#and there's a clear story to be told with them

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part 2 of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom

In truth, lying was something that came second nature to Simon Riley

He’d lied to his teachers in school about where he got his bruises and burn marks from, if they bothered to ask

He’d lied to his brother while their parents argued on the other side of the wall, telling him that everything would be okay

He’d lied to his dad about where he’d been all night, telling him he was making less money at the butcher job than he really was

Whatever lie he had to give to get through the day, get through the night, get through his childhood, he would offer up without so much as batting an eye

And as he got older, he started stretching the truth for different reasons

Whatever his CO’s needed to hear from him in order to let him do his job, then he’d let them hear it, true or not

Whenever people started asking too many questions, well-equipped sarcasm became his right hand man in avoiding the truth

Lying had always come in handy for Simon, whether it was a life or death situation or goading Soap into believing an obviously fictitious story, carefully chosen words and slight exaggerations had never steered him wrong before

This one, however?

Well, as he sat in an all too colourful daycare office with murals of ducks and bunnies watching over his every move, Simon began to wonder if this was one lie he shouldn’t have told

But then again, he wasn’t telling this lie out of malice, or greed, or ill-intent… he was doing this for you

Because at the end of the day, he’d be lying to no one apart from himself if he were deny how often you popped into his head

Ever since he’d first squinted through the glaring sun and spotted you through that flimsy chain link fence, since he’d heard your voice over the rumble and roar of construction behind him, since he’d spent less than ten whole minutes talking to you, it was as though something within him had started brewing, started changing

Similar to two live wires coincidentally meeting until an inevitable spark shoots through the air, akin to a wind chime that hadn’t rang out in years suddenly beginning to sway to and fro with the promise of strong winds on the horizon, or closer yet to that moment Franklin’s key and kite were struck by lightning and history was forever changed, meeting you had stirred something loose within Simon

For too long now, Simon felt as though he were nothing more than a man stuck behind the wheel, lost in the storm on an infinite stretch of road that would never lead him towards home, no matter how many maps or compasses or tools he may have, he was on a steady cruise control headed nowhere

But since he’d met you, since he’d learned about the situation you were in, you and your sweet little baby bird just as alone as him and up against the world, since he’d made up his mind and decided he’d help you in whatever capacity you’d allow, it was almost as if the fog had cleared from his tired eyes, as though he was finally glancing up from the maps and realizing that ‘home’ could be down any stretch of road he took, if he was willing to take it

You’d stumbled into his life on an afternoon like any other, instantly making a home for yourself in the recesses of his brain by that very same evening

His eyes now were constantly glancing at the phone number now tacked onto his fridge as he went about his routine, your smile appearing behind his eyelids as he tried in vain to fall asleep at night, or the image of the soft swell of your cleavage bouncing as you’d walked away playing on a loop in his mind until he’d accept he wasn’t going to be getting any shut eye until he allowed his hands to slip beneath the blankets

His early mornings were no longer spent cursing having to be up before the sun, instead he found himself staring at the empty spot across from him at the table, wondering if you were awake too, perhaps trying to soothe a fussy baby back to sleep, or feeding her from the same swollen breasts Simon selfishly wished he could suckle from as well

Or were you still laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you too struggled to fall asleep? Too worried about finding your baby bird a spot somewhere before the money ran out? Stressing yourself over things that Simon wished he could fix for you? That he knew he could fix for you?

Less than 24 hours after your first conversation, Simon had hounded just about every living and breathing soul working on the construction site, determined to come up with at least some bit of information, someone to contact, something that would lead him in the right direction, but everyone seemed to be just as in the dark as he was

He wasn’t easily deterred however, nor was he lacking in imagination, when he decided he was unwilling to return to his flat that night without being at least one step closer to having a valid excuse for calling the number that called out to him each time he walked through his kitchen, and so if no one apart from Simon happened to notice that every single blueprint disappeared from the site that night, well that was just unfortunate wasn’t it?

