#beside the seaside

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Beside the Seaside: Ch 17

Jamie rolled to his side, his breath heavy as his eyes slid shut. His hand roamed across Claire’s belly and settled on the velvety skin at her hip, tracing patterns there with his fingertips. Claire hummed softly. Even coming down from the high of their joining, he still couldn’t get enough of her. As if she’d had the same thought, his wife rolled toward him and slid one arm around his waist. With new territory of her body exposed, his hand traveled the path of her spine, up to her neck and then down to her backside. She was a gift, every time; a living, breathing, burning work of art that he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch.

She placed several gentle, unhurried kisses along his bare chest and shoulder, and a soft groan escaped him.

“Tha gaol agam ort, mo ghràidh.” The declaration slipped out, unguarded and honest — and safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t grasp the meaning.

[read the rest on ao3]

[barkingbonzo]

BESIDE THE SEASIDE

[modmad]

TPoH: Update

NO UPDATE NEXT WEEK I'm taking a week off to do other irl things that have piled up- comic will resume on the 23rd!

Read TPoH from the start here.

Update here on the TPoH website!

Thank you all  for the kind and loving support! If you want to buy books of this comic YOU CAN! Volumes one and two AND THREE are now in stock and you can get even more books in the form of TPatJ and Unbecoming! Find them and more here in the TPoH Topatoco shop right here, or tell your friends about it! There are also always lots of my doodles to buy on nice stuff in my Society6 merch box too!

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[dykemcqueen]

artemis was the closest thing butler had to a friend and butler was the closest thing artemis had to a father......

[handbasket-to-helen]

[groovybananastarfish]

[ashleighneville]

this southampton kit is mint actually i love the little waves

[bound-in-chaos]

i feel like a fun little adventure is needed tomorrow. maybe a train ride somewhere, maybe a little retail therapy… who knows?

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

I know it’s been a while but I’m trying to finish up the next chapter of Seaside for y’all. I just have one scene left to write that’s giving me trouble so please send all the good writing vibes my way. Trying to add some more tenderness to the world right now and this is what I have 💜 8k+ words of escapism hopefully coming to you soon!

[barkingbonzo]

BESIDE THE SEASIDE

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[inkskinned]

in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

[lisaplant4]

Day at the seaside with the NHS girlies

[felonious]

[extinctionstories]

It was never a common species, the blue-grey warbler that locals called the jack pine bird. A belated discovery among American birds, it was undescribed by science until the mid 19th century—and then, known only on the basis of a single specimen. The bird's wintering grounds in the Caribbean would eventually fulfill the demands of collectors and museums, but the intricacies of its lifecycle remained a mystery for decades, the first nest only found in 1903. As the already-rare bird became rarer, people could only guess at why. There were just so few birds to look for, their breeding habitat inscrutable amidst the dense, impassable woodland of their Midwestern home. The one clue was the most apparent thing about the bird: its affinity with the jack pine (Pinus banksiana).

Over time, more nests were found—not in the eponymous trees, as might be expected for a songbird, but on the ground at their feet. Data points converged, leading to the realization that not only did the bird nest almost exclusively in proximity to the scrubby pines, but only utilized trees that fell within a specific range: new growth, between five and fifteen feet tall, with branches that swept shelteringly close to the ground. Subsequently, it would be noticed that the greatest volume of specimen collection for the bird had corresponded with years in which historically significant wildfires had impacted the Midwest—fires that, for decades afterwards, had been staunchly suppressed. The pieces fell into place, like jack pine seeds, whose cones open only under the heat of a blaze.

With the bird's total population having dwindled to the low hundreds, a program of prescribed burns, clearcutting, and replanting was instituted, with many acres of land purchased and devoted to the preservation and maintenance of suitable breeding habitat. Concurrently, efforts were made to protect the vulnerable bird against brood parasitism by the brown-headed cowbird.

When the first federal list of protected species was put forward in 1966, the name of the small grey warbler was inscribed beside birds such as the Kauai ʻōʻō and the Dusky Seaside Sparrow.

The ʻōʻō, last of the genus Moho, would be removed from the list in 2023 due to extinction, after thirty-six years without a sighting.

The endling Dusky Seaside Sparrow, a male named Orange Band, would die of old age in captivity in 1987, with his species being delisted three years later.

in 2019, fifty-two years after the creation of the Endangered Species Protection Act, the name of Kirtland's warbler, too, was removed from the list: it had been determined that, with a population now numbering nearly 5000, the jack pine bird could be considered safely stable.

