark won't even talk to you! What the hell is going on with y'all?” Bringing Armando, Mike ranted and offered one nickname for you. “Figure it out.”

Frustrated, Mike stormed out of the room and left you with Armando. 

“I'm sorry, baby.” Armando stepped closer to you, but you flinched away and refused his touch. 

“Went on vacation and you never called me back.” You shook your head, upset for good reason. 

“No excuses, I know.” Armando just lifted both hands. You exchanged phone numbers not long ago. 

“I forgive you, but  please don't do it again.” You say. “I just want you to feel better in this new environment.”

“I'll do better.” He vowed, leaving for his desk at last. 

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A plate of light brown bumpy flatbread with blackened spots, surrounded by za'tar and green olives. End ID]

خبز طابون / Khobz taboon (Palestinian flatbread)

Khobz taboon ("taboon bread") is a soft, chewy Palestinian flatbread. It may be eaten with olive oil and za'tar, but it is best known as the base of مسخن (musakhkhan), where it is topped with spiced aromatics and perhaps chicken.

Khobz taboon gets its name from the vessel it is traditionally cooked in—an outdoor, shallow conical oven with an opening at the top and a clay or metal cover to trap heat. Taboons may also have an opening at the side through which the fire can be stoked, especially in the east of Palestine. These ovens were historically made from a mixture of local clay and hay, but have more recently also been constructed from clay treated to be sturdier, or from metal.

A taboon is used by packing flammable material, such as hay, fabric, animal dung, wood, and charcoal, around the outside of the oven and letting it burn overnight; the fire transfers thermal energy to the clay, and to the river stones, sand, glass, or flint stones (صوان, "ṣawwān") that form the base of the oven. The ash is then brushed away, and the flattened dough is placed on the stones or stuck to the walls of the oven to cook. The clay and stones will continue to release thermal energy and cook things throughout the day. The clay and ash give a distinctive flavor to anything cooked inside the taboon, making this method a source of nostalgia for many people who have transitioned to cooking in indoor ovens.

Khobz taboon was traditionally made with whole wheat flour. Most people today use a blend of around two parts white flour to one part whole wheat, or else all white flour; they may even add milk or milk powder to ensure a very soft dough. This recipe uses a blend of flours to combine the nutty flavor of whole wheat dough with the pliancy of white dough. It also begins with an optional pre-ferment to mimic the traditional Palestinian method of including a piece of dough from the previous day's bread into each new batch (like a pâte fermentée) giving a rich and slightly sour flavor to the final bread. It calls for the use of rocks to imitate the bottom of a taboon; the rocks give the khobz its distinctive dimpled texture, and ensure that no interior pocket forms in the bread.

In the years following 2007, the siege Israel had imposed on Gaza caused a shortage of cooking gas that led to a resurgence in the use of taboons. The ovens were used to bake bread and to grill sweet potatoes during the time of their winter harvest. Meanwhile, in the West Bank, Israeli military forces repeatedly destroyed taboon ovens and assaulted villagers who tried to defend them, as Israeli settlers from nearby villages complained about the smoke that the ovens produced. Some of these ovens had been used to bake bread for entire families of 40 or more people. Palestinians continue to build, use, and defend these ovens, despite the fact that Israeli law de facto forbids Palestinians in the West Bank to build anything.

Today, Israel is deliberately targeting and destroying bakeries in refugee camps that had been supplying bread to tens of thousands of people in Gaza, continuing a long campaign of starvation of the Palestinian people.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System's (Israel's primary weapons manufacturer) landlord; and donating to Palestine Action's bail fund.

Equipment:

A large, shallow mixing bowl, like a Moroccan qus'a

A large (12"), shallow clay cooking vessel, such as the bottom of a Moroccan tajine (one that is rated for very high temperatures), or a large baking tray

Assorted smooth river rocks of varying sizes, from 1 to 3" in diameter.

Make sure that your rocks have been thoroughly cleaned, and that they do not contain any fissures, cracks, or veins that could contain water (this water, once heated in the oven, could cause the rocks to crack open). Instead of river rocks, I used lava rocks designed for use in a clay tanoor. You just need something to provide thermal mass and give a bumpy texture.

Ingredients:

Makes 3 large breads.

For the pre-ferment:

140g whole wheat flour

1/2 tsp active dry yeast

140g water

You may also use a pâte fermentée that you already have (just adjust the ratio of white to whole wheat flour added later accordingly), or a sourdough starter. The hydration of the starter doesn't matter, since you will be adding water by eye later.

For the bread:

330g bread flour or all-purpose flour

30g whole wheat flour

5g salt

Water

If you skipped the pâte fermentée step, add 170g (rather than 30g) of wheat flour at this stage, as well as 1/2 Tbsp of active dry yeast. I have not tested the recipe this way.

Instructions:

For the pâte fermentée:

1. Mix flour and yeast in a small mixing bowl. Add water and stir to combine. Cover and leave out at room temperature for a day, or in the refrigerator for up to three days. At the end of the rising time, it should be about one and a half times its original size.

For the bread:

This recipe makes a high hydration dough that will need techniques such as slapping and folding to knead effectively.

1. Mix flours and salt in a very large, shallow mixing bowl. Add your pâte fermentée and mix to combine.

2. Add water until the flour comes together into a soft, sticky dough and continue keading. Have a bowl of water on your workstation. Every time the dough starts to stick to your hands or the sides of the bowl, wet your hands and rinse down the side of the bowl with some water. This will gradually add water to the dough.

3. You will notice the dough growing smoother and laxer. At this point, start kneading by repeatedly folding the edges of the dough in towards the center. Do this by occasionally wetting your hands, then running a hand along the side of the bowl and under the edge of the dough to unstick it from the bowl; then fold. You will get stuck less often if you try to touch the dough as lightly and briefly as possible. Every few folds, dimple the surface of the dough all over with your fingertips. You will have been kneading for about 10 minutes at this point.

The dough should become more smooth and less bumpy—you will notice it holding its shape and becoming more stretchy as gluten forms. It should form into a ball when you fold the corners in and hold its shape for a minute, but then gradually expand to take the shape of the bowl. I added about 2 1/2 cups of water total (in dry conditions) during steps 2 and 3.

4. At this point, the dough is wet enough that the slap and fold method is the best way to knead. Wet your hands and again unstick the dough from the sides of the bowl. Hook your hands under the dough and quickly pull it all up into the air; fold the hanging bottom part of the dough under, and plop the dough back down, folding it on top of the part you plopped down earlier. Give the bowl a quarter turn and repeat. Do this continually for another few minutes.

