I Love How You Can Tell A Story Without Even Using Words In The First Part. You Are So Skilled!!

”you can just make an oc” you dont understand anything. the character needs to mutate naturally until unrecognizable. like all evolutionary processes it takes time. you can’t force it or it doesn’t take. you must endure weird ooc thematically discordant versions of a guy until they bud off into beautiful new life. have patience

A Star in the Universe

There is a star in the universe

I hear its words

Trailing in the night

Calling to me

"Come home"

I hear it say

"Come home to us"

It repeats

In the night is when I hear it most

Its words stronger then

Its words brighter

Calling

I hear it as I fall asleep

"Welcome home"

It says 

"Home"

I repeat

-SadTrainNoises

I just had an idea for a prompt. So, Fox Hux right? He's always ginger/red from the top of his ears to the tip of his tail. Anyways, when they start hanging around starkiller or the heating goes out. He starts turning gray! No amount of dye can fix it & everyone thinks he's just graying early & really fast. But no! He's just changing with the weather! His hair & fur turn completely white! Of course everyone wants to touch it!. A bit more hc that prompt now that I think about it. Do as you please

A month into the deep winter on Starkiller Base, Hux notices the changes.

He thought that the stresses of running the Base had merely brought in some early grey hairs but when more keep appearing and looking more like a bright white colour instead of a typical grey that would come with ageing, Hux is baffled. Even the plush copper fur of his beautiful tail is beginning to turn white.

Is he sick? Is this a sign of a terminal illness?

“Hux? Come to bed. It’s late.” Kylo stands in the doorway, yawning a big yawn and showing off his sharp, wolf canines. His tail lies limp behind him, touching the floor, much too tired to consciously raise it.

“Ren. I wouldn’t want you to find someone else, you know. If I died,” Hux says, leaning over the sink of the refresher to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Hux?”

“I’d expect you to mourn me for at least a year—if not two—when I’m gone. I’d want you to be happy, of course, but the idea of someone else touching you and loving you when I can’t is too much.”

“Hux!” Kylo appears behind Hux and slides his hands around the fox’s waist, mindful of his sensitive tail, resting his chin on Hux’s shoulder. “Stop talking like that. What’s gotten into you?”

Hux sighs, lifting his hand to brush away a portion of his copper hair to reveal stripes of pure white underneath. It hurts to look at—whatever it is. He wriggles free of the wolf’s hold to turn around and face him to show him the same streaks of white that are taking over his bushy tail. Atop his head, his two fox ears haven’t escaped the disease either.

“I think I’m sick,” Hux says. “My fur and hair are changing. I’m a red fox. I’m not meant to be turning white.”

“I thought I noticed something different,” Kylo says, cocking his head as he runs his fingers through Hux’s hair to see the white close-up. He gives a little scratch behind one of the fox’s ears and makes him purr. “Red or white, you’re still beautiful.”

Hux smiles, wagging his tail. “For a dead fox walking.”

“It reminds me of something,” Kylo says softly, looking at Hux’s tousled hair, to the white roots. “There are animals on Chandrila, bear-type creatures that would be brown all year until the snowfall—Oh. Fuck.”

“What, Ren?”

Kylo smiles, “Are you sure that you’re a red fox, Hux?”

“Absolutely certain. My mother and my father were both red foxes, both ginger. What are you getting at? Why aren’t you sad about my imminent death?”

“I think one of them wasn’t what they seem,” Kylo says, nuzzling Hux’s cheek. “I think you’re an arctic fox, Hux.”

Hux reels as though he’s been slapped. He stares wide-eyed at the wolf as though he’s grown an extra head, so confused by his proposal. “A…what?”

“An arctic fox. You’re one colour in the summer and spring months but in the winter, your fur turns white to blend in with the snow. It makes sense, actually. Starkiller is an ice planet, after all.”

“I’m so pleased that you’re so fascinated by my species that you’re ignoring this big reveal, Ren,” Hux rolls his eyes but can’t fight his relief coming out in an exhilarating exhale.

Kylo laughs, “I knew you weren’t dying. You foxes are known for being dramatic.”

Hux playfully slaps Kylo’s arm but his amused smile quickly fades as he turns back around and looks in the mirror, “So I’m…not a red fox. I’m going to go white all over. Ugh. How ghastly.”

“Don’t pout,” Kylo says, standing beside his mate and getting on his tip-toes to take Hux into his arms and nestle his chin atop his head. Nevertheless, Hux still pouts. “I think it’s cute. White hair, white tail. You’ll look other-worldly, Hux.”

“I’ll look like a fool. What will everyone think of me when I go onto the command deck one day and I’ve gone completely white? My officers are already looking at my strangely for having these white streaks and roots!”

“Fuck what they think,” Kylo growls protectively. “Your fur could turn green and you’d still be their General, their superior in every way. Power, beauty. Nothing could ever compare to my beautiful fox. I’ll cut anyone down who thinks any different.”

Hux smiles, filled with joy at the thought of Kylo defending his honour.

Perhaps being an arctic fox won’t be as bad as it seems—though he wonders whether it was his mother or his father who hid their heritage from the galaxy. Hux raises an eyebrow; after leaving Arkanis, Brendol seemed to turn grey very quickly…

Tall...

The most unrealistic part of Deadpool and Wolverine is that Wade didn’t call Logan “pookie” ONCE

ur future nurse is using chapgpt to glide thru school u better take care of urself

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

oh when Oscar Wilde wrote “death must be so beautiful. to lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. to have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. to forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace. you can help me. you can open for me the portals of death’s house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is” i mean bro,, *dies wildely*

They're taking shut ain't they

i love birds so much omfg you dont get it

another day in my gay little life. scrolling through my gay little phone