He’d nearly missed the phone call he’d been hoping to get the next morning, preoccupied with having to change his bed sheets after having dreamt of you again all night as visions of your soft body had him feeling like a teenaged boy again, he managed to snag his phone just before the ringer ended

As expected, the site manager had been on the other line, practically beside himself as he told Simon how he’d arrived at the site and discovered that some troublesome teenagers must have snuck in during the night and done away with their building plans, asking Simon if he wouldn’t mind driving to the supervisor’s office and snagging some copies

Simon had already been halfway out the door before he’d hung up

The foreman’s office was cluttered beyond belief, disorganized chaos he sifted through carefully to find the one piece of information he needed, and there amongst the loose papers and pencils and measuring tapes, was the next piece to the puzzle he was slowly solving; the buyers contact information

The blueprints were delivered back to the site in no time, having been kept safe in the back of Simon’s truck the entire time, and a carefully concocted story about needing to run to grab supplies for the job was believed by everyone as the tall man climbed back in behind the wheel and weighed his options

He could reach out to you now, he’d been able to find you the owner’s name, along with an email and phone number to contact, the promise he’d made to you was done, his duty fulfilled

He knew he could call, and you’d be overjoyed to hear from him, that you would be eternally grateful for his help, thanking him endlessly… but that would be the end of it, wouldn’t it? His role would be fulfilled, his duty done and over with, no other valid excuses for you to keep him within your orbit, he’d just be a kind stranger who’d done you an incredibly kind favour

But as Simon pondered that choice, he wondered, why stop here?

You were alone with a newborn, stressed enough as it was, you didn’t need more work being added onto your already full plate, he may as well go the extra mile and help you out even more, right?

At least, that’s what Simon kept telling himself now, as he sat in a too small chair inside of a much too colourful office, avoiding the judgemental eyes of the painted woodland creatures staring at him, as though they knew what his intentions were, waiting for none other than the owner herself

“Hi there, sorry to have kept you waiting.” The woman says as she walks in, reaching a hand out to greet him as he stands to meet her halfway. “My assistant director says you’re here from our newest expansion? The East end location?”

“Yes ma’am, that’d be the one.” Simon offers politely, lowering himself back into the chair he hardly fits in once she rounds the desk and sits down as well. It would make sense that that was what her assistant has told her, as that was the story Simon had offered, reasoning that he had to speak with the owner about the project, not giving them much choice when he showed up to the office unannounced

“There aren’t any issues with construction so far, are there? We shouldn’t be expecting any delays?” She questions, getting straight to the point. Simon appreciates that she isn’t wasting any time with small talk, he also wants this done quick, he’s got a pretty bird waiting on him after all

“No ma’am. Everythin’s on track so far.” He replies easily, omitting the small hiccups she doesn’t need to know about. “M’afraid that’s not why I’m ‘ere today.”

“Well, what can I help you with then?” She questions, an over plucked brow raising as she tilts her head

“Had a few questions ‘bout the nursery we’re buildin’ for ya.”

“Oh, well- I believe the specifications were in the plans for-”

“Not so much ‘bout the building itself, ma’am.” He cuts her off, not unkindly, but clarifying his point. “Was more so wondering ‘bout- well, it’s a decently big plot o’ land we’re working on. How many lil’ ones are meant be in there?” He asks, trying his best to ease his way into this conversation

“Currently, plans are set to have two preschool classes, two toddlers classes, as well as an infant class. With full capacity we could have up to 88 children in the centre. Why are-”

“How many of those spots are for the babes?”

“We can have up to 10 infants at most.”

“Alrigh’, and how many o’ those spots are available?” He finally asks, cutting to the chase, ripping the bandaid off. Simon watches understanding cross her face and she lets out a small scoff, not rude, but more so like she knew she should have expected as much

“Ah, I see now.” She says with a knowing smile sent his way. “I appreciate your interest in our centre, and I understand nursery spots have been scarce in the city, but I have to be honest sir, we do have a wait list policy. There are numerous families already signed up wi-”

“It’s a little girl.” Simon cuts her off firmly this time, not wanting to entertain whatever rejection she was preparing to give him. No, he wouldn’t be leaving here without good news for you, he couldn’t do that. He ignores the painted birds mocking eyes as he steels himself as presses on. “She’s just a tiny thing. Eight weeks old, almost nine now I suppose. Her mum’s got to be back to work, hasn’t got much of a choice. There’s no family ‘round to help or nothin’. She needs this spot for her.”

The woman’s lips thin as she looks at him with understanding, with sympathy, none of the things Simon cares to see unless she’s nodding her head in agreement. He knew it might take a little push to convince whoever was behind the desk to do the right thing, to help him do right by his birdie and her baby bird, and so he’s not ashamed, nor above saying:

“I’ll make sure the job’s done early.”