5. When the dough is very smooth and lax, smear some olive oil on the sides of the bowl and under the dough, and pat some oil on top.

6. Cover the bowl and bulk ferment the dough at room temperature for 8 hours, or for 16-24 hours in the fridge. At the end of the rising time, you should see bubbles beginning to form on the surface of the dough.

To shape and bake:

1. Place a layer of rocks at the bottom of a clay cooking vessel or baking sheet. Put the sheet in the top third of the oven and preheat your oven to 550 °F (290 °C), or as hot as it will go.

2. Meanwhile, fold the edges of the risen dough over into the middle a few more times with damp hands. Pinch off a large piece of dough (about the size of two fists), and fold the sides over into the middle to make a neat packet.

3. Drop the packet of dough onto a heavily floured surface, and flip to flour both sides. Pat the dough flat, then throw it back and forth between your hands, catching the edge each time as you spin it through the air, like a pizza crust, to stretch it into a circle about 1/4" (1/2cm) thick with a diameter of about 10" (25cm).

You may also stretch and pat the dough out on a flat surface.

4. Remove the tray from the oven. Flip the dough circle over the back of your hand to transfer it and lay it down over the hot rocks. Re-stretch it into a circle, if necessary.

5. Place the tray back in the oven and cook for 5-7 minutes, until the top of the bread has golden brown spots. Repeat with each piece of dough, leaving the rocks in the oven for a few minutes between each one to allow them to come back up to temperature.

6. (Optional): Hold each flatbread directly over a gas flame for a minute or two to blacken a few spots and mimic the flavor that a wood-fired oven would give to your khobz.

You may also use a method similar to the dhungar technique to smoke your bread. Place each piece of bread one at a time into a large vessel with a closely fitting lid, alongside a small bowl. Light a piece of wood on fire and drop it into the bowl; then cover the vessel with the lid as you allow the wood to smoke for a minute or two.

[sunkendreams]

uhh asking for a request of bo and just anything that involves with duct tape 😭😭 gagging or bounding im happy either way

Also love ur work! 🩷💖

souvenir.

➾ pairing ; bo sinclair x fem!reader.

in which bo decides that he’ll take you as his souvenir — a pretty hiker lost in ambrose.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.3K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), DUBCON, drugging, kidnapping, bondage (tape and chains), restraints, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, groping, knifeplay, rough sex, p in v sex, different positions, spitting, choking, bruising, hair-pulling, scratching, marking, use of pet names (good girl, sweetheart, etc.), dom/sub dynamics, begging, dirty talk, edging, creampie, unprotected sex, bo is definitely not nice in this fic

author’s note: this is definitely more of a darker fic, but I actually loved writing it ,,, nothing like gross and horny sex with bo sinclair to get the blood flowing! I hope you all enjoy! Still working on requests, I’m hoping to post a few things this week since I’ve been so busy!

Warm, glittering rays of a vibrant Louisiana sun cut through the thick canopy of trees and marshland, bathing your face in a haze of heat. It was midday — hot and sticky, accompanied by a stifling humidity that was prevalent in the South, not terribly far from a saltwater coastline.

Beneath you was the grass — clutches of wildflowers blossomed amongst strands of emerald, a temporary refuge for you to rest as you savored the outdoors. A town sat in the near-distance, baking away underneath the sun, as evidenced by the paint wearing thin and the asphalt looking gray instead of black.

You’d been hiking by yourself — that was your first mistake. Too brazen and bold enough to be without the company of your friends, and now, subject to the ire of Ambrose’s hidden devils.

It was akin to ringing the dinner bell when Lester had caught wind of your presence through the scope of a well-used Barrett. Once he’d informed Bo over a very colorful phone call, your fate was sealed, doomed to become another pretty fixture in the House of Wax.

There was no getting out of Ambrose — you just didn’t know it yet.

As the glaring sun began to slip behind the verdant canopy above you, you took it as a sign to relocate, trekking the short distance toward the quaint town. You could hear the general buzz and chatter of townsfolk, but there wasn’t a soul in-sight — the ones that were, confined to their eternal tombs.

“Nobody’s home.” You murmured, thumbing the thick straps of your backpack as you sauntered down the middle of the road, glancing at some of the vehicles lining the road. Some appeared brand-new, others showing signs of weathering.

You passed the gas station and row of various houses, making your way toward the church. The distant hum of an organ guided your path, leading you to the steps and to the devil himself.

Bo Sinclair stood in front of a set of white doors, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, a bead of sweat glistening upon his brow. He wore his Sunday best to look the part, gaze flickering toward your pretty, doe-eyed countenance when you’d stopped a few feet away.

A cloud of billowing smoke drifted into the air, a thin gray wisp that dissipated into the staggering heat. He appraised you in an unusual silence, drinking you in, shamelessly admiring the way your jeans clung to your body. Bo’s own fascination was nearly palpable — he still wondered what possessed a girl to go hiking alone.

Maybe you were stupid — he didn’t think so.

“Sermon getting to you?” You hadn’t intended to come off as simpering or awkward, gesturing toward the cigarette in the stranger’s mouth. A chattering ambiance and piano music emanated from inside of the church, and you felt severely underdressed in the presence of this man — the only one you’d seen in the town so far.

A huff escaped him as he ashed his cigarette, granules of charcoal floating towards the steps. “Might need another cigarette if that’s the case,” Bo chortled, taking another long drag. He ogled you again, jaw tensing as he sized you up, unbeknownst to you. “You lost?”

You would do perfectly — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages, that much was for certain.

Bo’s mind worked differently than yours, sinister and callous when compared to your innocuous demeanor. Whilst you stood along the picket-fence, contemplating about finding a good drink of water, Bo was picturing you strapped down to his bed, clothes cut away.

“A little bit,” It was painful for you to confess to being lost, considering how many times you’d traversed the backwoods of Louisiana. The sound of your voice was enough to momentarily sever Bo’s salacious train of thought, watching as you picked at the fading paint along the fence. “Do you know if there’s a convenience store around here or anything?”

He shook his head, motioning down the street. “Closed for th’day, I’m afraid. Lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?” Bo asked, attempting to lay the foundation for you, building a rapport that was surely to break once he got his hands on you. It was all about the building.

You shrugged, withering away beneath the oppressive heat of the midday sun. You wondered how this man was so unusually comfortable within an all-black suit and tie. Nonetheless, you decided to be truthful. “I’m just looking for a quick drink before I hike back to the main road. I’m a little low on water.”

