#tortoise bones

[originalleftist]

Over half of anti-Heard tweets were bots or paid trolls, many linked to Saudi government bots.

"According to an investigation by Tortoise Media, which examined more than one million tweets, more than 50 per cent of anti-Heard messages in the run-up to the 2022 defamation case were "inauthentic' - either from automated "bot" accounts or people hired to attack the actress."

"Bradley Hope, author of a book on Bin Salman, told the podcast that the pro-Depp tweets emanating from Saudi Arabia appear to be produced by "flies", a name for Saudi bot accounts."

"An intelligence professional who tracks online disinformation campaigns, said there was only a "0.1 per cent chance" that the hate directed at Heard was from genuine Depp fans.

The investigation also claims that bot networks in Thailand and Spain tweeted large numbers of pro-Depp messages."

"...more than 100 Twitter accounts sent 1,000 identical messages at exactly the same time to any company that had worked with Heard, reading: "This brand supports domestic violence against men."'

"The makers of the podcast argue that the criticism of Heard could have affected the jury in the 2022 US defamation trial which found in favour of Depp."

"So, if you couldn't tell the difference between a real-life Johnny Depp fan and a bot in 2022, then you probably won't be able to tell a Russian troll from a US election official in 2024. And that represents a serious problem for the security of our democracies."-Alexi Mostrous, presenter of the podcast.

"Johnny Depp and the Saudi Embassy did not respond to Tortoise's request for comment."

[awanderingtortoise]

Writing snippet! bc I choose to believe Nikolai and Zoya made good use of that dead airtime between KoS and RoW (even though the whole ehri marriage probably hung over it like a wet blanket )

good god I miss them no one does verbal sparring quite like zoyalai

[birbbones]

Myrtle is now ready to be returned to her owner 🥺 🐢 (her shell was only requested to be processed, I'm being allowed to keep her skull and skeleton so will be articulating her with a donor shell in the future).

[mariocki]

The China Syndrome (1979)

"I may be wrong, but I'd say you're lucky to be alive. For that matter, I think we might say the same for the rest of Southern California."

[batnbreakfast]

RIP my notes - the bone collectors found my museum post. 😄

Honestly, if you read this: Have fun with the post, go visit Natuurmuseum Klaas Nanninga in Groningen if you’re in The Netherlands or go, visit The Grant Museum of Zoology when in London, and also have a look at one of my favourite skeleton pics I once took behind the scenes at the Naturalis museum in Leiden, NL:

If you think about following me: I don’t actually post a lot of taxidermy/wet specimens/skeletons. This is mostly a very, very queer fandom blog with some travel- and gardening stories thrown in for good measure. 😄

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word Alternatives: Colours

BLACK atramentous, charcoal, coal, crow, darksomeness, denigration, duskiness, ebony, funereal, jet, inkiness, melanism, melanotic, midnight, niello, obsidian, pitch, raven, sable, singe, sloe, smirch, smoke, sombrous, soot, swarthiness, swartness, tar

BLUE aquamarine, azure, berylline, cerulean, cerulescent, cyan, cyanosis, cyanotic, electric blue, ice-blue, indigo, lividity, midnight, navy, Oxford blue, pavonian, pavonine, peacock blue, robin's egg blue, royal blue, sapphire, turquoise, ultramarine

BROWN adust, auburn, beige, biscuit, braise, bay, bronze, brune, brunette, buff, burnt umber, burnt sienna, caramel, castaneous, chestnut, chocolate, cinnamon, cocoa, coffee, drab, dun, embrown, fawn, grege, hazel, henna, infuscation, khaki, mushroom, ochre, paper bag, pumpernickel, raw sienna, raw umber, roan, rubiginous, rufous, russet, rust, scorch, seal, sepia, sorrel, suntan, sunburn, tan, taupe, toast, umber, walnut

GRAY ashiness, canescence, cinereous, cineritious, dullness, ecru, fuscous, glaucescence, greige, grisaille, gunmetal, hoar, iron, lead, mousiness, oyster, pewter, slatiness, smokiness, steel, taupe

GREEN aerugo, aestival, avocado, beryl, chartreuse, chloremia, chlorophyll, chlorosis, chlorotic, emerald, foliaged, glaucescence, grass, greensickness, ivy, jade, loden green, holly, olivaceous, olive, patina, patinate, pea-green, smaragdine, springlike, verdancy, verdantness, verdigris, verdure, vernal, virescence, viridescence, viridity

ORANGE apricot, cantaloupe, carotene, carroty, ochreous, ochroid, pumpkin, saffron, tangerine, terracotta, Titian

PINK carnation, coral, coralline, flesh-pink, incarnadine, peach, primrose, roseate, rosy, salmon

PURPLE amethystine, aubergine, bruise, empurple, fuchsia, lavender, lilac, lividity, magenta, mauve, mulberry, orchid, pansy, plum, puce, purpure, purpureous, raisin, violaceous, violet

RED beet, blowzy, cardinal, carmine, carnation, carnelian, cerise, cherry, copper, crimson, damask, encrimson, erubescence, erythema, erythematous, erythrism, erythroderma, ferruginous, fire, floridity, floridness, flushing, gules, hectic, henna, incarnadine, infrared, laky, lateritious, lobster, lurid, magenta, mantling, maroon, miniate, port, puce, raddle, rose, rosiness, rouge, rubefaction, rubicundity, rubor, rubricity, ruby, ruddiness, rufescence, rufosity, russet, rust, sanguine, scarlet, stammel, vermeil, vermilion, vinaceous

YELLOW aureateness, auric, aurify, banana, begild, bilious, biliousness, cadmium, canary, chartreuse, citreous, citrine, citron, engild, fallowness, flavescent, flaxen, fulvous, gildedness, gilt, goldenness, honey, icteric, icterus, jaundice, lemon, lutescent, luteous, luteolous, mustard, ochroid, old gold, primrose yellow, saffron, sallowness, sandy, straw, sulfur, topaz, xanthism, xanthochroism, xanthoderma

WHITE achromatic, alabaster, albescent, albinic, besnow, blanch, bleach, bone, calcimine, chalk, cream, cretaceous, eggshell, etiolate, ghastly, ivory, lactescent, lily, lime, milk, pearl, sheet, swan, sheep, fleece, flour, foam, marmoreal, niveous, paper, pearl, phantom, silver, snow, driven snow, tallow, teeth, wax, wool

VARIEGATION (diversity of colors) spectrum, rainbow, iris, chameleon, leopard, jaguar, cheetah, ocelot, zebra, barber pole, candy cane, Dalmatian, firedog, peacock, butterfly, mother-of-pearl, nacre, tortoise shell, opal, kaleidoscope, stained glass, serpentine, calico cat, marble, mackerel sky, confetti, crazy quilt, patchwork quilt, shot silk, moire, watered silk, marbled paper, Joseph's coat, harlequin, tapestry; bar code, checkerboard

variegation, multicolor; parti-color; medley or mixture of colors, spectrum, rainbow of colors, riot of color; polychrome, polychromatism; dichromatism, trichromatism; dichroism, trichroism

iridescence, iridization, irisation, opalescence, nacreousness, pearliness, chatoyancy, play of colors or light; light show; moire pattern, tabby; burelé or burelage

spottiness, maculation, freckliness, speckliness, mottledness, mottlement, dappleness, dappledness, stippledness, spottedness, dottedness; fleck, speck, speckle; freckle; spot, dot, polka dot, macula, macule, blotch, splotch, patch, splash; mottle, dapple; brindle; stipple, stippling, pointillism, pointillage

check, checker, checks, checking, checkerboard, chessboard; plaid, tartan; checker-work, variegated pattern, harlequin, colors in patches, crazy-work, patchwork; parquet, parquetry, marquetry, mosaic, tesserae, tessellation; crazy-paving; hound's tooth; inlay, damascene

stripe, striping, candy-stripe, pinstripe; barber pole; streak, streaking; striation, striature, stria; striola, striga; crack, craze, crackle, reticulation; bar, band, belt, list

mottled, motley; pied, piebald, skewbald, pinto; dappled, dapple; calico; marbled; clouded; salt-and-pepper

