#tiny island in the pacific

[kittykatninja321]

I understand where the “Jason should get his own city” people are coming from but I could not disagree more. Gotham is his wire mother. And you know how Jason gets about his moms

[orofeaiel]

Crab Memorial Shrine

[freedominthedarkmp3]

Lately I've been really getting into being scared shitless @ Google maps

[taegularities]

i googled condoms 1800s and cant believe they had it before like im so amazed?? i read that its also reusable 🤯🤯 im speechless wtf and its like 4am in my city and im lying in bed reading about this 🤣

LMFAO GO TO SLEEP !!!

but yep, i read about its reusability too and it's truly.. fascinating :')

[poseidons-lovechild]

new hyperfixation: jetpunk countries of the world quiz

[reasonsforhope]

Masterpost: Reasons I firmly believe we will beat climate change

Posts are in reverse chronological order (by post date, not article date), mostly taken from my "climate change" tag, which I went through all the way back to the literal beginning of my blog. Will update periodically.

Especially big deal articles/posts are in bold.

Big picture:

Mature trees offer hope in world of rising emissions (x)

Spying from space: How satellites can help identify and rein in a potent climate pollutant (x)

Good news: Tiny urban green spaces can cool cities and save lives (x)

Conservation and economic development go hand in hand, more often than expected (x)

The exponential growth of solar power will change the world (x)

Sun Machines: Solar, an energy that gets cheaper and cheaper, is going to be huge (x)

Wealthy nations finally deliver promised climate aid, as calls for more equitable funding for poor countries grow (x)

For Earth Day 2024, experts are spreading optimism – not doom. Here's why. (x)

Opinion: I’m a Climate Scientist. I’m Not Screaming Into the Void Anymore. (x)

The World’s Forests Are Doing Much Better Than We Think (x)

‘Staggering’ green growth gives hope for 1.5C, says global energy chief (x)

Beyond Catastrophe: A New Climate Reality Is Coming Into View (x)

Young Forests Capture Carbon Quicker than Previously Thought (x)

Yes, climate change can be beaten by 2050. Here's how. (x)

Soil improvements could keep planet within 1.5C heating target, research shows (x)

The global treaty to save the ozone layer has also slowed Arctic ice melt (x)

The doomers are wrong about humanity’s future — and its past (x)

Scientists Find Methane is Actually Offsetting 30% of its Own Heating Effect on Planet (x)

Are debt-for-climate swaps finally taking off? (x)

High seas treaty: historic deal to protect international waters finally reached at UN (x)

How Could Positive ‘Tipping Points’ Accelerate Climate Action? (x)

Specific examples:

Environmental Campaigners Celebrate As Labour Ends Tory Ban On New Onshore Wind Projects (x)

Private firms are driving a revolution in solar power in Africa (x)

How the small Pacific island nation of Vanuatu drastically cut plastic pollution (x)

Rewilding sites have seen 400% increase in jobs since 2008, research finds [Scotland] (x)

The American Climate Corps take flight, with most jobs based in the West (x)

Waste Heat Generated from Electronics to Warm Finnish City in Winter Thanks to Groundbreaking Thermal Energy Project (x)

Climate protection is now a human right — and lawsuits will follow [European Union] (x)

A new EU ecocide law ‘marks the end of impunity for environmental criminals’ (x)

Solar hits a renewable energy milestone not seen since WWII [United States] (x)

These are the climate grannies. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect their grandchildren. [United States and Native American Nations] (x)

Century of Tree Planting Stalls the Warming Effects in the Eastern United States, Says Study (x)

Chart: Wind and solar are closing in on fossil fuels in the EU (x)

UK use of gas and coal for electricity at lowest since 1957, figures show (x)

Countries That Generate 100% Renewable Energy Electricity (x)

Indigenous advocacy leads to largest dam removal project in US history [United States and Native American Nations] (x)

India’s clean energy transition is rapidly underway, benefiting the entire world (x)

China is set to shatter its wind and solar target five years early, new report finds (x)

‘Game changing’: spate of US lawsuits calls big oil to account for climate crisis (x)

Largest-ever data set collection shows how coral reefs can survive climate change (x)

The Biggest Climate Bill of Your Life - But What Does It DO? [United States] (x)

Good Climate News: Headline Roundup April 1st through April 15th, 2023 (x)

How agroforestry can restore degraded lands and provide income in the Amazon (x) [Brazil]

Loss of Climate-Crucial Mangrove Forests Has Slowed to Near-Negligable Amount Worldwide, Report Hails (x)

Agroecology schools help communities restore degraded land in Guatemala (x)

Climate adaptation:

Solar-powered generators pull clean drinking water 'from thin air,' aiding communities in need: 'It transforms lives' (x)

‘Sponge’ Cities Combat Urban Flooding by Letting Nature Do the Work [China] (x)

Indian Engineers Tackle Water Shortages with Star Wars Tech in Kerala (x)

A green roof or rooftop solar? You can combine them in a biosolar roof — boosting both biodiversity and power output (x)

Global death tolls from natural disasters have actually plummeted over the last century (x)

Los Angeles Just Proved How Spongy a City Can Be (x)

This city turns sewage into drinking water in 24 hours. The concept is catching on [Namibia] (x)

Plants teach their offspring how to adapt to climate change, scientists find (x)

Resurrecting Climate-Resilient Rice in India (x)

Other Masterposts:

Going carbon negative and how we're going to fix global heating (x)

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.

With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.

About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.

Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.

It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.

--------------------------

Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."

The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office. 

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.

As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."

His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"

When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.

Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."

The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized. 

"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"

Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."

Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands. 

"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."

Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."

Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.

"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."

The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"

"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks. 

With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment. 

"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear. 

"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."

He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"

He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."

"I love you, Bradley!"

"I love you so much."

As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."

Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.

He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.

"Yes, sir?"

The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."

Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"

He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."

This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."

"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.

Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.

When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."

------------------------------

If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration. 

You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.

"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."

She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."

"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by. 

As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"

You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."

"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"

You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."

"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.

