#river rock pathway

[r-gelard]

Portland Maine Vegetable Garden Landscape This is an illustration of a sizable, traditional, summertime backyard mulch landscaping.

[simsforevermore]

Portland Maine Vegetable Garden Inspiration for a sizable, traditional, summertime, mulch landscaping backyard.

[fishmaelly]

Traditional Landscape An example of a large traditional full sun backyard mulch landscaping in summer.

[teddy-bear-naps-and-random-snaps]

[the-alternate-realities]

[important-videoshow]

Chicago Pathway An example of a large traditional backyard stone garden path.

[dustbowlugly]

River Rock Landscape in Austin

[bluefuzzball]

Brick Pavers - Mediterranean Landscape An example of a small mediterranean drought-tolerant and partial sun front yard brick garden path.

[fashionsforlovers]

River Rock Landscape in Austin

[stormdthecastle]

Natural Stone Pavers - Traditional Landscape Here is an illustration of a medium-sized traditional shade front yard with a stone retaining wall.

[sarpedom]

Front Yard - Traditional Landscape Ideas for summer gravel landscaping in a medium-sized traditional front yard with full sun.

[elainehill]

River Rock Landscape in Austin

[alexanderwales]

There are two gods, Bouba and Kiki.

Bouba is a round and gentle deity, associated with curves and flowing forms. She governs the winding rivers, the worn hills, the swell of music, and the rising and lowering of the tides. Her temples are built with domed roofs and spiral pathways. Her priests wear flowing robes and sing in melodious voices. Those paying homage to her leave sea-worn stones, eggs, and sanded wooden spheres.

Kiki is a tall and angular deity, associated with sharp edges and jagged lines. She governs lightning, the crack of timbers, the jagged mountains, and the slapping of the sea against rocks. Her temples are built with tall steeples and intersecting lines. Her priests wear bright colors and crisp pleats, with chants punctuated by clapping. Those paying homage to her leave elaborately folded pieces of paper, foods that have been precisely cut, or caltrops.

Their relationship to each other is complicated and cyclical. They come together in spite of their differences, then those differences tear them apart, until eventually their shared history and love brings them back. And it's the phases of this cycle that define the world.

The world is now in the Phase of Growing Harmony (Enemies to Lovers). Lightning strikes illuminate the soft edges of billowing clouds rather than tearing through them. Winding paths are carved through jagged mountains. The priests join together, harmonizing with new musical forms, and in some places new temples are erected that go so far as to practice joint worship. The soft becomes hard and the hard becomes soft, offerings of a sort from one god to another, a mending of differences.

[the-alternate-realities]

[rcmclachlan]

from the micro story word list: 19 (sea change) or 46 (shimmer)!

"It never stops being weird seeing fake snow on people's roofs," Buck says, eyeing the house across the street. It's the epitome of everything he hates about Christmas now: the snow blankets are stapled in weird places, the LED lights are too bright and their shimmer makes the house look like a Swedish nightclub, and the 14-foot inflatable Grinch is just begging for someone with an LAFD-issued multitool to go over and accidentally slash it ten times.

Next to him, Tommy takes a thoughtful sip of his beer—salt and lemon gose, because he's a Batman villain—and murmurs, "You were lucky to have the real thing growing up. I always wanted a real white Christmas."

Tommy's voice is still clogged with tears. It sounds like there are river rocks in his throat.

"You wouldn't say that if you had to shovel four feet of lake effect snow out of your driveway while everyone else was opening presents," Buck grumbles, draining the rest of his ginger ale in one go, then drops his cheek to Tommy's shoulder with a sigh.

Wordlessly, Tommy wraps an arm around him and snugs him in close.

It's been almost an hour since Buck showed up on Tommy's doorstep with eight pounds of homemade fruitcake and goaded Tommy into a shouting match on his front lawn, which his neighbors must have loved, especially at 10:45 on Christmas Eve. He knows Tommy was absolutely mortified, but not enough to take the fight inside, which means that when Buck looks back on tonight, the only thing he'll remember—other than Tommy screaming "Of course I'm in love with you, Evan! That's not the issue here!"—is the way that fucking inflatable Grinch lit Tommy's tear-stained face up in the most hideous neon green color ever invented.

