#drawing-whatever-the-hell-i-want-tober

[high-qualitymoron]

inktober day 21: rhino

lack of motivation going crazy today. anyway we love a visit from the corn rhino

[thepelicanscastle]

Day 2: discover

(done with marker bc i didn’t have a pen lol)

[skulla-rxcks]

Her admirer

! please proceed with caution this is really fucked.

Paring: Bang Chan x fem Reader

Rating: explicit & dead dove dne

Genre: smut. Yandere/stalker Chan

Warnings: kidnapping, f0rced preg, extremely dubious. PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND I MEAN IT.

Day 26 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

I put my hands on the paper cup and take a sip of the warm tea I ordered. I’m sitting at a Café right now and just drawing away in my sketchbook; I’m drawing this guy that I’ve been seeing everywhere I go. At work, on my way home, with friends, basically everywhere. He’s surprisingly a pretty handsome man, still. Why’s he everywhere I go? He’s been on my mind most of the time recently and I’m really sick of him always being the first priority of my thoughts.

I decide to stand up and order a snack or something, my stomaches killing me right now. I leave my stuff at the table and go up to the counter; ordering a slice of this sweet looking chocolate cake that caught my eye earlier when I was picking up my tea. I thank the barista, paying before going back to where I was sitting earlier.

Is this really where I was? My stuffs gone! my phone and sketchbook as well as the tea I was drinking. What the fuck.. I look around, panicking as I attempt to find my belongings

“Looking for something?” A voice says, I turn around and see him. It’s him. The guy who I have been seeing basically everywhere I go. “You…I’ve seen you..” I try to confront him but my words are just getting mumbled up causing me to stutter, almost like if my body is reacting to the strange guy; reacting with a strange sense of fear. “Hm? What do you mean? I was just going to tell you your stuffs on the next table over.” He explains, pointing to the table. Was that really where I was sitting at? My mind begins to flood with questions, eager to find the answers to who this man is.

I pull a slight smile and grab my stuff, before going up and asking the worker to put the cake in a paper bag with me. I walk out of the café, stunned at whatever just happened. Maybe he’s just a nice guy after all. I walk to my car but there’s something wrong. I feel a presence watching me, almost like if I’m being followed.

Once I’m in my car I decide to take a breather before heading off, taking a sip of my tea and finishing it, making sure the cups empty before putting it in my door bin. For some reason I start to feel drowsy, my eyes getting slightly watery as I begin to feel sleepy. Maybe I just didn’t have enough sleep last night? No, that couldn’t be it. Because a few minutes after; everything turns black. I can’t hear or see anything.

——————

I Open my eyes, seeing that I’m not in a familiar place. I’m somewhere else, somewhere I’ve never fucking been in my life, I try to get up but realise I’m chained to the wall like a dog on a leash, what the fuck is going on? Is this a nightmare? The stench of blood fills the room. I’m too scared to say anything, I can’t even scream due to the lump forming in my throat due to worrying about what’s even happening.

“Oh that’s fantastic! You’re awake!” The man says. It’s the same guy who’s been following me, the same guy who I assume drugged my drink, I don’t think I can drink tea ever again after what happened.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” The words slip out from my throat; and finally. I have the courage to speak. “Because I love you, I’ve had my eye on you for ages now, you’re perfect.. absolutely perfect for me.” He chuckles, walking over to me and sitting down in front of me, lifting my chin up with two of his fingers.

“Please let me go.. I’ll do anything, I mean it!” I yell at him, my eyes beginning to water. “Just.. I’ll do whatever you want me to, hell, I’ll even be your girlfriend if that’s what you want, just please don’t hurt or kill me..” I whimper. I turn my head slightly, my eyes widening as I see a puddle of dried up blood; most of it’s turned brown already but there’s a few patches that look fresh.

“Strip.” He demands suddenly. “You’re not even going to tell me your fucking name first?!” I exclaim. “Chan. Now do what I say or I’ll fucking hurt you, you got that?” I nod at his words; petrified of what will happen to me if I don’t obey him. He’s treating me like I’m a Fucking dog! It’s insane, this man.. he’s crazy. Looking down I realise that I’m already just in my underwear meaning he must of taken my clothes off when he was bringing me here or when he chained me up. I do as he says, reaching my hands to my back and unclipping my bra, watching as my tits bounce slightly as they’re released from the padding of the cups.

“Panties off too.” He smirks, clearly getting something out of watching me strip for him. “There, done. Now will you let me go?” I sigh, I’m getting really fucking annoyed at his guy’s behaviour, he’s acting like a fucking child while being In his like.. mid twenties!

“No, you said you’ll do anything not to be killed did you?” Chan laughs. I nod In response to his question.. or statement you may call it instead due to him not giving two shits about what I answer.

“Good girl, then I’m going to fuck you until you get pregnant with my children. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it. What do you thinks worse, hm? Being bred by your not so secret admirer or dying, a slow and painful death as I fuck the stab wounds I’ll put into your pretty little body.”

My eyes widen at his words, my stomach turning as I begin to feel sick. What the fuck is wrong with him, this.. ‘Chan’ guy. “B-being bred..” I mumble, feeling puke begin to climb up into my throat, I manage to keep it down though.