“If you’re willin’ to make the trek, I can take you up to my place. Won’t take long, ten minutes or so.” Bo offered, attempting to sweeten the deal. It was akin to a predator skillfully drawing their prey inward, making it difficult to resist. He took another lengthy drag of his cigarette before smashing it against the concrete with the toe of his boot.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” Admittedly, you felt intrusive — a meddlesome presence amidst a quiet, peaceful town. You felt even worse interrupting a church service, but Bo didn’t seem phased whatsoever. “I don’t want to distract you from church, either.”

Bo scoffed, lips twitching into something sardonic, one hand perched atop his hip. “Don’t think th’good Lord really cares a whole lot for me these days,” He mused, and you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “Let me take you up there.” He motioned for you to follow him.

Leaving the white chapel behind, you walked alongside him, somewhat smitten by his Southern drawl and charismatic charm. Beads of sweat glistened along his brow, and he promptly loosened his tie as the two of you made it toward a stretch of beaten-up road.

“Name’s Bo, by th’way. Forgot my manners.” Bo mused, making sure to really lay on the flirtation and appeal. It wasn’t hard for him to tell how flustered you were already — and he fully intended on manipulating such a fact.

“Nice to meet you, Bo.” You smiled, cordial and polite as you sauntered alongside him. “How long have you lived here in Ambrose? It seems so far from the rest of civilization.” It was out of reach, away from the rest of the world, a world that was impervious to the sinister deeds of the Sinclairs.

Unfortunately, you were now in their territory, subject to their rules and ire.

Bo chuckled, shamelessly stealing glances at you whenever possible. You were gorgeous — a looker with a sweet demeanor. He wanted to lick that sweetness right off of you, drain it all, keep it for himself. “Lived here for most of my life. Town’s real quiet, jus’ known for the House of Wax.”

Intrigue glistened upon your features, and you recalled the sign that you’d spotted during your hike — Trudy’s infamous House of Wax. The building itself sat in the distance, nestled amongst a cluster of hills. Even that seemed relatively dormant.

“It’s nice here, really peaceful. You must get used to the silence.” You replied, stepping up the incline as Bo gently steadied you with one arm. You murmured a soft ‘thank you’ as a house came into view, rustic yet large. This must’ve been Bo’s home. “Is this it?”

He motioned toward the house, wrapping his tie around his hand as he loosened up his collar. “Yeah, this is it. We’ll go on inside, you can sit an’ I’ll get you fixed up with somethin’ for the road.” Bo chimed, making his way to the front door.

Bo let you inside, gesturing toward the couch and recliner that sat in the living room. It was a very well lived-in home, but you didn’t seem to mind. You moved toward the couch, finally able to sit somewhere comfortable and relax, placing your backpack beside you.

“Thank you for doing this, Bo. I appreciate it.” You piped up, watching as he moved toward the kitchen. The interior of the home felt warm and inviting, littered with plenty of things to look at. There was ample opportunity for Bo to take matters into his own hands.

One of the cupboards in the kitchen had what he needed, a syringe filled with some strange concoction, a thicker liquid. His dark gaze darted toward you, distracted by your surroundings. Bo took the syringe, discreetly keeping it by his side as he stepped behind you, offering you a water bottle.

“‘Course. Heat’s pretty bad in these parts.” He replied, and you immediately unscrewed the lid, greedily drinking several gulps of icy water. Bo was close, hovering above you with a manic look in his eyes.

Before you had time to properly react, his hand closed around the underside of your jaw, squeezing tight to hold you steady. The intrusive, cold prick of a needle digging into your neck made you scream, but Bo had you in a rather uncomfortable chokehold.

“Shh, shh,” He soothed, stroking at your hair. Everything felt numb, and you could no longer feel anything in your arms and legs, reduced to simple tingling sensations. Your cries were in vain, throaty and hoarse as you sank into the couch, limp and lifeless. “Jus’ relax. All that strugglin’ is gonna make it worse.”

Your eyes felt heavy, beginning to close with a weight to them — the last thing you remembered was the glimpse of Bo’s insidious smirk and dark hues before you’d been rendered unconscious.

———————————————————————————

The scratch of duct-tape reverberated around the concrete cellar, obnoxiously close to your ear, causing you to involuntarily wince. The haze of unconsciousness was lifting, but that sound — it made you groan, unpleasant and invasive. You attempted to move as the heaviness wore away in your limbs, but you had no such luck.

You were in the underbelly of some cold, dingy cellar, cement walls lined in grainy polaroids, tools, and obscene amounts of sex toys. An icy, uncomfortable sensation began to pool within the pit of your stomach, and you tried to jerk against the tape around your wrists.

A strange, unsettling chill fluttered about your body, causing you to shudder. Your hiking boots were nowhere to be found, flannel stolen too, leaving you in your shorts and tank top. Something felt intrusive, as if there was an outside presence bearing down on you, crawling beneath your flesh.

Bo was standing at the foot of a strange chair, stained with months-old cruor, dressed differently than before. A pair of mechanic’s coveralls were stained with grease and oil, dark enough to conceal bloodstains. He bit at the strip of duct-tape, clutching it between his teeth as he bound you, keeping you restrained.

“W—Wait,” You babbled, and suddenly, the heightened sensation of fear and startlement blistered through you, visceral and volatile. “Please don’t do this.” Your whimpers fell on deaf ears as Bo continued his mission, sweat layered in a thin sheen along his temples.

Death in a town that wasn’t on the map was a fate worse than any other — you would rot into the ground with no one to find you, only the animals and trees would know; bear witness. You would cease to exist and become a memory, a painful one, eternally trapped within Ambrose.

“You can make this real easy on yourself,” Bo’s husky, dark drawl emerged from the bitter chill of the cellar, roughened hands sliding along your legs. “All you gotta do is behave for me, yeah?” He stood above you, a twisted version of the man you’d met at the church — or perhaps, the real him.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling vulnerable and exposed in your current position. Your hands were bound on either side of you with many rings of duct-tape, legs chained to the floor, yet there was some room for you to walk — if that were even possible. You shivered, mostly from the oppressive cold of the basement coupled with fear.

“Please,” Your chest felt tight, fear unfurling from your ribcage as it spread across your body. A shudder rolled down your spine when Bo grabbed your chin, thumb stroking along your lower lip. “Please don’t kill me.”