Source: The Concise Roget's International Thesaurus, Revised & Updated (6th Edition) More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[crow]

number 9

apparentlya tortoise has nerve endingsin its shellwhich itself is a modified breastbonea skeleton on the outsidelooking smooth and roughit feels everythingin its actual boneswhereas i have only my skinand where there is numbnessthere exists dull pressurelike a weight through cottonor a talk show host’s monologueyou can work on these exercisesto increase mobilityextend range of motionreduce joint…

[kakushino]

Waking up

~300 words, fluff, Giyuu x GN reader Masterlist

Giyuu was warm. His body was floating amongst fluffy clouds, everything fuzzy and diluted. He slowly became aware of his heartbeat, blood thrumming through his veins, air breathed in and out. 

He hadn’t dreamed today, his mind filing the thought as a positive one as he woke up at a tortoise’s pace.

“Mhmm.”

He registered warmth pressed against his right arm and the presence of another person at his side - his lover. 

Unbidden, a smile graced his lips, and he slowly turned onto his side to see you head on. 

He traced your features with his eyes, selfishly hoping you would wake up and gift him your attention. He felt like a scoundrel for wanting more, always greedy for every drop of your affection. Giyuu never deserved it though, he perhaps never would…

Yet that didn’t stop him from entangling himself into your life, stealing your heart for his own, imprinting himself onto and into your body - and he devoted himself to you in turn. If only in the mornings, the devotion was his way of life, prayers falling upon your ears, an unholy man worshiping something holy.

Goosebumps appeared on your skin, the minute movement of your body immediately alerting him to your discomfort. It was winter after all. 

Giyuu scooted closer and put his arm around you, adjusting the blanket. He buried his nose in your hair, which still smelled like the aromatic oil you put in after bath yesterday. For a minute, he just breathed you in. The warmth was intoxicating, it seeped into the marrow of his bones and filled him with contentment. 

He cherished you, he adored you ardently. 

At times, he wished he could stay in your embrace forever, forget the demons and the fighting and pain. You were his solace, his peace, his relief.

He breathed you in, and promised to himself to never let you go.

Dividers made by Luma Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

[revretch]

Taxonomically speaking:

Hares are rabbits, toads are frogs, butterflies are moths, tortoises are turtles, humans are apes, apes are monkeys, moose are deer, bees are wasps, ants are also wasps, termites are roaches, birds are dinosaurs, insects are crustaceans, and everything with bones is a fish.

[writers-potion]

Writing Armour

Types of Armour

All types of clothing provide some protection.

For street fights where you have a couple of teenagers brawling, it would be appropriate to dress them in jeans and a jacket. For more protection, a quilted winter coat or a morotbiker's thick leather jacket, perhaps.

Leather, especially when treated and straightened, offers good protection against arrows, swords, and spears.

The historical armour will include glued-together layers of fabric, thin wooden or bone platelets sewn onto cloth. For wealthier and more advanced societies, metal would be used.

An armour has many parts, and you'll want to describe them with varying levels of detail. However, here are the basics:

A cuirass is a breastplate, protecting the heart and abdomen.

Greaves are shin guards, usually strapped on, protecting the front fo teh lower legs.

Arm guards (bracers)

Helmets

Modern armour will involve a bulletproof vest (which may also be knife-proof). It can be stiff and heavy, and the wearer will sweat under them.

The body armour can lose its effectiveness after a few years.

Disadvantages of Armour

The typical armour (made of steel) is heavy and clunky. In a few hours, your hero is likely to be sweaty, hot and stinky on the inside.

Armour restricts mobility.

Every armour have gaps (the wearer needs to breathe!), and a clever fighter will aim for the chinks.

Shields

Shields are held by the hand rather than worn, so larger shields will be cumbersome and heavey to move, while smaller ones will offer only partial protection.

Shield often consise of wooden frames with leather, hides or metal. They may be painted with heraldic emblems, scary faces, or with magical pentagons.

A shield can also be used as a weapon, like ramming it under the opponent's chin or slamming it down his feet.

The smaller fighter can use a shield well to their advantage, since a shield of the same size will have fuller coverage of their body. However, they will need a strong arm.

Units of githers may use shield formations, such as the tortoise of the Roman legions, the shield wall of the Vikings, and the Greek hoplites shielding not only themselves but the man next to them.

This post is for writers who are trying to bluff their way through a fight scene with minimal knowledge! For full-fledged scenes, I recommend more research.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[cybersunnie]

18+ / MDNI cock warming; f!reader (wc 992) with PATRICK ZWEIG

There was a story about the tortoise and the hare, and Patrick Zweig was the hare. 

Slow and steady wasn't exactly his style. 

He was quick and impulsive. Careless and arrogant. Annoyingly—or admirably?—persistent like the suffocating heat on a hot summer day. If you spared one glance at Patrick, you'd think he was nothing but smug. And he was well aware of all of this, too. He just never cared much about what other people thought of him, to begin with. 

But Patrick loved a challenge, and he sure liked taking his sweet time with you. Or, more accurately, he enjoyed making you squirm.

He'd have his cock stuffed inside your cunt, and tease you with lingering touches and chaste kisses until you caved in and begged him to fuck you. With Patrick, it was all fire and the wrong kind of love. But sometimes, when he felt a little nicer, he just wanted to be close to you, to become one with you, heartbeats linked and breathing the same breath.

And with how poorly he had been doing in his last few matches, he needed that semblance of human connection he had lost years ago.

The night was young, but Patrick was eager to have you. His hungry kisses left your lips raw, and his mouth traveled south and started to nip at your jaw, his nose digging into your cheek. Everything he did was to distract you. Distract you from the burning sensation you felt as his cock stretched you out.

"There you go, atta girl."

Patrick kept a firm grip on your hips, his thumbs caressing the skin there to soothe your nerves. You always got so flustered whenever you tried to take him. And that was because you felt all of him. The tuft of hair on his pubic bone, the veins on his cock. You'd whine, tell him that it was too much, that he was too big, as if your pussy wasn't made for him.

He liked it, though.

Because in the end, you looked so pretty, sitting on his fat cock. 

You heard him groan, low and guttural, and his large hands snaked up to your ribs, stopping just beneath your breasts. His touch was electrifying—everything about him was—and it sent a slight buzz through your body. And the sight of him alone wasn't helping. Patrick's wild hair and deep green eyes and that fucking smirk he never went without. But as much as you wanted to move, you couldn't. He wouldn't allow it. Not yet.

"Fuck, look at you." Patrick slid a hand further up to cup your breast, and you wondered if he could feel your pounding heart. "I could stare at you for hours."