“Good. And that’s what I’ll do.” Chan grins, unzipping his jeans before pulling his cock out and lining it up with my hole. “If you say shit like ‘it’s too much!’ Or ‘It hurts.. I cant handle it!’ I’ll kill you right here, so shut up and be a good little slut for me to fill, yeah?” He smirks as he forcefully pushes himself into my hole, I try not to whine at the size or how painful the stretch is even though I’m probably bleeding from how roughly he’s pounding into me. “Chan..” I cry out, feeling the warm stream of tears run down my face.

“Shut up you whore.” He demands, placing his hand over my mouth making it impossible for me to let out anything expect the most pathetic little moans and whines.

As time continues he begins thrusting harder and faster making the pain almost unbearable to cope with. I want to scream, I want to cum, but I just know if I do he’ll hurt me more than he is currently. “So fucking good, who knew that a girl with such a snappy mouth had such a.. wet and tight little cunt that I needed to demolish by my dick.. mmm..” he groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he reaches closer to his release.

“I’m about to cum inside of you baby, but when I do you’re going to stay here still tied up for a while until I’m certain I’ve gotten you pregnant with my children. And don’t you fucking dare get any ideas about getting rid of OUR child. You’re mine and you’re staying with me until you fucking die.” He grins. “Here it comes, take all of it like a good little toy.” Chan groans loudly, filling me up with his seed before pulling his dick out and stuffing my pussy with his fingers making sure my womb swallowed up.. every.. last drop.

[gryphonlover]

Unscheduled Brainrot

So I drove to another state to visit my fiancee at their college today, which was super fun and awesome. I got to pick them up from class AND I SAW A DUDE IN A JACKET THAT WAS JUST NICHOLAS CAGE’S FACE. LIKE THE BACK OF THE ENTIRE JACKET WAS JUST HIS FACE. IT WAS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. WHEN MY WRIST STARTS FUNCTIONING AGAIN IM GONNA NEED TO DRAW WIND IN IT. DUDE IT WAS JUST INCREDIBLE TO WITNESS

but on the way home I was trapped in the far lane on a huge interstate highway because this asshat pickup truck was intentionally not letting me get around him by either speeding up or slowing down. like he was doin’ it on fucking purpose. and i almost missed my chance to merge onto the highway that leads to MY state. had a bigger pickup truck not ridden that guy’s ass and pushed him faster, i would’ve been pushed onto a different highway going to a secret third state, and a part of this god forsaken country I’ve never been before. but no, the bigger truck came to my rescue so slay to irritating assholes who HAVE to go like 90 miles an hour or they’ll explode, this time it came to my advantage because he stopped the asshole guy from slowing down when i tried to slow to get behind him. i think i should be allowed to eat his tires…

i also didn’t have to go to the ER or urgent care today so MASSIVE fucking slay, because I was hell bent on visiting my fiancee and quite frankly nothin was gonna stop my ass- I had to cancel my plans yesterday because of this weird ass reaction i keep having, but i refused to do so today and thank god it didn’t bite me in the ass because having to cancel this would’ve ruined my whole month more so than this obnoxious reaction has so far (its starting to cause problems again and I’m considering biting my arm off /hj)

i need to get back on top of things for whumptober, but i keep getting ideas for cute little fics of Twi just chilling and having a nice time. and like, that’s great and all, but its WHUMPtober, not “Twilight makes flower crowns for his goats” tober

anyways, I really hope you’re doing alright, take care of yourself and get plenty of water food and rest :) *throws good vibes your way*

and also i hope this shit is coherent 😭

- crazylittlejester

@crazylittlejester

That sounds like an awesome outfit, actually. :0 Maybe not my style, but I would definitely wear that at least once to terrorize my college friends.

Glad you didn't get lost, that could've been bad. :[ I only drove for a road trip twice, and the second time I almost fell asleep at the wheel.

Honestly, you deserve a break. Good for you. Fingers crossed that whatever it is goes away and minds its own business.

Hear me out: Twilight gets a nice vacation while everyone else is whumped in the background. They don't say anything because they don't want to stress him out since he's finally relaxed.

Things have been going okay. I'm starting to feel negative consequences creep up on me again, but I've been getting lots of love and hugs from my roommates. :)

[momodori-p]

Ah... I missed the post for day 7 of oc tober but that's ok! day 7 is personality! yet again I don't feel like drawing for this day but that's ok. Today I wanted to talk about ingram's personality, specifically his skewed morals

forgive me for not having much finished art oops

so in second chance lore, ingram is a demigod of hell! in this world, some humans are given a second chance at life by the god of heaven aldrich as angels, but sometimes they can corrupt and turn into demons based on their self image. ingram's job is to help these demons get back to being angels, and also to help carry out punishment for bad people.

despite having the reputation for being scary especially since he ate someone alive but whatever Ingram is actually very kind, shy, and has a very poor self image.

(art credit: beetleguts on instagram)

^ look at him. he's puppy.

he also loves goofing off and being a funnyman and bringing joy to other people's day :) but he's so occupied with the fear of rejection and being disliked that he has tricked himself into thinking he's a monster and he avoids everyone to the point where he exiled himself.

despite being very sweet and charming aside from his shy and awkward demeanor, he also holds zero empathy for people. not a bad thing, as one of the main themes of the story is that no empathy doesn't mean your bad. he has a lot of sympathy. but he will never understand people. which makes him feel alienated. (there's many reasons he doesn't understand people with autism being the number one but you know.)

his lack of empathy helps with his job because when it comes to most things, he tends to look at things objectively. he has an easy time punishing people like abusers or tyrants etc. he legit ate someone's dad cause he abused them. and some people think he's cruel for it. he thinks murder is ok. he believes that if it's justified, it should happen. a little cuckoo but it's ok I love my men silly

Some other facts about him are that he's super paranoid like deep in psychosis paranoid but he's not afraid of things like storms or monsters just people. a little quirky. yeah.