Something about this place told you that he’d killed before — they’d been in the very same spot that you were now. A sinister, lascivious gleam glimmered within his dark eyes as they raked over your body, lips curling into a smirk.

“Didn’t say anything about killin’ you, beautiful.” Bo corrected, digits beginning to squeeze your chin, putting pressure on your jaw. “But I might change my mind if y’make this hard for me.” His other hand moved toward your shorts, unbuttoning the front as he ripped the zipper down in one swift movement.

You began to squirm, mortified and flustered as you fought against the tape wrapped around your wrists — but it wasn’t any use. “Don’t.” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper as he gave you a pointed look.

Bo scoffed, head cocking to one side. “Be a shame if I gotta shut that pretty mouth of yours, too.” It wasn’t a warning, but a threat, a promise — one that he intended to make good on if you weren’t careful. “Gonna open up for me?” He crooned.

There was something hideous about him touching you — and even more so was the disgusting fact that you wanted to let him do it. He was handsome at the church, all a facade of Southern charm and debonair wit, but this was something else entirely.

With a defeated, pitiful expression, you began to part your legs, and that was akin to victory for Bo. His dark chuckle made you shiver, feeling his hand brusquely tug and wrestle with your shorts, inching them down your legs. “You’re real pretty,” He uttered, looking you in the eyes. “Prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages.”

Heat pooled within the pit of your stomach, and you clenched your hands into fists, nearly whimpering when he ghosted his fingers across your clothed cunt. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction — this was wrong, depraved on so many levels, but you found yourself submitting instead of retaliating.

A strangled whimper escaped you as he rounded the chair, standing right in front of you as he planted a kiss against your forehead. “Bet you’re all wet from this, huh?” He husked, voice kept to a low growl as he slipped his fingers into your panties.

Arousal had collected there, slick and warm upon his digits. Part of you wanted to melt into the chair and disappear, muscles tense and taut as you worked to suppress your whining.

“Fuck, look at that,” Bo sneered, greedily sucking your nectar right from his fingers, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. “Guess I was right.” His hand returned to your aching cunt, the other wrangling your panties aside, movements harsh and rough.

You hated that it felt good, offered you a sliver of relief — you wanted to scratch at your restraints, thighs beginning to quiver. A string of incoherent babbling escaped you, mumbled pleas for him to stop. It was quite the juxtaposition to your hips, which happened to lurch forward into his hand.

Bo bullied his way in between your legs, spreading you apart as he lowered himself to his knees — unexpected, but you still felt embarrassed. “Gonna have to have a taste of this pretty cunt,” With a gravelly hum, he grabbed your thighs, unceremoniously spitting a wad of saliva onto your throbbing cunt. “Don’t move.”

“Bo,” It was almost involuntary, moaning his name as you jolted forward, mouth agape. Bo’s grin felt like a hot brand against your inner thigh as he clamped his hands down into your legs, hard enough to cause bruises. “P—Please.” You sputtered.

Part of you felt terribly embarrassed for enjoying yourself at the hands of this man who’d kidnapped you, your innocence being taken advantage of. His calloused, rough hands spread you apart, broad tongue licking a stripe along the length of your slit.

Bo was eating you out like a man starved, breath hot and heavy as he savored you with his lips, tongue swirling across your cunt. His hands groped into your haunches, against the swell of your pliant flesh, practically forcing your hips to tilt into his face as he buried his head between your legs.

With a wanton moan, you slouched back into the rigid frame of the chair, listening to it creak and groan as you writhed around. The manacles that shackled you to the concrete rustled with your movements, fingers curling into your palms. His tongue was deliberate and slow, teasing you with every stroke.

You tried to smother your noises, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he was ten steps ahead of you. “Can’t hear you, sweetheart,” Bo stopped, ceasing any further contact until you submitted to him. “Gonna have to beg for it, I s’pose.” His sigh was theatrical and badgering, forcing you to whimper.

A simpering, choked-up noise escaped from the back of your throat, desperation beginning to mount as you jerked and jolted forward. Bo simply sat still, attempting to smother that smarmy, devilish grin of his as you shook your head back and forth. “Please keep going, please!” You cried.

Bo clicked his tongue, seemingly unimpressed and dismissive, reaching for the knife that sat in his back pocket. “Ain’t ever met a girl this ungrateful. You rather I stop an’ get this all over with?” His voice was vitriolic, full of a manipulative venom that only served to drag you deeper into his pit.

The sharp, icy blade suddenly traced over your legs, goosebumps erupting in its wake as you shook your head. You didn’t want Bo to hurt you — the idea of being harmed, of being so helpless — it frightened you. Bo enjoyed seeing that little pang of fear within your doe eyes as he prodded the tip of razor-sharp silver into your flesh.

“I’m sorry,” You gasped, stumbling over your words and babbling, restless within the chair. “Bo, please! I — I’ll be loud, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt me.” It was a gushing string of pleas and begging that didn’t go unnoticed this time.

With soft shushing, Bo sighed, kissing along your inner thigh as he dug his nails into your flesh. It was rough enough to make you feel the burning sting of pain, chest heaving with labored breaths as he nudged his lips against your cunt again. “I think I’m gonna keep you for m’self, how’s that sound?” He uttered.

“Good, good,” You nodded. “I — I want you, please keep going.” Whatever bite and edge you had before had diminished completely, shadowed by his dark, domineering nature. It was hard for anything to break through that barrier of his. He retracted the knife, then and there.

A cajoling chuckle escaped him, one filled with mockery and a duplicitous edge as he lapped at your cunt once more. His tongue was like hot coals, raking across your slit with a wanton need, fingers grabbing and groping at the meat of your thighs.

His cock twitched within his jeans, desperate to be inside of you, make you scream. You wanted to grab at his tousled tresses or grip onto his shoulders, but the duct-tape prevented you from going anywhere, digging into your wrists.

Bo savored you as if you were some delectable meal, licking his lips before toying with your clit. His mouth was feather-light and teasing that bundle of nerves, enough to make you contort within the chair. A strangled moan left you, noisy and desperate, wrought with desire.

“Please, Bo, please,” You breathed, and when your thighs threatened to squeeze his face, he roughly pushed you apart, gazing at you from between your legs. The duct-tape chafed at your flesh, uncomfortably tight around your wrists as you writhed, hips bucking forward. “Please!” You were nearly sobbing.

All inhibitions had been abandoned — you were his now, reduced to his pretty plaything, all spread out on a silver platter. Molten heat surged through you when he lapped at your cunt, hand slipping down as he teased your entrance, giving you no warning as two digits sank into you.