At this, both her brows now shoot up, obvious intrigue now painted across her features as she blinks at him.

“Pardon?”

“I will see to it that everything is ready ahead of schedule. Personally. The sooner the place is open, the sooner you start making money, the sooner kids are in and sooner parents are happy. Everyone wins.”

Simon watches her ponders his words, gears turning in her head as she thinks it over. She could easily refute him, call him out for being out of line and send him on his way, tail tucked between his legs. But Simon knows a desperate person when he sees one, knows just what people want to hear, and so he isn’t surprised when she’s suddenly standing from her desk, crossing the room to shut the slightly ajar door, and he smiles to himself slightly, knowing he’s won.

“Now when you say ahead of schedule-”

“Could have ‘er ready by the end of the month. I’ll pull the strings, make it happen. You leave it to me and it’ll be done.” He answers easily, confidently, like there is no question in his mind he can offer up such promises and see them through to fruition. Hell, he’d build the entire goddamn thing by himself day and night if that’s what she wanted to hear, whatever would convince her

“I mean-” she says, letting out a long sigh as she leans back in her chair, opening up a drawer and rummaging through for something or another. “I can’t lie, this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve made exceptions for someone, especially one of our own builders.”

Simon nods along, pleased with the way this is going thus far, though things take an abrupt turn when she next says:

“I would still like to meet with your wife and daughter first, just to iron out the enrolment details and confirm whether this would be a good fit, but I can- I could potentially find a way to make this work.”

And Simon knows this is the moment where he’s supposed to correct her, where he’s supposed to speak up and clarify that no, you aren’t his wife and she isn’t his daughter, that she’s misunderstood him and that the two of you are strangers he met earlier this week- fuck he doesn’t even know your baby’s name yet for crying out loud- all of this could fall apart tremendously as soon as she asks even a single question that he won’t have the answer to, potentially jeopardizing this entire thing for you and her, and yet-

“Brilliant. The missus will be thrilled.”

Alrighty first off, apologies for the delay between posts, writers block and life in general are so ew, but we’re so back babe

All the love on the first part was so unexpected and so so appreciated!!! Y’all have me looking like this with every comment and reblog and tag-

Gonna strive to have part 3 out before the end of the weekend hopefully, don’t want to keep you all waiting so long again

- M 🫶🏻

[ssahotchnerr]

My friend told me this story about her going golfing with her fiancé and she was like omg he is so attractive the whole time so i assume that what reader feels like all the time being with Aaron lol

a little off course

OMG i'm continuing with the golfing concept because YES cw; fem!reader, established relationship, playfulness and suggestive content <3

"Next time you go golfing with Dave," As Aaron was lounging on the couch, your arms had wrapped around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. "Can I tag along? Please?"

A double take was necessary when you asked, the request far out of your character. You've never expressed interest in golf before, and he was exceedingly surprised. Maybe it was just another way for the two of you to spend time together. Maybe you thought it would be more exciting than it actually was. You were on some kind of agenda.

Regardless, the next free sunny Saturday, you were sat in the golf cart as he and Dave made their way through the course.

But, that's all you did. You had no clear intentions of playing; you plainly sat in observance, and Aaron felt your eyes following his every move. It was almost intimidating; he wanted to do well for you.

Little did he know that while he feared you were bored, you were thoroughly entertained; present for your own indulgences.

"Sweetheart." His eyes were squinting from the sun, Dave teeing off behind him. "Are you sure you want to be here?"

You offered him a smile, and he took a second to admire how cute you looked in your sun visor, casting a shadow across the bridge of your nose. "I'm absolutely sure."

"Since when are you into golf?"

"I'm very," You paused mid-sentence, watching him (or rather, his hands) as he fixed his glove, adjusting and retightening the hold it held. "Into golf."

Only, Aaron playing golf was what you were interested in.

He and Dave played a few weekends ago, and when Aaron returned home, you found yourself regretfully wishing you accompanied them. Just when you thought he couldn't possibly be more attractive; a new genre of Aaron was unlocked and never to be concealed again.

Crisp and clean in proper golf attire - fresh khakis, a polo shirt, a newly produced, light tan gracing his skin. And now being present, the way his broad back stretched and forearms flexed as he lined up for a shot, his chest heaving in a deep exhale after hitting. Could there be a better sight?

His eyebrows crinkled adorably. "But you're just staring at me?"