"I could be! You don't even know!"

Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.

"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."

"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.

"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."

You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."

Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.

"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.

"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."

"I think he'd like that."

You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?

"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.

"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."

"Okay."

You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.

I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today. 

But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.

---------------------------

On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price. 

You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?

While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.

"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"

You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.

Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.

"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.

I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.

Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.

Open me when you've had a bad day

Open me when you really want some coffee

Open me when you need a laugh

Open me when you're in bed

Open me when you need a girls' night

Open me with your class

You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.

------------------------------

He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby

PART 21

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[vestaignis]

Подводные бабочки-рыба, которой даны крылья, но не для полета- Восточная дактилоптена.

Восточная дактилоптена, или восточная летучка (лат. Dactyloptena orientalis), — вид лучепёрых рыб семейства долгопёровых (Dactylopteridae). Широко распространены в Индо-Тихоокеанской области от юга Африки до Красного моря и Персидского залива, включая Мадагаскар и Маскаренские острова. На север до Японии и островов Бонин; на восток до Тонга, Рапа-Ити, Гавайских островов и островов Питкэрн и на юг до Западной Австралии, Нового Южного Уэльса и Новой Каледонии. Максимальная длина тела 40 см, обычно до 20 см

Тело у этих необычнх рыб массивное, удлинённое, почти квадратное в поперечном сечении. Покрыто костной чешуёй, которая образует продольные гребни. Голова большая и заключена в костный панцирь. Глаза у дактилоптены большие. Рот маленький, полунижний с крошечными зубами на обеих челюстях, сошнике и нёбных костях. В углу предкрышки расположен длинный шип; его окончание не заходит за окончание первой спинной колючки. У восточной летучки два спинных плавника; в первом спинном плавнике 5 колючих лучей; второй спинной плавник с 8 мягкими лучами отделён от первого спинного плавника глубокой выемкой. Хвостовой плавник с небольшой выемкой, удлинённый у взрослых особей. Грудные плавники с горизонтальным основанием, разделены на две части: передней, образованной пятью короткими лучами, и задней с 27—30 длинными лучами, окончания которых доходят до основания хвостового плавника; каждый луч с короткими нитями, выходящими за внешний край луча.

Окраска тела обычно желтовато-коричневая сверху и светло-коричневая снизу. По верхней части головы и тела разбросаны небольшие оранжевые точки; у особей крупнее 10 см обычно на верхней части головы есть большое тёмное пятно. На грудных плавниках беспорядочно разбросаны золотистые точки, более крупные в задней части. У мелких особей (длиной 50—65 мм) одно глазчатое тёмное пятно на нижней трети плавников. По хвостовому плавнику проходят четыре золотистые полосы. Золотистые полосы идут вдоль верхней части колючего спинного плавника.

Восточная дактилоптена это морская придонная рыба. Обитает на континентальном шельфе над песчаными грунтами на глубине от 1 до 100 м. Способна «ходить» по дну, используя для передвижения брюшные плавники и короткие лучи грудных плавников. Длинные лучи грудных плавников в спокойном состоянии прижаты к телу, а в случае опасности распрямляются для отпугивания хищников. Ведут одиночный малоподвижный образ жизни. Питаются ракообразными, моллюсками и мелкими рыбами.

Underwater butterfly fish that have wings, but not for flight - Eastern Dactyloptena.

The Oriental flying gurnard, or Purple Flying Gurnard, (lat. Dactyloptena orientalis), is a species of ray-finned fish of the long-finned fish family (Dactylopteridae). Widely distributed in the Indo-Pacific region from southern Africa to the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf, including Madagascar and the Mascarene Islands. To the north to Japan and the Bonin Islands; to the east to Tonga, Rapa Iti, Hawaii and the Pitcairn Islands and to the south to Western Australia, New South Wales and New Caledonia. The maximum body length is 40 cm, usually up to 20 cm.

The body of these unusual fish is massive, elongated, almost square in cross-section. Covered with bony scales, which form longitudinal ridges. The head is large and enclosed in a bony shell. The eyes of Dactyloptenae are large. The mouth is small, semi-inferior with tiny teeth on both jaws, the vomer and the palatine bones. In the corner of the preoperculum there is a long spine; its end does not extend beyond the end of the first dorsal spine. The eastern bat has two dorsal fins; the first dorsal fin has 5 spiny rays; the second dorsal fin with 8 soft rays is separated from the first dorsal fin by a deep notch. The caudal fin with a small notch, elongated in adults. The pectoral fins with a horizontal base, are divided into two parts: the anterior, formed by five short rays, and the posterior with 27-30 long rays, the ends of which reach the base of the caudal fin; each ray with short filaments extending beyond the outer edge of the ray. The body color is usually yellowish-brown on top and light brown below. Small orange dots are scattered over the top of the head and body; individuals larger than 10 cm usually have a large dark spot on the top of the head. Golden dots are randomly scattered on the pectoral fins, larger at the back. Small individuals (50-65 mm long) have one eye-shaped dark spot on the lower third of the fins. Four golden stripes run along the caudal fin. Golden stripes run along the upper part of the spiny dorsal fin.

The Purple Flying Gurnard, is a marine bottom fish. It lives on the continental shelf over sandy bottoms at depths from 1 to 100 m. It is able to "walk" along the bottom, using its pelvic fins and short rays of the pectoral fins for movement. The long rays of the pectoral fins are pressed to the body when calm, and in case of danger they straighten out to scare off predators.They lead a solitary, sedentary lifestyle. They feed on crustaceans, mollusks and small fish.

Источник:://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/Восточная_дактилоптена, ://www. clasbio.ru/classification.php?id=13255, //fishesofaustralia.net.au/ home/species/4640.

[typhlonectes]

Snails in the genus Julia have a bivalved shell, like a clam!

Even though they have a clam like shell, with 2 sections, they are in fact snails (class Gastropoda). Julia are marine snails, found throughout the Indo-Pacific. There are 6 species which are various shades of green. They are tiny, only reaching a length of up to 6 mm long. These snails feed on algae, and incorporate the chloroplasts from the algae into their bodies. Some of the chloroplasts remain photosynthetic, and the snails are able to feed on the products of this photosynthesis. This process is called kleptoplasty.