You raised a brow. "I hope that's not the only thing you'll be doing."

"No, no," he said softly, his gaze darting over your face while he let his other hand wander, fingers tracing up your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. "But it's tempting."

Patrick watched you roll your eyes, and he chuckled, grasping your hips once again and squeezing. He wished he could just keep his cock inside you all night, your cunt keeping it warm and wet and snug. But you were always too fussy to stay still for long. He supposed that was his fault—he did like spoiling you, after all.

"I have an idea."

Ideas and Patrick Zweig didn't mix well. You learned that early on when you first met him. And as you looked into his eyes, seeing the playful mischief within, you knew you were in for a treat whether you liked it or not. 

He took your silence as an invitation to continue, so he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear and voice velvety, "We should do this in front of a mirror next time." 

Or maybe ideas and Patrick Zweig did mix well.

Your mind started to reel, imagination running wild. But Patrick painted the picture for you like it was something he had been thinking about for a while. 

"You'd have no choice but to look at yourself—to look at just how fucking pretty you are when you're like this," Patrick whispered, his voice beginning to get lost in the heat and longing. "I'd keep your legs spread nice and wide so that you can see how my dick looks stuffed inside your sweet pussy." You squirmed, but his grip tightened around your hips. A silent warning to stay still. "Maybe you'd finally understand why I do this to you every time."

He pulled away from your ear, a hand leaving your hip to caress your cheek, his touch soft despite his calloused palm. All you could do was stare at him with a tight chest. "I care about you, you know," he laughed as if to hide the sincerity behind his words. "I'm not just trying to get a quick fuck. I wanna take my time, stay close to you longer." 

For once, his name tasted sweet on your tongue. "Patrick."

It was a prayer disguised as a whisper, a plea for his words to be true. And he hummed, his lips brushing yours as he uttered your name back. If this was the wrong kind of love, why did it feel so right? Why did he feel so right?

You tried to swallow down your pride. "Please."

"Please, what?" Patrick asked, but he knew what you wanted. He was connected to you. Your thoughts were his, too. "C'mon, use your words, baby."

But you couldn't bring yourself to say more, to accept defeat. You pulled your lips taut.

"No? Nothing?" He tilted his head, and his signature smirk was back. "Well, let me know when you figure it out."

And while Patrick was much like the hare, he knew he needed to take it slow and steady when it came to you. You would surrender to him sooner or later. You always did.

author's note: i have very mixed feelings abt this 😄 ANYWHO i will gladly give patrick everything he needs which is a shower and a bed

UNEDITED — 05.14.2024

[awanderingtortoise]

zoya, power, and vulnerability (analysis)

came across a post earlier talking about how Nikolai's realization of how he feels for zoya began when he admitted he was jealous of juris and it got me thinking a ton about zoya's amplifier story and her character in general so get ready for a long ass post on that scene and how it shows 1. zoyalai and mutual understanding, 2. zoya being scarily similar to, but ultimately totally different from the darkling, and 3. juris vs the darkling. spoiler warning for the entire grishaverse

1. Zoyalai and Understanding

One of my absolute favorite aspects of Zoyalai is how they learn to be vulnerable with each other after putting up walls and facades for everyone else, and I think Zoya sharing her amplifier's story is really a major development towards that. Even this early in their development you see how much Nikolai understands her. Just looking at the Darkling's response to Zoya freeing the cubs and contrasting it to Nikolai's:

Where he basically praises her only for wanting power (which actually wasnt even the reason she freed the cubs but alright) and ignores/shuns the innate selflessness that led to her gaining that power in the first place. Nikolai, on the other hand, has such an understanding of that compassion that drives her, actually the same compassion that fuels her fear of not being strong enough to protect everyone because of how much of it he also sees in himself. The whole reason she feels safe enough to share the story with him (well besides the fact that he could have died the next day) is because they echo each other so deeply; never truly being known by anyone to protect themselves from being hurt. (i go more into that here)

2. Zoya and the Darkling

The Darkling, who i am struggling not to refer to as a little shit after reading the second excerpt, was really just another man who saw Zoya through his own biased worldview. Its true they're pretty similar, and I'd say Zoya definitely had the potential to go down the path he did. But surprise surprise, she's actually just a better person than he is.

Both of them are powerful, ambitious Grisha, and I think its fair to say that in his early life, both he and Zoya were motivated by protecting people. The main difference in their driving force is that Aleksander later wanted not only protection for the Grishas but an elevation of status, believing them superior to normal people. Even from that you can already see the main reason that he was corrupted and Zoya wasn't: his motivations had a streak of selfishness. He wanted to be the savior of the Grisha, he wanted to be the most powerful, he wanted to rule.

Zoya, in contrast, is motivated almost out of pure selflessness. In her younger years you can definitely see her as being selfish but so much of that was because of the way the Darkling had conditioned her. He made her so desperate for his approval that it was all that she cared about. In the amplifier story you see that need for his validation ("his disapproval was more painful than any wound..") and the way he turns her away from her heart and towards pure ambition. Like what the hell would make you tell a girl that was nearly killed for trying to save tiger cubs from death that because of her, they were going to die anyway? He all but ensured she'd view her compassion as a weakness, leaving the amplifiers and power as the only valuable thing she'd gained that day.

Liliyana's death is what turns the tide for Zoya's character arc, bringing her back to that core selflessness, showing her the flaw in the Darkling's ideals, making her realize that power matters only when its working towards the greater good. Though she changes and moves to fight alongside Alina, her grief remains with her until KoS and we only see it processed through Juris' teachings, bringing me to the next point:

3. The darkness and the dragon: Juris in contrast to The Darkling

The way I see it (which is apparently not how the Netflix show sees it), Zoya has had 2 father/mentor figures in her life: Juris and The Darkling. Both strong figures, both powerful Grisha. Her actual father unfortunately did not do his job well enough, failing to protect her from being married off, and I believe thats one of the factors that causes her to latch so strongly onto the Darkling as an-- idol?

When Zoya came to the palace she was just a scared girl who'd just had the world ripped out from under her and her father figure fail her. The Darkling then appears, and he is everything her father was not: strong willed where her father was compliant, mysterious where he was familiar, cold where he was warm, and ultimately cruel where her father was kind. Given that the approach of the latter didnt work out, coupled with her natural desire for approval (dont have much evidence but the peach stealing for Sabina? she wanted her mother to love her for sure) it seems only natural that she grab so strongly onto the Darkling as a figure and embrace the ideals he promised, all things that would be comforting to anyone in her situation. She had been helpless, then shown herself to be a Squaller, that manifestation saving her from a life of suffering. He promised their power made them greater and stronger, that there would be a future where they would have nothing to fear from anyone ever again. What was there for her left to do but to hold onto that promise and the man who had given it?

Of course, as we mentioned above, Darkles has a lovely tendancy to devalue compassion. She still had other examples of the power of love: without Lillyanna's compassion and heart, Zoya might as well have been married off anyway. But were talking misconceptions here, and Darkles' favorite one would have to be power > everything. He's a taker of power, he uses it, he takes what he wants. So of course compassion is nothing when it inhibits the power to be gained, like how he saw empathy as the weakness that led Zoya to save the tiger cubs. But through Juris we see Zoya learn the opposite: its her compassion that gives her her greatest strength. In a very literal way. And this contradiction to the Darkling starts the moment he enters her life and breaks exactly the thing the Darkling gave her that she values so much: her power, as he breaks her amplifiers.