I'm a little too sick to go more indepth into his whole personality (thanks to whatever form of the cold I have), but he means a lot to me. I projected a lot of my internal feelings onto the second chance cast, and he matches up with most of my insecurities. I care him and I want to use him as a pillow.

[melartandstuff]

I have been wanting to change some things for a bit. I tried to start a blog one thousand three hundred and fifty seven times. I'm trying to marry my interests and they just didn't like each other. Or maybe it was my confidence level. But I've been selling stickers with my original ideas and people actually like it. Truthfully, I'm baffled. It's not a thousand people, but if I put everyone in one room together, I would have a panic attack because I don't want that many people in my house and how they hell did they get in here.

This isn't my best sketch by a long shot. BUT I want the confidence to be ok with it and post it. I want to grow. I want to see my growth. I want to document it and be proud of it. I want online friends to say, "I've been here from the beginning and I love seeing how your style evolved." I want people to also say, "Oh my god, you are so beautiful and your creativity is astounding. That came from your brain? You've got a beautiful brain, girl. Look at you, where did you get that dress? You don't know!? You've had it for seven years!? Yes, fast fashion sucks! It has a hole in the armpit! Don't raise your arms! Woah that's a lot of sweat. Are you ok? Do you need some water? Where are you going? Are you running away? Wait! You forgot your sketchbook. What's in this? OH noooo. Ummm, yikes. I'm just going to throw it away... nobody needs to see this. It's just bad. Not like bad in the way it's criminal, it's just like... bad. Like, how is this circle flat and she really doesn't know how to draw hands. Now, I actually think I need to show everyone I know." And then I gain a thousand followers over night.

Ok, ok, ok. So, the changes. It's purely this. DO WHATEVER I WANT. I tried to figure out what kind of artist I want to be. What is my online identity? And guess what!? I don't need one. Nobody needs one. You probably already knew that, because you are very smart. I will be confident in showing my bad sketches. I will be confident in making animations. I will be confident in making videos. I will be confident in making a book, or two, or three. I will be confident in my paintings. I will be confident in my growth.

I would love to figure out how to be the best artist for MY style. I will soon write a post about how I wish I used art-tober in a more conducive way, but that's for later. This was a little introduction of what I'm doing here. Also, I forgot how much I loved long form blogging. Instagram took that away from me. With that said, don't come at me with grammar, cause that's not what I want. Freeform chaos, baby.

[spooki-spaghets]

Ticci toby hc?

Ah yes, the Tobers

Toby loves polaroid cameras and photography in general, and has a wall dedicated to it

You would think Toby is a dog person, but no

He's more of a cat or bird person

The boy loves birds

Dude is an expert bird watcher, no joke

He has a notebook and draws quick messy sketches of the ones he likes

Toby is really good with stealth. He has his tics and he pops his joints a lot, but he's very good with stealthy operations

He finds a great sense of calm with EJ and talks with him a lot

Since EJ is a quieter individual, Toby finds comfort in him when he wants to be around someone calm and not destructive (Jeff)

Toby suffers with some mad anxiety

Music really helps with it, especially classical music

Clair de Lune is one of his immediate go to songs when it gets really bad

Toby has seen Marble Hornets

Like I said in another post, he doesn't talk about it with other people because he doesn't like when his business is spread around, so he won't spread something like that around to others when it's not his to share

He's not a fan of chocolates, but when he does get a little craving for it he prefers dark chocolate

Slender scared him at first

When he first encountered him, his life was a living hell so even tho Slender saved him, it took a decent bit of time to separate the faceless man from the trauma he went through

For a while he couldn't look at Slender or be around him for too long without spiraling in anxiety and having uncontrollable flashbacks

He enjoys being around Helen, EJ, LJ, Jane, BEN, and Hoodie the most

Tobers is very good at giving advice, and a good bit of residents feel comfortable going to him for it

He may be a killer, but he does have those he cares about and wants the best for them, so he gives them his honest opinions and let's them rant and vent about whatever they need

Also best secret keeper 12/10

[mattzerella-sticks]

Supernatural Crack🩹tober

Day 6: Bi Bi Bi - Generations

1957

           Henry asks him to detail his encounter, again. “I – I didn’t have my, uh… my pen.” He shakes it, awkwardly chuckling.

           The other man – Paul – whistles a sad note at having to repeat his story but does so anyway. “Like I said, I was minding my business – taking a walk through the park…”

           Nodding, Henry scribbles over the little notepad what he should have been writing from the start. If he hadn’t been distracted. By disheveled hair, five o’clock shadows, blue eyes and broad shoulders under a too-tight t-shirt. Paul describes his encounter with the shifter in full detail. Henry barely collects enough information for his investigation. When their meeting ends, Paul ushering him out the door, Henry almost cries in relief. Still, there’s a routine to this. Rules he, a Men of Letters, must follow.

           “If you see anything else,” Henry says, handing Paul a business card, “you can reach me, here.”

