#sadtober

[sastrasa]

Barangkali benar bahwa Oktober tercipta dari kata 'berat.' Sungguh, berat. Okto-berat.

- Sastrada

#quote #puisi #quotes #galau #sedih #inspirasi #bahagia #motivasi #senang #kasih #sadtober #october #oktober #oktoberat

[dan2078]

Day 10 something simple for today... genocide run, a classic. i hate drawing boots so i didn’t.

#swapfell #swapfellsans #swapfell chara #angstober #sadtober

[dabsnoestadisponible]

Sadtober Vol 1. pag 21 - 25.

#draw #dabsart #drawing #dibujo #comic #dabs #webcomic #ilustracion #ilustration #dabsnoestadisponible #sadtober #sadtober vol 1 #inktober #jose #jose juan calavera

[duskandcobalt]

Lover, Please Stay

The Shadowsingers’ usually perfect posture is nowhere to be seen - his broad shoulders are dropped, wings almost dragging on the floor behind him as if he didn’t have the energy to hold them up. His beautiful face, those emerald flecked hazel eyes, hold such sorrow that Elain feels her own heart crack in response.

Kinktober? More like sadtober! I’ve had this song on repeat and it just screams sad boi Azriel so one thing led to another and this is the result.

The first installation of my little music series.

1.5k words.

As always, let me know what you think and also, sorry in advance 🥲🥰

Read on AO3

Elain never would’ve heard him enter the townhouse if it wasn’t for the squeak of the front door opening and closing and the scent of cedar that’s slowly drifting towards her, into the kitchen. A scent that she’s become so keenly attuned to that it overpowers even the smell of the peach tart she just pulled out of the oven minutes ago.

The soft smile that forms on her lips at the anticipation of seeing this particular surprise visitor quickly dissolves into a grimace as she looks down at herself, taking in the state she’s in. She hadn’t been expecting anyone.

It’s late, just past midnight - her dress is dirty, handprints of flour all over the lilac skirt, dark droplets of juice from the peaches she’d been cutting are splattered all over the bodice. Strands of her brown hair have come loose from her braid and the curls are plastered to her sweaty forehead. Despite the relatively cool summer night, the kitchen is almost overwhelmingly warm from the oven - the cold tiles beneath her feet are the only relief from the heat.

All concerns about her appearance cease to matter, however, when she turns around to see Azriel just as he steps into the kitchen. A knot forms in her chest as she surveys him.

The Shadowsingers' usually perfect posture is nowhere to be seen - his broad shoulders are dropped, wings almost dragging on the floor behind him as if he didn’t have the energy to hold them up. His beautiful face, those emerald flecked hazel eyes, hold such sorrow that Elain feels her own heart crack in response.

“I didn’t know anyone was here.” Azriel refuses to look at her, his words barely a whisper as he stares at his feet. He’s dressed in his usual leathers. His heavy black boots, Elain notices, are flecked with dark dried blood.

“Thought I’d let Rhys and Feyre have a night to themselves. Not that their activities change whether I’m there or not. I assume you know what that’s like… living with Cassian and my sister.” She attempts a joke, desperate to lighten his mood.

It doesn’t work. In fact, she fears it’s had the complete opposite effect as she watches him further retreat into himself. His hands flex at his sides before one comes up to brush aside the strands of dark hair over his forehead. She watches as he musters the energy to lift his eyes up to hers for the first time.

“I should go.” Three words and she can feel him slipping away before she’s even had the chance to help.

Elain’s moving then, crossing the kitchen until she’s standing directly in front of him. She reaches for him but he flinches away from her touch. She draws her hand back immediately.

The action hurts but she’s not offended. It’s been awhile since she’s seen him like this. She doesn’t need to ask any questions. She knows exactly what this is. Knows exactly what he’s feeling. He’d sensed the same sorrow in her not all that long ago.

They’d always been this way - so in tune with each other that they never needed words. So fluent in each other’s brand of silence that one look between them said everything that needed to be said.

She meets his eyes again, holds his gaze. Let’s him see that she isn’t looking at him with pity but with understanding.

Azriel doesn’t flinch when she reaches for him the second time.

Elain reaches up, carefully wraps her arms around his neck, draws him down to her slowly. Gives him time to move out of her grasp if he wants. She breathes a sigh of relief when his arms wrap around her waist in return, the weight of his body settling against hers. Elain lets her fingertips drift up to his hair, presses him closer to her.

She knows he needs this, knows how much he wants this. To be touched, to be held. She knows how desperately he craves physical affection even though he’d never dare to ask for it.

“Come upstairs.” The words are muffled, her lips grazing his throat from the way she’s tucked her face in between his shoulder and neck.

