#Let me know your thoughts!

[ray935sworld]

Okay... After an intense discussion with my brother, I decided to asked the council of knowledge (tumblr)

[houseofoddballs]

OK, wow, a lot of you really wanted to go for the "good" ending, right? Well, I'm sorry, but there was no good ending. Enjoy my little oddballs! Final word count is about 2,400 words!

Tw: aggression, angst, emotional hurt, vulgarity, physical abuse? Tell me If there are more to add!

This wasn't working. You stood inside your bathroom, propped against the sink as you stared into your own eyes. They just looked so sad now, so hollow. You could remember Simon cupping your cheek as he stared into your eyes under starlight and murmured against your lips how much he loved seeing them light up around him.

What you wouldn't give to have that again. Staring up at the stars with Simon, his fingers brushing through your hair. You missed the soft mumbled apologies whenever he would catch a snag, and the way he focused on you more than any silly constellation.

"Why stars?" You had asked him, on probably the third date where he took you stargazing with either a picnic or just some takeout. I mean, this was Simon after all. Deep, brooding, knew all of the vital organs and arteries on the human body, etc. He didn’t exactly seem like the soft stargazing type, especially with as clumsy as he was at romance.

You were met with a gruff grunt and a shrug at the time. But later, once you two had eaten and were just laying back together, hand in hand, he answered your question. "'S because no matter where I'm deployed, I know I'm always lookin' up at the same sky as you."

You were snapped back to reality by a sharp rap at your door and the voice of a Scottsman who you had began to secretly loathe. "Aye, lass, ya' mind bringin' up the wheely bin? Ghost said he would take the trash out if ya do." A soft sigh was leaving your lips before you could even process his words, turning away from the reflection of your despondent hollow eyes.

Snow crunched under your feet as you trekked out of the garrage to fetch the trash bin from its place next to the mailbox. Cold seeped through the thin layers of your clothing, a frigid therapy to clear your mind and remind you that you were alive. It was uncomfortable, but in the most comfortable and enveloping sort of way. Like a hug that lasts a bit too long from someone who you know just wants to help.

Hugs. You missed those.

Your eyes flicked up to the night sky, moving between the stars like a pachinko ball bouncing off of celestial pegs. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time to put yourself first for a change. The very thought made your stomach twist and churn with guilt, but you were far beyond guilt at this point. It wasn't healthy for you to spend afternoons sitting on your floor with you back pressed against the door so you could just listen to Soap and Simon talk without intruding on their time. It wasn't healthy for you to make yourself dissappear just to please an overgrown child. It wasn't healthy for you to beat yourself up over standing up for yourself and what you needed.

So, this was it. You had to be done. Simon had been given more than enough chances to put you first, and he hadn't taken any of them. Simon had simply stayed off to the side complacently as Johnny pushed you further and further away. So beit then.

Soap won.

You didn't bother packing most of your stuff knowing that it would only make it harder to leave, and if you let yourself think about it too much then you were going to stay trapped, haunting their broken relationship. No.

Your favorite clothes, toiletries, and other things went into your suitcase as you finally decided to free yourself. With every item you packed, it felt like another link was cut from the chain that was wrapped around your neck, trapping you here. And yet, there is terror that comes with freedom. You canceled your phone plan that night and waited until Ghost and Johnny went to bed to make your move.

Guttural grunts and lewd moans were your signal to move, rolling your eyes as you left a single sheet of paper folded neatly on your bed. Neither of them hardly ever came to check on you, so you reckoned that you had at least a week before even Simon noticed your absence. Unless, of course, Johnny noticed your car missing. But, even if he did, it didn't matter. This was it.

"Goodby, Simon. I loved you."

And then you were gone. Tossing your suitcase in the back and driving off into the night. The stars were, and always would be, a painful reminder of Simon. But they say that time heals all wounds. You would just have to test that.

no. No. NO. NO!

Simon's hands trembled as they clutched the small piece of paper from you pillows, eyes tracing over and reading each line until he couldn’t make out the words through the tears welling in his eyes.

Gone. You were gone.

His angel, his sweet, his world, his everything. As much as he tried to fool himself into asking why, he knew the answer.