           Not really. Henry rarely spends time in the Bunker, unlike his fellow colleagues who skulk around like the very ghosts they study. They’d more than likely answer the phone. Why he told Paul that, he cannot explain. Neither the rush Henry felt when Paul grabbed the card, and for a few scant seconds, they both held it. Thumbs inches apart from one another. Until Henry let go, stepping past the threshold and breathing deep from clean air not tainted by aftershave and loose cigarettes. Confusion flies from his mind like the birds overhead in the sky. Cawing while he walked the short distance from Paul’s trailer towards his car.

           That’s all he would need. A simple trek would send those queer thoughts heavenward, never to bother him again. Paul’s face stayed with him, though, when he entered the car. How his lips moved when asking simple questions, like if he wanted a drink. His fingers on the bottle while he poured, somehow maintaining eye contact with him. That damned business card.

           Henry tightens his grip on the steering wheel, shuddering as it all replays in his mind, frame by frame through his mental projector.

           Luckily, pinned on the rearview, was a picture of his beloved. Millie. Smiling like a ray of sunshine, parting those awful clouds. She gives him strength, and with one final push, shoves those thoughts far away. Paul’s strong fingers were replaced with her delicate ones, and the only lip he thinks about is her soft, pink ones. Her face is all he ever needs. With Millie, he can overpower any temptation.

           “And that’s normal,” he mutters, starting the engine, “we all have temptations… as long as I never give in.”

           On the roads, it’s hard. But that’s why, wherever he goes, he carries a piece of Millie with him. To make it easy.

1989

           John wakes up with a sharp knife cleaving his head in twain, and a dull ache low near his stomach. Gurgling, he rubs a tired hand through his hair. Blocks intrusive sun rays with a calloused paw, mumbling all the while about extinguishing the sun.

           “Yeah,” someone chuckles nearby, sheets rustling as he moves. A heavy arm wraps around him. “The sun’s a fuckin’ loser.”

           Despite the monster-sized hangover he nurses, John sprung from the bed. “What the –“ He bites hard on his tongue, enough to draw blood, as he fully takes in the bed’s other occupant. Bronzed skin, chestnut hair fanning out behind him on the pillow. Bloodshot, blue eyes squinting up at him. Chest bare, the rest thankfully hidden under the blanket. But judging by his own state, and that of the room with clothes strung about, he saw enough. Blissfully forgotten, lost when he sobered.

           “Hey,” the stranger drawls, sitting. Watching John with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong?”

           He twitches, telegraphing his next moves with blaring sirens. John barks a quick order, “No!” in time, startling the other back into bed.

           “What?”

           “No,” he continues, growling. Reaching for a pair of pants, one leg inside. “No, you… you stay there –“

           “What?” he says again, angrier, “John, what the hell is going –“

           “No!” he roars, whipping around. Jeans still unbuttoned, unzippered. “Do not address me, you –“ Like a gunshot, he hurls the insult and watches all the life drain from the other man. Paler than earlier, his lips thin. “I am going to get dressed,” John says, shoulders quaking with rage. At the stranger. At himself. At what happened last night. “And I will leave. You will wait exactly ten minutes. Not nine, not eleven – ten. After that you can do whatever the hell you want as long as we never see each other again. Because if we do I…” John advances, snagging his button down on the way. Strangles the fabric in his grip. “I promise you will not like it.”

           Learning from his earlier missteps, the stranger wordlessly nods, drawing up the covers around his waist.

           “Good.”

           He throws the shirt on, hastily buttoning it. Tucks it into his now-fastened pants, and finds his stained jacket. Then, he grabs his shoes. Exiting barefoot, no care to waste time putting them on. More important that he create distance between him and his mistake.

           It won’t be far. First, he notices his Baby. Parked haphazardly but in one piece. The relief that ballooned in his chest bursts as his gaze trails from that towards the overhead motel sign. A familiar one. The same he saw when driving in three weeks ago, checking in while he skulked about for hunts.

           John looks behind him, at the room he left. Even in a stupor, he found a room on the other side. Far from his kids, his secret safe another day. He slams a boot against his head, ringing increasing from the blow. “Stupid, stupid…” he mutters, walking, “You promised… after the last time, you promised -!”

           This happened before. More than the standard one time – because every boy practiced kissing with their best friend. At least, that’s what Marty told him in the eighth grade. Once isn’t a big deal. Repeat performances and… and other lewd acts, that crosses over into queer territory. Dangerous territory. For him as a man, and a father.

           If only Mary… she stopped it, for a while. Woman or man, there wasn’t a person alive who stole his breath quite like her. Who made his heart skip a beat in a normal way. When she died, normality went with her.

           He hoped at least some of it would stay. But with enough drink, anything is possible.

           Standing outside his door, shifting on his feet, John promises to be better. Resist falling into old habits, into men’s arms. Otherwise, one day, he won’t be as lucky. And where would his boys be…

           “Whatever,” he sighs, opening the door, “women’re better anyway.”

           John expected, with how low the sun was, he’d find a quiet room. Two children fast asleep, and a table John can sit at and consider his life choices. The table’s there, and at least one child lay unmoving on the bed.

           Dean, however, sits on the edge of his bed. Bowl of cereal on his lap, he barely flinched at John’s entrance. Mesmerized by the television screen.

           Creeping forward, he curiously spies on the cartoon Dean watches. He recognizes the explosions and music, glad his son enjoyed a perfect boys’ show like G.I. Joe. Still, freaked by his morning, John sees the cartoon with new eyes. Were the men on the show always that jacked? Abnormally so? And men don’t hug, why are they? John only hugged his fellow soldiers for select reasons, and those nights ended in hushed whispers and regret.

