#errr idk

[alioop88]

everybody look at my edit bc tiktok keeps taking it down 😖

[worstgirlinmiami]

Madison 24 she/her EMT+ICU RN worst girl in Miami umiami alum 18+ blog

-> masterlist

- only writing for Jack abbot as of right now but open to others later ^_^

- asks & requests are open (just know I have a job! I sometimes might not get to your ask/request quickly)

[faslyum]

niko i think

[cartooncadet666]

For those of you that might prefer it, I am currently trying to make an Ao3 version of the Discovering the Siren drafts.

It might be edited and more well written than what I currently had because I made the writing during school (which is why it didn't save most of the time)

Stay tuned for Part 2 👍

[gummidon]

Kissy

[celestialbabysworld]

.

[pingunaa]

real thing said to me today.

“i am lesbian, but im dating him”

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Rainfall means nothing good on Quesadilla island. Elsewhere it might bring life or fresh drinking water, but the weather systems are not natural here; on the Federation's perfect holiday island, it is always sunny.

Except when it isn't. Except for when it rains.

The eggs fear the rain, but they are not here now. The islanders fear the rain, when they are conscious enough to see it. The workers fear the rain, because they know what it means.

First comes the rain, and then comes the storm.

In each and every meaning of that word.

Reactions vary, even more so now. There are no eggs to teleport to safety, and so nobody reaches for their monitor. Well, BadBoyHalo does, but he sighs and puts it away, takes his scythe and steps into the rain instead.

Most find themselves somewhere inside and warm, praying it is not for them that tragedy strikes this day. Messages are passed around checking for codes, for pumpkins, for someone at Lucky Ducks messing around. They hope for the last, expect the first, and worry in every which way.

Some days it's none of them. Some days its a new sort of tragedy; people wait in their homes for a request for aid, for it to be over, for the monsters to find them in their safe places. Those with indoor warps might recieve guests seeking comfort, those with outdoor ones might find desperate stragglers at their doors. You let them in, no matter who they are, because you do not leave people out to weather the storm.

Pac hangs a green lantern in the window, and hopes it will guide Mike home. Where ever he is.

Wherever he has gone.

Only Etoiles is reliably outside in the storm, out with his scythe, looking for the danger, for who he needs to protect. Others arm themselves and prepare to give aid when a location is called. Most find warmth by the heating, and do not stop.

The islanders do not realise that the workers fear just as much as they, running for the offices or the Federation building or even the jail depending on where they might be. The shelters for them to build from are insufficient protection.

Every Federation building is insufficient protection, but least they are dry from the rain.

Sometimes, nobody calls for aid. Nobody finds what monster walked their streets, nobody sees what horror has crawled out from under their beds, nobody sees what new tendrils of concrete have emerged.

Lightning strikes twice, the island weeps, the inhabitants pray to their gods.

There is a storm on Quesadilla island, and it will never end.

Just sometimes the inhabitants are caught in its eye.