Simon loved you desperately. After everything that had happened to him, his father, losing his family, being buried alive, being hung by his ribs, all of it; after all of it was when he had met you, and Ghost felt truly alive in a manner he had never felt before.

There were quite a few differences between feeling alive in the heat of battle and feeling alive with someone you love, and yet, both of them made Ghost acutely aware of his pounding heart, both of them made Ghost's stomach twist up in knots, both of them brought blood to Ghost's face.

And Ghost wouldn't have had it any other way. Ghost had spent so long being Ghost, that he was starting to forget who Simon was. But you changed that. A simple holiday with Price, that was all it took for him to meet and fall so ridiculously in love with you that he walked around base with a dopy grin under his Skull balaclava at the thought of you texting him.

As Simon numbly sat on the edge of your bed, clutching so tight to the paper that he was afraid it might shred, your entire relationship flashed before his eyes.

Your first date, your first hug, your first kiss, your first time, When he told you his real name, the first time he took off his mask in front of you, the first time he broke down to you. How could he have been such an idiot?

Simon tired to think back on His and Johnny's relationship in a similar way, but it just wasn't the same. They had been great friends in the task force already, so when they were both captured together, of course that was when things had to change.

Sure, he had fallen for Johnny's kind words and beautiful eyes when they were tied together and bleeding on the cold concrete. Ghost should have known better!! But when the stubborn Scottsman confessed so sweetly so that he wouldn't die with any regrets, well, it was hard not to feel touched.

But they just weren't compatible.

Johnny was loud, immature, selfish, didn't think very far ahead, and he was just so clingy. And, yet the thought of leaving him made Simon's heart ache whenever he thought about it. Johnny didn't treat him like he was in love, but Ghost was sure that Soap loved him in his own way.

But it wasn't worth this. He tried calling you, searching for you, emailing you for the queen's sake! But he found nothing. You had been so isolated that you didn't really have any friends that Simon knew of. He was just lost.

He should have taken the ache of being honest with John over this overwhelmingly hollow torment in his chest. When you left, you took hardly anything, but you took everything from Simon.

The world became colorless, music lost it's rhythm, food lost it's taste, life lost its luster. And Johnny? Well, he became a lot harder to tolerate.

"Did ya hear their makin' a new-" "Not now Johnny." It was like he didn't care. Didn't care that you were gone, didn't care how badly Simon was hurting. "Is this about the lass again? Look, I'm sorry Si, but it's not your fault she didn't care enought-"

"Shut up." Soap looked at Ghost in shock for a moment, a brow quirking up. "What?" "You heard me." Now Johnny's brows were furrowing, his lips setting into that stairght line that meant he was about to win.

Something about Soap? He was impossible to argue with. He would argue in circles to the point where it didn't matter which side he was on as long as he won, which was incredibly frustrating to say the least and made any arguments completely pointless because he would win in the end out of sheer exasperation. It was just easier that way. But not this time.

"Shut. Up." "Look, ya' ken nae go blamin' me for the way she left! She-" Simon was up in an instant, a hand around Soaps throat, effectively shutting him up and pinning him to the wall. Johnny reached up and clawed at his wrist as Simon squeezed just a bit too tight, he could feel Johnny's windpipe being crushed into itself. But he didn't care. Not right now.

"You absolute fuckin' nubty. You just don't get it, do you? Well, seargant, let me spell it out for you, you dense fuck." Simon's eyes were burning, but this wasn't Simon anymore. He could almost feel his balaclava over his face as he glowered down at Soap, eyes filled with disdain and mallace. This was Ghost, someone who hadn't been out to play in years, despite the name sticking around.

Soap winced as Ghost tightened his grip even further, a snarl meeting his lips as he spoke. "She was MINE. And I was hers. We'll use a pie for the sake of your small. Fucking. Brain." Each venomous word was punctuated with a twitch of Ghost's hand, a lingering desire to just squeeze all of the life out of Soap right here and now.

He could see Soaps eyes rolling back as dark spots were inevitably clouding them. That was no good. He had to be awake for what Simon had to say. Ghost loosened his grip just enough to allow Soap the bare minimum of blood and oxygen before delivering a harsh slap across his face with his free hand.