A blissful whine left you, head rolling back against the chair as he nudged your clit, just enough to keep you chasing after that sensation. Bo was undeniably cruel, grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud, causing you to squirm and shiver, all sound escaping you.

“Sing pretty for me,” Bo’s husky, Southern purr emerged from between your thighs, teeth nicking your thigh before he finally began to suck on your clit. His thick digits pistoned in and out of your weeping cunt, providing you with an overwhelming barrage of pleasure. “That’s it.” He huffed, lurching forward.

The rattling of chains couldn’t rip you from the moment as liquid heat coalesced between your legs, with Bo’s chin steeped in your arousal. You moaned again, flexing against your restraints, stomach churning with an anticipation that made you want to melt.

Bo grunted, greedily lapping at your sweet cunt, fingers beginning to curl into that sweet spot, prompting you to choke on any sound that bubbled within your throat. He was like a predator, with you in his clutches, a rabbit trapped within the jaws of a wolf.

With another barrage of practiced licks, he continued his onslaught against your clit, eliciting a myriad of sinful, inhuman sounds from you. Bo — it was the only word that fell from your lips like some chant, and he didn’t stop, feeling your knees buckle and shake around him.

His digits buried themselves into your tight cunt, sluggishly rocking in and out as he sucked on your clit. It sent you careening over the edge, lost to a white-hot explosion of ecstasy as you came, moaning and shivering, a complete and utter mess.

He was the devil — pearlescent teeth glinting in the low, buzzing light of the cellar. The shadows moved in a way that made him seem sinister. You were surprised that he didn’t have horns and a forked tongue, but it was likely a trick of the eyes. You huffed, fading away into your post-orgasm haze, but Bo was far from finished.

“We ain’t done just yet,” He uttered, licking his lips as he moved up from between your legs, hand gripping your chin as he dragged you forward. Bo made you open your mouth, head tilted backward as he leaned in, countenance contorting into a sneer. “Got a little gift for you, for bein’ good.”

A wad of his saliva landed upon your tongue, and you nearly choked, feeling filthy and vulnerable. His eyes glistened with an insidious shade, shadowed and bemused as he closed your mouth, forcing you to swallow his spit.

Bo was expectant, waiting for you to say something — but when nothing emerged, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Where’s your manners?” He reminded you, patting your jaw like he would a beloved dog.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, somewhat shrewd as Bo grinned, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You squirmed again when Bo began to unzip the front of his pants, breathing noticeably heavier and wrought with unrestrained excitement.

“Now,” Bo hummed, fishing his cock from the confines of his jeans. His erection was thick and heavy within his calloused palm, oozing with pearls of precum. With a step in your direction, he pressed the head of his cock against your cunt. “M’gonna fuck you right.”

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, letting out another moan as he teased your entrance, hooking his hands around your hips. Bo was rough and callous, dragging you forward as he sank his cock into you, grunting at the tightness and warmth.

Another wanton moan escaped you, back beginning to arch as he thrust forward, chest rippling with grunts and subtle growls. Lewd, crass noises reverberated throughout the cellar, the only ambiance that you could really focus on. His shadow eclipsed the stark glare of the light, gaze fixated on you.

Bo’s eyes were shadowed, brewing with something dark yet indecipherable. He began to adopt a very brutal pace, cock pounding away at your poor cunt. You hadn’t done this in so long, to the point where it felt borderline unfamiliar. You sputtered and moaned, feeling one of his hands abandon your leg.

That rough, calloused hand of his found its way to your slender neck, digits squeezing at your throat. It wasn’t particularly gentle, but not enough to completely rob you of air. You whined, unable to keep from watching the way his cock disappeared again and again into your sweet, oozing cunt.

You wanted to grab onto him, onto his arm, chest, anything — instead, you were met with harsh resistance from the duct-tape. “Bo,” You moaned, hips rolling in-tandem with his movements. Bo hunched closer, hand tight around your throat as his thumb pressed into your jugular, causing you to wince. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Bo’s voice dropped to a lower octave, cock rutting away into you with a rough, unyielding amount of force. If he went any harder, he might’ve threatened to split you in half. “Fuck, you’re nice n’tight. Can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. You like bein’ tied down an’ fucked by a stranger?” He uttered, and you began to stammer.

A wave of liquid heat burned bright within the pit of your stomach, a flame that only grew in intensity as he kept up with his brutal ministrations. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his cock at his words, causing you to shiver again. “I—I …” You didn’t know what to say, embarrassed and ashamed.

Bo scoffed, voice tapering off into a grunt as he continued to rut forward, cock buried inside of you until he could go no further. “Got you so fucked you can’t even speak,” He sneered, grip tightening on your throat. It was bound to leave some sort of mark, but you knew he didn’t care. “You gonna behave?”

Your head bobbed up and down several times over, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.” You squeaked, watching with blown-out pupils as he reached for the knife, cutting you loose from the duct-tape. Though, once your hands were free, you were being dragged onto the cold concrete on your stomach.

The steely, sharp bite of the knife sliced through your tank top like butter, leaving you completely exposed to Bo, who remained entirely clothed. Goosebumps coalesced along your spine from the icy temperature of the ground, feeling his hand close into your hair as he fucked you from behind.

His cock battered away at your cunt, stretching you in ways that you never thought possible. It was harsh and intrusive, digits tugging on your hair, wrangling you like you were molded from obsidian. Bo savored the sensation of you rocking back into him, thighs quivering like a leaf.

Your eyes flickered toward the muted brick wall on your left, met with a garish display of polaroids — other girls, girls like you. You had a feeling that none of them had lived to tell the tale.

A pang of dread consumed you, followed by fear — you hoped that you wouldn’t end up on that wall too, immortalized in some sick photograph. Instead, you wanted to increase your chances of survival, moaning and whimpering his name, forehead snug against the concrete.

“You wanna cum?” Bo asked nonchalantly, spoken through labored breathing as his thrusts became quick and sporadic. He was close, cock throbbing inside of you as his other hand clawed bruises and marks into the swell of your hips.

“Yes,” You didn’t hesitate, moaning again when he dug his nails into your flesh, causing you to squirm from discomfort. “Please, Bo! I want you to let me cum!” Desperation was laced within your voice, high-pitched and simpering as he let go of your hip.

“Good girl,” Bo grunted, somewhat perplexed by you. “Finally usin’ your manners.” He reached between your thighs, slathered in your slick and his precum, thumb rubbing circles into your clit. Your back began to arch, pushing back into him as he fucked you like a wild animal, chains clanking against the floor.

