#*explodes with you*

[rhodophoria]

I LOVE ALL YOUR WORK AHHHHH *explodes all over the place*

Anyways, this one really caught my interest! I Am The Undertow - it just sounds so good idk why??? Maybe it's my preference for mythical type fics, but the blurp you left tickles me hehhe. Are you willing to share some more ideas about it? THANKS, LOVE YOU (no pressure)

ah IATU, my beloved mad science project /lhj

i'm always willing to share my siren brain worms. it is mer-may after all ♪(´▽｀)

previous posts here, but the short summary is a siren fic in my own little au setting i'm building from scratch. featuring nightmare and his crew, along with some other familiar additions ☀👀

“You’re a tempestarii.” The captain’s words are blunt and straight to the point. You shrink a bit at the accusatory tone, but nod your head. He grunts. Spits on the wooden planks just shy of your boots. “Should have known.”

Nothing about this storm is natural.

Your magic is struggling, sputtering weakly like a candle in the wind. You know storms; have studied the weather that rolls off the Panthalassa all your life—and you've never heard of anything like this.

Rain pelts your skin, falling so hard it leaves stinging welts behind. You can barely see, barely breathe against the deluge of water as you clutch your guide rope for dear life. Your mind rebels against its own suspicions; tries to explain away what your soul already knows. There's an aftertaste of magic on the air. The unfamiliar spark of a power that is not your own. You're forced to face the unthinkable truth:

The hurricane that appeared out of nowhere—the one that now threatens to capsize the ship—was conjured by someone.

Whoever it is, they're unimaginably powerful. It feels as though you're struggling against a giant; brushing up against the mind of something you can barely even comprehend.

You're suffering from the final stages of magical exhaustion. Your efforts to keep the ship afloat have drained the last of your reserves. Too much longer and you'll use up the very essence of your being. Your vision darkens, blurring at the edges as you struggle to stay conscious. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of that deep, dark abyss. All you want is just a second to rest. The chance to let go and sleep.

Not much longer now.

The voice in your mind jerks you awake, centering your awareness on the pitch-black void that surrounds you. Gone is the wind, the rolling waves and the groaning of a ship about to break apart.

A single, great eye watches you from beyond the dark.

Give in.

Those words induce the opposite of their intended effect. Something deep in your belly churns with rage. What did you or your crewmates ever do to deserve this fate? Death and destruction doled out by a faceless being who sees you as nothing more than a temporary amusement.

Despite the fatigue leeching the color from the tips of your fingers, the pounding of your heart and your terror… you reach deep within yourself, to the depths of your soul. You gather up your most volatile emotions—all of your confusion, your hurt and your fury. You wreathe those feelings in the crackling lightning of your magic, and you hurl it right into that massive, slit pupil, screaming out at the effort.

A final defiance that takes everything you have.

The soaked wood of the ship is beneath your boots once more. You hear the howling wind stutter and break off in a puff of air, like something was exhaling gently on your face. You sway on your feet, head swimming against the drain of the void that has opened in your chest. The world tilts. You’re fainting, you realize distantly.

It's a small blessing that you can't feel it when your cheek impacts with the deck. That you never see the streaks of black that look an awful lot like tentacles sliding slowly over the ship's rail.

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[cronchy-baguette]

one of my favorite original girls

[morimhe]

idk my dragon is with me .

[ochablooms]

life series doodles from this month !!

[slightlyartist]

Tate deserves to punch Ford so I drew it, felt really therapeutic <3

[donothello]

click for better quality/enlarged images!

and they'll be together forever! :]

foreshadowing

[machveil]

Roommate!Simon Riley that kisses you. no, not on the lips, but nearly everywhere else. some days it’s small, walking up behind you in the kitchen and resting his hands on your hips - not fully, just ghosting his palms over you like you might shatter if he fully held you. he does it when it’s early, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he dips down, lips pressing to the nape of your neck. he mumbles a ‘good mornin’’, mutters something about what you’re making and how he wants some

Roommate!Simon Riley who kisses the crown of your head when you’re cuddled on the couch together. from dawn to dusk, if you’re cozied up with Simon his lips are stuck to you. nose nudging your hair, he’s not really paying attention to what’s on - Simon’s more focused on breathing you in, eyes closed and appreciating the scent of your shampoo. his lips drift, head tilting to kiss behind your ear when you comment on your show, “Mm, tha’ right?”, he murmurs, gravely voice whispering to you

Roommate!Simon Riley who kisses you from your knees to your ankles. a shit day, after you’ve come in through the front door Simon is leading you to bed. you can’t put up a fight when he makes you lay down, sitting on the edge of your bed. you can’t argue when he drapes your legs over his lap, mumbling something about your boss being a prick. all you can do is close your eyes and relax when he rubs at your legs, massaging the meat of your thighs and calf, working his way to your feet. you don’t say a word when lifts your leg up slightly, peppering featherlight kisses down it, “Should let me ‘ave a word with ‘em.”, he mumbles, smiling when you chuckle

Roommate!Simon Riley that all but tackles you to the floor when he comes home from a deployment. he’s roughed up, aching and sore, a mess of a man - but he’s alive. he moves on autopilot, strong arms pulling you against his frame, a bear hug, a death squeeze, his embrace secure. before you can ask him if he’s okay, if he’s hurt, his lips are pressed to your forehead. chapped and dry, but Simon’s. his chest rising and falling into a steady rhythm knowing you’re safe and sound. he’s moving on autopilot when he slumps down, lips pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek, “Missed you, sweet’art.”

[moyodescry]

last wip posting before i finish up shadow milk cookie zzzz

motion: Colorful Palette, anonRipper choreography: Colorful Palette i guess? song: 香椎モイミ様

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[egophiliac]

hear me out

silver vanrouge ❌️

silver draconia ✔️

malleus beats lilia to the punch

[chloesimaginationthings]

Yarnaby's story in poppy playtime is tragic,,

[kenchann]

you shouldnt have gone too far 🦈🐬

[balaniese]

the real reason why they didn't use this design is because TWO nerds with terrible clothing combos would've been too much

[prodigal-sunlight]

I know the popular theory is that Caine’s line about struggling to keep track of who’s real and who’s an NPC is foreshadowing that one of the cast is secretly an NPC

But consider the alternative

[misterradio]

🍪🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜

my coogie