Photos: Julia sp. from Australia  - profmollusc | Inaturalist cc; Julia exquisita from Reuinion Island - Alexandre LaPorte | Wikipedia cc

[evan-collins90]

Farallon restaurant - 450 Post Street, San Francisco, CA (opened June 1997 - closed 2020)

"Farallon is named after a fishing island off the Pacific coast.

The underwater fantasy theme drives the $4 million restaurant. The electric atmosphere grabs customers the minute they walk through the glass doors framed by a brushed steel and Lucite canopy, which vaguely looks like a scallop shell. Giant jellyfish chandeliers hang from the high ceiling. The walls are textured with shellfish impressions, and lighted yellow pillars that climb the walls are imprinted with seaweed. And that's just the bar.

The big main dining room is more elegant, but maintains the marine motif. Tiny tiles form mosaics on the ceiling, where two huge light fixtures are formed into seashells. Even the hood over the kitchen carries out the theme: It's covered in copper scales. And suspended over the counter are beautiful blown-glass lights shaped like fish.

A gracefully curving staircase leading to the mezzanine is covered in 50,000 blue-black glass beads that resemble magnified caviar, while the wall sconces replicate stands of coral and barnacles."

Excellent examples of the 'Org-Nouveau' style popular in the 1990's

Designed by Pat Kuleto

Scanned from American Theme Restaurants by I.M. Tao (1999) and the February 1998 issue of Interiors Magazine

[elbiotipo]

There is also a thing to be said about how oceans are not empty things, they're not impassable geographical barriers. Oceans are full of life, and not only wildlife, people work and live there (if you're a sailor, so much of your time is spent in the ocean that it becomes your home). Trade travels through the ocean. Natural resources are managed and mismanaged in the oceans. They have historical and cultural value. Like any other natural environment, the seas have been shaped and managed by human activity

When we talk about the Malvinas, we talk about islands, but we are also talking about a British (military, colonial) presence in the seas of Argentina and wider South America. They use it to project their power, their claims over Antarctica, their extraction and use of resources, just mere kilometres from the Argentine coast. It might as well be a British base in the middle of La Pampa or Río Negro (and there are actually some of them, compounds owned by British billionaries who don't let anyone in). Those islands are the most physical projection of British power over a continent they have long tried to subdue to their interests.

It's the same tactic the British use in their colonial possessions in the Indian Ocean (look up the history of the Chagos islanders), or the French and US in the Pacific (ever wondered where the word Bikini came from? Look it up.) People think islands are... Isolated. That they're just a tiny piece of land that cannot be connected to other things. Owning an island means owning the sea around it, and owning the sea never is a neutral thing, the fact that there are no cities on them does not mean it's empty space.

Think about this next time someone tries to tell you "it's just a couple islands with sheep, who cares"

[herpsandbirds]

Since it's both World Animals Day and Teachers Day, can you give us animals that is the best and also the best teacher in the world?

1. Best Teacher in the World: Doug

"Teaching" is actually rare in the animal kingdom, but it does happen...

Animal Teachers | Psychology Today

Why animal teachers are so rare—and remarkable (nationalgeographic.com)

2. Animals That Is the Best:

Sea Pig (Scotoplanes globosa), family Elpididae, specimens found in the deep sea off of the Pacific Coast of North America

The Sea Pig is a benthic deep-sea sea cucumber (class Holothuroidea) that walks using long tube-like limbs.

Like most sea cucumbers, they feed on detritus.

They have often been see congregating in groups of up to 30 individuals.

The 3 species of Scotoplanes are difficult to tell apart by sight.

photograph via: MBARI

Vampire Squid (Vampyroteuthis infernalis), family Vampyroteuthidae, photographed in the deep sea off the Pacific Coast of North America

Vampire Squids are not actually true squids, but are in their own distinct groups of Cephalopods (most closely related to the Octopuses).

They only grow to a total length of up to 30 cm (~ 1 ft).

They have many light producing photophores on various locations around their body.

They live at depths of 600 to 900 m (2,000 to 3,000 ft) in oceans around the world.

photograph via: MBARI

Turtle Frog (Myobatrachus gouldii), family Myobtrachidae, Hill River, found in southwestern Australia

photograph by Akash Samuel

Tuatara (Sphenodon punctatus), family Sphenodontidae, New Zealand

There were once 2 recognized species of Tuatara, but now they are considered to be just one species.

This is not a lizard.

The only member of the reptile group Rhynchocephalia still around. All other species went extinct millions of years ago.

Tuataras were eradicated by humans and introduced species from the main islands of New Zealand, and now only occur on small islands near the North Island and far north of the South Island.

This is one of my very favorite animals.

photograph by Sid Mosdell

Mexican Mushroomtongue Salamander (Bolitoglossa mexicana), family Plethodontidae, Sierra Caral, Guatemala

photographs by Laura Bok

Greater Siren (Siren lacertina), family Sirenidae, found in freshwater habitats in the coastal plains of the SE United States

This large eel-like aquatic salamander retains its gills. They only have 2 tiny front limbs.

They grow to a length of up to 97 cm (38 in).

photographs by Qualiesin 

Southern Ground Hornbill (Bucorvus leadbeater), family Bucorvidae, Kruger National Park, South Africa

photograph by Bernard DUPONT  

Florida Burrowing Owl (Athene cunicularia floridana), family Strigidae, Cape Coral, Florida, USA

photograph by Cee Z Fotography

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #8

xxx forced to stay awake

"Do not let him sleep!" Louisa's voice, sounding strange and distant. It reminds River of the vinyl records he used to listen to with the OB as a kid, the really old ones that made his granddad get that wistful look on his face that disappeared again as soon as he caught River looking at him. Things were so much simpler back then. If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend he's back there...

"Cartwright!" Lamb snaps, shaking him a little. "Do you want to be fired from the Service for good?"