Juris doesn't come into Zoya's life with a promise of safety and strength. Juris swoops in and breaks her world. He shatters her amplifier, scoffs at her understanding of Grisha power, throws her into vulnerability and upheaval when she least wants it. Because its what she needs. He wants to change her relationship with power, and still this makes her more powerful. Juris sends Zoya the caterpillar into a state of pupal goop and soup to become Zoya the avatar butterfly. I regret that sentence but I'm leaving it there. anyway.

claiming a piece of the power of creation, without giving anything of ourselves: The clearest illustration of how Juris and the Darkling differ is seen here. Again the Darkling always takes and with amplifiers thats no different: whether its the way he used Alina or just looking at the Grisha tradition he upholds of killing an animal to take its power, its all superiority, taking, domination and selfishness. Juris works in the opposite direction: merging, giving, surviving the fall, opening the door. He saw the dragon as not something to be taken or conquered but as an equal and felt a kinship with it. This so strongly echoes the like calls to like that is at the core of the Small Science. He goes beyond the act of calling into the act of merging, becoming one with that power by giving up the self. Selflessness versus selfishness. I doubt the Darkling could be capable of that merging, even if he wanted to be.

but still, you wept for the tiger. Just like Nikolai, the very compassion the Darkling devalued is the only thing that Juris finds value in. The amplifiers the Darkling so coveted are exactly what Juris scorns. And yet Juris' way is the one of greater power, ultimately. Compassion is power, that is what he wants her to know. Her love never made her weak. That is why he brings her back to her past, to the memories of her aunt that she locks away because of the vulnerability they make her feel.

She blames herself for the deaths she could not prevent, for falling for the Darkling's lies. She locks that hurt away. But he knows the capacity to feel so strongly that pain is what makes her so strong.

After all that pain, Juris does not ask her to stand up, to toughen herself, to fight. To do anything that she believed made her strong. He asks her to forgive. To forgive herself, most of all. And when Juris is dying and Zoya becomes the dragon, he echoes the theme he began to teacher her when he brought her back to her past. Stop punishing yourself for being someone with a heart. Love is strength, not weakness. To let your wounds heal is what allows you to grow.

Don't leave me. Not you too. Zoya, who spent her life building herself up, working so that she would never feel weak again. At the moment where she becomes her most powerful, she is returned to her weakest and most vulnerable. But she isnt here to fight it and conquer it. To live is to grieve. You are strong enough to survive the fall. Sometimes to let go is the most powerful thing we can do.

in essence:

At the end of the day, the Grishaverse is about the power of love. Look at the first trilogy. Alina and Mal's love is what destroys the fold. Six of Crows is not as grand, but its all about individual love saving individual people. Kaz and Inej as they learn to heal. Nina and Matthias as they break boundaries and prejudice. Wylan and Jesper and the way they teach eachother that they are worthy of love, that its unconditional, flaws and all. Zoya's arc is no different. Juris breaks her from the Darkling's lies she didnt know she was still holding on to, and teaches this girl who wanted nothing more than to be strong and to be safe, that it was this thing she had so desperately tried to tuck away that made her the strongest of all. That's it, really; thats the message of the entire Grishaverse to me:

To love is the most powerful thing we can do.

thakns for coming to my ted talk lmao

[atcharachara]

Just a colored sketch page for now, no rendering. Russian dragons. Not up to scale (don’t trust that visual on the right)

Of these, only the Russian Gray and Ironwing are named in the book (The Gray only in LoD). Both the Ironwing and Cossack dragon didn’t come with descriptions of any sort so I just winged it. Thoughts under the cut.

Russian Heavyweight - Big, green, and mean. Well, Vosyem was green, so this guy is green. Overlapping plates made me lean more on pangolin scales than thyreophoran but doing all the scales is killing me. I gave it a large nasal boss(I think thats the term?) to resemble the tapir-faced depictions of Zmei that had enraptured me since I was young.

The tortoise resemblance was not realized until after I colored everything, but theres only so many ways for long neck and humped back and thick rolls over shoulders read to me. Well, there’s the sauropod type but I prefer a more sprawling pose. I do want it a bit longer but I just like long dragons in general. Need to hold back on it. If everything is long then nothing is Long.

Russian Gray - Mostly gray and white with a narrow arrow-shaped head. They were described as stippled with spots of gray and black. I had on my notes that it was six to seven, but I lacked context on whether it was the number of individuals in the scene or its weight.

Heads being described as arrow shaped confuse me a little. Maybe my English is not good because I keep thinking it’s like… diplocaulus, which is NOT narrow. Yu-Lung, described with the same head shape, was also described to be vulpine, so that’s what I did here.

Russian Black - One of the other lightweights held in the Russian grounds along with the Russian Gray. Described as black dragons smaller than the Grays. Resembles the Russian couriers. Nothing much to say. Slavic dragons seem to be depicted with a crown every so often, so I gave it a crown of small horns.

Every time there’s a black dragon breed from Europe I keep remembering Laurence saying something about how there’s no black dragons known in Europe back when he was still a Naval captain.

Courier - Two red courier dragons were snoozing next to a flag. I’m inclined to think it’s a Russian breed, but it described the flag they were sleeping beside as white and red. Granted, I’m not really familiar with European history or flags. Maybe it’s a company flag?

Cossack - No description other than being courier weight or fly weight, the size of winchesters. Did you know that the Russian Don, cavalry horses of the Cossack, originated from Russian Steppe horses and Oriental breeds obtained from raids? I gave it a more camelid head, but didn’t want the horse inspiration to be too obvious. Not happy with the coloration just yet.

I kinda wanted it to be slightly bigger for some size variety, but it’s unlikely to be that much bigger than the other Russian lightweights. In the British (European?) weight system a flyweight is barely combat weight, isn’t it? So larger than courier weight but not that much…

Ironwing - Venomous. Thats it for textual description. Not much to go off of, so I put a lesser version of the heavyweight armor on it to help bridge the heavyweight to the others and slapped rusty iron colors. I wanted to give it some more resemblance(Is that the word?)for being an ancestor of the Longwing, so I gave it some familiar wing markings. Might add bone spurs but maybe I should keep that a sharpspitter thing.

[scatterbrainedbot]

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falls down stairs IM HERE IM HERE SORRY IM SO LATE

RAT SONS AU

in which Master Splinter is a wise and silly old tortoise, and father of four skittering, chaotic, ninja rat children. <3

(inspired by that one background moment of the 03 series! 🐢🐀🐀🐀🐀)

there will be lots of similar plot points as the 03 series (like 'tales of leo' and 'good genes' etc etc) but there are also a lot of fundamental changes in the foundation of things too — like the guardians and ninja tribunal and the hamato family line etc etc. content wise tbh its probably mostly just gonna be snapshots of random moments throughout the boys lives, but i do kinda have some plot concepts? so we'll see 👀

(embarrassingly long) introduction under the cut if u'd like to read!

——————————————

Years ago, Oroku Saki defeated Hamato Tang Shen in battle, and finally brought an end to the family that would deny him his power. He ordered her homestead be razed to the ground, and all mystic artifacts to be delivered to him. Particularly, the Hamato’s prized pet tortoise, which was rumored to be itself a conduit for the family’s legendary mystic abilities. With the creature in his possession, along with the new rapid-enhancement chemical he commissioned from laboratory familiar with mystic properties in New York — at last, he would be granted his godhood, and guarantee the legacy of his fathers clan. The Hamatos could deny him no longer. He had won.