"Ah ah ah sausage, stay with me. So, the pie. She goes and gets a third of the pie because I'm in the military and she doesn't get to see my beautiful mug very often. Then, she hears that I'm coming home for good. She gets all of that delicious pie. Ya' followin' me Johnny?" A strangled nodd. Good. Ghost didn't care about the strangled noises leaving soap or the way that tears pricked his eyes.

"Good boy Johnny. So, she thinks she's getting all of this pie that I am. And then, I come back toting your arse along like some fucking new pet. Well, now she thinks she only gets half of the pie. But she still agrees because she was a fucking angel." Ghost's voice was cold again, filled with the same gruffness that the military had imparted into him.

Ghost hadn't been out in ages. It felt good. Ghost could feel Soaps pulse under his fingers, feel his lifeblood. It was intoxicating. He loved that look of pure terror, missed people looking at him like the monster he was.

"Except, instead of half of the pie, she's still only getting a third, because SOMEONE is a greedy fucking pig. Wonder who that is, Johnny?" Ghost cocked his head to the side as he dug his nails into the flesh of Johnny's neck, reveling in the way that he winced.

"And then what happens? This little piggy goes and takes even more of the fuckin pie. You just keep taking and taking and TAKING until all that was left was fucking crumbs. Do you get it now? You fucking muppet."

Soap nodded furiously as he gripped Ghost's wrist, trying desperately to pull him off. But it wasn't Ghost's fault Johnny hadn't been working out as much. Five years ago he would have at least been able to put up a fight. This was just pathetic to Ghost.

"And so, she lapped at your fucking crumbs like the good girl she was, because she fucking loved me. Do you love me Johnny?" Ghost cut off Soaps nodding with a glare. "I know your cock does, but that's not what I'm asking. Do YOU love me? Because I don't think you do. I think you love having someone complacent to you. You love thinking you have complete control and having everything bend to your fucking whim."

Ghost pulled away finally, letting Soap crumple to the ground coughing and clutching his neck. Ghost just shook his head and made his way to the door, grabbing the keys to his jeep off the rack and his familiar skull balaclava as he did so.

"Pick yourself up. Shits about to change, and I'm done letting you walk all over me. You better hope I find my girl again, or you better be gone when I come back. Your choice Johnny."

It wasn't good, wasn't healthy by any means, but everyone had a breaking point.

And you? What did you do? You lived. Love was definitely off of the table, but you managed to find a place to stay with a nice landlord who helped you find a job in your new small town. A nice older gentleman with sandy chops and a fatherly disposition. He became your best friend. Romance was dead to you at this point, but he was just so gentlemanly and sweet.

Little did you know that Price had forbid Simon and Johnny from your life after what you told him. He was protecting you in more ways than you knew from both the devil you knew and the devil you thought you knew. Simon was ravenous, like a rabbid dog desperately trying to get to you. But Price wasn't going to let him hurt you anymore.

And he didn't.

[fairene]

https://www.tumblr.com/fairene/754827469597589504/beneath-the-moonlight-ln4?source=share

I LOVED THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

I'M BEGGING GIVE US A PART 2

omg...if enough people really want a part two, i'll seriously consider it!!! i wasn't planning on it, but it is left rather vague on max's reaction. i'm open to any suggestion loves!

[pocket-watcher]

So I saw you like The Smiler and take requests, which is great because I also love The Smiler. Would you be interested in writing a Doctor from the Ministry of Joy kidnapping and marmalizing the POV, please? Smile always!

Hi anon! It would be my pleasure…

You awoke in a darkened room. What the hell?

The last thing you remembered was… hmm… you were on a trip somewhere, but then what? Someone had appeared behind you. Chloroform?

You had felt your body grow tired. Weak in their arms.

You’d sworn their eyes were spiralling. They smiled as they watched yours close as everything around you faded to black.

Thoughts for another time. Let’s escape first, you thought, scanning the room. The dim light wasn’t helping, though.

You tried to stand but felt something holding you in place. Luckily, your arms were free from the contraption. You pushed at whatever was over your chest but it wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly a bright white light turned on. You flinched away from it.

