#character: unnamed

[liviingmemory]

Still working on getting more free time hgguuhhhhhh have some FF OC sketches that's all I have rn

[ilovedthestars]

there really are few emotions i find more compelling in a story than "you should be afraid of me. please don't be afraid of me"

[morteraphan]

Alarich 🏹 [oc]

[wheel-of-fashions]

Chapter 9

"people dressed in so many colors they made him think of a field of wildflowers"

[yanxidarlings]

Seriously considering adding Squid Game to my writing roster after season 2, there's too much potential and I can't get over the cast

[bieriestsk]

Last thing you see

And dis bro without his armor (shaggy, unshaven and dissatisfied)

Dis bro with his bro

[waywardsunlight]

Tag yourself I'm undiagnosed theatre kid

[bevsi]

isi 🎀

[killjo-q]

Random OC drawings because brain cannot focus today but I wanted to draw something

[transingthoseformers]

Thinking about a universe where Soundwave doesn't talk but Ravage does

Character: and what would you like sir (Soundwave)?

Soundwave: *opens up his chest dock and pops out Ravage*

Ravage: He'll have a double distilled cube of regular with a large side of silica chips

Soundwave: *tilts helm*

Ravage: and make that cube bubbled, please?

Character: ...and for you, ma'am?

Ravage: I'll have a medium straight blue engex, thanks

[rabbit-rays]

the mad stone!

let it control you!

[narfin-frood]

another little comic abt wander's time as the interim guitarist for ninety ounce nihilists .... i cannot stop thinking abt it

single image spread, transcript, thumbnails & other ramblings under the cut

TRANSCRIPT:

[an empty stage with a ninety ounce nihilists banner hanging from the top. the work lights are on, showing nobody but wander coiling a length of wire onstage. tumbleweed hums to himself as he works, but within a moment, the lights flick off with a loud CLUNK]

TUMBLEWEED: ummm... hey! couldja turn those back on?

[no response, so wander goes back to what he was doing in the dark]

TUMBLEWEED: s'pose not

[a band member appears in the next frame. she has a head like a hammerhead shark]

BAND MEMBER: hey, tumbleweed

TUMBLEWEED: well hi there!

BAND MEMBER: how come you still stick around?

[tumbleweed looks away sheepishly, but he still responds]

TUMBLEWEED: well, you're my friends! mr. threat is, too... he just don't know it yet

BAND MEMBER: ...he hates you. and he treats you like garbage. he's...he's making money off you, and he's not even giving you any credit. much less the cash you generate!!

[tumbleweed shrugs.]

TUMBLEWEED: never expected him to.

BAND MEMBER: wh...well, you should.

[tumbleweed takes his hat off and stuffs the coil of wire inside as he speaks]

TUMBLEWEED: it's alright. i'm doin' him a favor. y'all needed a guitar, n' i happen'ta have one. i don't expect nothin' in return

[the band member glances off stage with a sour expression towards three other members of the band, including major threat himself.]

BAND MEMBER: let me give you a hand.

---

ok so the band member i included doesnt have a name, but here she is in the show, along with the rest of the ninety ounce nihilists, all vaguely middle-aged

i really realllly wanna draw them all when they were active as nozn because i love to dress up funky guys like them. theyre so fun. anyways.

i think wander is the reason nozn breaks up in the first place. they get back together in the future, yeah, after major threat makes up with them, however he goes about that. but like, the comical lengths i think major threat would go through just to keep wander at arm's length would be a tipping point for the rest of the band, because they'd start to realize how poorly they were being treated.

i think the straw that breaks the camel's back would be wander attempting to provide backing vocals and being immediately kicked out of the band. the kicker being that it's for a song he wrote, and all the other members would quickly follow him, because, hey, what the fuck, dude. what did he ever do to you. what did WE do to you for that matter.

ANYWAYYYZZZZ if anybody has like name suggestions for them or anything let me know! honestly i'm defaulting to calling them all different alien variations on trent and reznor because i think it would be funny to do

[mouth-less]

got your link cable?

[morteraphan]

My co-author and I started a new project for fun and I'm super excited about it! These are my first rough concepts for my character Alarich (the archer guy). 🏹

[warmblanketwhump]

Idea for you. Let’s say we have 5 characters living in one household. They’re all very close. A brings an illness into the house. B catches it while taking care of them. Then C joins the party. Then finally D catches it as well, leaving E to take care of all of them. They start to feel ill, but power through. By the time the others have recovered, E’s fever is bad, and now they have to take care of the caretaker.

this flu season, everyone got sick.

First to fall was A, who came home from work with a pale face and a raspy voice and went straight to bed. When E went up to see them, they found them huddled in bed, blearily staring at the wall.

“I don’t feel good,” they whimper.

Next, C’s nagging cough deepened. It had started a tickle in their throat, but soon moved all the way down into their chest. C was the active type—always going for runs and spending time outdoors—so E knew they were in trouble when a short walk from room to room left C breathless, and soon, they were bedridden as well.

Then, B started complaining about feeling chilled.

“Aren’t you guys freezing?” They sat at the dinner table with D and E, a blanket clutched round their shoulders as they stare blankly at the meal they’ve barely touched.

“No?”

B runs their hands up and down their arms, then hugs themselves tightly with a shudder. “I just can’t get warm.”

D and E exchange a look before D rests a hand on B’s shoulder. “I’ll get the thermometer.”

In the span of 36 hours, three of them had become bedridden.

At first, it’s a bit of a joke between them all, D and E commiserating as they move between rooms with cough syrup, tissues, blankets, and tea.

“We should open up our own hospital,” E cracks as they

But that all changes four days in when E comes downstairs to see D at the kitchen table, ashen-faced and clutching a mug of tea in their hands.