Or he would have, had the fools at the lab not ruined everything, the precious mutagen spilling all over the tortoises crate and the fool handlers who carried it. The contaminated men morphed into horrific, animalistic monsters, attacking the scientists and wrecking the laboratory itself. And, most crucially, in the ensuing madness, the crate which contained the tortoise, his last possible connection to the Hamato’s power, lay shattered, and empty…

Meanwhile, Hamato “Splinter” Yoshi, who until this point had quite enjoyed his extended existence as a simple tortoise and family pet, found himself fleeing the eyes and hands of the man who killed his human family, and the lab that granted him this new shift in consciousness, to instead face the terrifying chaos of the streets and alleys of NYC. His transformation into something more bipedal had hurt considerably and left him aching and disoriented, but still he could not pause. He could not falter. Not until he found somewhere safe to hide himself and the four squirming, impossibly small rat-pups in his arms. He hoped the chemical that washed over them had not warped and hurt their young bones as it had his own. He hoped he could find somewhere safe to care for them. He hoped they could survive the night without their mother. He hoped, he prayed he could protect these precious, squeaking, peach-fuzzed ruminants of his family. He did not think he could survive any more loss.

For now, he would do what he could, and slip into the shadows of this city. Having lived so long among ninjas had its benefits there, at least.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Uncharismatic Fact of the Day

What's for breakfast? A pancake tortoise! This species is named for its unusual shell, which is indeed as flat as a pancake. Even more interesting is the fact that, while most other turtles have fairly thick, rigid shells, the pancake tortoise's shell is exceptionally thin, and the underlying bone has openings which allows the shell to be quite light and flexible.

(Image: A researcher holding a pancake tortoise (Malacochersus tornieri) by the Lewa Research Department)

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a kofi!

[chanshoesunite]

Chan on the Beach

Content Info: Chan and Y/N meet on a beach in Australia at Christmas and have some fun. This is an edit of Hare's bday fic for Tortoise. No beta we die like Y/N's resistance against lifeguard Chan.

Word count: around 6K

Warnings: semi-public sex, dirty talk

„Aaaah, this is the life!”

You reach over to grab your Virgin Lavender Mojito off the little table next to your lounger. Taking a sip through your plastic-free straw, you let your gaze, well-protected behind your heart-shaped shades, wander across the bay. From your position high up next to the rooftop pool of the renowned “Park Hyatt Sydney”, you can see the world-famous opera house.

“I know, right?” Your best friend Hare is next to you, holding a flashy pink cocktail. “Bless this job!”

As a pilot, Hare is allowed to bring someone along whenever she needs to fly over one of the major holidays, and since it’s Christmas in Austria right now and you’ll only fly back on the 28th, she chose her best friend to keep her company in her five-star hotel. There really are worse fates.

You stand to let your gaze properly explore the vicinity. “Do you fancy going to the beach?” you ask, spying the almost glisteningly white sand in the distance.

Hare raises an eyebrow at you, which you only realise because now it appears behind her sunglasses. “And getting eaten by a shark? Is this your idea of a good time?”

You giggle. “Oh, come on, there are safety nets. And anyway, I was thinking we could do one of those fun videos where you throw sand and I twirl in it? You know, for the Gram?”

Hare looks like she has half a mind to protest, might find this not worth the hassle, but then her smile softens. “Sure,” she says. “Let me check with the hotel staff to find the best beach access for us.”

…

An hour later, you are in your gloriously colourful bikini, twirling barefoot in the sand even though it’s too hot for comfort – not that you would give that away and ruin your Instagram reel, though. Hare is holding your phone, trying to get the perfect angle to have the sun glistening in a golden hour-way on the water.

“And now the sand,” you prompt. “You kinda just let it fly in the breeze, so it looks nice behind me.”

Hare looks dubious for a second. “What if I mess up and hit someone else?” You wave it off. “There’s nobody around!”

It’s true enough – it’s around dinner time, and your stretch of the beach is, possibly due to the holiday, rather empty. Hare nods. “Okay, sure.” She bends down to grab some of the white sand and repositions herself to throw it into the air. You twirl, and from the way Hare’s lips widen into a grin, you can tell it’s a great shot. You can already imagine how amazing you’ll look and how many likes you’ll get, maybe you should cross-post it on TikTok and-

“Oi!”

Both of you turn to see someone standing there. And what a someone. Well, two someones, actually, but your eyes are glued to Someone Number One. He isn’t exactly tall, but well built, his black swimming shorts showing off his narrow hips and creating a marvellous contrast to his thoroughly-trained upper body. He has a sharp jawline that you would like him to use to cut you into chips, a big nose, well-formed cheek bones and beautiful eyes that are, admittedly, currently glaring at you. “What’s that all about?”

One glance at his wet upper body, which is now covered in sand, tells the entirety of what happened – that he is the unwilling participator in an Instagram challenge gone just a little wrong.

Hare gets her bearings faster, but from the way she eyes the taller, lithe man next to the buff grumpy guy, you assume that in order to get into her head, you would have to pass an 18+ ID check. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there and meant absolutely no harm!” She extends one of their towels to the taller guy who looks a little like a Korean forest fairy. “Here, please.”

The guy accepts the towel from her, cleaning his (for his build) substantial abs. You tear your gaze away and meet the buff dude’s eyes, who sarcastically pulls up one eyebrow. For a second, you don’t know what to do.

“Oh!” You realise he’s expecting you to also offer him a towel, so you do. At the way you briefly flounder around, your nemesis’ face softens, and a little smile plays on his face. It’s a good look on him, you decide. “Cheers”, he thanks you, cleaning himself up. “What were you even doing there, throwing sand?” he asks, somewhat curious and content now that the sand isn’t on his pecs but your expensive hotel towel. His voice is still a little gruff, a little dark, a little deep, his Australian accent making it all the more delicious.

Hare, the ever-trusting girl that she is, extends her phone to him. “I was filming a slow-mo reel. It looks absolutely gorgeous if you ask me. Sorry again, but it was kind of worth hitting you with sand for it.”

The two men watch the reel and you can feel your face heating up. You haven’t even seen it yourself yet, and now those two handsome dudes get to do so before you?! You should be mad at Hare, but from the way buff guy’s face softens watching it, you really, really can’t.

Handing her phone back to Hare, the guy looks at you. “You’re beautiful in this,” he says, a little sparkle in his dark eyes. “If I can follow you on Instagram, you’re forgiven.”

Ummmmmm. That’s a statement you haven’t anticipated. You gulp a bit. “Okay,” you agree, and accept the phone back from Hare to open the app for him. Your hand brushes his as you hand it over, and the back of your neck prickles. At the touch, his eyes find yours, and he smirks just the tiniest bit before focusing on the device to type in his Instagram handle. You feel a little lost for words, so you look over at Hare, who confidently winks at you. “Maybe we can buy you two a drink in order to make up for the, er, Sand Incident?”

The other boy chuckles. You take a moment to look at him more carefully and appreciate his fine features, his longer hair tied back in a ponytail. He is beautiful, no doubt about it, but you prefer his shorter friend. “That’s a lovely offer, but we’re actually headed to a party later.” Ponytail glances at the Short King. “But actually…?”