Pleasure rippled through you in blistering waves, coupled with the faint sting of pain that radiated from your hip. Bo grunted, breath hot and strenuous as he fucked you senseless, pounding away at your cunt with little regard for your comfort. His thumb toyed with your clit, causing you to writhe and moan.

With another harsh rut of his hips, Bo grunted, pushing his hips forward as he came inside of you, ropes of white-hot seed flooding your cunt. His brow glistened with perspiration as he pulled his cock free, leaving you with the mess of it all, haphazardly smeared between your legs.

Bo, in all his cruelty, tore his hand away from your clit, leaving you a throbbing mess, edged to the brink. You wanted to beg for him to continue, but you were spent, hot flesh soothed by the cold temperature of the floor.

“W—Wait,” Your protests were weak, but still strung-out with desperation. “Aren’t you going to keep going?” There was a little sliver of hope within your voice, but he relented, lips curling into a bemused smirk as he gave your ass a light smack.

“Changed my mind.”

You hated him.

For a moment, you saw red, frustrated without any semblance of relief, but also in misery over your current situation. You didn’t know what to do or say — and the last thing you wanted was for him to become angry with you. You didn’t want to become a permanent fixture on his wall of past trophies.

He stood up, hovering above you as you sheepishly rolled onto your back. Bo’s unsteady, dangerous leer sent shivers down your spine, watching as he stared at you for several moments. “Guessin’ you’ll last longer than the rest have,” He crooned, swiping his tongue across his lower lip. “Go on.”

His head jerked toward the chair, signaling you to climb back in. Your legs quivered in the aftermath of being fucked stupid, and you awkwardly reached for your panties and shorts, but Bo intercepted you. Wordlessly, you sat down in the leather seat, naked and entirely vulnerable.

“Keep you like that for when I come back.” Bo’s Southern purr made you shudder as you trembled, both from fear and from the cold. He couldn’t help but take a little bit of pity on you, tossing you a blanket from the old mattress that sat several feet away from you.

Something about being left entirely alone, naked and used in this basement, made you more terrified than anything else. You didn’t want to be left alone with just your thoughts. Even if Bo had kidnapped you, he was more tolerable than solitude. “You’ll come back?” You asked.

Bo huffed, retrieving his baseball cap. “Maybe,” He could see the hint of fear that had glossed over your eyes. “Maybe I’ll leave you down here an’ let you rot.” His voice was somewhat vitriolic, but undecided — part of you knew that he couldn’t leave you alone after this.

You would take the physicality over being isolated.

Silence drifted between the both of you as your legs shifted, the sound of clanking manacles providing the only bit of ambiance. Bo made for the iron-wrought door, standing in the doorway to give you one last look. Even in your disheveled state, you were beautiful — and now?

You belonged to him.

Before Bo shut the door, his lips twitched into the ghost of a devilish smirk. “Guess I’ll see you soon.”

[tosuckmyweenis]

Slow Down

Seen posts about Leon being an absolute menace to society, and now my brain goes brr for Mean!Leon driving way too fast while you beg him to slow down. So I decided to try my hand at writing something what was supposed to be small turned into a novel oop. My digital footprint is ruined already. Poor format. Loss of italics when uploading and too lazy to fix

TW, mean!Leon, patronizing nicknames, unprotected sex, creampie, dub-con/coercion/non-con, threats of tree wrapping in the beginning, outdoor sex, AFAB anatomy, not totally yan! But definitely a little sus. praising is involved(Russ's song gave me an earworm)

"Leon, please slow down; you're going too fast!" you grabbed the handle above the door, trying to brace yourself against it.

"Aw, is this too fast for you, Baby? I thought you liked it fast." He teased, stepping on the gas just a little more

"You're going to get us killed!" you shrieked. Breathing coming in short and sharp, you could hear your racing heartbeat in your ears. Squeezing your eyes closed.

"nonsense, I know how to drive. If we crash, it's because you didn't listen. So what are you going to do?"

You heard the thunk of the mirror being pulled down. You have no idea how fast he was going, but it was way above what's safe and would be fatal should anything happen.

"Lift your dress and spread your legs for me. Then, I'll slow down." Leon pressed down on the gas to prove his point. 

"I- I'm scared," your voice cracking and coming out pathetically.

"clock is ticking; we're running out of road. You wouldn't want to take turns at this speed, would you?" You could hear the click of his tongue. 

Opening your eyes and taking in a shaky breath, you spread your legs as far as they would go, accidentally knocking on the door with your knee. Blue eyes flick to the mirror, licking his lips while taking in your thighs and lacy panties.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it? Wearing my favourite pair too."

He let off the gas letting it coast down

"You know it's only a little fun, and I'd never do anything to hurt you."

reaching over and placing his hand on your thigh, giving it a few squeezes before rubbing circles, making his way to your inner thigh, pinky brushing along your clothed slit, making you shudder

"You're going to do what I say, right, Sweetheart?"

nodding your head, like you even had a choice, willing to do anything to get home in one piece.

"move them to the side so I can see what I can do to your pretty little cunt" his eyes spent more time looking into the mirror than on the road. Thankfully, there was barely anyone travelling it

No wonder he crashes so often

the vulgar words leaving his mouth, making heat rise to your cheeks, a dizzying feeling flooding your body, making you lightheaded.

Fingers gently ghosted over his hand while they continued the ministrations on your thigh, moving his pinky out of the way temporarily so you could hook your two fingers into the band of your dampening panties pulling them to the side and exposing yourself to him.

Moving his hand entirely off your thigh, moving to stroke his middle and ring finger up and down your cunt, gathering arousal and spreading it before sliding down and slowly pushing into your entrance to the first knuckle, curling them to find your sweet spot, massaging walls until he found it

"Aah, right there...please,"  your whimpered words edging him on as he fucked his fingers into you faster, grinding the top of his palm against your clit; "mmh," lowering your head, lips parted, letting out puffs of air, feeling the heat build in your gut, you grind your hips into his hand,

"you're being such a good girl," he cooed

removing his hand

"Hold on, sweet thing; I'll give you something better in a minute."

pulling over to the side of the road and shutting the car off,

"Take those off now." 

leaning over, unbuckling your seatbelt and his, lifting your hips, you dragged the silky lace down and off.

"get out of the car and put your hands on the hood, face forward."