In this moment, that actually doesn't sound like too much of a bad thing if River is being honest. He doesn't say so.

"That wasn't rhetorical." Lamb's voice is loud, sharp. "We both know how your last job interview went. No one that's any good'll take you, which means you'll be stuck behind a desk at some basic mid-level office job. Or maybe a private firm'll take you on, like your old pal Webb! Imagine working for those arseholes. Is that what you want?"

"No," River mutters.

"No? Then keep your fucking eyes open!"

River forces himself to comply. There's not much to look at, really: the back of the passenger seat; the blood on his hand; Jackson Lamb's knees; the back of Louisa's head and, when he lifts his gaze a little, a glimpse of her worried face in the rear-view. The inside of his eyelids offered a better view.

The car hits a bump, jolting him and ripping a cry from his throat as pain tears through his side and chest where the bullets had struck. His vision goes dark for a second, and then he's pulled back to awareness by the sound of Lamb's raised voice.

"Jesus Christ," he's saying. "Who taught you how to drive?"

"I'm sorry!" Louisa, voice pinched. "River, come on!"

River groans, and prying his eyelids apart is harder this time. Breathing is hard, too. Everything is hard.

"River, talk to me! You okay?" Louisa cries.

"Yup," River gasps. Another groan. "Hurts."

"I'll bet it does," Lamb says. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before running off on your own like a fucking dickhead, eh? Course, I thought the same thing the last two times you did it. It's like you never learn, no matter how many times I tell you to stop doing stupid shit."

"You can..." River really shouldn't be wasting his breath on this, but he can't help it. "You can lead a horse to water."

Lamb makes a noise that could be a snort of laughter or, more likely, he's hacking up something disgusting.

"I don't know that I could lead you fuck-ups to water if we were on a-a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific."

River tries to draw in another breath to respond, but his chest hitches and he lets out a wet cough. His mouth fills with the taste of iron and he almost gags, but coughs again instead, blood flecking his lips, and he just keeps coughing. Panic is creeping in, black dancing at the edges of his vision. He can't get enough air...

"Keep breathing," Lamb commands, his words filtering through the ringing in River's ears. The pressure he's been holding on the hole in River's chest increases as he tightens his grip.

He doesn't know how long it takes, it feels like a lifetime, but the coughing fit finally subsides. His chest is burning, head pounding. He can't catch his breath. And, more than anything else, he's so, so tired. It's a deep, heavy exhaustion. He just wants to sleep.

"Cartwright! You open your fucking eyes, now."

Fucking Lamb. Louisa is speaking too, but River can't discern the words. She's too far away. He suspects she wants him to stay awake too, though, damn her. Damn both of them.

"Now!" Lamb repeats, tapping River's face. "You hear me, Cartwright? That's an order. I know you're shit at following those, but you had better follow this one. Come on. Eyes open. If you won't do it for me, do it for Guy. You saw what happened after Min. What do you think'll happen if you die in her backseat?"

That sparks something, the faintest bit of anger, and River's eyes open a little. He doesn't know how he manages it.

He doesn't know if he'll manage it again.

xxx

[sarahscribbles]

What if you did a summer fic where it started out really fluffy where Loki and reader go to the pool or lake, but then the reader pushes Loki in and it’s just like playful fight and then they have pool or lake sex 💀

I meant this to be super smutty but these fools had their own idea and it's smuffy instead! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! This probably has the most anti-climatic ending every and I'm sorry! 😅

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟓𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

There are many things you dislike about Tony Stark. 

You dislike his arrogance that’s barely mellowed a fraction with age. You dislike how he refuses to back down in an argument, even when it’s painfully clear to everyone else that he’s wrong. You dislike the way he makes his hot chocolate with water and has the nerve to call it “the real thing.”

But one thing you adore about him is his generosity. 

It’s because of Tony that you can feel a warm afternoon breeze gently caressing your bare skin. It’s, thankfully, not unbearably hot. Instead, it provides just the perfect amount of relief against the mid morning sun that’s making the Pacific Ocean glitter invitingly before you. The breeze brings with it the fragrant scent of the manicured garden just down below, and you can’t help but close your eyes to breathe it in. There are traces of orange and vanilla perfuming the air, along with something spicy that you’ve failed to discern after two days. 

It’s a strange combination of scents, yet somehow it works. It reminds you that you’re a million miles away from New York and everything that comes with it. 

You aren’t going to be called to any ridiculously early training sessions with Rogers, or asked to help break up whatever pissing contest Thor and Tony have going on. For two weeks - two glorious weeks - you’re just a normal person celebrating her anniversary with the love of her life. 

Only you’re doing so on a private island in Mexico that you flew to on Tony Stark’s private jet. 

This was his gift to you and Loki - two uninterrupted weeks together to just be a normal couple. You’re still not sure how you can ever thank him, not that he’ll expect you to. 

It’s one of the best things about him, though you’ll never say it to his face. His ego, after all, is big enough. 

“This place suits you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.” Your lover’s voice, sweet as honey, drifts across the room. Even after three years together, it still makes tiny butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You turn to see Loki strolling easily through the wide open space of Tony’s beach house. He looks as regal and elegant as ever, even wearing a slouchy pair of grey sweatpants that sit low on his hips. You appreciate that he’s forgone a shirt, choosing instead to flaunt his chiseled chest and the faint red scratch marks still adorning it.

The patchwork of lovebites on his neck, though, isn’t so subtle. Not that you mind - you want everyone and their mother to know that this man is yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relaxed,” you reply, basking in the feel of his strong arms looping around your waist. You breathe in the scent of him, letting it wrap itself around you like a safety blanket. 

It’s Loki. It’s home.

He pulls you back tighter against his bare chest, continuing to loop his arms around you in such a way that you know nothing in the world could ever hurt you, and you soon feel the gentle press of his lips in your hair. It’s these small moments - like being wrapped in his arms while the ocean twinkles happily before you - that you wish you could live in. He’s the love of your life, your best friend, and no amount of time spent with him is ever enough. 