The Short King has finished typing his name. “Yeah, how about you come along?” he finishes the sentence. “I’m Chan,” he adds as he hands back the phone, “but lots of people call me Chris.” Chan nods at the phone and you glance at the handle. “Chanstopher97”. Oh, he’s younger, too. Hot. You accept his following request.

“And I’m Hyunjin.” The other boy smiles at Hare in a way that shows you he seems just as taken with your friend as her body language suggests she is with him. Nice.

“I’m Y/N,” you take charge of the conversation now, and there is a laugh dancing in Chan’s eyes. “And that’s Hare. And about our evening plans…” You look over at Hare, hoping to telepathically communicate that you’re not ready to make this impromptu decision without talking it through with her first.

Hare smiles. “We have dinner plans, but why don’t you text Y/N the address and we’ll see if we can meet you there?” You two share a look and you feel seen and comforted. Hare is keeping your options open but not consenting or refusing in your name.

There is slight disappointment in the two men’s faces, but that’s their issue. “All right,” Chan agrees, running a hand through his darkly wet hair and you are mesmerised by the way the muscles flex on his arms. “I’ll text you in a bit.” He smiles at you. “I really hope to see you there. It’s at the beach, but it does get cool at night, so make sure to bring a hoodie.” He pauses strategically. “Or you can always wear mine.”

You bite your lip to suppress a giddy grin, and his eyes follow the movement. There is an almost hungry quality in his gaze before it flickers back up to again. “See you later.” The confidence he lays into these three words is astounding but very attractive.

Hyunjin smiles sweetly at Hare, which she reciprocates, and then the two men make their way up the beach, in such a manner that the two of you can appreciate their backsides. When they turn around, you feel caught, and the slight blush on Hare’s face betrays the fact that she is experiencing the same emotion. As if in unspoken agreement, you both turn around and sink down in the sand, onto your respective towels that are already dirty anyway.

You are quiet for a moment. Then- “Well, damn,” Hare says.

“Damn,” you agree.

“He’s really hot.”

“I know. Mine too.”

“There’s one for each of us.”

“Yeah.”

Hare glances over at you. “How do you feel about a beach party on Christmas Day in Australia?”

You watch the setting sun glittering on the waves. How do you feel about this? On the one hand, many strangers in one place, mixed with alcohol, are never on top of your list when it comes to a desired evening programme. On the other hand, the party doesn’t have to be where they stay, does it? And Chan, Chris… He is really something. If he were lavender lemonade, you’d sip him. Hehe. Also, as a pilot, Hare has to stay sober, so there will be at least one reasonable person around – or, knowing your besty, at least a sober one.

“I think,” you say slowly. “Theoretically, if we didn’t like it, we could go home at any time. And we can share our location in case we lose each other.”

A slow smile spreads across Hare’s face, reminding you of a cartoon cat who has spotted an especially delicious baby bird. “All right,” your besty agrees. “Let’s party tonight.”

…

Chan texts the details within ten minutes of meeting you and you try not to let it get to your head. Hare and you enjoy an outstanding dinner on the hotel’s rooftop terrace, a Christmas present from the airline, and don’t let the prospect of two hot Korean men on a beach force you to hurry through the five delicious courses. Afterwards, you throw on bikinis, shorts, cute tops and pack long-sleeved items as well, just to be on the safe side. With on-fleek eyeliner and beautiful lipstick, you must surely be the hottest besty duo that has ever walked the hallways of this grand hotel, or so you think on their way downstairs to catch your Uber.

The party location seems to be a dive bar, and as you approach the hut, you are relieved to see that while there is a crowd gathered, it is not overwhelming. The last rays of sunlight are winking over the horizon as the two of you enter the bar.

The interior design is a little bit clichéd in its maritime theme, but since this is your first authentic dive bar experience, you don’t mind. You glance at the nets, the taxidermied swordfish, the life belts, take in the Jack Johnson song playing, and decide you like it. The bar is situated in the middle of the wooden building, an “o” marking the centre of the spot. And right there, behind the counter, drawing a beer, is-

“Is that Chan?” Hare asks the exact moment you realise that your crush is actually working here. Your gaze falls onto Hyunjin next to him, wiping glasses, and the women waiting to catch their attention in front of the bar. “Well,” you conclude. “It seems we’re here for the most popular boys. Damn.”

Hare grabs your hand. “That won’t stop us,” she disagrees. “After all, we are the hottest here.”

She pulls you towards the bar, and it is almost eerie how fast Chan’s head snaps up to meet your eyes. His slowly crinkle as he begins to smile. “You came!” he calls over the music and the waiting people, and some of them actually make space for Hare and you. “We came,” you confirm, propping your elbows up on the bar. “And you came to work, by the looks of it?”

Chan seems sheepish for a moment, but quickly shakes it off. “We are only doing the first shift,” he explains, “and then we’ll be all yours.” He gestures around the room. “You can check out the place or the beach if you’d like. Or hang out with us back here?” He has one hand on the door that swings inward and allows for entrance into the centre of the bar.

Hare glances at Hyunjin. “If we hang out back here, will you make us a kickass alcohol-free cocktail?”

Hyunjin smiles – he really looks good in his loose Celine racerback; you have to admit that. “My pleasure,” he says in a voice that is deeper than you remember.

Hare turns to you. “Beach or bar?” she asks.

You barely hesitate. “Bar.”

…

If someone had asked you a few months ago if spending Christmas day behind a bar sounded like fun, you probably would have refused to even consider the possibility. But this – sitting on chairs with Hare, sipping the amazingly lavender-flavoured cocktail Hyunjin created for you, watching the men work, throwing dish towels or napkins at them in jest – this is a perfectly lovely evening. There isn’t much time to chat, but just by looking at them interact with each other, their customers and their work, you get a better idea of their characters.

Chan seems to be caring, friendly, supportive, flirty, Hyunjin appears to be sweet, sassy and a little on the dramatic side. Both of them react well to the sarcastic comments Hare sometimes throws their way, teasing her back and each other. It is obvious that they are firm friends and likely have been for a long time.

“Hey, Hyunjin, your mojito game is actually pretty weak,” Hare exclaims, hopping off her barstool and joining the taller Korean man at the bar, elbowing him gently. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Hyunjin’s gaze at her is challenging, but he hands her the bottle. “I am ready to be impressed.”

Someone snorts next to you, and you glance up to find Chan very close to you, also watching the two of them. “Hyunjin’s flirting technique need work,” he says, chuckling softly but not unkindly.

You arch an eyebrow at him. “And yours doesn’t?”

Chan turns to you, and with you propped up on your high bar chair, the two of you are eye to eye. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice suddenly just a tiny bit rough, his eyes intense. You feel yourself blushing but don’t look away. “I am,” you agree.

He shrugs. “Then I don’t think it does.” Chan winks at you and returns to the considerable queue in front of the bar, slapping Hyunjin on the shoulder in the process. “Stop flirting!” he barks, and from the way his friend blushes and Hare starts giggling, you can tell that you are not the only one behind this bar who is experiencing chemistry between herself and a man she met at the beach mere hours ago.

The first shift passes quickly, and as the bar fills up, you love seeing Chan get just a little bit hot, his dark t-shirt, tight to begin with, sticking to him in all the right places.