She loosens her grip on him, bends back a bit in his arms so she can look at his face - sees the question in his eyes. “There’s no one else here. It’s just us tonight.”

Elain takes his hand in hers, leads him slowly up the stairs - into her room and straight into the attached bathing chamber.

The enchanted fae lights along the wall come to life as they enter, casting the tiled room in soft golden light. She doesn’t say anything as she leaves him standing in the doorway and makes her way over to the large sunken tub. She turns on the tap and pours in an oil that has the air filling with the rich scent of almonds seconds later. She undoes her braid quickly, wraps the length of hair into a knot on the top of her head.

Elain reaches back to undo the laces of her corset but Azriel has made his way to her, his hands softly brushing hers aside as he takes over - fingers slowly uncrossing the laces until her gown is loose enough to slip off. She pushes the mass of fabric behind her with her foot before she turns to face him..

His hazel eyes have softened slightly, those emerald flecks catching the light as he takes in the sight of her bare body, watching her as she begins to undress him.

She removes his jacket and his shirt with a bit of assistance - still not quite used to the workings of the secret flaps that accommodate his wings. She places both hands on his tattooed chest, feeling the warmth of him under her skin. She presses her lips to his heart once, and then lowers herself to her knees. She pulls at the laces of his boots, ignoring the blood there, and waits as he steps out of them. She’s still on her knees when she reaches up and unlaces his leathers, pulling them down and pushing them to the side before she rises and leads him into the bath.

The warm water engulfs them both as they make their way to the centre of the tub. Elain bites her lip at the way Azriel audibly exhales as he finally releases some of the tension in his body. His large hands reach for her hips, callused fingers splaying out over her skin as she presses her palms into the muscles of his chest, his shoulders - massaging out the tight knots she finds as she begins bathing him.

She cleans him thoroughly - his body, his face, his hair. Washes him as if she’s washing away the sins he seems to believe he’s committed. Absolves him with each pass of her hands over his scarred skin. Allows the weariness to pour out from him. Doesn’t say anything when a tear slips from his eye at the gentleness of her touch.

It’s utterly silent save for the echo of the water and the occasional rustling of curtains swaying in the night breeze. Neither of them say a single word until she finishes, until she presses her body against his, places a hand gently on either of his cheeks - the need to feel his skin against hers, to feel close to him, is almost overwhelming.

“Whatever you want, Azriel. Whatever you need from me. It’s yours to take.” Elain tells him quietly.

She means every word.

She would give him anything he asked. Would do anything he asked. She’d offer him her time… her body…. her heart. Anything he wanted. If it would only make him feel better.

Azriel’s arms tighten around her, pulling her impossibly closer. He kisses her cheek but makes no move to take anything further.

“Stay with me.” Elain returns his kiss, her own lips pressing to the underneath of his jaw. “Stay with me tonight. Please.”

Her heart beats a little faster, anxiously awaiting his answer as he goes still in her arms for a split second before he nods slowly.

They’ve never spent a night together. They’ve never had this before - never had the luxury of time. Have only ever taken the rare moments that they find themselves completely alone to quickly, desperately familiarise themselves with each other’s bodies. Neither of them willing to let a single second go to waste.

So tonight they take their time. They dry off, not bothering with clothes before they climb into Elain’s bed. She holds him against her for a while - traces the planes of his face with her fingertip, runs her hands through his hair until his breathing slows and he’s almost asleep, his long eyelashes brush against her chest as his eyelids flutter shut.

The last thing he says before he drifts off to sleep in her arms, only the third thing he’s said to her tonight, is whispered so softly she almost doesn’t hear it over the rustling of sheets as he nestles in closer to her.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Elain’s heart breaks all over again.

#Spotify #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #elriel fic #elriel fanfiction #elriel #pro elriel #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #ao3 #acosf #azriel #acotar fanfiction

[sad-tob]

About Me? Maybe?

I honestly have no idea what I'm doing on this site but here we are I guess

Hey! I'm SadTob, a gay guy who never knows what he's doing at any given moment! I'm still not fully sure how to use this app so bear with me, but I was told to put some communities I want to be a part of and some people I don't want to talk to me (ever), so here we go:

Communities:

x Minecraft

x MCYT

x Terraria

x I'll add more when I remember

x The Magnus Archives

x Pokemon

DNI (pretty self-explanatory):

x Anyone with bigoted views (Homophobia, Transphobia, etc.)

x Antis of the communities I'm in (just let me enjoy my stuff pls if it's genuinely bad I'll find out for myself without someone directly telling me)

x Proshippers/MAPs

x old people (25 - 30 and ur on thin ice, over that just DNI)

x Anyone who makes disorders into aesthetics/'cores'

x Again I'll add more when I can think of more

[hyperfixationsfordays]

word wants to turn my kinktober fic into a sadtober fic.