"Exactly."

"Oh, I see." Aaron's lips pulled into a combination of a smile and a smirk - he should've known. His hand was resting on the cart's overhead as he looked down at you. His voice remained low, to prevent Dave from overhearing. "You're just here to undress me with your eyes, aren't you?"

"Yes and no." You defended, failing miserably at keeping your caught smile at bay. "I'm here because I love you. The undressing is an added perk."

His furrowed brows relaxed in amusement. "Is it?"

"I'll jump at any opportunity to spend time with you. It's a beautiful day, you're within arm's reach." You reached out, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. "And I get to swoon over you being sweaty and strong in the meantime. Besides, I'm also here to ward off any club members who think they may have a shot at you. You're on full display out here for anyone to see."

"Aren't you sweet." A breathless laugh escaped him - as if anyone had a chance when he had you. Aaron leaned down to kiss you gently, craning his neck slightly due to the obstruction of your hat. "Thank you, darling."

You grinned, crossing a leg over the other.

His stare hidden behind his sunglasses, Aaron's eyes involuntarily fell to your legs, seeing that your slightly-too-short skirt had slid up and exposed most of your thigh. Maybe you had a point.

"Do you want to give it a try?" He asked as Dave finished his shot, returning to the parked cart himself.

"Really?"

"Sure, I'll teach you." Aaron took your hand, helping you step off the golf cart before grabbing his driver from his bag.

He guided you to stand in front of him; his biceps were at your shoulders, his arms firmly around you and allowing little to no room for movement.

Caged in, you felt a flutter in more places than one, the weight of his chest against your back intimately familiar. Muscle memory.

A blush filled your cheeks. Not from the heat of the afternoon, but at the rate this innocent lesson (you were beginning to infer, this hadn't been innocent to begin with) had heightened. There was no way you'd successfully hit this ball now, even with Aaron's direction - being highly distracted.

"Hands here," he instructed with quiet command, moving your hands along the grip to the correct positioning. His lips were touching the shell of your ear. "Square your shoulders for me."

"Like this?" Only, you pushed your ass directly into his crotch. Aaron's hold on your wrists immediately tightened.

He barely managed a hum in confirmation, swallowing hard. "Just like that."

"Okay you two," Dave lectured from afar, a mix between amusement and slight disgust visible on his face. "Keep it PG on the green, please."

[eshcohen]

READ ON ROYAL ROAD

The gods are awakening.

Ten years ago, the stars fell on the city of New Babylon.

Molly and Ethan Sparrow barely escaped, saved on that apocalyptic night by their aunt Miriam. They drove for hours through the mists of the wastelands, until the road led somewhere else – a new reality.

Ten years have passed.

Molly still remembers the voice in the sea. It spoke in her dreams the night the stars fell, rising from the ocean’s depths. Something ancient was watching her with colossal red eyes. Now nearly eighteen, the voice calls to her again: the tide is rising, it says.

Ethan is now an up-and-coming journalist. Since their aunt’s death, all he has is his younger sister. But he is still haunted by the memory of a city that doesn’t exist – an impossible megalopolis rising on the shores of an endless sea. No record of it remains. No one believes it was ever there.

But it did. New Babylon endured, and it's calling them back home.

Back to the edge of existence.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Divinium: Tehomot is a cosmic post-apocalyptic fantasy epic, told through dual first-person POVs of the Sparrow siblings.

Perfect for fans of fantasy, soft sci-fi, cosmic horror, slow-burn mysteries, romance, and immersive worldbuilding.

Part of the Realms of Kiyum series, which also includes the WIP interactive fiction game The Bar on the Abyss.

Loved the first chapters? You're more than welcome to comment and rate it on RR, or send your questions and requests here!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

To Those Who Followed Me to the Abyss and Back — Thank You.

This is a love letter to you. First, thank you. Truly. If you’ve followed The Bar on the Abyss, if you've listened to my ramble here for two years, thank you for being here. You didn’t just arrive at the bar. You stayed. You helped me build it.

As I’ve mentioned before, TBOTA unfolds in what is now called 'Realms of Kiyum — a setting I first created a long time ago, for a different story entirely.

That story was buried for a while. Then it started whispering again.

Now, it’s rising.

In the end, I chose to write it as a novel because that’s the shape it demanded.

But let me be absolutely clear: I’m not abandoning The Bar on the Abyss.