Finally, when a few of their friends come to take over, Chan throws the dish towel he has been holding down onto the bar and turns to you. “Finished!”, he exclaims happily, an almost childlike joy at having completed his task on his face. He extends his hand to you, offering you help in jumping off the chair. You take his hand, and it’s just a little rough. Does he surf? Play the guitar? You intend to find out. Relishing the moment, you wait just a tiny bit before jumping off, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re firmly on your feet, either. You look up at him and there is something in his eyes. A dare to let go? Dream on, pretty boy, you think. I dare if you dare.

Hyunjin hands Hare two glasses – two more of the delicious mocktails, you are happy to see – and grabs two bottles of beer. “Shall we?”

The four of you leave the bar area and then the building behind, and you are thankful to be holding Chan’s hand so as to not lose him in the throng of people that seems to have been growing steadily throughout the past hour. Soon, your sandals hit the sand. There are beanbags on the beach, and miraculously, not all of them are occupied yet, possibly because the night air is just a little bit chilly already. Now you have to let go of Chan’s hand and follow the impulse to run across the now cool sand and throw yourself into an extra-large beanbag, giggling happily. Chan is not far behind, though, approaching you at a languid pace, two drinks in his hands which he has seemingly picked up from Hare and Hyunjin, watching you with a smile. When he is finally standing over you, you glancing up at him, his bravado seems somewhat diminished. “May I join you?” he asks, and when you wiggle just a little bit to the side and pat the newly gained space next to you, his smile widens again. He lets himself sink down next to you and you are overwhelmed by how much you like the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat and ocean breeze. Delicious.

It takes some arranging, but the two of you are finally comfortable side by side, your drinks secured in the sand, Chan crossing his arms behind his head and gazing up into the night sky. You can hear Hare giggle behind you as, by the sound of it, Hyunjin falls off a beanbag.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you still decide to break it – after all, you want to get to know this delectable specimen better. “So, is this what Christmas usually looks like for you?” you ask.

Chan glances over at you and holds your gaze. Man, you really want to sink into those eyes. “The party’s a tradition,” he explains. “We always host it.”

“We?” You sit up a tiny bit, edging just a little bit closer, and from the way his body shifts towards you, you can feel that he welcomes the change. Your bare leg brushes against his and the skin-on-skin contact makes you antsy, but in a good way. This is exciting – the two of you both know where this will lead, but the timeline is yet unknown, ready to be discovered.

Chan nods. “The lifeguards. Hyunjin and I both work at this beach.”

You process the info quickly and file it away under the category “hot”. “That’s extremely cool,” is what you say, though. “Very responsible.”

The man seems to be blushing a bit and you love how his cool behaviour falls away when he’s being himself. It’s endearing. “I am a huge ocean enthusiast. I am actually currently writing my dissertation on various measures that could be taken to effectively clean the ocean, you know, to remove all of the microplastic. I’m trying to create a filter that can be produced cheaply and applied across all water temperatures.”

Your mouth actually hangs wide open at this. “So, you’re hot AND super smart?!” you blurt out. “That hardly seems fair!”

Chan smirks at this, but there is no denying that he is flattered and cajoled. “And you haven’t even seen me bench press yet,” he jokes.

You laugh. “I’d love to, though,” you say, more serious than you mean to be.

He grins widely. “Well, if you’ll have any more of those cocktails, maybe I’ll have to carry you back later.”

It’s a joke, you both know it, but you notice the exact moment where you both think about him picking you up and maybe pinning you up against a wall. The mood shifts for a moment, it feels less playful and more explicit. The silence is heavy, almost alive with an electric current.

Chan clears his throat. “You haven’t told me yet what a beautiful publicist from overseas is doing in Australia at Christmas.”

Thankful for the distraction, you tell him about the trip, about your job, and as you sip your respective drinks, you establish a shared love for TV shows, bubble tea, colourful hair, non-spicy foods. If this were a first date, it would be absolutely amazing, but sadly, this can’t be a first date, because in less than seventy-two hours, you will be on your way back, and you are severely jetlagged, having arrived only today, and this will merely be a three-day-thing, if at all. You try not to be sad about this, but it’s hard.

Chan seems to sense your distress. “Is everything all right?” he queries, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile. “Yeah. I was just thinking that I’d love to not leave in three days.” This feels like way too big a confession for this casual hook-up, but somehow, simultaneously, it also feels just right.

He seems to contemplate this, then takes your hand. “Want me to show you my lifeguard hut? You can see pretty far from up there.” It’s a distraction, but it’s working, so you nod and smile at him. Chan pulls you to your feet and just as you turn to tell Hare where you're intending to go, you can see her sitting in Hyunjin’s lap, making out with him. Shrugging, you turn back to Chan – after all, you can both access each other’s locations on your phones and Hare knows how to handle a dude. “You know,” you say boldly, “This could be us.”

Chan pulls you after him, towards the lifeguard station. “Oh, don’t worry,” he says with casualness that makes you shiver in anticipation, “it will be.”

…

Chan’s workspace is actually more elaborate than you anticipated. It’s a little hut on a raised platform so he can seek shelter from the sun while watching the ocean. The bottom of the steps is sealed for the night with a chain-link fence so unauthorized or drunk people won’t be tempted to climb up, but Chan produces a key from a chain around his neck and unlocks it so you can access the platform. You go first, but he keeps his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and you have to admit you like it.

Upon arriving at the top, you are greeted by a few solar lanterns glowing in the dark, illuminating your surroundings. You are maybe four metres up above the ground, but everything – the party goers down the beach, the music, the noise – seems miles away. The only thing you can feel is the wind and Chan’s warm hand against your side, and then there is the glorious sound of the sea. The lanterns also reveal that the chair Chan must usually spend his days in is folded up against the railing, replaced by a picknick blanket and a few throw-pillows. You turn to meet his eyes, into this half-embrace he has going on, and his hand finds your lower back again, pressing you softly to his firm chest. “Did you prepare this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Chan does have the decency to blush. “I was hoping our night would go this way, I must admit.”

Briefly, the thought that Chan must do this all the time, that this must be his move, makes an appearance, but you actually don’t really care to slut-shame the man. Good for him, he is hot and sweet AND smart, you hope that he has lots of amazing sex, but tonight, preferably with you.

You take it all in – the waves crashing against the sand, the darkness softened by the glow of the lanterns, Chan’s huge hand splayed across your lower back, his scent, his face just inches from yours. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

Chan briefly closes his eyes before opening them. There is a tiny smile on his lips. “Please,” he whispers. And so, you slowly, anticipation rising in your gut, close the distance and softly place your lips against his. Your first thought is how soft they are as you slowly move, placing your hands against his chest, then sliding them upwards, holding his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Chan tastes of beer and chewing gum, but you don’t mind, you don’t have the capacity to think as his tongue touches yours and suddenly, this isn’t slow anymore, this is heat and lust and want and need. Chan’s hands are still at your lower waist, but from the way he is pressing you against him, you can tell that he wants to touch you, he is just too chivalrous to give in to his passion. You grab hold of one of his hands and place it very deliberately against your bum cheek as you pull his lower lip between your teeth and bite. Chan groans into your mouth, his left hand joining his right on your ass, and then he is lifting you up, pressing you against the railing, thoroughly devouring your mouth all the while.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and one of his hands slides down to touch your bare thigh while he breaks the kiss, pressing his lips to your throat, nibbling, licking, sucking. A moan escapes you, and you can feel him hardening in his pants. Without waiting for him to do it, you pull your shirt off so you’re just in your bikini top, and Chan immediately shifts your weight onto the railing and his left arm so he can slide his hand under the fabric and play with your nipples. At the first slight touch, you are already whining, arching into the touch, and Chan’s chuckle is half mean, half adoring as he watches you respond to him. With your bikini top askew, you feel that the clothing ratio between the two of you is a little unfair, so you pull at his shirt, and he actually stops teasing you for long enough so you can get it off of him. Unfortunately, you don’t have long to admire his physique, because as soon as the offending garment is discarded onto the floor, Chan leans forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips, and your moan is much throatier this time, needier, and you can feel Chan shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he breathes against your chest, making you shudder as the air hits your wet nipple.