“Ministry of Joy logs: 75128. Subject seems in stable condition. Beginning experiment now.”

The voice echoed through what sounded like speakers. You opened your eyes to investigate and were shocked at the sudden bright yellow and black assaulting your vision.

Spirals, all over the walls, in the shape of a smiling face.

You looked down at the thick yellow bars holding you back. Now that there was light you might be able to see a lever, or clasp, something to unlock it.

Part of the wall opened and someone stepped through.

“Ah. Good. Seems you’re ready to begin.”

They spoke with the same voice you’d heard over the speaker.

“Where am I?!” You demanded. You watched the wall close, your way out of there now blocked.

“All in due time.” They pulled a small recording device out of the pocket and clicked it. “I am about to begin the marmalisation process, version 3. This system includes auditory, visual, olfactory, and physical. Standing by.”

Marmalisation?

The doctor made some sort of signal, were there cameras in here? And the room began to fill with gas.

You struggled, coughing, before trying to hold your breath. You saw the doctor smile.

Another signal, and the bright light flicked off. And on. And off again. Flashing rapidly, repeatedly, shocking your eyes.

The walls and their spiral pattern almost appeared to move each time the lights turned on. You stared, mouth still tightly closed as the smoke danced around the room. As the spirals drew you in.

You were starting to slip. How long could the average person hold their breath? You were sure whatever it was you couldn’t do it for half that time.

Eventually you had to breathe in, twisting your head to breathe up away from the gas as much as possible.

It smelled… sweet. Nostalgic. You felt yourself smile slightly, before your conscious brain caught up with you. Reminisce later, focus on escaping now.

You knew you were screwed when you caught a glimpse of the doctor smiling. That’s when speakers came to life once more.

“The Ministry of Joy thanks you for your participation.”

“Remember to smile!”

“You want to be happy.”

“It feels so nice to laugh.”

“Give in to joy.”

You felt the gas fill your lungs. Your eyes, half lidded, searched for the centre of the spiral. Your mouth stretched into an unconscious smile.

What had you been doing? You couldn’t recall. You were struggling, but why would you be doing that when it felt so natural to just sit and to smile.

Resistance was never an option.

Off to one side you were vaguely aware of the doctor poking and prodding you, shining a light into your eyes, scribbling onto his clipboard.

But you didn’t mind. You just sat there, happy to keep staring, smiling, and obeying.

“Excellent. But I’m sure you could go deeper, yes? Let’s move on to phase 2.” The doctor grinned at you. “Someone prepare The Smiler!”

[sincerelywhistler]

For science, of course ;)

[tomfowlery]

Eager to share some moodboards I've done recently, based on original characters for my story, Sanguinary. Not much I can divulge yet, but I hope you enjoy the selection here and the quotes I've written!

[raginglesbian2006]

ok, so whilst I'm working on my Alastor fic...

hear me out, mafia! lucifer x reader (enemies to lovers)

[lisannastraussisanangel]

any headcanons on levy’s childhood? we have nothing about her in canon 😭

I've got a few! Does anyone know how old Levy was when she joined FT? I feel like she was younger than the others but that might just be because she's tiny

Anyway...

Her parents were both professors at a local university. Both of them were extremely intelligent

Her father specifically was a literature professor and had their entire house covered in books

Levy was really young when her parents died so she doesn't remember much about them or specifics, but she remembers them being very loving

Levy was a child prodigy. By the time she was five she could already speak 3 languages and read at an adult level

Levy looks just like her mother. Like almost exactly her twin. The only difference is that Levy has her fathers eyes

There was an orange tree in front of Levy's home and as a kid she used to climb up and pick the fruit. She fell pretty hard once and broke her arm but that didn't stop her from climbing back up as soon as she was healed

Her parents were both mages but not part of an official guild. They really only used magic when they had to, but they encouraged Levy to join a guild and find her own path

They were big fans of the Fairy Tail Guild and would tell Levy stories about their run ins with its mages (They used to joke that if they had been stronger mages that they would've joined ft)

Levy's mom died from a genetic disease (maybe cancer but Levy just remembers her getting sicker and sicker)