"Yes, Sir"

getting out of the car and following his instructions placing your hands on the cool metal of the car, leaning over, you watched as he climbed out and shut the door with a slam. You watched him take a significant stride toward you until he was out of your vision and directly behind you. Roughly gripping your hips, pulling them back to meet his own, hard cock grinding against you.

"Do you see what you do to me, Baby?"

Leaning his body over yours, placing light kisses on your shoulder, and tearing out a breathy moan.

"Beg for it." hiking, your dress up, wandering hands groped and kneaded your ass.

"Please, please fuck me; I need you," pleading, trying to push back against him.

"Next time, you'll be on your knees."

you could hear him shuffle, tugging his pants down just enough to free himself before sinking himself in, starting a fast pace snapping his hips into yours, pressing a hand into the middle of your back, forcing your chest to the hood with a thud, feeling the weight of him on top of you, making sure you couldn't get up

"You're so wet for me, baby; you like this, yeah? You like being fucked on the side of the road where anyone could drive by and see how good you take me? How good I make you feel; oh Fuck..yeah, that's it, God..You were made for me." 

Clenching around him, moaning at the mix of praises spilling from his heavenly lips, edging you on. His cock hitting all the right places to make you see stars and feel the heat start to build in your lower abdomen again.

"Leon...Ahh...m'not gunna last much longer." 

"That's ok, baby, cum for me; I want you to. You deserve it for being such a good girl for me," he purred in your ear, hips rutting into you.

Letting out a loud moan as heat spreads to the rest of your body, legs shaking 

"You're doing such a good job, sweetheart. Just a little longer, and I'll fill you up." 

He pounded at your over-sensitive cunt, desperately trying to reach his peak. After a few more thrusts, his hips stuttered before thrusting himself as deep as he could go, feeling the pulsing as he came, pushing down on you a little harder while he recovered. Stepping back to savor the sinful sight dripping out of you.

[konekoling]

Hi hello since the states are gonna get blasted with cold soon I figured I'd shave some Helpful Cold Survival Advice I've absorbed as someone who lives in an area that hits -50C/-58F temperatures periodically

-Starting with a somewhat obvious one, but HOLY SHIT DO NOT BRING BARBECUES, GENERATORS, OR ANY OTHER FORM OF OUTDOOR HEAT SOURCE INSIDE FOR WARMTH. CO poisoning WILL kill you if you don't accidentally start a fire in the process.

-If you wanna stay in your car and turn the heat up for warmth DO NOT do it in the garage. Again. CO poisoning.

-You can turn up your stove/ oven and crack the oven door open in an emergency if you have zero other heat sources available, but only if its electric (Gas stoves will generate carbon mono...yeah you get it already), and even then its going to be much less energy efficient than a normal space heater, and you're gonna want to stay nearby while it's on to make sure you don't start a fire.

-Don't plug a space heater into a power bar or extention cord unless you're 100% sure it has a high quality cord. They need an absurd amount of power to run, and most extention cords in particular aren't insulated enough to handle those levels of power without becoming a fire hazard. And for the love of God, don't run multiple heaters on one power bar.

-Candles don't actually do much to generate heat unless you're ina very small area, but they ARE an excellent light source should power go out

- tragically, the best way to keep warm in the absence of home heating is through boring ol layering, especially on your feet and head. Avoid jeans, as they're somehow terrible at heat retention despite how thick they are, and throw on a pair of long underwear/leggings if you have some. Also feel free to pile as many blankets as you own on top of yourself, you deserve it.

-Youre gonna want to stay well fed, too. Keeping your body temperature up in the cold is pretty calorically demanding, AND the digestive process tends to heat your body up as well. Its a win/win.

-Also unfortunate: another excellent way to stay warm is through your enemy and mine, physical activity. Every half hour or so, pace around your living space to get the ol blood pumping a bit.

-If you get wet outside while it's substantially cold out, get inside as soon as possible bc that WILL suck the heat from your body. This goes for sweat too, so layer responsibly if you're out shoveling

-Electric blankets are a scam, don't buy them.

-heating pads and heated mattress covers are less of a scam, but don't fall asleep with them on bc once again, fire hazard.

-If you have any faucets in your house that don't see a lot of use/you live somewhere that doesn't usually see cold weather, keep all your faucets on just a bit so your pipes don't freeze and/or explode. This WILL cost thousands of dollars to fix.

-Likewise, if you're traveling for the holidays see if you can have someone come by to turn the faucets on every day or two so you don't come home to find your house sunk into the ground

-ALSO if you're traveling and think "hm, I think I'll turn off the heat while I'm out to save some money that is the devil speaking, do NOT listen. (Heating helps keep the pipes warm and unfrozen)

-Fill your bathtub up with water and/or stock up on bottled water if you're gonna be getting unusually cold temperatures in case your pipes DO freeze, since you're probably not gonna want to hit up the store should this occur

-Stay off the roads if you can help it. Turbocold weather makes cars periodically fail to start, and also the second snow touches the ground people somehow forget how to drive.

-IMO If it's below -38C before windchill, you have a substantial commute, and you have any PTO/can afford to miss a shift at work, don't bother going in. Just lie and say your car wouldn't start.

-If you absolutely need to go to work/go out for whatever reason, take public transit if possible. If thats not possible, keep some blankets, food, candles, and a lighter in your car in case the battery dies on the road so you can stay toasty and Alive until help arrives.

Probably gonna add more as I remember it, but thems the basics! Stay warm!

[grillpartshub-blog]

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[newdejavuu]

hey! if you are going to the dallas or woodlands, tx show - listen up!

I don’t fault fall out boy (or their managers) for this but I can’t help but emphasize how stupid it is to book an outdoor show in texas for the end of june!! people outside of texas truly don’t understand how fucking hot it gets this time of year — and unless you experience it for yourself, you won’t get it.

temperatures right now are above 100 degrees Fahrenheit and "feel" much hotter than that due to humidity and UV index.

if you are going to the woodland or dallas show this week, please, please be careful!!!

as a lifelong texan who has endured this hellish heat for my whole life, here are some very important tips for surviving the summer weather (& not passing out):

be sure to hydrate days before the event (starting tonight!) drink mostly water, & if you have them, add those little hydration iv packets as well!