“I want you, too,” you admit, stroking your hand across his pecs and earning another groan. “Can you take me like this? Up against the railing?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. “You want me to rail you against the railing?”

You groan at the dad joke, but, for once, not in pleasure. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yup. And speaking of right into…” He slides one hand into your shorts, going straight for your pussy and parting your lower lips with his forefinger so that any protest you had against his stupid pun dies on your lips. “Fuck, you are so wet,” he sighs. “I’d love to stretch you out with my cock.”

You cock your head to the side. “So why don’t you, then?”

At that dare, Chan crashes his lips to yours and your tongues dance wildly together as he slowly strokes your clit with his fingers, making you gasp into the kiss, before abruptly breaking away. “Fuck, let me just grab a condom real quick,” he says as he puts you down gently, placing an almost sweet kiss against your lips before approaching a bag that you didn’t notice earlier. You quickly discard your shorts and bikini bottoms; now only in your bikini top, you lean against the railing and watch the shoulders in Chan’s back work deliciously as he bends over, searches his bag and finally grabs a foil package before slipping it into the pockets of his shorts. Then he joins you again, scooping you up in his strong arms. You seize the opportunity to hold onto them and stroke them as he lifts you again and captures your lips in another scorching kiss. Your wet core presses against his naked lower abs, and Chan moans at the feeling. He lowers you just a little bit, grinding his still-clothed cock against your aching pussy as he presses kisses to your throat, your cleavage, any spot of bare skin he can reach.

“Please, Chan!” You might be begging at this point, but who cares, actually, he feels big and you want to see and especially feel if that’s the case. “I needed you inside of me like five minutes ago!” He stills, breathing heavily against your skin. “Fuck, okay,” he finally rasps after a moment of silence. “Hold on.”

You put your legs onto the railing, propping yourself up while Chan sheds his shorts and underwear, but not before grabbing the condom from his pocket. You watch as he tears open the package and rolls it over his indeed fairly large cock – it almost makes your mouth water and you promise yourself that before the night is over, it will literally make your mouth water.

Having finished his preparations, Chan steps back into the space between your legs, and you pull him closer. Your kiss is slower, more deliberate as he strokes his tongue against yours, tempting you, seducing you. And then his hard cock is pressed against you, and you shift, allowing him to press into you. Slowly, you feel yourself being filled, stretched by his girth, and you moan loudly as centimetre after centimetre disappears into your tight pussy. Unconsciously, you try to shift away from the intrusion, but Chan’s hands on your hips hold you steady, so you can do nothing but give in and take it. Chan’s tongue is back on your nipple, distracting you from the stretch by stimulating you sweetly, and the way he groans against your skin, muttering how amazing you feel, how tight your little pussy is, how good you are being for him, turns you on even further so that you use your heels to pull him closer, pull him in more quickly.

Finally, when he’s fully inside of you, he comes back up to kiss you, the movement causing him to shift inside you, making you both gasp. You are completely naked, completely out in the open, you realise, and still, this moment is intimate, like you are the only two people left in the world. It’s uncomfortable, rushed, risky – and somehow still perfect.

Chan is visibly trembling with the effort of holding still. “Can I move?” he asks, his voice hoarse against your neck as he kisses you softly, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

You cups his cheek so he’ll meet your eyes. When he does, you say, “Fuck me.”

His pupils dilate, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice before he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Before you can recover, he does it again, setting a relentless rhythm, and you are caged between his body and the railing, his thrusts an assault to your very being, but in the best way possible. His body is blazing in the cool night air, keeping you warm as he worships your body, stroking you, kissing you, licking you, fucking you. And even though your weight must take its toll on him, he doesn’t show it, doesn’t let up, pushing into you again and again, filling you, taking you. You are both trying to keep it down, so your heavy breathing can be covered by the sound of the waves, but you would not bet on it working.

He bites your shoulder, suppressing a groan. “I won’t last long, baby, you feel too good. But don’t worry, I’ll make you come as many times as you want tonight. I’ll eat your sweet pussy until you beg me to stop.” You moan, nodding, as he once again sucks a nipple into his mouth. “That’s fair,” you breathe, and Chan chuckles as he seems to again redouble his efforts, railing you against the railing as his breaths become groans rising in pitch until he bites down on your shoulder once more, stilling inside of you.

The two of you stay locked in your embrace for a moment longer, your breaths calming, before Chan tenderly kisses you as he pulls out. Scooping you up into his arms, he lays you down on the blanket and finally removes your bikini top. Drinking in your naked form in the better light provided by the lanterns, Chan strokes his hands up your sides. “There is just something about you that makes it utterly impossible for me to keep my hands to myself,” he says almost wistfully, and then he is between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs, nuzzling into them, licking his way up to where you need him. Finally, his tongue is on your clit, and he slides two fingers inside of you, and despite the fact that you are deliciously sore from the thorough way he has just fucked you, this is exactly what you need. His tongue writes letters against your clit, every movement unexpected and all the more exciting for it, and the steady rhythm of him finger-fucking you pushes you closer and closer to the edge. God, he looks so good on his knees for you. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, and the way he groans into your pussy makes you bite back a moan as well, biting your hand to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Your orgasm crashes over you like the waves below you, unrelenting and unavoidable, and you remove your hand, letting Chan hear your high-pitched moans.

Chan stills his hand to feel the contractions around his fingers, but continues to kitten-lick your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you still, shaking from the stimulation. Only then does he press a handful of kisses to your lower belly and move to join you on the blanket properly, propped up on his side on one elbow, pulling you close and pecking your cheek repeatedly until you turn to slowly, lazily, kiss him. His hand strokes your side again. “That was… Pretty fucking great,” he reminisces, and you can’t help but giggle at the verdict.

“It was,” you agree, dragging your nails up Chan’s veiny forearm, making him shiver. For a moment, the sound of the waves is the only thing you hear. “And you’re here for three more days?” Chan asks, a serious note in his playful tone.

You continue to feel his muscular arms as you nod. “That’s right. Why?”

Chan shrugs – awkwardly, given his current position. “Oh, nothing,” he dismisses the question. “I was just contemplating how often I can fuck you in three days.”

A slow grin spreads across your face. “I’d wager that a low to medium double-digit number could be achieved, don’t you agree?”

Chan’s face mirrors your expression. “Do you want to make a bet?” You shrug. “I’d rather suck your cock.” His expression is a mixture of shyness and surprise before it takes on a devilish note. “Well, in that case,” he says, his hand sliding to cup your arse, "be my guest."