Levy's dad was killed when he helped some mages with a request. He needed the extra money after her moms death, but wasn't physically strong enough to survive the fight

Levy decided after that to find Fairy Tail and would work minor translating jobs to earn money on her journey

She picked up Jet and Droy along the way (the boys had no survival skills and she was their savior) and brought them with her (the trio was inseparable after this)

[lightning24680]

ᴅᴏ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ? ᴄʜ.1

Hi guys here is the first chapter, of my soukoku fic where Chuuya goes back in time to stop Dazai from leaving the Port Mafia. This is not going to be accurate to canon timeline, since this is my own fic it will follow whatever crazy plot/ timeline I create lol. I will be doing my best to keep the characters not OOC, however if there are some OOC moments sorry! Without further ado enjoy!!! Let me know what you think! ~Lighting 24680

It was a dark night on the streets of Yokohama. Fog covering the stillness of the water under that fateful bridge where a certain bandaged soul had found a men-tee of who with that encounter had found a family and a home. This bandaged soul of course has a name, a name both feared and respected even in the darkest parts of the city where only the dangerous and gifted go. That name is Dazai Osamu, and for Dazai's men-tee Atsushi and co-worker Ranpo it was a name invoked to aggravate the dark and dangerous such as a certain Port Mafia executive and the Port Mafias "dog". Of course for a person as calculating and broken as Dazai he was given a title to fit after all as the former youngest executive of the Port Mafia he didn't make it with nothing to show for it. The Demon Prodigy didn't make it there without memories that haunt even him.

Only one person had ever come close to understanding the complicated and hidden mystery of the person behind the mask of the Demon Prodigy. Of understanding Osamu. That title was a facade hated by it's owner as much as it's owner hates himself. For all his faked exuberance and mischievousness with a smile perfectly crafted to never slip, Dazai is disturbingly emotionless with an intelligence that had and will save him and the agency from destruction countless times. He's emotionless in the way that a mirror in a dark room will always show you a reflection but it will be shrouded in shadow. Until with no warning the door to the room is opened and cracks of light shine on the mirror and suddenly your eyes that were dull and blank now have light in them and for a moment you can see into the mirror before the door is slammed shut again.

There was only two people who had been able to open that door before and only one remaining who still can. This person as you can imagine is special to Dazai, not that he'd ever willingly admit to his rival being able to see him in a way only one other person has, not that he'd ever admit to caring for the Port Mafia executive he'd once called his partner. No he'd never admit to caring for Nakahara Chuuya...at least not by saying it outright.

Currently said executive is speeding along the roads in a red glow telling of his ability "𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜" a set look laid upon his face as he drove on his beloved motorcycle to the looming tower of the Port Mafia headquarters where he had been summoned from a mission by his boss, the bastard leader of the Port Mafia Mori Ougai. As Chuuya slid off his motorcycle and sped through the doors and into the elevator,blood left over from his previous mission slowly dripping down his coat he wondered what his boss had called him for he'd asked well not really it was more of a demand than anything to come meet with him immediately. Chuuya's face went hard with wondering what was so horrible that his boss had demanded him to immediately meet him.

As the elevator dinged and opened letting him onto the floor where his boss' door faced him. As Chuuya opened the door he found his boss sitting at his desk awaiting him. Before Chuuya could sit down or ask Mori what was happening and what he needed to do three words left Mori's mouth that left Chuuya stiff and shocked still, dread and irritation filling him. "It's about Dazai".

[paranormalbadboyfiles]

Okay so,

We are gen’ing on main! Let’s get into the theories! Let me know yours too :3  ~*Under the Cut*~ (long post incoming!) Non-Circled Items - Visible Text: Words, clockwise - Visible Text: Numbers, clockwise Circled Items - White Numbers(1-18) - Green Numbers (1-5) - Red Numbers (1-4) - Orange Numbers (1-2)