I would highly, highly recommend that you don’t drink alcohol at the event. alcohol is a diuretic and will dehydrate you!!! I would really recommend only drinking water (no diet coke, soda, or other beverages with caffeine, this is a diuretic too!)

check if your venue allows you to bring food & drink (I have heard the dos equis pavilion is allowing snacks! & outside water) & if they do — BRING THEM

eat before the show!! a full meal, not just nibbles of food. eat something rich in all major food groups: carbs, proteins and fats! (most people I have encountered pass out from a mixture of not eating & dehydration)

be conscious of your clothing — wear light colored, breathable fabric like cotton or linen (it’s going to be too fucking hot to make a fashion statement. TRUST ME!)

get to the venue later than you normally would. people in GA, I really really would advise against spending all afternoon in the sun, camping out. if you want to wait in the parking lot, do so in the comfort of your air conditioned car!! (i promise you, getting barricade at a fall out boy show is not worth passing out)

wear a hat!! & bring sunnies (sunglasses) if you are going to be outside before the sun sets

this part of texas DOES NOT cool down at night, so be prepared!!

dicks sporting goods & five below sell those cooling towels for under five bucks, please get one!!

most importantly, listen to your body!!! if you are feeling woozy, ill, lightheaded, nauseous or otherwise NOT RIGHT -- sit down, get help from staff, and get out of the heat!!!!

I’m not kidding when I say that it’s dangerous this time of year to be somewhere outdoors without air conditioning. we, texans, don’t go outside in the summer for a reason!!

[the-possum-writes]

a finn nsfw alphabet please :)

(I don't speak English that's why so sharp) no se si se entendio

Finn Mertens NS/FW Alphabet

A/n: No te preocupes también hablo español nvn Yippi my first alphabet!

Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

A = Aftercare

He's very affectionate and somewhat clingy, Finn would lay with you for a while before getting you a towel or something to eat/drink.

B = Body part

Finn likes his arms and hands even though they're calloused or riddled with tiny scars, because they remind him that he's strong enough to protect you from many evildoers.

As for his partner's, I'd say he isn't picky but he does like any part of you he can grab a handful and squeeze when cuddling (boobs, tummy, thigh)

C = Cum

It's kinda bitter to the taste because he really likes junk food, but beside that, it's usually a healthy creamy color and a jelly like consistency. He likes cumming inside and over you but would wear condoms if you ask him to, is particularly fond of dirtying your chest and/or face.

D = Dirty Secret

Back during his younger years he'd have this one fantasy about saving someone and they'd give their thanks via a favor of the oral kind. Maybe someday he'll tell you about it for a role play session.

E = Experience

Quite experienced. Finn is well liked, popular, has the confidence and carisma to smooch princesses during the breezy episode so that leads me to think he's gonna get around more often once he's older.

F = Favourite Position

Depending on his mood. If Finn has been out adventuring and hasn't seen you in a while he'd be all over you and would want to be as close to you as possible, like spooning behind you or simplistic missionary. But if he just came back from fighting a monster you know it still has his his blood pumping, he'd wanna take you down to pound town either doggy style or mating press.

G = Goofy

Finn is a silly guy, he'd say a pun or two if he's feeling inspired in the moment. He would also start chuckling if your body makes flatulent-like noises (when a little of air gets trapped in between thrusts and sounds like a gas because of the lube/sweat) during a heated session.

H = Hair

Doesn't usually groom himself downstairs so it's kinda bushy, like sometimes he'll trim it if he's in the shower and notices it's getting out of hand but most of the time Finn doesn't really care that much. You can sorta tell when was the last time he groomed himself (without seeing him naked) by measuring the hair length on his face and head. The color is a bit darker than the blond ones on his head, but still fairly similar.

I = Intimacy

Finn is very romantic, he's one to take things slow and enjoy the moment. He's attentive to your needs and a general sweetheart overall but he can also get overexcited at times and drives you to tears with pleasure, he would make sure you feel loved afterwards, spewing compliments and how much he loves you.

J = Jack Off

Finn didn't really jack off that often before meeting you since he shared a room with his bro but he would occasionally rub one off in the bathroom if he was in the mood. After meeting you though, he'd much rather satisfy that urge with you than alone, but if he's far away during a mission for PB he'd choose to wait it out until he got back to you.

L = Location

There's always the comfort and familiarity of your bedroom but another top contender would be the outdoors, he travels alot so camping in a tent in the middle of nowhere can be very relaxing for him, especially with no one around so he can have you as noisy as he wants.

M = Motivation

Anything you do has his neurons activate no matter if you're dancing, bending over the shelves or wearing that cute new outfit you bought the other day. But if you really wanna push all his buttons at once you just need to grab your weapon of choice and go adventuring with him, the moment he sees you fighting off monsters he'll be all over you like a bee on a flower.

N = NO

Finn doesn't like seeing you hurt, so anything with sharp objects or degrading vocabulary isn't on the table for him.

O = Oral

Prefers to be on the receiving end. Isn't that good at giving cause he gets sloppy lost in it and doesn't coordinate his hands when added to the mix.

P = Pace

Depending on his mood. But most of the time, rough and enthusiastic.

Q = Quickie

Isn't against the idea of lazy sex in the morning, but he'd rather do things properly to savor you instead of rushing it.

R = Risk

Doesn't take risks regarding public locations. Finn is resilient to most pains so he's willing to try out new things like impact play or wax play on himself, kinda unsure about bondage on himself but is interested in seeing you tied up.

S = Stamina

Impecable stamia. You'll never be able to outlast him and if you dare challenge him you can bet you'll be sore for days.

T = Toy

Wouldn't mind the occasional vibrator to tease and prepare you with, though that's about it cause the dildos makes him a teeny bit jealous (he wishes it was him instead) .

He doesn't own any toys himself since he doesn't jack it on his own, nor would he be interested in any on him. (might be open to you wearing a strap on if you ask enough)

U = Unfair

Fair. Finn enjoys teasing as long as it's in the bedroom like when you point out how badly he's spilling precum, however he's not a fan of it in public cause it's very obvious when he gets flustered since his face turns all shades of red. Just be warned, if you do tease him he'll return it once you two get some alone time.

V = Volume

Learned to be quiet back at the tree house but when you get him alone he can get unabashedly loud. Can go from desperate whimpers to legitimate growling.

W = Wild Card

Is most likely a switch, leans more to a sub role cause he likes being told what to do (Bubblegum sending him out to missions, and being Marceline's henchman awoke something in him)

X = X-Ray

Average size, roughly around 8 inches, he's a grower. Uncut, shaft is a bit darker than his usual skin tone with a bright tip.

Y = Yearning

Moderately high, like even when he's not a young man anymore with his hormones all over the place he still get riled up pretty easily.

Z = ZZZ

It takes a while for him to go to sleep, mainly because he waits until you're out first.