           He strides across the room and clicks the television off.

           “Hey!” Dean cries, “I was watching –“

           “You won’t ever watch that show again, you hear me?” he says, sternly wagging his finger. “Do you hear me?”

           Dean whines, kicking his legs. “Why? What’s so bad about it?”

           “Because,” he splutters, cheeks flushed, “because, you don’t want people to think you’re a fairy, do you?” His oldest frowns, clearly confused. Unused to the term. John, reticent, turns from him. “Besides, you’re too old for cartoons anyway. Men don’t watch cartoons.” At Dean’s silence, John heads for the bathroom. “Wake Sammy, tell him we’re leaving –“

           “What?”

           “Your things better be packed by the time I finish showering.” He shuts the door, blocking any response.

           Hidden from his kids, John bleeds every ounce of tension from his body. Shoes drop, booming in the small space. Shuffling further, John braces himself against the sink. Stares at his reflection, hating every sinful inch. “Never again,” he whispers, “you’re stronger than your mistakes.”

2020

           Dean watches his reflection mouth the words, easy without sound. But when he tries voicing those thoughts, his voice crackles and cuts out. Plug pulled before anything happens, too frightened by what might be.

           “You can do this,” he mutters, splashing some water on his face. “You can do this.” He’s had how many years? Of figuring things out. Of lying. Of acceptance. It’s three words. There are scarier things than that, and Dean has taken them all down.

           But this?

           Sam knocks on the door, “Dean? You finished in there?”

           “Give me a sec, Sam!” he calls, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. His brother drumming continuing behind him, testing his patience. “Seriously!”

           “Come on… I want to shower!” Scoffing. Sam slams a heavy hand on the door. “Can you please come out already?”

           Dean swings it open, Sam’s brows jumping in surprise. “Fine!” he shouts, flailing, “I’m bisexual. Are you happy?”

           Sam scowls, looking unimpressed. “Is that all?”

           “…Yeah?”

           “Good,” Sam says, offering a tiny smile. Only momentarily, as in the next second it flattens into a frown. “Now, if you're done, can you please exit the bathroom so I can wash the witch gunk from my hair?”

           “Sure, sure…” Dean stumbles out, Sam rushing in after. Chest lighter, as was his mood. He giggles from the absurdity of it all, raking shaking fingers through his hair. “I’m bisexual,” he repeats, “I’m bi – I’m bi!”

           A hurricane of thoughts whip through is mind. Many of them a variation of what he’s already announced. In the eye of that storm, however, is a crystal-clear lake of blue. A comfort, that makes his heart swell and feel safe. The same color as a very, important person’s eyes.

           Dean dials his number, holding the phone to his ear. He answers on the third ring, Dean speaking over him. “Hey, Cas! I – I have something to tell you. I’m –“

(Day 5 - Now That’s an Angel Blade)

[vegetacide]

Whump●tober -Shaky Hands

Veg-notables: So I decided that this one needed a revisit as the aftermath of 10.Unconscious intrigued me.. I intended to take a break today.. oops.. failed. 

@gumnut-logic  ::sneak attack…::

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: Post brain explosions.. With residual ouchiness and discombobulation

Characters: Virgil/Kayo...

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Previous post for this can be found HERE 

1. Shaky hands

Enjoy…

oOo

The fight to regain consciousness was a grueling task as Virgil’s brain sluggishly began to turn over and his internal dialogue fought to crawl back to the land of coherent thought. The first snips of reality peppering in and out of cognizance were in a weird tableau of hazy screen shots that left him confused and utterly disoriented.

The first thing to really registered in the slow moving molasses of his mind was the soft pad of retreating steps.  The sound stood out in sharp contrast to everything else for some reason but he just couldn’t muster the energy to figure out why. No sooner had the thought entered his mind, than it was briskly whisked away with the invasion of light flashing over his closed eyelids.  

The residual ache behind his twinging optic nerves thrummed along with his heartbeat and forced him to shut down anything too complicated to process. Which didn’t leave him with much to work with except maybe breathing.  

Uhg,  what the hell? 

Shielding his eyes as the bright afterimages swirled about the inky darkness he wanted to marshal something from his flagged system to seek out and destroy the invasive luminescence.  Unfortunately that would involve ambulation and that too seemed beyond his current abilities.

A twing again.. Right, stick with breathing..   

Cautiously, he cracked open gritty eyes. Blinked repeatedly at the sting as they instantly began to water. A quick, foggy eyed glance about told him what he needed to know; location.  He was in his room, though how he actually got there was a blank in his memory.

From what little he could remember, he had been on the flight deck of Two running post flight checks when the first inclination of an oncoming migraine started to present itself.  After that, things grew very murky.  Tiny little blips of colour and texture.  A hard, cold surface, ebony richness, the scent of jasmine,  a soft lilting voice, a warm breath across his skin then there was nothing. 

Reaching up a hand to rub at the tension at his brow, a tug on his arm forced him to open his eyes again.  “..shit…” He softly cursed as he took note of the IV line and his eyes traced up the line to hazily take in the bag of saline hanging above the headboard. 

He’d really done it to himself this time and he was not looking forward to sorting this mess out once he was back on his feet.  With the way he was feeling though that was still a while off.   

Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, Virgil heaved his torso off the bed with herculean effort and almost immediately regretted the action when the room started to spin and distort.  Maybe not one of his best ideas but considering what had transpired over the last so many hours he didn’t think he could possibly dig himself in any deeper than he already was. 