Buck closes his eyes and stretches out his legs. They clear all three of the little stairs leading up to Tommy's platform porch and his heels land on one of the flagstone steppers built into the pathway. Tommy had laid the walk-up the first year he moved in and was still so proud of it; he smirked at the stones sometimes, like he'd bested them, like they'd lost some fight that Buck would've given anything to have watched.

He wishes he'd remembered the flagstones before he asked Tommy to move in; it might've saved him a lot of grief and oven cleaner.

"Worth it, though," Tommy says. "Someday I'll see snow on Christmas."

Buck already knows he's going to regret opening his mouth, but he can't stop it. "M-Maybe next year? Before climate change turns Hershey into the new Tampa?"

For a horrible, endless moment, Tommy says nothing. He just drinks his beer and strokes a thumb over Buck's arm. Meanwhile, Buck's ready to rip his own skin off and run screaming into the night. They already laid it all out on the line—Tommy pacing a new pathway in the lawn, Buck standing on the biggest flagstone stepper like he was playing a one-man game of The Floor Is Lava, both of them shouting over each other to be heard—and if Tommy's going to stage a retreat now, if he's going to go back on his promise to fight through the fear and try, Buck's going to start ripping up the flagstones.

Then Tommy presses a long, hard kiss to Buck's hair. "We're not staying with your parents."

Shakily with relief, Buck lifts his head and slots their lips together, slipping his tongue in because he can. The inside of Tommy's mouth tastes like vomit. He's going to dash the rest of that bullshit beer on the flagstones as soon as he sees an opening.

"I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy." He pulls back just enough so he can watch exasperation try to chase the smitten expression off Tommy's face when he follows that up with, "never mind someone I'm planning to baby trap within the next five years."

They end up rutting against each other right there on Tommy's porch in full view of neighborhood, and he hopes the Grinch tells all the Whos down in Whoville how Buck's heart and dick grew three sizes that day.

[puck-luck]

the adventurous one | dawson mercer

warnings: outdoor/public sex, unprotected sex, references to oral (f!receiving) at a later date, dirty talk, praise pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader request: "Okay hear me out but Dawson seems like such a nature lover and hiking guy. So could I request something where he and reader go on a hike by a river or something because Dawson wanted to show her but she doesn’t want to hike anymore (lazy girls unite) so she stops him for a “water break” and slowly she manages to get him to have sex right there. Completely public but also private? Please?" ABSOLUTELY! wc: 2000

“Daws, slow down,” you call, watching the distance between your boyfriend and yourself increase with each step. 

Dawson had invited you to go on a hike with him this afternoon in place of his normal workout. You had said yes because you love your boyfriend, but you were both all too well aware that he was a little more physically fit than you, being, oh, an athlete and all.

You had held out as long as you could before asking for a break, but you’re nearing a creek and it’s a pretty sight, so maybe Dawson will let it slide.

You sit down on a stone and dig through your backpack for your water bottle, gulping down the still icy-water. Dawson has turned around and is making his way back to you now, plopping down on another rock near you and stretching his legs out. 

“Tired already, baby?” Dawson asks, rubbing his shins and grinning at you.

You glare at him, bothered by his teasing. You take another gulp of your water, then shove the bottle back into your bag. “Not tired, just hot.”

“You always are,” Dawson says with a nod. He stands, then grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet. “Ready to move along?”

You groan, pursing your lips and looking up at him with a furrowed brow. Dawson mistakes your displeasure for a similar pose that you do when you’re asking for a kiss, so he leans down to peck your lips. He takes your hand and goes to pull you along, but you stay in place.

“What if I proposed an alternate workout?” You ask. “Instead of finishing this hike.”

Dawson chuckles a little, coming to stand in front of you. He ducks his head a bit and raises his eyebrow comically, like he’s listening intently to the idea that hasn’t even fully formed in your head yet.