#fic #funny #I HATE THE DUMB SUGGESTIONS #but word is where i write. so. #i can't even turn them all off at once #i can only turn them off one by one and there's a thousand #anyway i just thought i'd share. #yeah thanks word #i did want to say mac wants to break down

[anotherhraesvelgr]

Sadtober.

[philothewisp]

#sadtober. Day 24. Sad Sunday https://www.instagram.com/p/CVZfH2IrL9Z/?utm_medium=tumblr

#sadtober

[kozmiknougat]

inktober bebi!! 

#inktober #inktober2020 #sadtober #fish #illustration #drawing #lineart #traditional art #worms #sadboy #emo #longarms #heartbreak #heartbroken #itwillgetgetter #taika

[plueschpop]

let me help you • homeless!tony

"... I don’t care if he’s busy, tell him to-" Peter stopped talking mid-sentence, he had to gain his balance back after nearly kissing the floor. "Sorry, I’m going to call you back later. I’m busy." He put his phone away and crouched down in front of the person he stumbled over.

"Sir? Are you alright? Can I do something for you?"

The older man let out a sigh. "Just leave me alone, kid. I’m going to die soon and I don’t need anyone involved." He turned away. Peter knew that voice. But that can’t be.. "Mr. Stark? Is that you? Oh my god, I thought you disappeared, it was all over the news." Peter paused his rambling. "Wait sorry, but how can I help you? I won’t let you freeze to death. You are the man of my dreams so no, you’re gonna get your ass up right now and let me help you." The young man held out his hand, waiting for the once so famous Tony Stark to take it and he did.

Nici’s october moodboards 🎃

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #starker moodboard #nici‘s october moodboards #part 21 #homeless!tony #this is kinda inspired by starker-owns-this-bitch #but I wanted to make petey pie an amazing business man #sadtober #october 2019 #peter is an adult obvisiously #not my pics obvs 💁🏻‍♀️

[dan2078]

Day 7 Spoon girl is here. I think I’m being to merciful on swapfell, what do you think?

#little nightmares #spoon girl #angstober #sadtober #little nightmare fanart #the girl with pigtails

[dabsnoestadisponible]

Sadtober Vol 1. pag 16 - 20.

#draw #dabsart #drawing #dibujo #comic #dabs #webcomic #ilustracion #ilustration #dabsnoestadisponible #sadtober #sadtober vol 1 #jose #jose juan calavera

[gogirl786]

#SciFitober Day 27: Sad Robot Oh no! . . #lizbethsketchbookchallenge#oc#sadrobot#inktober#drawtober#sadtober#artistofinstagram#artistsoninstagram#inkart#smallinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CG3WsHxrC5C/?igshid=8edfi93l5dr

#scifitober #lizbethsketchbookchallenge #oc #sadrobot #inktober #drawtober #sadtober #artistofinstagram #artistsoninstagram #inkart #smallinstagram

[maracozzolino]

I guess my #inktober2019 reflects this month mood #sadtober: a parte gli scherzi, un aggiornamento sul corso di disegno con la biro del 16 e 17 novembre: è possibile partecipare alla sola giornata introduttiva di sabato oppure tornare anche la domenica per la full immersion sul colore #workshop #ballpointpendrawing #disegniconlabiro #disegniniconlabiro #biro #ballpointpenart #artist #moleskine #fleabag #phoebewallerbridge #bic4colori (at Borgo Medievale Avigliana) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4CyrT2IGoz/?igshid=1ghtw0tk4nd7z

#inktober2019 #sadtober #workshop #ballpointpendrawing #disegniconlabiro #disegniniconlabiro #biro #ballpointpenart #artist #moleskine #fleabag #phoebewallerbridge #bic4colori

[sox-in-fox]

Goretober Day 8 (late), Overgrown

If there was one thing that Carl hated, it was these damned vines. His great-great-grandmother had thought this was a harmless, pretty little plant when she planted it beside the front door of the family homestead right after her husband came home from the Civil War. He had been bruised, beaten, and tattered. His grey uniform had been more sewn together patches than original uniform. There were scraps of it and his great-great-grandmother’s wedding dress sewn into a quilt that his mother had put away in a cedar chest back in the day. She had done it in the hopes that Carl would get married and she could present it to his wife. But Carl had come home from Vietnam, lived in the back bedroom of his parent’s house, and when they died it had become his house. 

The house had gone through his family for generations. It was his now. Before him were his parents, his mother had been a school teacher and his father a sheriff’s deputy in their small town. Before them had been his father’s parents, working the land as farmers. Then his great grandparents, who had their farm but also animals. His great-great-grandparents had been modest farmers as well, carving out their little piece of Georgia soil. The land was farmed out and sold. Carl had been able to have a small, personal garden though. It was a pleasant distraction once he had gotten home. Now he kept it up out of enjoyment. He enjoyed weeding the small rows and watering the patch. 