“Mmm, if your snoring is anything to go by, then I believe you,” he teases with a playful nip to the tip of your ear. “For a moment I feared my brother had followed us here.” 

You grin and bump your hips back against his. “Are you trying to get pushed in the pool? Because it sounds like you’re trying to get pushed in the pool.”

His quick laughter rolls over you, rich and deep as velvet, and the sound of it still makes something warm and golden blossom in your stomach. “Your threats are truly adorable, darling,” he replies, resting his chin atop your head. 

It’s only for a second because you’re quickly wrigging in his arms until you’re both face to face. Only now, you get to admire up close the love bites you covered him in the night before, and how his pale skin makes them deliciously prominent. He looks so beautiful, so damned sinful, that you’re filled with a new determination that he’ll be wearing your marks for the entire two weeks. 

“What? You don’t think I could push you in that pool?” You feign offense, but the twinkle of mischief in his eyes tells you he knows you’re only starting the age old game between you both.

“Darling, do tell me,” he begins smoothly, bending easily to lock his hands behind your knees and toss you over his shoulder like you weigh less than air. “How exactly do you plan on accomplishing that from here?” He gives your ass a light slap as if to emphasise his point.

He lets his hand rest there as he carries you through the house, all the while your half hearted cries of protest melt quickly to bubbles of laughter. “You never play fair! Asshole!” you pretend to huff as he effortlessly sends the bamboo doors swinging open without so much as a touch.

It’s hotter than you anticipated outside - much hotter - and you’re quickly grateful for the coolness of Loki’s skin seeping through the thin material of your robe like a soothing balm. It’s a gratefulness that doesn’t last long - little more than a space of a heartbeat - when Loki decides to roughly pinch your ass, hard enough that your cunt clenches and you know that a bruise will be blooming beautifully there come tomorrow.

“Oh, darling, has it really taken you all this time to notice?” he teases, turning down the shaded path that winds lazily down to the pool. 

Unseen by him, you roll your eyes. 

With each step Loki takes, the air grows thicker with the sweet scent of vanilla and the heavy scent of the Mexican heat. The trees towering above are alive with the cheerful melodies of a choir of songbirds and, in the distance, you can hear the rush of water from the impressive waterfall that spills neverendingly into the pool. It’s so blissfully peaceful that you could easily fall asleep on Loki’s shoulder, but as the crashing of the waterfall grows closer and you realise he’s heading towards the pool, you quickly stop chattering and stiffen on his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him slowly, trying your best to prop yourself up on his strong back. His skin is so wonderfully cool against yours, though, that you can’t stop the quiet moan of contentment. 

A large hand runs along the back of your thigh, sending a trail of goosebumps erupting along your body as how deceptively harmless it feels. “Hmm? Whatever do you mean, darling?” he replies innocently. “I only thought we could admire Stark’s pool together.”

That damn pool. 

You try vainly to twist in his grip, to try and calculate just how many seconds you have before he’s tossing you into the water, but, no matter how you turn, all you can see is the sandstone tiles of the floor. 

“We’ve admired this pool every night since we got here! It’s probably more familiar with your ass than I am!” you shoot back, just as Loki comes to a stop right by the edge of the pool. 

He doesn’t reply, but makes a show of turning left and right, as though he’s deliberating where best to throw you in to keep himself safe from your inevitable retaliation when you resurface. You feel him adjust his arms around you, letting one snake across your bare legs as though he’s preparing to toss you in, and fresh protests spill easily from your lips in a last desperate plea.

“Loki! I mean it! Don’t you dare….!” Your voice has risen several octaves and you’re wriggling in his grip, something you know is completely pointless. If Loki wants to throw you in the pool, then you’re going to be thrown in the pool. 

You feel yourself moving through the air and your arms are already flailing, bracing for contact with the clearer than crystal water. You’re even sucking in a breath and closing your eyes in preparation…

But your feet come into quick contact with the solid ground beneath you. 

When your eyes snap open, Loki is grinning wickedly at you and those pretty green eyes are dancing with mischief. You swear you fall in love with him a little bit more. 

“Did you really think I’d do that to you, darling?” he purrs smoothly, looping strong arms back around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. 

Thankful as you are for the soothing coolness seeping off him, you answer with a soft thwack that you know barely tickles him. “Yes! Throwing someone in a pool - throwing me in a pool - is your equivalent of setting a child loose in a bouncy castle!” You try to sound stern, but he can no doubt see the grin that’s threatening to break across your face. 

He’s a mischievous scamp, he’s what your grandmother would fondly call a rascal, but he can make you smile as easily as breathing. It’s one of the many, many reasons why you love him with every last fibre of your being, with your entire soul. He’s your God of Mischief and you wouldn’t have him any other way. 

Loki lets his face fall, but love still shines in his eyes like a new star in the night sky. “I am wounded, darling, that you think so little of me. Perhaps I wasn’t generous enough last night?” He slides his hands down to squeeze your ass, and a new look settles across his handsome face. 

Lust. 

Something hot and molten lurches to life in your stomach and your core burns almost instantly at the memory of him between your thighs. His warm tongue licking and lapping for hours until you felt all but boneless against the mattress and his quiet moans as though bringing you to climax was the sole source of his pleasure. 

You breathe in deeply and your fingers curl into the bare skin of Loki’s shoulder. It’s something he doesn’t miss - of course he doesn’t miss - and he squeezes your ass again, this time notably rougher. 

“Mmm, that’s what I thought,” he purrs, so low and deep that you can feel it rumbling through his chest. “If those glorious little noises you made all night were an indication, you did seem quite fond of my mouth, darling.”

That sinfully talented mouth of his. Not only could it weave words so sweet that your heart filled with warmth, but it could make you see entire galaxies explode behind your eyes.

One cool hand rises to cup your cheek and you lean easily into it. Loki’s eyes are sparkling in front of you, and you know you’re looking at a man so hopelessly in love that he would burn the world to cinders if you asked. He looks so soft, so happy, and it’s only you that will ever see him this way. 

It’s intoxicating.