“D, you look awful.”

D hugs the mug closer to their chest and shudders, coughing weakly. “I’ll manage. It’s just the sniffles.”

Before D can move away, E’s got a palm to their too-warm forehead and a sinking feeling in their chest. “Off to bed with you, D. You’re the next victim.”

D groans, slumping over with their head on the kitchen table. “E, I can’t just leave you.”

“Yes, you can and you will. You’re feverish and pale as death.”

D pulls the blanket tighter, a sheepish look on their face. “I thought…I thought it wouldn’t get me too.”

“No one thinks it will. Bed. Now.”

So that’s how D winds up the fourth victim of the flu, and despite their protests, they were arguably the worst hit. What they tried to pass off as a quick rest turned into a six-hour nap. they woke that evening with a 104 fever, having sweat through their clothes and bedsheets.

“It’s going to be a long night,” E whispers under their breath.

——————-

Two days later, E’s standing in the kitchen, fighting to keep their eyes open as the coffee brews, when they feel it.

A chill, prickling between their shoulder blades before it washes over their whole body.

No. I’m just overworked and sleep deprived.

Generously, E had slept for a combined 3 or 4 hours over the past two nights. It was partially their own fault. They’d been sleeping on the hallway floor so they could be equally close to everyone, which meant they heard every whimper, every cough, every quiet plea for help.

C had been up all night with a body-wracking cough, and B’s fever had spiked twice, which meant two changes into dry pajamas. A seemed to be through the worst of it, but they were still so weak they had to be helped to the bathroom. D woke at 2 in the morning, wracked with chills so violent that E gave into their pleas and helped them take a bath to warm up. After being dried off, they spent the rest of the night clutching a hot water bottle.

After that ordeal, E hadn’t even gone to bed—they’d just collapsed on D’s carpet, tugged the nearest blanket around themselves, and passed out.

Until they were woken by C’s coughing a couple hours later, and it all began again.

I'll just finish these dishes and then go sit by the fire. It's probably just this cold snap getting to me.

But as they wash dish after dish, E finds that each one becomes harder and harder to lift. Even the effort of standing makes their knees shake, and goosebumps prickle on E’s arms for no reason at all.

No. No. I can’t get sick.

By midmorning, it’s clear that something is very wrong. E’s chilled to the bone, despite being layered in thermals, a thick sweater and multiple pairs of socks. They resist the urge to wrap up in their bathrobe—the others will know something is wrong if they have that many visible layers on.

So they take A a glass of water, trying to hide how badly their hands are shaking when they hand it off. A must be thirsty enough they don’t notice as they gulp the glass down, but they frown once they’ve finished.

“E, you’re pretty peaked.”

“Hmm?” E snaps to attention, their focus drifting.

“You just look sorta washed out. Have you been sleeping?”

“I’ve been fine. As much sleep as I can with four patients to take care of,” E snaps. They instantly regret their tone as A flinches, then raises their eyebrows. “Sorry. It’s just…it’s been a lot.”

A props themselves up, wrapping their discarded robe around their shoulders. “E, I promise I’m feeling better. I can sit with D for a while—“

“No way. You couldn’t even walk yesterday.”

“And that was yesterday,” A says, patiently. “Give me an hour. If I don’t feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” E says, too tired to fight with a suddenly chipper A. “But if you even seem slightly faint, it’s back to bed.”

——————

C is the next patient to raise alarms. Though their hacking cough has rendered them voiceless, they seem to be on the mend—vigorously pointing on things and writing messages on their notepad.

E, you look sick. C stabs the pointed message with their finger for emphasis.

E stifles a groan. “You’re one to talk. Drink your cough medicine.”

C accepts the shot of dark red syrup, but their eyes don’t leave B as they take it.

E meets A in the hallway, and before they can ask, A rattles off a report on B. “Fever’s still holding steady at 101.4. They’re miserable, but they’re not going to die. Gave them a cold washcloth, aspirin, and an extra blanket.”

“That’s….good work, A.”

A rolls their eye. “You’re not the only one who can play nurse.”

D is the final stop—they’re still in the roughest shape, feverish and mumbling incoherently, but A manages to soothe them with a cool hand to the forehead and some soft words. E adds another blanket to D’s bed and forces some more medicine into them, and D’s asleep in three minutes.

All patients accounted for, they leave D to rest. E’s about to tell—no, demand—that A goes back to bed, when a sudden dizzy feeling washes over them, and they grab the doorframe.

“E? You alright?”

“I…..I…” Suddenly, E can’t even form words, they just know they’re freezing, and they’re torn between keeping hold of the wall and wrapping their arms around themselves, get warm get warm get warm, and when they choose neither, their knees buckle and they crumple to the floor.

——————

The first thing E realizes, as A and C help them to sit on their bed, is that their sheets are crisp and clean. When was the last time they’d slept a full night in their bed?

“A, go….go to bed,” E rasps weakly through chattering teeth, huddling on the edge of the bed as A helps them into pajamas. “I’ll manage.”

“E, you can’t even keep your head up. Just let us help you change.”

E shudders weakly as their bare, feverish skin hits the chilly air, and A eases them under the covers, rubbing their back. “There you go. Nice and warm.” E leans into the touch, groaning softly, and they feel a thermometer poke under their tongue.

“103.6.”

E groans, pulling the blankets tighter. “I…I can’t be sick.”

“Hush.” A covers them with another blanket. “You took care of us, now let us take care of you.”

E is too feverish and cold and achy to protest, so they let them.

[kissthenova]

"my mom found this internship for me. such a slacker, she said. i just hope she doesn't blame herself."

me 🤝 swansea would do anything for this guy