~*Non-Circled Items*~ Visible Text: Words, clockwise Left - Magma - Theory - Theory #4 -  Escaped monkey (there is at least on often reported on YouTube story about this) -  Shockwave Top -  M on the left is the Mystery Files logo. -  Exhaustion. -  Volcanic gas. - The body disintegrated. (Another tale of spontaneous human combustion maybe?) -  A belch, methane(?) Right - Theory #3(?) Bottom - Theory #2 Center - Suspect #1 - Unknown - Rip Van Winkle Visible Text: Numbers, clockwise Left -  2007 (the year, I’m presuming) Top -  $160k Right -  80 million trees Bottom -  $100,000 Center -  2005 (the year, I think)  - 500,000 acres ~*Circled Items*~  White Numbers(1-18) 1. Looks like some kind of machine-type thing? See number 12. 2. Letter J. See number 13. JK = Just kidding? 3. Nuclear explosion icon? 4. Mobile phone. Randonautica? (Ryan did an ad for them awhile back during the same season where he tied himself up for an AYS promo shoot). There's one very uh...dark story that occurred with this app that's been heavily covered on YouTube. 5. Under water nuclear explosion? Underwater volcano? (The words "magma" and "volcanic gas" are also on there). 6. A Tumblr-looking "T." I AM my fear.  7. PBS is provided by support from Internet content viewers like you. Thank you! 8. Chipmunk? Beaver? Groundhog? Or do I have the paredolia? 9. Suspect #1, right under a picture of Ryan. 10. "Public Enemy" written across a picture of Ryan on PH set. 11. A little Professor sticker peeking behind Number 10. 12. A machine looking thing? Inner mechanisms of a watch? Possibly related to number 1? 13. Letter K. See number 2. JK = Just kidding? 14. I looked up the "Evergreen State" and it's Washington. 15. A heart. See number 18. 16. Looks like a generic "person" graphic similar to one used in BFU. Sunglasses on top. Why? Finally the Buzzfeed tea? 17. A rosary? 18. Another heart. See number 15. Green Numbers (1-5) All of these are connected together by green string 1. Insect? 4 legs? Multiple antennae? I fear the buggy cryptids D: 2. Musical notes.   3. M is the Mystery Files logo.  4. $500,000 acres.  5. Mystery Files is the title.  Red Numbers (1-4) All of these are connected together by red string 1. Post-explosion site?  2. Nuclear explosion?  3. Text: Volcanic gas.  4. Football  Orange Numbers (1-2) 1. Thumbtack, right next to the left edge of the board.  2. Thumbtack, right beneath the top edge of the board.

[ray935sworld]

Luca is the secret love child, you idiot! (Lucalex)

please please please tell me more I'm intrigued

OH, this one is my current favorite! It will definetly be published. Here is the beginning:

Luca hadn’t answer his phone for almost 4 days now. Of course, Alex would just assume that the Italian needed some time for himself or he was busy with the academy. After all, he was with all of them together for the first time in months and there was no race ahead. Surely they had a lot to discuss.

But even then, he had always texted him. He had given him a little heads up like “Sorry amore, it’s so busy, probably won’t write much in the next days” or “I need a few days to myself (not because of you). I will call you soon, okay?”. But no messages, no warning, nothing had been the absolute worst. It had actually made him worry.

Maybe something had happened during training. Maybe he had been hurt – seriously hurt – and the academy boys had decided not to inform him to make sure they had a stable condition for Alex to tell. After all, they were friendly, now that Marc was dating Vale again.

Marc was also with them. Would he tell him? Surely. He wouldn’t keep something like that a secret. It’d be cruel… He shook his head, refusing to believe anything his worried mind supplied. Instead he had decided to text Marc.

And finally he had an answer.

He just hated that answer even more.

It were 3 text. The first one read. “Alex, I am so sorry, please stay calm. We’ll figure this out, okay?” Then there was a picture of a child. It was a cute little boy. His blond hair was hanging in his face and his blue eyes were darted at the camera. He waved at him. He was sitting in Vale’s lap. It was obviously a newly taken picture.

The last text read “That’s Luca’s”.

That kid was Luca’s? He stared at the picture. The same hair. The same eyes. The same kind smile. No doubt. That child had his boyfriends DNA.

He felt his heart peak. His heart was racing and so was his mind. The boy was small. He was young. Maybe 3 or 4. But… He and Luca had been dating for 6 years now. They had been dating since they were young adults, still teenagers. They may have dated in secret and for a long time the long distance and hiding from their brothers and the world had felt like they weren’t really together, but they had been.