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed,  he leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, elbows braced firmly on his knees. He was intent on getting his ass out of bed and across the short distance to the his ensuite bathroom but as he looked up he almost groaned at how far away the door appeared to be. The temptation to just return to the soft confines of his bed was growing proportionately to his waning strength.  

Staring at the bathroom door just five feet from him, he willed his body to heed his mental commands.  Feet firmly planted and he readied muscles to bunch and push off when a hand landed on the back of his neck and a quiet voice whispered in his ear.

“And where do you think your going?”   

Flinching as the figure behind him scared the living shit out of him, Virgil found himself thumping to the floor with a not so very manly yelp.   Pressing his hand to his racing heart he cursed vehemently. 

“Well, good morning to you too.”  Kayo smiled leaning over the side of the bed and looking down at him.  “Don’t let Grandma hear you swear like that or she is liable to wash your mouth out with soap no matter what state your head is in.”

With the easy grace of someone who knew how to handle herself, Kayo unfurled herself from the bed and crouched down beside him.  “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.” 

All he could manage was a grunt.

Kayo tutted and ducked under his arm to help him up. He sometimes forgot how strong she wasn and in moments like these he was grateful for the practiced ease in which she used it. 

Settling him back on the edge of the bed, she unhooked the saline bag from the quick release.  her eyes concentrating on the task a little too hard for his liking.

There was a pensiveness about her that he knew well.  She was brooding and trying to figure out the best way to broach a subject that she was unsure of.  Not a good thing considering he had a pretty good idea what the content of her musings was.  

Reaching up he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and once again contemplated hermitting himself away for the next century. 

Her cool hands took hold of his forearm and pulled his hand away from his face.  Checking over the catheter, she made sure the valve for the quick release was securely closed and the small bit of line was fastened in place with an extra strip of medical tape. 

“Bathroom.”  She ordered and tugged on his arm

Back on his feet once more Kayo shuffled him off into the bathroom. She stayed a pace behind as he entered the cool confines of the tiled space and as she passed through the door, she adjusted the lights to low knowing his eyes would be sensitive to it for at least the rest of the day.  

While he took care of business, she turned the shower on and adjusted the controls. The muscles across his back tightened as the tension in the room grew  with each passing second. “In you get.”  She said once she was satisfied with the temperature but didn’t meet his eyes.

He obeyed with little complaint. He really didn’t have the energy to put up much of a fight and besides the idea the warm water washing away the sweat and easing his tired muscles did sound appealing.  

Looking down at himself he realized that he was still in his arming tunic from the other day and with a snarl he pulled it up and over his head. His boxer came next though the act of ditching those took some effort as he wobbled like a drunk on one leg. Kayo steadied him with a sturdy arm and he gave a nod of thanks. 

Naked and shivering as the cool air touched his sweaty skin he dragged in a breath, got a whiff of himself and instantly paled.  A lovely combination of sweat and vomit mingled in his nose and he winced as his stomach gave a retaliatory squeeze. 

Biting down on the impulse to toss his cookies again; like really there was anything in there to bring up, he forced his body to move and stepped under the warm spray of the shower. 

Soap, shampoo, rinse, repeat. Stand like a statue and drown.. Was that possible while in the shower?  

The stall door opened and Virgil groggily opened his eyes.  Probably not possible, he mused. Wow he really was out for lunch still. His thoughts were sluggish and random and head felt like it was floating above his body.  

“Out you get.”  Another order and she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

Damn it.

Stepping out she dried him off and wrapped a towel around his waist before leading him back to bed. He had to admit the shower was a good idea, it had helped a little though it had sapped what little he had left in the tank on reserve. 

A clean muscle shirt and boxers followed and she pulled back the sheets, an open invitation to get back in. 

Effort expended, he did as she silently asked and sank back into the softness of his bed.  

God, he was tired and he hated the lethargy that was going to dog him for the next few days.  This episode had been a bad one. He knew he had over extended himself but what choice had he had.  Lives had been at stake and if he could do something about it he was duty bound to step up to the plate, consequences be damned… or so he had thought. 

Pushing the pads his fingers into his eye sockets and tried not to let the continued strained silence get to him.  In his state, though his patience for waiting it out lasted a whole of thirty seconds.   “Kay…”

“I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard.”  She plowed right over him.  Flattened him by the tone of her voice, the worried edginess to her usually pleasing lilt. 

Crap on a cracker..  Virgil pulled a heavy breath into his lungs and the exhaustion weight down on him.  He was tempted to look and see who had placed the house on his back but the answer to that was obvious.  Himself.

Whatever his intentions at the beginning of all of this….several days ago, he hadn’t  intended on scaring her.  

He kicked himself with a groan. “Kay.  Look, I’m sorry I worried you.  It’s been a hard few days and I didn’t plan this…”

“That’s exactly the problem.”  Her green gaze shifted and lasered in on him.  “You push and push and push and completely forget that you’re human.”

She turned away from him, fusing with the saline bag as she hooked him back up again. Her handling of the IV rough and it was obvious even to his foggy brain that she was uncomfortable revealing this part of herself even to him.  “Do you know what it was like to see you like that?”  Her voice was a whisper but he heard it loud and clear as if she had used a bullhorn.  

