I was mostly having trouble with drawing these because it’s Ha R d t O.  dRa w w He N yoUr ha nd.  Is shaking frOm hYSTerical l.  aughtEr WHEEEEeEeEEEeEzE-



Mykinesbygd, Faroe Islands


16th Roswell Anniversary Rewatch → Disturbing Behavior

Somebody kidnaps a girl and buries her in the ground so a bunch of alien parasites can… I mean, can do what to her we don’t know, and… and then how does he know about these parasites? Is he human, or is he alien? Are these things dangerous to normal people in Roswell?


Là serrer l’envie
Sans poids la mesure
Noire et blanche
La vie progresse
Hors été rivage chaud
Une trace le paysage
C’est tout à coup d’un cœur
Battre l’effet mer et nager
Jusqu’à l’impossible borne
Demain matin la griffe à main
Aura raison de nos passages
Cette nuit je m’adhère volontiers
A des plantes vertes carnivores

© cyril berthault-jacquier // mots et image //

// NB // I reblog your art // h e r e //

hm in terms of other pokemon i’ve named, i have a magikarp named carson (after a homeschool friend who i first learned about pokemon from), a spearow named darlene, and a staryu named eleazar.

besides that i have some magikarp, pidgeys, and a slowpoke who i have not named yet

Salt Gift

This #microfiction is for all the krakens, mer-people, kelpies, selkies and water witches in my life. Of which I hear there are quite a few…

For as long as Annabelle could remember, she had spoken with the sea.

Not that it spoke back, not in words at least, but she had learned to read its ebbs and its flows. She could trace its currents like a skeleton and taste its moods in the salt air. She had felt its temper break upon her body and wrestled with its storm through a hundred rudders.

That evening, it was maudlin, as a steady rain poured a hundred times a hundred pin pricks down upon its surface. She closed her eyes and listened to the percussion of the raindrops on the skin of the water and the skin of herself. She imagined it was one skin and that the rain drummed out their conversation.

“I shouldn’t be scared.” She whispered. “I know you. I know you better than I know myself, better than I know the tide of blood in my veins. No lover will ever know the contours or keel of me the way you do. I was shaped by the beat of your waves.”

The rain ran in rivulets down her and she shivered as it played across the small of her back.

“I shouldn’t be scared to be given to you.” For everyone on that island was given to the sea on their 16th birthday and today Annabelle was 15 years and 364 days old. “If you were going to give anyone back, it should be me…”

The sea always did give them back one way or another. Though sometimes it was years or even decades before they washed up lifeless on the beach. And some came back afraid to ever touch salt water again…

Annabelle sighed.

“Well, I suppose if you do keep me for your own, it shall be nice to rest with one that I love.”

The next morning, Annabelle’s mothers woke her with a breakfast of fresh sardines and oysters. They wet her face with kisses and salt water as they walked her out to the Long Pier.

As she walked the pier, she passed all the people of her island, who had come out to honour her Gift Day. Each one tied a small pebble to her with seaweed twine as she went by. They were picked out especially and carved with tiny runes for luck. By the time she reached the end of the pier, she was quite heavy.

Her mothers kissed her again as they laid her gently in the sea on a raft of palm leaves.

They stood on the pier and watched as she floated out to sea. Soon they were just a dot swallowed by sea mists.

Before long, it began to rain again.

It occurred to Annabelle that she was never quite so peaceful as when the water held her and the rain played across their skins as if they were one.

Then the palm raft began to drift apart, for it had not been made to last. She began to paddle gently, keeping herself afloat against the pull of the beach pebbles that dragged her down.

She stayed calm.

This was peace.

This was bliss.

She began paddling harder.

Finally, her limbs aching, her lungs burning, her mind screaming in both terror and ecstacy, she gave herself to the waves.

But she did not sink.

Beneath her, she felt something strong and long and slippery holding her up.

She looked down to find herself caught in an embrace of tentacles.

The water began to roil and bubble and a great beast began to rise out of the sea.

Its skin was the colour of olives and slate. It had eight impossibly long limbs that stretched out around it and her. And, on its back, larger than ten houses, was a huge ship made of wrecked, barnacle-encrusted ships and sharp, bright coral. Its crew seemed human, except for the squid-like beaks where their mouths should have been.

As she gawped at it in wonder, it began to dive back beneath the waves, pulling her with it. She gasped a great gulp of air and as she did so, she found a small squid swimming into her mouth and wrapping its limbs around her face. She tried to scream … and found she could breath, the creature on her face providing her with oxygen.

It was then that she heard it. A great vibration through the water that soared in her ears. And it said:

“Welcome Annabelle. Welcome My Shipwrecked Child. Know That I Know You. For Each Time You Spoke With The Sea, You Spoke To Me.”

Had you been present, you would not have noticed one more drop of salt water added to an ocean. But, nevertheless, Annabelle offered a single tear to it.

“Know That I Love You. When The Sea Swallows You, I Shall Always Catch You. For You Have Been Given To Me And In Return I Would Give You The World.”

At this, a rope ladder was let down from the side of the ship on its back.

“So You Must Make A Choice. Will You Join My Crew As These Others Of Your Island Did?”

Sure enough, Annabelle began to recognise the crew as other children from her island, their faces obscured by the beaked creatures that gave them air.

“If So, Know Your Life Shall Be Glorious For We Shall Plunder The Treasure Of Both The Land And The Deep And Your Short Life Will Be One Of Violent Joy.”

The beast began to lift her up to the ocean’s surface once more.

“Or I Can Return You Home And You Will Live Always Salt-Kissed By My Blessing.”

Annabelle looked up, caught between the light of the sun as it dappled the sea and the crushing embrace of the depths.

“What Do You Choose?”

Annabelle smiled.

“Give me Salt and Blood and Wonder.” She said. “For the rest of my days.”