The only thing that he hated were those damned vines. They grew thick over the entrance to the house and they reminded him of the jungles of Vietnam. They would rustle every so often and he could have sworn that there was one of those damned snipers in there, just waiting to come and get him. Even now, all these years later, it still puts a jump in him. So, every spring and summer, he cut that vine down any time it started getting a little too unruly. Every year it seemed to grow faster and faster. 

He had noticed that he was starting to have to cut the vines every day now. They kept creeping their way up the front of the house, digging into the walls and trying to writhe up underneath the windows. He knew that this had to be some sort of invasive plant, but every time he had someone out to look at it and tell him how to kill it, they never knew quite what it was. The guesses had been everywhere from several different sorts of ivy, kudzu, and a jasmine vine. They had told him the different ways to kill it, but there wasn’t a way that worked. Not a single one.

When he woke up that morning, the entire front of the house was covered. The sunlight streaming through the leaves made the entire living room look green. He thought he could smell the mud and hear the soft sounds of the jungle. He quickly made his way out of the back door to tend to his garden, only to find it had been taken over by the vines. He howled in rage and began ripping at the vines with his bare hands.

After fully decimating the vines for the entire day, he went inside to lay in bed, quickly falling asleep. 

It happened the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Until one day, the sun was streaming through the windows and voices began floating into the home. Carl sat up on the couch, wondering who cut the vines and hoping that he was going to be able to give them a proper thank you.

“Charlie… This place is amazing. It is like a time capsule!” A female voice exclaimed. “Yeah. According to the bank, the place hasn’t been lived in since the 90s. The guy had been living alone since 75 when his parents died. The guy at the bank said the old guy just up and left one day. It was a shame too, apparently. His family had been living in the town since it was founded.” The man, presumably Charlie said.

Carl was puzzled. He was right there on the couch. He could hear these people as plain as day.

The couple walked in. She had her hair under a bright yellow bandanna and he was wearing work pants. They looked to be in their mid-20s and very excited. Carl attempted to speak to them, but they completely ignored him. He was getting angry. How DARE these kids come into HIS house, BREAK IN no less? And then completely ignore him!

“Charlie… There are plates and dishes in the sink…” The woman sounded worried now. “Well, when the bank said the guy just up and left, I guess they really meant it. I’ll need to get rid of that vine. It is going to take chunks out of the brick. Looks like it hasn’t been touched in at least 20 years.”

Carl was even more puzzled and even angrier. He had been ripping that vine down for the past 30 years! 

“Let’s check the bedrooms.” Charlie had said, coming back into the living room and into the hallway. The woman was close behind. 

Carl stood, making to follow them. He was still trying to get their attention and still being ignored. He had half a mind to get his shotgun and scare them out of the---

The woman in the bright yellow bandanna screamed. 

Charlie pulled something about the size of a memo book out of his pocket and began poking at it with his finger. He put it up to his ear and began to frantically talk to someone on the other line. He said something about finding a body. An old body. An old body with a shotgun. One that had been there for at least 20 years.

Carl looked around the man named Charlie and memories came flooding back.

Carl had sat down on the edge of his bed and tossed the handful of pills into his mouth, taking a large gulp of water from the glass beside him. He sighed and swung his legs up onto the bed, taking his shotgun in his hand. He was very diligent about the care of it, just like he had been over there. That was one of the many things that had followed him out of that place. He held it on his chest in his hands, his finger on the trigger. He wanted to wait a little while until the pills started to take over. He positioned the shotgun in the hollow under his chin and pulled the trigger, spraying bits of brain, skull, skin, and hair across the wall behind him in some sort of strange abstract art.

Over time, the vine began to take over the house, hiding it from view. No one really ever came to check on Carl, so the bank just assumed he had split and took over control of the house. All the while, Carl was there in bed, waiting to be found.

The woman in the bright yellow bandanna cried for Carl. Charlie put an arm around her and held her tightly, trying to comfort her. They came and took his body. A flag was put on his coffin and was given to Charlie and his wife. They wanted to keep pieces of Carl in his house. That meant a lot to him. 

Carl lived out his days there, watching the young couple change his home. He couldn’t be mad at them, though. Charlie was good about getting rid of the vine.

#goretober #goretober 2019 #woodys-aesthetics #writing #my writing #suicide #sadtober #slightly happy ending

[beatrizfletes]

#inktober #inktober2018 #Illustration #ilustración #drawing #dibujo #ink #sadtober #tears #sad #illustrators on tumblr #female illustrators #artists on tumblr #art #texture