With a bit more effort than he cared to admit, he grunted back to his feet and stepped towards her.  Reaching out he caught her hand in his and was dumbfounded to find it shaking.  

Words caught in his throat, he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in his ear, his voice rough as her shoulders quaked. Shit  “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder but please don’t cry.”  

Her shoulders silently shuddered under him, the only sign that she would give of her distress and she buried her face into his neck. Her willowy arms encircling his waist and holding on tight as she tried to rein in her rampant emotions. 

Christ, he’d done it this time.  She never cried. He’d really scared her this time for her have become this upset.  

He would rather deal with her ire and scathing tongue.  Her anger was something he knew how to handle and something he much preferred. Tears though? From her?  He was at a complete loss.  

He would do better. He had to.  

He swept a comforting hand down the length of her back and brushed a kissed across her crown.  An unvoiced promise in his actions, he would do anything to make this right again. 

Energy flagging, he pulled her down to the bed with him and tucked her into his side. Comfort and sleep first then they would tackle figuring this out.  He would figure this out. 

The fading ache behind his eyes gave a little thump.  A friendly reminder of what happened when he neglected himself that he wasn’t soon to forget.   

After this he was sure he was going to have to contend with his big brother… Something that he didn’t look forward to considering the state that Kayo was in. 

Shit.... 

The End.

oOo      

Next post can be found HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

[luanardo]

Hogwarts Mystery OC-tober

Or...would it be MC-tober???

Have you you seen Inktober posts going around?

Do you wanna participate and have fun?

Can you not draw or don’t have the energy to draw thirty-one things in a month? 

If you’re like me and answered “yes” to all of these questions, then boy howdy have I got a fun game for you! 

What I have here is thirty-one prompts for the month of October! Prompts that you can do whatever you want with, including (but not limited to): 

Sharing a headcanon about it or your MC’s relation to it! 

Writing a drabble about it!

Making an aesthetic/moodboard for it! 

Or, y’know, drawing it I guess

I’ve only got one rule for you: 

Have fun! Don’t worry if you miss a day (hell, I’ve already missed three) and don’t stress about it if you do! We’re here to have a good time, not meet a quota!

Now rev up those keyboards and start creating! I can’t wait to see what you make! 

( ᐛ )و

((EDIT: Fixed some typos in the image))

[gremlin-supreme]

OC-tober Day 4 - Drive

(Having missed the first few days, I tried writing something today for OC-tober featuring my witch, Seraphine Delacroix. I don't think I've posted anything about her on here. So this may seem ambiguous to most, but if anyone is interested in her and her backstory, I'm happy to dish out the details! Anyway, here's a journal entry for today's prompt.)

10/04/18

The cards aren't playing nice today. But when have they ever?

No matter how many times I shuffle, how many times I cut the deck in half, in thirds, in fourths, I'm left with the same damn card.

The Knight of Swords reversed.

This card says I'm impulsive, that I don't care about the consequences of my actions. All I care for is the end goal and not the means to get there. But in being so blindsided by my impatience, I've forgotten what my purpose was in the first place.

I've lost my true ambition, whatever it is that drives me to do what I do.

And I hate when the cards are right.

So what's the point in it all? What does it matter? What do I actually want out of life?

Am I just being reckless for the sake of being reckless? Could never really let go of that teenage rebellion. Or am I acting out against the inevitable, of what my mom is going through, of what grandma went through, all the Delacroix women?

It could be because I haven't actually found a purpose. I might have just made myself believe there was an end goal. Denial is one hell of a drug.

I guess I should start finding the meaning in the meaningless.

I'd really like to draw a different card.

[high-qualitymoron]

Cringetober day 7: crossover shout out to @clandestinecache-21 for the idea :D

[thepelicanscastle]

OCtober day 23: pokemon gym leader au

ignore the fact that its blurry. its fine okay

i have teams for all them below

be aware that i made these a while ago and also that i do not know any amount of meta. these are all vibe based

qc: Azumarill, Mantine, Lapras, Primarina, Quagsire, Lanturn min: Morpeko, Dedenne, Raichu, Luxray, Magnezone, Tinkaton berta: Lucario, Corviknight, Medicham, Sirfetch'd, Machamp, Falinks sunny: Arcanine, Corviknight, Volcarona, Salandit, Pyroar, Talonflame june: Sandslash, Corviknight, Crustle, Golem, Flygon, Tyranitar riri: Togekiss, Corviknight, Butterfree, Altaria, Oricorio, Swoobat

qc is definitely rival, if not main character. the others could either be champion and elite four or evil team leader and grunts. i dunno

[actuallykiwi]

OC-tober 5th: Favorite Leisure Activity

Fallout OC: Annie / Featuring: Hancock, Piper, Nick, Nat, & Ellie

Enjoy :) 

***********************

“The hell is this?” 

Hancock watched as Annie tip-toed precariously on top of a stool, sewing the top of some type of net. “This,” she grunted as she pulled the net to the side against a mat, “is a volleyball net!” 

“A what?” 

“Volleyball! It was my favorite sport pre-war. Played it all throughout high school.” She climbed down the stool and stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Well, it’s not in... great shape. In fact it has quite a few holes which, may be aproblembut anyways! Now to find a ball.” She skipped over to a beat-up old trunk in the equally-beat-up old gym. 