You walk your fingers over his chest, teasing him. 

“It involves cardio,” you say, trailing off. You let your hand slide up his neck and into his hair sensually, then you smile at him. “Your favorite kind of cardio.”

Dawson laughs, twisting the end of your ponytail with his index finger. “How about we finish this hike and then, when we get home, I’ll treat you to some of that cardio?”

“Or,” you drawl, “You could fuck me right here and then we could go home?”

Dawson looks around. “Right here?” He asks. “In– on the trail?”

You shrug, batting your eyelashes coyly at the boy. “Why not?” You ask. “Aren’t you supposed to be the adventurer here? Why am I the one suggesting this?”

He’s got a silly look on his face, seeming suspended in time as he processes what you’re saying, and you want to poke his cheek to wipe the expression off his face. Instead, you push his hair back and scrunch your nose while he thinks, peppering a series of kisses over his cheeks and the corner of his lip.

“You’re dangerous, huh?” Dawson finally says. “And you hate hiking that bad?”

“Well, I only really said yes because I wanted to spend time with my cute boyfriend,” you say. “And since I’ve thought of a better idea than hiking, I want to spend time with my cute boyfriend that way.”

Dawson sucks his teeth, then his tongue pokes through the hole in his mouth. You can tell he’s relenting, even a little excited by the idea. He pushes you backwards, walking you off the side of the trail just far enough that you can still see the pathway, but no one can see you in the trees unless they’re looking.

“Right here?” Dawson asks, biting his lower lip and sliding his hands over your waist, underneath your shirt. “Right now?” He untucks his lip and kisses you, then lathers his lips down your neck. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pulling off his shirt and getting your hands on his sweaty chest. 

Dawson tucks the shirt into his backpack before returning to you, then pulls your shorts down your legs and tucks them away. 

You’re half naked against a tree, feeling much more vulnerable than you ever have been, and you feel very glad that Dawson isn’t moving to take your shirt off. Yes, you suggested this, but it was really a ploy to get out of hiking. You’re not normally this adventurous, true to your word that Dawson is supposed to be the adventurous one, but the thought of being in public does send a little thrill up your spine… in addition to the thrill from the litany of kisses that Dawson continues to leave along your exposed neck, shoulders, and chest. 

“Give it to me, Daws,” you whisper, pulling him up to your lips. He uses one hand to push his shorts down just enough that he can draw his cock out and wrap his fist around it. 

He pets his cock through your folds as he strokes himself to full hardness, letting the tip of his dick poke at your clit and stimulate you to the point that you’re dripping for him. The spongy head of his member leaks against you and helps spread your slick. He pitches his hips forward once he’s satisfied that you’re both completely ready.

“Have you been keeping secrets from me?” Dawson teases quietly. “I didn’t realize you love me so much that you would let me take care of you in front of everyone.”

“There’s no one here,” you reply, just as his tip breaches your hole and you let out a sigh. 

“But you would, wouldn’t you?” Dawson says. “If I wanted to fuck you somewhere way more public, you’d let me, yeah?”

He continues to push inside you with little strokes, teasing you as he draws in and out. He’s filling you, but he keeps sliding out with slow pumps. He’s waiting for you to answer, but he’s not stopping his movements. It feels far too good for you to do anything but moan, so Dawson continues to talk. 

“Maybe for another time,” Dawson muses. “For now, how about I make you come and then we can head home and I’ll give you another one?”

“Yeah,” you agree, clutching at Dawson’s muscles.

He hikes your leg over his hip and drills forward, covering you with his own body. His thrusts are short and pointed, hitting your back wall and causing your mouth to drop open in pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of your tight walls around him.

You squeeze him as you near your peak, only intensified by the breeze rustling through the trees that reminds you that you’re in public and anyone could walk by. You wrap your arms around him, forearms sticking to his skin. One of your hands grip the waves of his hair tightly, tugging slightly with each thrust. 

“C’mon, babe,” Dawson murmurs. “Come on my cock and I’ll clean you up when we get home.”