Conservationists continue to work to preserve the breeding habitat of Kirtland's Warbler in the midwestern US, as well as its winter roosts in the Bahamas and neighboring islands (though selective logging has replaced actual burning in recent years, due to the dangers posed by unpredictable fires). It's the kind of effort that it takes to undo the damage we've caused to the planet and its creatures—the kind of hope that we need, to not give up on them, or on ourselves.

-

The title of this piece is Prescribed Burn (Kirtland's Warbler). It is traditional gouache on 18x24" watercolor paper, and is part of my series Conservation Pieces, which focuses on efforts made to save critically endangered birds from extinction.

[lokis-army-77]

In Thanks

Masc!Mizu x fem reader

Word Count: 1.8k

You have been traveling with Mizu for a little bit and you can't help the feelings that have developed. Maybe it's time for a thank you.

Warning: 18 +. oral sex, fingering, slight choking, scissoring. I think that's it...

A/N: Be forewarned, Mizu is referred to as "he" the whole fic except for one instance.

Masterlist

You had become his traveling companion in a series of fortunate and unfortunate events. 

Unfortunately, your father had sold you to the flesh traders for money he could use to save the farm from disrepair. 

While on the road to another town, the two traders had begun to fight, Mizu was haplessly brought into the scrap when he was seen by the two agitated men. They turned their sights on the lone man just trying to pass by. 

Fortunately, he had killed your owners. At first, he was intent on escorting you to the nearest town and leaving you there in pursuit of his revenge, only that plan changed when you had proved to be useful when it came to medicine. 

A few weeks later left you here, on the outskirts of a small remote seaside town.

Mizu's eyes watch you from the other side of the campfire. They flick so subtly, catching your every move, or lack thereof as you continue to stare. 

It hadn't taken you long to learn the secret he was hiding or rather she was hiding. There were subtle tells, ones that no one would be able to notice or think back on or they were just passersby. But you had been at his side for nearly two months and it was so obvious to you.

"Would you quit staring- it's rude." Mizu quips before going back to cleaning his blade. 

You don't listen. Keeping your eyes firmly glued on his movements, the flexing of muscles under his skin, and the touch of his slender fingers rubbing at the blood on his sword. All of it made your knees weak.

While you had been with Mizu on the road, you had begun to develop feelings for the stoic warrior. Feelings of love and lust. Only now did you feel brave enough to do something about it, and act on these feelings no matter the consequences. 

Your thighs clenched as you continued to watch him. Now was as good a time as any. 

Mizu only tilts his head in your direction when the sound of you standing reaches his ears. Twigs snap under your feet as you make your way closer to him. he turns fully to you now, analyzing whatever it is you could be doing, and why you were nearing him. 

“What do you want?”

You didn’t want to come right out and say it, so you spoke coyly. “I never thanked you properly for saving me. I thought I could do that now.”

“You’ve thanked me enough.” 

“But I haven’t done all that I could. Please, Mizu, allow me to thank you fully.” You’re right next to him now, slowly lowering yourself to your knees. 

Sultry eyes lock on suspicious ones.

With gentle hands, you reach out for his glasses. he leans away only slightly, not far enough to be out of your reach. 

You place them safely on the stool-sized rock beside you. 

“Let me see your sword.”

She breathes your name heavily. 

Your hand caresses over his shoulder, teasing and soft. 

"I'm not what you think." Mizu murmurs just loud enough for you to hear.

You pause before you answer. "You think I don't know? That I do not see past the defense and deeper within? I know." 

His words catch in his throat. "-how?"

"You aren't the first I've seen that have hidden their sex from the world, and you won't be the last." Your fingers loosen the string tying up his hair. The silky strands begin to fall, making his all the more stunning. 

"I've learned to see what many do not and what others would like to keep hidden... call it a gift."

You let your lips fall to the shell of his ear and whisper, “Now, let me see your sword.”

Reaching into his lap, you grasp the hilt of the blade. Carefully you take the katana and sheth it before setting it near the rock. 

She doesn’t stop you when you begin to untie his pants or the obi around his waist. 

Clothes fall away leaving only warm, scarred skin bare to you. Mizu’s breathing deepens as the binds around his chest are removed. 

Slowly you crawl over his body, forcing him to lie back on the cape he used as a blanket. 

Your eyes scanned over his every curve, curves hidden away by the straight lines of men’s clothes. The cool night air had his nipples pebbling and his skin littered with goosebumps. 

With lust-filled eyes, you descend on him. Lips making contact with his own. It wasn’t tender, no it was needy. You wanted him, all of him and he wanted you too. his hands reach your face, pulling you in deeper. 

The kiss leaves you breathless but you continue to kiss him, pulling away from his lips to kiss down the column of his neck and to his chest. You wet your lips hungrily as you take his peeked nipple into your mouth, your other hand teasing the other. 

