#it’s too hot

[lonestar-badash]

It’s too hot for everything, but especially titties.

And men, especially men.

Oh, and lies.

[alberta-sunrise]

Its officially too warm for a Duvet 😪

[lunaloothemew]

Wasn’t sure what to draw until TC said rain, sooo, here is rain :D

[kitnightowl]

Some late birthday art presents for @fossilizedalien and @zephkit of their ocs

[consider-your-potatoes-mashed]

Heat is fucking ableist i just want to go outside and not feel like I’m dying or going to pass out. Like sure being cold sucks and at a certain point it hurts like hell but for me at least heat and being hot is so much worse.

(I feel like I should note that technically the first bit of this (calling heat ableist) is a joke but I stand by it at the same time)

Is the high if the day 71 F? Yes. Do I still feel like that’s too hot? Also yes I will be sweating my fucking ass off and trying to walk as little as possible which is still more than I’d like cause I’m doing college classes this summer and the campus is massive.

[iridescentsky29]

I’m starting to realise that alternative clothing and summer weather is not a good combo

I’m so hotttttt

[justmissart]

It’s cooling down but this is still very much a mood.

[fulcrumwrites]

Blanket Burrito

Summary: Caleb has been kidnapped by a woman who hopes to replace her long dead son with him. Even the simplest actions of tucking him into bed at night reminds him just how much of a captive he is.

CW: kidnapping, parental yandere, claustrophobia, unconventional restraints, drugging, non-con (non-sexual)

“Time for bed, sweetie.”

If Caleb could shudder at her honey-sweet voice, he would. Instead, his disgust remained trapped in his drug-induced paralysis. The bed beneath him dipped as his insane kidnapper sat on the edge. Her cool fingers stroked the hair off his forehead. Unable to pull away, Caleb could only close his eyes and pretend she wasn’t there.

Helen mistook it for contentment as she cooed fondly. Caleb grimaced and opened his eyes again, glaring. The middle-aged woman ignored it.

“I’ll tuck you in, honey. I make a mean blanket burrito.” She winked and booped the tip of his nose.

Caleb made a face. He was twenty years old, damn it. Five days in captivity and he was sick of her babying. It wasn’t his fault he shared the same name as her son, nor that they would be the same age if he hadn’t died in a car crash fourteen years ago. At least she didn’t insist on changing his clothes for him. Caleb convinced her he could do that himself. The blue pajamas she gave him reminded him of the pair he wore when he was six.

The mattress shifted again as she rose. Caleb watched her move to the armchair and pick up a pile of neatly folded, navy blue sheets. She hummed what he assumed was a lullaby as she shook out a single sheet.

With little difficulty, Helen maneuvered the sheet underneath him. She folded it over his body and pulled it tight and snug before tucking in the edges. The pressure of fabric all over sent signals to his muscles to squirm and get loose. His limbs refused to respond. Didn’t even twitch.

To Caleb’s dismay, Helen pulled out another sheet and draped it over him before folding those edges underneath him. She even tucked the corners into the first sheet.

“Wow,” Caleb murmured sarcastically, sliding his eyes down his nose to his burrito-wrapped body. “That’s an excellent blanket burrito, Helen. Five stars, truly.”

Helen’s eyes tightened as her smiling lips thinned. “It’s “Mommy”, dear. That’s what my poor baby Caleb called me.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. Uh, yeah. No way he’s calling her “Mommy”.

“And I’m not done yet.”

A groan escaped his lips as another sheet was wrapped around his paralyzed form. Then another.

With the fifth sheet, Helen collected the corners across from each other and knotted them together tightly against his chest. She did the same with the bottom corners at his ankles.

Finally, she straightened and admired her handiwork. “There. My Caleb always liked being wrapped in a blanket burrito.”

Yeah, so did I. When I was five. By my real mother.

Helen draped the comforter over his still form and tucked the edges under the mattress, pinning him to the too-small bed even further.

Her cool hand rested on his flushed cheek. When did it get so hot? Her touch sent a minuscule shudder down his spine. Hey, the sedative is finally wearing off.

“Goodnight, my dear boy. Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The nightlight on his nightstand was switched on before the door closed behind her. Caleb didn’t miss the sound of the bolt locking him in.

He winced against the harshness of the ocean-themed nightlight piercing through the darkness. He had a similar one as a kid, back when he was afraid of the dark like any other child. He’s embraced the darkness since he was ten after he learned there was nothing to fear and that total darkness helped him sleep. He thought he should be afraid of it now, only instead he missed it.

Closing his eyes to block out the light, Caleb tried flexing his fingers in order to regain control of his body.

Slow as a snail, his muscles began to respond, starting with twitches in his fingers and toes. It took what felt like hours for him to be able to move. By then he was exhausted by the time of night and the sedation.

Caleb tested his bonds. He didn’t know why Helen decided not to cuff his limbs to the bed frame as she had done the previous nights, but he wasn’t complaining. A blanket burrito was much easier to escape.

He felt as weak as a limp noodle as he twisted and pushed against the sheets. Sweat soaked his thick pajamas and sheets. It was the middle of summer. Was Helen trying to kill him with all these layers?

Caleb struggled a bit harder and the bed creaked loudly. He froze and nervously checked the glow beneath his door. As far as he knew, the light was always on. Like some immortal guardian, Helen never sleeps.

Caleb resumed his battle with the blanket burrito as quietly as he could. The sheets barely even loosened. A growl of frustration crawled up his throat.

At last, he lay still on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Energy spent, hair sticking to his forehead, far too hot, Caleb lay there quietly. Defeated. Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids and he found himself succumbing to its demand.

Before he drifted off, steps outside his door made him tense. He feigned sleep as the door unlocked and swung open.

He recognized Helen’s heels clicking against the wooden floors of the hidden cabin. Caleb steeled himself to avoid flinching as hands adjusted the heavy comforter and tucked it back in, undoing all his hard work.

Lips brushed his temple and she was gone. The thud of the metal bolt sealed his fate. Tears slipped down his nose as Caleb finally surrendered to sleep.

[wyrm-with-a-why]

Pain yuck

[ghostieking]

absolutely hate this heat wave cause I get nauseous and dizzy every single time… can barely breathe

[alberta-sunrise]

Makeup free day

[casp1an-sea]

I hate taking the bus home it should be illegal for it to not have and air conditioning I’m boiling in here

[rafaelllaaaa]

when in traffic…take a pic 🙃

[strmpt]

im fucking SWEATING i cannot handle this

[daniellesdarrieux]

My main problem these days is I want to dress like a slut but I also want to dress like a guy but I also want to wear 1920s clothes and everyday is a battle.

[makeitp1nk]

Squeeeeeeee I wrote a thing!!!! For @drarrymicrofic prompt BLOOD. Inspired by this darn heat and my propensity for heat stroke

With Him, Where He Blooms

Drarry | Rated G | No warnings | 50 words

Brilliant and strong in the shadows, Harry’s beloved English flower wilts in the sun. Draco’s hot blood burns from within in the heat. Red-faced and sweating, he retreats from the beach and the park, from life.

Harry doesn’t care. He’ll spend his summers in the cool darkness, where Draco blooms.