His eyes flick to your lips and you part them almost on instinct. His hand at your waist pulls you tighter against him until you can feel his racing heartbeat thumping against yours. You wait until his lips are barely a milimetre from yours, until you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks. 

You wait until he leasts expect it to shove him with all your strength into the pool.

It’s the unexpectedness that makes it a success, and he falls into the water all flailing limbs and colourful curses. It’s the most undignified you’ve ever seen him and a shout of laughter rises out of you like a butterfly on the wind, even though you’ve likely signed your own death warrant. 

Your heart is racing in your chest when he surfaces and you see the dangerous glint now glittering in his eyes, the one that tells you he’ll show no mercy once he gets his hands on you. Still, you can’t wipe the prideful smile from your face - it’s been months since you’ve managed to trick him.

He glides effortlessly - elegantly, even - through the water, even with the weight of his soaking sweatpants. “That was a very foolish thing to do, dove,” he warns, the deep, playful timbre of his voice making your cunt clench in anticipation of what he’s planning. 

You expect him to climb out of the pool and throw you back over his shoulder. Maybe he’ll take you straight to the cabana and lay you across his knee. Or, maybe he’ll edge you senseless for a few hours before making you cum again and again and again, until you’re barely able to string two words together…

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Loki to reach and grab you easily around the knees until you’re folded over his shoulder. 

“No, Loki, don’t -!” You manage to screech out between rolls of laughter before he drops you in the water without ceremony. 

It washes over you, cool and refreshing against the Mexican heat, and you find you almost want to stay submerged between the twinkling surface. When you do resurface, your robe is sticking tight to your body and Loki is wearing a grin so boyish and infectious that you can’t help but return it. 

You launch yourself at him across the water, aiming to knock him backwards as further retaliation, but he barely stumbles and catches you easily in his arms. 

“Truly an admirable attempt, but you’ll have to try much harder than that,” he teases smoothly. 

You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he only twists his arms tighter around your waist to press you firmly against his chest. “Let me go and I will,” you reply, still trying in vain to wrench yourself free. 

Loki’s answering laughter is light and makes your heart skip a beat. “Darling, I have no intention of letting you go. Not when you still owe me a kiss.”

Playfully, you turn your head to the side in a refusal to meet his request. “Nope. I don’t want to kiss you,” you pretend to huff, but barely a second later a strong hand presses against your cheek to make you face him.

And then his lips are crashing against yours. 

You can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat because as long you live you’ll never grow tired of how it feels to kiss him. His lips are soft as fresh snow, and they’re moving so slowly and lazily against your own that your first instinct is to try and pull him even closer, even though you’re skin on skin.

You would melt into this man if you could.

His hands wander easily to your chest to begin pushing the sopping wet material of your robe off your shoulders, and it’s impossible not to moan into his mouth when his fingers dance over your bare skin in a hungry search for more. Yours follow beneath the water, eagerly reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants only to be met with the firm muscles of his lower stomach.

You grin into the kiss. “Presumptuous,” you tease against his lips, letting your fingers trace idly along the hardened length of him beneath the water.

“Would you have turned me down, dove?” he replies, nipping gently at your lower lip while he rolls his hips into your hand. 

“No,” you breathe out, twisting yourself back around him. 

It’s just you and Loki - naked, and making out in Tony Stark’s swimming pool like a pair of lust fueled teenagers. It’s invigorating, it’s addictive. Nothing on earth could make you give this man up. 

The easy, languid silence of your kiss is only broken by the melody of birdsong from above and the crash of the waterfall behind you. You’re so focused on Loki - how his hands feel as they explore your body like you’re a work of art and how his hair feels tangled around your fingers - that you barely notice he’s walking you both backward in the pool until you’re hit with the full force of the waterfall from above. 

It only lasts for a second, but you still pull back from Loki with a screech of shock and a look of amused exasperation. “Was that…was that really -,” you begin, only to be cut off by his mouth finding yours again. 

It’s only then that you realise he’s pushed you into the little alcove hidden behind the waterfall. The Mexican sun is no longer burning down on you and instead, it’s blissfully cool. It’s comfortable.

God, how you love him.

Loki’s hands are still grasping you like he fears you’ll slip away and his lips are worshipping every part of you that he can reach. He’s everywhere all at once, almost as though you’re going to be snatched from him before he has the chance to love you. 

“Beautiful thing. Enchanting creature,” he murmurs, kissing his way down your neck and setting your blood on fire. 

“I’m not going anywhere, you know,” you manage to force the words out while his teeth nip at your skin. 

You feel the wet heat of his tongue soothing the marks he’s just made, and if it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you swear you would crumble to the floor of the pool. 

“Oh, darling, I’d like to see you try,” he replies, just as your back hits the smooth wall of the alcove. 

You let him press you against it until you aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. His mouth is hot and heavy and demanding against yours, and already he’s wrapped a hand around your knee to coax your leg around his waist. It’s a request you grant him easily, quickly wrapping both around him to pull him tight against you and letting your heels squeeze against the flesh of his ass. 

That perfect, godly ass.

Loki moans shamelessly into your mouth as your grip makes his cock brush teasingly against you. It’s one sound that you’ll never tire of hearing - the sound of your lovers pleasure - and it sends molten heat flowing through your blood. 

It’s an automatic reaction to then twist your fingers tighter in his soaking curls, anything to pull that divine sound from him once again. “God, you’re sexy when you moan.” It’s a mindless comment, but it slips from your lips before you can stop it. 

Because, well, he is.

You feel Loki pull back and when you peer at him through half lidded eyes, his lips are curled in that devilishly handsome smirk that sends your heart skipping in your chest. “And what of the rest of the time? Must you keep wounding me, my darling?” he teases, all while dragging his cock torturously through your cunt.

A moan flutters from you as eager fingers grasp his broad shoulders. Wantonly, you try to spread your legs further, try to invite him in, but it’s impossible when he’s already got you spread like a sin for him. 

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” you breathe out, head hitting the stone behind you as the tip of his cock brushes wondrously over your clit. 