Actually, it’s the opposite.

Writing the novel has given me new energy. So these two projects are going to grow together. They echo and mirror one another. Sometimes they clash. That’s the fun of multiverses.

Right now, the plan is this: TBOTA will be the first project I finish. It’s smaller (well, in story, a game is ANYTHING BUT SMALL) and more focused — the first act of a larger story.

Divinium: Tehomoth will take more time. It’s a three-book arc, and beyond Chapters 1 and 2, most of what I’ve written before is now void—wiped clean to make space for what this story is meant to be.

So if you’re here for the game, don’t worry — I’m still in the bar with you.

And if you’re curious about the book, come read the novel. They’re pieces of the same dream.

Thanks for walking with me this far. And truly — there’s still so much more to see.

Esh ❤

[cod-dump]

The 141 looking at videos of younger price doing things they got in trouble for and got them yelled at by price

Keepsakes

___

"God, when was the last time he came here?"

"Long enough he doesn't want to bother cleaning this shit out himself," Ghost muttered as he shoves a facemask into Gaz's hands. The dust made it necessary.

Price finally made the decision to have his old storage unit cleaned out. He himself hadn't bothered to do anything yet, but he's convinced the boys to do some cleaning for him. He gave them a list of certain things he's looking for, then to their surprise Laswell did as well. Apparently it was a shared storage unit against Price’s will.

"There's the box Laswell told us to grab for her."

Most of the videos were in boxes marked by young agent Laswell, a clear warning not to touch them to a Lieutenant Price.

As they stuffed certain boxes into the van they arrived in, Soap found an old jacket. Not worn in years, SAS embroidered on it with Price's name proud on the breast. Soap shook the thing violently, to relieve it of any unwanted bugs and dust, before put it on. Almost a perfect fit.

"Hm, think he'll notice?"

Gaz snorts as he dares to open one of the boxes, "You're him made over."

Soap grins despite the sarcasm and starts posing, earning laughter from Gaz. Ghost rolled his eyes at him while he sorted through the boxes. He finally stops next to a particular box, kicking it lightly, "Nik box."

Soap and Gaz immediately dart over. Nik was precious with his mementos. Safe guarded them like a dragon. None of them saw anything he didn't want them to see, not picture or saved bullet casing. Not a single story unless he gives it up. Laswell and Price weren't so closed off and with start up a story from asking.

"Oh- What do you think is in it?"

Ghost lightly kicks the box again before he confidently says- "Nudes."

Soap gags and Gaz cackles.

"The head of his enemies. Or their di-"

"Stop," Soap grumbles as he pulls the box to the side with some of Laswell's.

There was something precious about how close they were, Price getting a storage unit only for Laswell and Nik to shove their own things inside without care. They didn't have any doubt the only protest from Price was only a bit of grumbling before he just let it happen.

“I think Nik wouldn’t let anything… unsavory be left where we could find it. There’s no way he would forget the location of anything sensitive.”

“What if, and hear me out, he’s forgotten with old age?” Ghost countered seriously, Gaz cackling in response.

Soap opens the box without hesitating another second. Ghost and Gaz whipped their heads around to stare as Soap pulls out a large book. It was a photo album with a slip of paper labelling the front. In Russian of course, just like the writing labelling the box.

“Alright, who’s been paying attention in Nik’s sort and somewhat weird lessons in Russian?”

Ghost stares hard at the photo albums front, truly concentrating as hard as he could. Gaz stared for a few seconds, eyes flickering to Ghost a few times, like he was waiting for him to reply. He didn’t, so Gaz did.

“I think it’s along the lines of ‘my sweet John’.”

Soap gags dramatically, “God, is it actually nudes?”

Ghost hums, “It’s not like we haven’t seen them naked before.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see anything else beyond basic locker room shit.”

They were delaying, even though all of them desperately did want to know what was inside. But none of them made a move, just staring at the photo album while also eying each other. After a third minute of rather uneasy silence, Ghost sighs loudly before he grabs the photo album.

“Well, might as well. What’s one more piece of trauma?”

He unties the string keeping it closed, taking a step back before taking a deep breath, bracing himself. Soap and Gaz stared at him, waiting. So Ghost flipped open the album.

“Oh.”

Soap and Gaz shared a look before looking back at him, “Oh?”

Ghost flips a page, then another, before looking up, “They’re candids. A lot of them.”

