Weirdcore Drawing Ideas Novels & Stories

Don't forget to drop your comments, most especially what you anticipate for the sequel. I drop my pen. I AM NOTHING BUT A PENCIL IN THE HAND OF THE CREATOR. LOVE YOU ALL

Waddlebug asked, his bushy eyebrows knit together in confusion. “She’s consented!” Corey exclaimed, unable to keep the foolish grin off of his face. “Can you believe it? My ridiculous plan has actually worked!” Mr. Waddlebug was obviously confused. “But… if you knew it was ridiculous, why did you do it?” Corey didn’t bother with an answer. Instead, he drew a quill out of the jar where they were positioned on the desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and dipping his utensil into the ink pot wrote quickly but neatly:

But they all grabbed a marker pen and started drawing anywhere they could reach. They all seemed to know what they were drawing. When they finished drawing their individual pictures, they went to a larger blank wall. Where Max drew a big circle, Eden then drew a slightly smaller circle inside of it. Before Jaxon drew some lines connecting the circles. It made it look a little like a clock. But Eden added some wavy lines at the bottom of it. When they finished, they went to a sofa, curled up with Evie and cried. I looked at their pictures. Max had drawn a man’s shaver but with small lightening bolts coming off it, Jaxon had drawn a bucket and Eden had drawn a knife.

I'd define it as, Old boring selves. I was tired of doing nothing once again. It was almost more than half month since I had agreed to his deal, and I was tired of going around each hall everyday trying to pass my time. I swear, if anyone asks me about this whole apartment, I could even tell slightest detail of each wall. Either that, or I spend my time sleeping. Today, I was getting furious of this boring day. So, I decided to do something. I was going through some usual posts on my i*******m when I saw a beautiful drawing made by someone.

I still have a class to catch. I arrived at school and it’s so boring. The professor sounded like a lullaby when discussing, causing me to gently close my eyes. The words were inaudible and I couldn’t seem to focus. This isn’t the first time, and I need to do something to kill the time. I started drawing to ease my boredom. I just freely drew what came into my mind, and to my surprise, it was Taddeio. The guy who saved me from danger. I had annoyingly crumpled the scratch paper and was about to throw it away when I realized I was in the classroom and this was not my room. I sighed in relief when no one noticed what I was about to do. I hit myself with a pen and continually remind myself how

And tonight, her mind was unusually busy. The competition. The next round. Her future. Everything seemed to be changing little by little. Naomi picked up a stack of old sketchbooks. Most of them were filled with practice drawings. Faces. Buildings. Flowers. Random ideas. Years of work. Years of growth. She smiled as she flipped through them. Some drawings were good. Some were terrible. Very terrible. She laughed softly. "I really drew this?" The proportions were completely wrong. The eyes looked strange. The hands looked even worse.

It swirled in lazy patterns with every step I took, making it obvious no one had been in here for years. The stillness in the air felt heavy and untouched, as if the room itself had been holding its breath, waiting for someone to return and disturb it. Drawings covered the walls, some pinned haphazardly while others were curled at the edges where the adhesive had failed. They depicted all kinds of things, but the majority were creatures twisted, nightmarish things with too many limbs, hollow eyes and gaping mouths lined with jagged teeth. Among the creatures were strange Landscapes places that looked warped and wrong, as if reality had stretched too thin. There were also people, some drawn i

I felt the falling temperature as well and noticed that there must something terrible happened, so I said to her: "Well, Miss Isabella, if it's hard to say you could just ignore me will be alright." Isabella, who had been silent at first, suddenly interrupted me, then changed back to her sloppy appearance at the beginning and said: "Weirdness is the result of the unwillingness of people after death, the spiritual wisdom born after a hundred years of immortality, and the rumours spread by word of mouth. In the final analysis, weirdness is the existence of hatred and resentment, do you understand, little cutie."

Honestly, it all started out with good intentions, I swear. Math class was awfully boring that day. We were sitting in algebra two learning the properties of parabolas. What started off as a math problem quickly turned into a piece of art and a bad idea. Kelly Anders was a quiet girl, with long straight brown hair and a nice pair of blue eyes, who was well known for being a bit of an outcast like me. She also happened to have a fear of crawly things. I sketched out a worm that had no teeth, knowing full well that I was pushing the boundaries, and gave it some details and shading. The whole process took about two minutes, creating a worm about four inches long with a head that was slightly la

All they did in my class was practice adding and subtracting. Mom got a funny look on her face when I told her that I like to draw during math. While the other kids werre counting on their fingers I would pretend to be working in my workbook. Truthfully, I was sketching. I had some cool drawings in that workbook, hidden way in the back. I like to draw weather events, uncontrolled power unleashed on unsuspecting souls. I liked hurricanes and tornadoes the best. I loved the power a storm generated. The inevitable destruction it would cause was fun to try to put on paper. Sometimes I would see a storm raging in my mind and I could barely draw fast enough to get all the details on the page