His every touch feels electric and you know he’s ruined you for anyone else. Not that there’ll ever be anyone else, of course; Loki is your missing puzzle piece and your entire heart. He’s yours for keeps. 

“Oh?” he answers and latches on to the sensitive skin of your neck once more, but still not easing into you the way you’re desperate for him to. “And what else, hmm?”

You laugh softly in his ear and you swear you feel him smile against your neck. You’ll play along. If he wants praise then you’ll give it to him until your lungs give out. “You’re brave. So brave. My beautiful, brave boy,” you murmur while he continues to nip along your throat. 

He pauses to press a gentle, lingering kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, only to resume his path of lovebites across your collarbone. 

“You’re funny. God, you’re funny, most times without even trying.” You keep going, hearing him hum in approval against your skin. 

He’s been mostly silent, but you can feel how much he loves you in every press of his lips and nip of his teeth. It’s enough to have tears prick at the backs of your eyes.

“You make me feel like I’m enough every single day,” you say in little more than a whisper. You feel his lips go still against your collarbone, and then he’s pulling back to look at you with those glittering green eyes. “You’re a good person, Loki, and you’re my best friend.”

His eyes soften at the same time the water around you ripples. He clasps your face in both hands to place a blistering kiss to your waiting lips. It’s hot and heavy and passionate, and you feel it all the way down to your toes. You’re clasping his shoulders like he’s your life raft and drinking him in like oxygen. 

He’s Loki. He’s all you’ll ever need. 

Slowly, he pulls back from your lips to let his nose bump against yours and you feel him roll his hips, pressing the entire hardened length of his cock against your aching cunt. “Say my name,” he says huskily. It’s both an order and a plea. 

“Loki…ugh!” you groan shamelessly when the tip of his cock brushes tormentingly over your clit. Your nails are digging so hard into his shoulders that you can clearly see the tiny half moons marking his skin, but he still doesn’t give you what you crave. 

“Again,” he demands, unquestionable lust now dripping from his voice. 

“Loki…fuck…please!” You arch your back against the cool stone as he presses against your entrance

“Again.” 

“Loki!” The third cry of his name melts to a whine when he slides himself inside you in one smooth thrust, until you’re filled to the brim with your god. 

Eager muscles clench desperately around him because you’re close to drunk on the solid feel of him between your legs and impatient for the first glorious thrust of his hips. It doesn’t come, though, and instead, he rests his forehead against yours while he’s buried inside you. You can feel the impatient twitch of his cock, but still, he doesn’t move.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he says softly, voicing the same thought you’ve had about him time and time again. “My beautiful little mortal. How lucky am I to call you mine.” 

His voice is sweeter than honey and sends warmth flooding through your veins, filling every inch of you with so much love for him that you fear it will spill from your pores. This beautiful, perfect man - who never stops doubting how worthy he is of your love - is everything you ever dreamed of and more. 

You want to tell him, to tell him that he’s the reason you breathe and the reason your world spins, but it’s impossible to convey the depth of your feelings. “I love you.” You settle on saying. It’s soft and quiet and you know he knows, but his eyes light up each and every time you tell him, and right now they’re glittering like new stars.

Will you ever tire of how devastatingly beautiful he is?

There’s another quiet ripple of calm, turquoise water as he leans in to kiss you again, and this time it’s wondrously slow and deep. It feels like magic, like he’s pouring his entire soul into this one kiss. You loop your arms tighter around his shoulders and his hips finally begin to roll against yours as equally slow and deep as his kiss. 

That’s when you realise. He isn’t going to fuck you beneath this waterfall - he’s going to make love to you. 

His lips are locked with yours while he moves, each slow, deliberate thrust of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you perfectly. Your quiet whimper mixes with his deep moan, and you press the heels of your feet against his ass again, pushing him deeper still with each thrust because you can never get him close enough. 

“You’re…you’re amazing, Loki,” you say stupidly when you break for air. “Completely amaz…ugh!”

Your praise melts to another moan when he buries his face in your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses along your flushed skin at the same you feel his hand groping around beside you.

“Take my hand,” he breathes out roughly. It’s such an innocent request that makes your heart feel like it will burst. 

What did you do so right to deserve this man? 

Wordlessly, you intertwine your fingers with his, feeling him squeeze your hand as he begins to build you toward the edge. He knows your body so intimately that it doesn’t take long for the first heady ripples of pleasure to flicker in your core. 

Loki rests his forehead against your temple, grunting and whimpering so beautifully in your ear that it sends an inferno burning between your thighs. Each thrust of his cock has you keening and babbling out pleas for more - and more he’s only too happy to give you. 

He’s filling you so beautifully and making you dance right on the edge of pleasure that you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll last without toppling over. 

Loki, though, silences your worries barely a moment later with a pornographic grunt. “I’m close…darling…’m so close,” he pleads shakily as you cradle his head against you. 

“Loki…I’m - “

“Cum for me,” Loki interrupts huskily with another squeeze of your hand. “Please, darling.” 

Barely a second later, your climax rips through every inch of you and Loki’s name is falling from your lips like a prayer. He freefalls at the exact moment you do, pressing you firmly against the stone while he chases every last drop of his pleasure. It’s dizzying, almost, to hear his curses, his moans, his cries of your name as his orgasm shatters him. 

Even more dizzying are the sounds of his deep, heavy pants in your ear as he comes down from his high, and his chest heaves against yours while you both catch your breath. You, an insignificant little mortal, have made this god unravel like string. It makes pride bloom through you and clutch him that little bit tighter to your chest. 

“I love you,” Loki murmurs quietly, his lips ghosting across your cheek in the softest of kisses. “But, darling, I simply must have you again,” he teases and easily tosses you back over his shoulder.

You can’t help but laugh as he wades through the water, not even close to tired. “Maybe in a bed this time? I think that would be nice.” 

His shoulder shakes beneath you. “There are 32 rooms in Stark’s humble home. I don’t plan on leaving this island until I’ve had you in each and every one of them.”