And Luca had fathered a child during that time. Luca had cheated on him. That’s why he hadn’t answered his texts or call. He had been with his son. And for some reason his brother had known.

He didn’t reply. Instead he took his backpack, threw some food and water inside, took Shira and Stitch and the keys before heading for the car. They’d be going to Tavuilla to get some answers.

[erigold13261]

Anyone have color headcanons for the Spiderpeople in the NSR universe? Like hair, skin, and eye colors? (at the very least skin and hair color).

I don't think you have to worry about certain colors representing human skin colors because NSR seems to not really matter in that regard (like in some media blue or green might be coding for darker skin tones, but in NSR I'm pretty sure it's a free-for-all).

[kedakirahei]

i just had an idea.

so i've been getting back into Wings of Fire [specifically reading the Pantala continent books], and i thought 'what if the othermind was in rain world?' and like. CAN YOU IMAGINE? Like. Imagine if. NSH found the othermind plant and is infected by it and fucking. Becomes like, yknow. Plant host.

And he tried to spread it around. and he's growing it. and shit. LIKE WHAT IF!!! I am 100% making this a whole au guys. like c'mon. tell me you wouldn't be interested!! (or don't tell me. idk. i wanna know your thoughts though!)

[bichettes]

dreaming big (league) || chapter one

word count:  250 summary: happy birthday carina! author’s note: so... i guess this is the start y'all. hope you like it 🤠 next

August 11, 2003

“Are you sure this is what she wants?”

The two men were standing in the sporting goods aisle of Walmart looking at a foam bat and ball in plastic packaging. The taller of the two shuffled from foot to foot.

“I’m pretty sure. We were here last week and she held onto it until we left. I promised we’d get it next time we came.”

Severino slid the package off the hook and dumped it in the cart. “You better be right about this.”

“Well it’s not like we have a choice. Why did we wait a week before our daughter’s birthday to think about her presents?”

Severino looked at Andrew with a dopey smile on his face.

“What?”

“‘Our daughter’?”

Andrew scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling nervous. He could feel the heat growing in his face the longer Severino looked at him.

“I mean, yeah? I’ve been thinking about Carrie’s as ours for a while now and I know she’s really yours. I probably should’ve talked to you about this first before I said anything, I don’t know why I even said to begin with it. I’m sorry, I’ll ta-”

Andrew’s rambling was cut off when Severino pressed his lips to his, effectively stopping him from saying anything else. He felt himself relax.

“Our daughter.” Severino repeated but this time it was a statement. He continued to push the cart down the aisle, leaving his partner with his mouth agape in the middle of it.

-

The shrill scream Carina let out a week later had let Severino know Andrew was right all along.

[allylikethecat]

Chapters: 8/15 Fandom: The 1975 (Band) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: George Daniel/Matthew Healy Characters: George Daniel, Matthew Healy, Adam Hann, Ross Macdonald, Carly Holt Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Hurt/Comfort, Past Drug Addiction, Fertility Issues Summary:

He couldn’t be in heat. He couldn’t remember what he even was supposed to do if he was in heat. But he couldn’t be. It had been nine years, all of the blood tests, all of the wait and seeing, all the hormone shots had yielded the same results. He didn’t have a heat cycle anymore, and he would never have one again. He had damaged his body beyond repair.

Except apparently not because he was dripping more slick than he had produced even as a horny teenager and his uterus was screaming at him that it wanted a baby and he just felt so nauseous and empty and-

[stroopwafel-enthusiast]

🌹🌹🌹roses for you🫶🏻

Thank youuu!!

Have a snippet from my wip I've lovingly called "the artists's muse and his lucky star (working title)". I know one rose is supposed to be for one sentence but you'll get three paragraphs instead, who's gonna stop me??

“So you are an artist!” Jesper said triumphantly.

Wylan frowned at him. “What?”

“I—just thought you look like one,” Jesper said. He was not about to confess that he’d been comparing his freckles to the night sky and thought about kissing his eyelids.

Send me roses and I'll share snippets from this wip 👀