“So this is what you called me in here for, huh? Whatever makes you happy, I guess.” Hancock teased, grinning as he leaned against the rotted bleachers. “It does, actually, thank you,” she grinned back and rummaged through the trunk. “Aha! One still intact.” She pulled out a yellow and white volleyball, covered in a few stains and scuffs, but still inflated. An echo resounded across the gym as she gave it a few bounces and bumps with her wrist. 

“You could light up all of Goodneighbor with that grin,” which you do, Hancock thought, “you’re that excited about a game none of us can play, sunshine?” 

“Oh, I’ll teach you! It’s so much fun! Come on, let’s go get the others!” Smiling widely and giggling to herself, she grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the gym. “Alright, alright! Sheesh!” He was laughing himself. 

-------------------------

“Alright, what am I looking at here?” Nick stood by Piper, Ellie, and Nat, who all had the same curious expression on their faces. 

“This,” Annie galloped to the middle of the court, arms spread wide,” is volleyball! Like I was telling Hancock, it was my favorite sport from back then. Come on, I’ll show you how to play!” She ran over and grabbed Nick and Hancock’s hands and pulled them to the other side of the net. 

Piper scratched her neck, “Aw Blue, you know I’m not much of a sports person, I don’t really wanna-” 

“You’ll never know ‘til you try, Piper.” Nat shrugged and walked over with her big sister. “Worth a shot.” Ellie grinned and walked with them. 

“That’s the spirit! So here’s how it works; the goal is to keep the ball from hitting the ground. By doing that, you’ll want to hit it like this,” Annie showed them how to do a bump, “this,” a set, “or this,” and a spike. “Now you can only hit it 3 times, then it has to go to the other side of the court. First team to 25 points wins!” 

“So just keep it off the ground? That’s not so bad.” Piper asked. “And that’s considered a sport? That’s nothin’.” Hancock chuckled. 

“Then let’s get started.” After a quick explanation of a few more rules, Annie backed up to serve. She went for an overhand, which promptly smacked into the net. “...Well, I am over 200 years out of practice.” 

“First point to us, yeah!” Nat exclaimed, and all of them erupted into laughter. 

After was Piper, who underhanded, and barely made it over. Annie bumped, Nick set, and Hancock slammed it right into the back wall. “Ah, dammit.” 

“Jesus, trying to kill us, Hancock!?” Cried Piper, who barely avoided the ball whizzing by her head. 

The rest of the game went like that, the ball flying every which direction, into heads and stomachs sometimes, and eventually the game came to a halt when Nick went to set and the ball deflated. “You know, I debated on wearing a glove or not.” He said, examining the ball dangling around his metal hand. “Aw, Nick, it’s okay! I think that’s enough for today, anyways,” said Annie, rubbing her still-sore cheek from the blow Ellie landed on her. 

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t mean to hit it that hard!” Ellie explained, and Annie just laughed. “Ellie, it’s fine! I feel worse for Hancock, straight to the groin.” She grimaced as Hancock groaned, “Don’t remind me,” he glared at Nat, who had a slightly evil grin on her face, “evil little spawn.” 

“Let’s just head on home, it’s almost dark anyways.” Nick smiled and placed a hand on Annie’s shoulder as everyone began to exit. 

Annie watched as Nat excitedly recapped all of her best moves to everyone, Hancock complained, and Ellie and Piper laughed at their new little rivalry. 

“You know something? I don’t think I ever truly realized how influential you are, until now.” Nick said to her as they walked. “How do you mean?” She asked. 

“You could take something as simple as learning a new sport, and use it to draw people together. You have a gift for inspiring people to try new things, to leave their comfort zones. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Piper touch a sports ball before.” He chuckled. 

“Eh, this was purely selfish on my part, I just wanted to play again and couldn’t by myself!” She laughed, then Nat turned and smiled back at her. “Hey Annie? Let’s do this again!” 

Annie smiled warmly and nodded. “But... thanks, Nick.” 

[thedragonlover]

omg Dragon is doodling again it’s the end of the world

Nope, it’s October! Y’know, the month also called Inktober or Kinktober or whatever-other-tober you could want in life or unlife, shout out to all of my undead followers yeah boi. So I decided, hey, Imma join in! Except... obviously, I don’t draw much. But! I’m not! Letting that! Stop meeeee!

But I decided that I wasn’t going to be too hard on myself for this. Creating anything is a good thing! So this will just be my Month of Being Creative Everyday! ...which I guess I’ll call Maketober! As in someone make sure I do this dammit

My goal is to try drawing everyday, but if I lack the free time (or if I’m just really not feeling it) I’ll do something else creative, like write at least 100 words or idk something crazy like make a sculpture out of cardboard rolls and scrap paper. And to parallel my buddy @lostsoulwolf with her “drawing Sans for October” challenge, I’m going to focus on Undertale’s Grillby for mine! Today was the original Grillby, but I’ll be trying different AUs and stuff. Who knows, maybe I’ll work up to drawing more than just a head and neck! But probably not.

@icybeanheadcanons here’s my first attempt! Hopefully I’ll improve as the month goes on! :’D

(Hell while I’m at it, @undertale-imagine-that-the-2nd and @awesomeundertalelover3 cuz you both are cool and fellow Grillby lovers so you might enjoy this like a little, or something)

[high-qualitymoron]

I'm just doing whatever I want. the band from the music video for tom cardy's hs

one could argue that this was for inktober day 20: uncharted because. space. i wouldn't necessarily agree with them but w/e

in my mind this is a poster for a tour or something they did but it's not the right ratio. i guess it could be an album cover or something idk

anyway textless version