[jesncin]

not to throw shade- but it is a tiny thing I feel I have to say. John Constantine is not a perpetual outsider, in the context of being a British person in America (in Dead In America).

You can just say he's a foreigner. The term "perpetual foreigner" is to refer to people who are perceived as foreigners even when they are native born citizens. In the American context this means Asian American and Pacific Islander people. Johnstantine is a white man, sure he sticks out because of his accent and British-ness but he isn't perceived as foreign because he's not part of a racial minority group.

He's not going to be asked "so where are you really from" the same way an Asian person constantly would be asked in America.

[bekolxeram]

Buck being Buck, of course he'll do something stupidly sweet to make sure Tommy won't spend the holidays alone. (Spoilers, he's asking everyone Tommy knows to keep him company.) Tommy being Tommy, of course he's already ordered a Christmas gift for Buck months ago. Here's what happens after Sal told Tommy a kid from the 118 tracked him down and begged him to stay in LA for the holidays instead of flying home. (Buck offered to pay for his entire family to fly to LA instead, Sal said "you're fucking crazy.") Please enjoy this tiny snippet of Bucktommy's continuing saga in my head.

"Dear Buck,

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I got you these because I remember you said — "

Tommy crumples the piece of paper he’s been writing on in his hand. It didn’t sound right. It sounded too much like he got out of his way to buy his ex a thoughtful gift, nearly 2 months after he walked out of the door and tore his heart into pieces. It takes a special kind of bastard to do that, to think that he still has the right to do that. Ev… Buck is an amazing guy and a total catch anyway, he’s probably seeing someone new already, exploring his new found freedom, enjoying the joy of fully being his true self. The last thing Tommy wants is to overstep his boundaries, or worse, to throw a wrench into his gradually stabilizing life.

He picks up another paper and starts over.

"Mr. Buckley,

Thank you for your thoughtful gesture. I would like to express my gratitude by gifting you these — "

This too joins the growing pile of paper balls on Tommy’s table. It may be the worst one so far, it reads more like an official diplomatic address between two countries on opposite sides of the Pacific Ocean. Who even calls him Mr. Buckley?

Staring at the box sitting on his kitchen island, Tommy seems to run out of idea even faster.

It’s about the size of a shoebox, it currently contains something Tommy ordered months in advance that would’ve been Buck’s Christmas gift. The package is wrapped up in simple matte gray with white snowflakes pattern throughout, adorned by a classic red ribbon tied into a bow. The only thing missing is a written message from the sender attached.

With an empty mind, Tommy starts writing again. This time, he lets his heart guide his pen.

"Dear Evan,

Thank you.

I can’t believe you did that for me, even after what I did to you.

I guess that’s just who you are, always caring, always considerate, always burning yourself to illuminate others.

You have a way to people’s heart, you know? Anyone would be lucky to have you.

And boy was I lucky. You almost made me believe I deserved a life with you.

But I also know once the initial excitement has passed, you’ll start seeing me for who I really am. Trust me, you’ll end up hating me. I’ve been there before.

I wish I was brave enough to stay, but I’m not an activist, I’m not a fighter, I’m just… broken. I spent most of my life hiding in the closet that I’ve hurt more people than I can count, I’ve hurt people I loved, I’ve hurt people you loved.

When you asked me to move in with you, even after… no, especially after you’d learned my history with Abby, I knew I had to walk away. No matter how much it hurt at the time, the thought of you despising me, being abhorred by my past, revolted by my cowardice, would quite literally kill me.

Maybe I should’ve cut things short earlier, and I’m sorry for being selfish, for being greedy. Every time I got to wake up next to you, to watch your beautiful face at peace in the land of dreams, I prayed for just one more morning like this. Every time I got to stay up with you, to hold you in my arms while you were diving deep into whatever obscure topic that perked your interest, I hoped for just another night basking in your presence.

Maybe I should’ve never accepted the invite to your sister’s wedding.

Maybe I should’ve never agreed to meet you at the café that morning.

Maybe I should’ve never asked you out to begin with.

But I did. I did all of that fully knowing my heart would be broken one way or another. And it was all my fault.

I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry.

Maybe I’ve always known deep down how it would end before it even started, but I guess I…

I loved you anyway."

Instead of adding to the pile of scrapped ideas, Tommy abruptly stands up, taking his heartfelt confession with him, and throws it into the fireplace.

He watches on as the searing hot flame engulfs the piece of paper, rendering his soul into tiny bits of black charcoal, which slowly dissipate into nothingness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Knock, knock, knock*

"Hey, you’re early. I haven’t finished packi… Oh." Buck says as he’s opening the door.

Surprisingly, the person standing in front of him isn’t the one he’s expecting.

"Evan Buckley?"

"Yes, I am him."

"You have a package delivery. Just sign here and you’re good to go." The mailman hands him a clip board with a confirmation form on it.

"And… done, thank you. Happy holidays." Bucks trades the signed receipt for the nicely wrapped box in the mailman’s hand.

"You too."

Buck doesn’t recall having ordered anything to be delivered lately. That’s when he notices the small envelope attached to the ribbon tied around the box. There’s a handwritten note inside, the handwriting oddly familiar. It says:

"Dear Buck,

I ordered these many months ago when you told me you were running out of space for photos on your fridge.

I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done. You don’t have to get me anything in return.

Think of it as a parting gift, one last piece from the past, before you move on to a much brighter future.

To new beginnings.

- T"

Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm down his rippling emotions. He then carefully unties the ribbon to unwrap the gift box. Inside it, there’s a set of magnetic digital picture frames.

While he’s debating what to do with this thoughtful gift from his ex, whether to put it up to use or not, he hears knocking on the door once again. Only this time, the right person is standing on the other side.

"Uncle Buck!😊"

(Inspired by this song, I do recommend listening to it while (re)reading)

Everything I've written exists in the same universe and timeline btw. If you've read my ficlet set in next March, you'll know it's not that sad. Anyway I hope I'd be able to turn all my headcanon in to a long series one day. (Sorry for the long addendum, I tried putting everything in tags but Tumblr stopped showing this post in the tags)