He speeds up his thrusts, reaching his hand up your loose shirt to squeeze one of your tits. He pinches your nipple and tugs a bit, leaving you whimpering beneath him.

“I can feel you getting closer,” Dawson continues in a whisper, his voice filling your ear like a physical caress. “I want to feel you fall apart.” He sucks your neck, nipping at your earlobe. 

You arch up into him, his cock shifting inside you to hit your g-spot. You reach down and rub circles over your clit with your middle finger, your head tipping back and getting caught on the bark of the tree. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, sucking at the edge of your jaw. “Atta girl.”

Your moans grow high pitched and Dawson covers your lips with his own to make sure no one can hear you, even though you haven’t heard anyone else walk along the path since before you thought to entice him.

You come over his cock, clenching down on him as your body is riddled with shocks and waves of bliss. 

Dawson slows as you come, watching your expression change with the feelings that overcome you. 

When you recover, he’s back to sliding in and out of you, stimulating his cock just enough to stay hard but not enough to threaten his own orgasm if you want to stop. 

“What are you doing?” You groan, frowning and tugging his hair. “Go, Dawsy.”

“Go?” He questions. “Y’sure?”

“Want you to come too,” you reassure him, locking your leg around his waist and lifting the other to join it. Now, he’s pressing you against the tree to keep you in place and he’s reaching a deeper spot inside of you. You’re wrapped around him like an octopus and you’re grinning at each other.

“Okay, baby,” he agrees, starting to move again.

“Don’t hold back,” you instruct, and he laughs.

“Okay, no holding back,” Dawson says, then shushes you with a little peck. “You asked for it.”

He lunges into action, thrusting forward with a determination that leaves you reeling, especially after you just experienced such a strong orgasm. 

He’s quick and hard. He pushes you against the tree and it hurts a little bit, but not enough to make you ask him to stop. You want him to come, come inside you, give you something to clean up later when you get home and he puts his head between your legs. 

The thought of that draws you away from the bark that’s rubbing against your bare backside, turning the discomfort into intense pleasure as you resume your soft circles over your clit. 

Dawson is grunting in your ear, kissing you, holding you tightly and praising you as much as he can before going breathless. His hips are stuttering, bucking against you in an uncoordinated way that signals his impending orgasm. 

“Fill me up, Dawson,” you goad, scratching over his back with your nails, marking him up. You’ll look down at those marks when he eats you out at home and moan louder, making the same kind of noises that Dawson is making now as he crests over.

“Baby,” he moans as his seed starts to spill inside of you, filling you and warming you. He pumps his hips, letting his orgasm run its course. Little noises and pants leave his mouth, lips brushing against your own. “Yeah,” he murmurs, repeating the word as he comes back to himself and the pleasure dissolves. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you agree, rolling your hips a few times, then tapping his shoulder. “Okay. Get out. Time to go home.”

“But I like it so much in here,” Dawson teases, sounding faux-pained just to get on your nerves. He always does this, especially when you guys risk a quickie before you need to be somewhere or meet someone. 

“Mmm, well, maybe you can come back later,” you assure him as he slides out of you and tucks himself away. 

He uses his shirt to wipe between your legs before pulling your shorts up your legs, redressing you and kissing your stomach before coming back up to your lips. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you reply.

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back to the trail, walking down the part of the path you’ve already taken back to the car. “You really didn’t like hiking with me?” He asks. “So much that you’d risk getting a tick– which I’m going to check you for later, by the way– just to convince me to go home?”

“I wanted to work out with my cute boyfriend,” you remind him, swinging your hands between you. “This type of work out is much more fun than walking up a big ol’ hill.”

“I’ll convince you one day,” Dawson teases good-naturedly. “But you know, I won’t complain if you want to do this again.” He flashes you a wink and a big smile, a little skip to his walk that you match all the way to the car.

note: i'm still at work! this is andy from the past! i hope you guys enjoyed this fic and i can't wait to come back and be more active in a couple of weeks <3