Teeth nip and pull at the sensitive skin. Your tongue laves over him, pulling out a soft moan of your name. It has you smirking into the supple flesh. 

You trail down further, peppering kisses over taut abs before you come to the place you have so desperately craved to be. The smell is sweet but you know the taste will be even sweeter.

“Thank you, Mizu.” You pull apart his strong, slender legs, inserting yourself between them. 

“Thank you.” You kiss the inside of a thigh then move to the other. “Thank you.”

You lay there with his legs thrown over your shoulders, admiring the pussy before you. Your mouth is watering as you trail a single finger over the slit. 

Mizu sucks in, body tensing, preparing. 

You move your mouth in closer, tongue lapping at the wetness between his folds. The taste had you moaning, the sweet yet heady taste filled your mouth and you knew you'd never get enough of it now. 

Pressing on, you began sucking Mizu's clit. Hands flew into your hair, tugging in pleasure. You could feel his nails scratching your scalp.

“Taste so good.” You hum against him. 

Your left-hand strokes over his firm abdomen while two fingers of your left slowly insert themselves inside Mizu's entrance. 

He's so warm and wet, clenching down around you, pulling you in with need. With lidded eyes, you look up, past the roaming landscape of his body, at his face. His brow is furrowed, pinched in pleasure as your fingers work into his walls. His mouth is open, jaw slacked as sweet gasp after sweet gasp erupts. It’s a wondrous sight to behold and all you’ve ever wanted to be privy to. 

Those gasps turn into short whimpers once your rhythm steadies out and your mouth sucks slightly harder on his clit. His hips buck up, pushing against your mouth as need courses through him. You feel like you’re in a trance, your eyes still locked onto his face as he continues to breathe heavily, lost in a pleasure escalating with each passing second. You keep going, determined to make him feel as incredible as possible.

The sloppy noises of you eating Mizu out have your stomach turning, fluttering with want. You know for certain that your own cunt is dripping, making a mess. You need more than just the pressure of your legs squeezing together, no, you need to feel Mizu against you. 

In the heat of the passion, you pull away. Mizu whines at the loss of your fingers and mouth. “What are-” He stops his question short. You’re throwing off the layers of your clothes, tossing them haphazardly around the forest floor.

With determination you crawl over one of his legs, slotting yourself against him. A breathy sigh leaves your lips when you lower yourself. 

With slow subtle rotations of your hips, you begin to feel the want bubbling in your belly pouring forth. The feel of his cunt against your own is like heaven. Your clit rubbing against his sends a jolt through you. 

“Fuck, I’ve never- ah- I’ve never done this.” He grunts. One hand holds you by the hip, guiding you as you grind down. Your own hands hold fast on his thigh in front of you. 

“Neither have I,” You answer between choppy moans. 

As you piston your hips, you can feel the wetness between the two of you growing. You both groan in pleasure, your hands moving to explore each other's bodies. His fingers trace circles around your breast and you shiver in delight. You heave when Mizu’s hand reaches for your throat and pulls you down into a kiss.

His tongue slips past your lips, pushing back against your own. You may be on top and in control at the moment, but there simmering below Mizu’s surface was a want to flip you both over and take the pleasure that had been so far from his mission of revenge, he had forgotten what it felt like to feel another persons touch in this manner. 

Your back arches at the growing ecstasy within your body and Mizu’s hand tightens. The air is stolen from your lungs for only a moment before he lets go, moaning into your kiss. 

 “Thank you.” You repeat once more. 

You can feel the ache in your abdomen as you move, you’re coming closer and closer to release, and by the way that Mizu is rutting his hips against you, strong and needy, you know he’s close too. 

“Look at me.” You plead, “Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

A deep red blush rises across Mizu’s cheeks at your words, not used to the compliment. The blush makes the topaz color stand out. You could stare into those eyes forever, get lost, and never leave. 

Your bodies move in unison, your ragged breaths become one as you both tip toward the edge. With one more thrust, with one more rub of your clits, your bodies tense. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of pleasure while Mizu lets out a wavering cry.

The movement of your hips slows to a stop and you fall in a heap over Mizu’s body. Tiredly you kiss the sweat-dampened skin of his chest, and he shivers. “Thank you.” You mummer one last time. 

Mizu’s hands hold you close, one in your hair, the other flat across your back. “You don’t have to keep thanking me.” 

“I know,”  you look up into his eyes, “but I want to.”

He keeps eye contact as he wipes the hair from your face. “I appreciate this… I haven’t felt this way in a long while.” 

It’s an intimate moment, one of understanding without having to speak. So, you rest your head and close your eyes, too warn out to redress and too tired to move. Mizu also doesn't move to push you away, you take that as a sign that whatever this is, it has a very good chance of happening again.