Soap and Gaz finally look, and he was right. Each page was several pictures of a young Price just existing. Some of him napping in odd places, stuffing his face with questionable looking food, arguing with a young Laswell — He was just existing. And his behavior displayed in the photos were familiar.

“Johnny, weren’t you napping under the table the other day?”

“Weren’t you stuffing your fast with the shit you found in the back of the fridge?”

Gaz takes over the photo album, fondly looking at the pictures. Several photos, if not all, were taken clearly without Price’s knowing.

“Good to know Nik hasn’t lost any love,” the countless times Gaz has caught the man taking pictures of Price without the man knowing. He really wanted to know what his photo gallery looked like.

Suddenly, Soap gasps. Gaz looks up and Soap is holding a video camera, grinning madly.

“Sex tapes.”

“Simon!”

Gaz eagerly reaches for the camera, “Let me see!”

He saw the box it came from, labelled by Laswell. It was safe to look through… maybe.

He messes with the camera, laughing gleefully when it still turns on. Ah, they don’t make them like they used to.

“This is history!”

“And blackmail,” it was clear why Ghost was here. He never would pass up an opportunity to hold something over someone’s head, even the people who could make him disappear.

Gaz selects a video and starts playing it, watching the tiny screen intently. He wasn’t expecting to witness a past event of Price arguing with a currently unknown SAS officer, one that appeared to out rank him. He was cussing the man out with his full chest, and Gaz couldn’t help but look up at Soap.

“… what is it? I hear yelling.”

“I think we took after Price more than he realizes.”

Soap and Ghost were on either of Gaz now, watching the tiny screen with their chins on Gaz’s shoulders. Gaz played another video.

This one started with the camera facing a grinning Laswell, none of them could recall ever seeing such a mischievous look on her before. The camera switches over to show Price sitting on top of a cabinet with a guitar in his arms. He was clearly waiting for someone to come through the door by the cabinet.

“Do you know how many times he’s bitched at me for climbing on furniture-“

“Shh!”

Price was grinning at the camera and Laswell, and then an infamous figure they’ve all heard of but saw few photos of walked through the door. Captain MacMillan left his mark on Price, but clearly Price also left a mark on the man. Upon entering the room, he turns to say something to Laswell, then Price aggressively started playing the guitar.

“JONATHAN YOU CUNT-“

Laswell cackles as MacMillan grabs Price’s leg, dragging him from the cabinet. The camera cuts off right as the cabinet comes down with Price, the shock on his face blurred on the screen as the video ends. Gaz covered his mouth and Ghost leaned away. Soap chose to break the silence.

“I think he would throw us into a lake with bricks tied to our feet if we showed him this.”

“Clearly we make copies.”

They knew he was trouble in his youth, but this? Oh this was hypocrisy. And Laswell was in on some of it? Oh this was blackmail for sure. Ghost got what he wanted.

“Copies, Kyle. We need copies-“

Yes, they all were in on this. This was worth it.

[fluff-lover]

Past Future | Logan x fem!Reader

Summary: Logan time travels and finds out his future self is married... to you.

Note: this is in a way part of my Healing Touch fic, where Reader is called "Angel", is a mutant and has healing powers. But can be read without reading the whole fic.

Also, I don't think the timelines and plot makes much sense, but this came to me one night and I just needed to write it!

In a desperate attempt to stop the sentinels, Charles and Logan offer to travel into the future to find out how (and if) the X-Men won the war, only to find out that mutants are almost extinct there. Year is 2030 and their only lead takes them to the Logan from the future: a more rugged, worn down Wolverine who hung the claws a year ago, after Charles died.

“I don’t go by Logan anymore.” He told them. “Here I’m James.”

It took a lot of persuasion to make James take them home and help them. James wanted to leave the past in the past, but seeing Chuck again, even if it was a younger version, pulled some strings in his heart.

That’s how they found themselves standing outside Jame’s home: a little cabin in the woods, with lovely flowers in the front yard, a wooden fence, a nice porch… 

Logan, the one from the past, felt like this was a completely parallel universe instead of his own in the future. The man standing in front of him was completely different from him.

“Listen, I’m very protective of my home.” James said. “So here are some ground rules: Don’t go sneaking around, don’t touch anything…” He said looking from Charles to Logan, then back to Charles. “Don’t feed the dog.” And finally he turned to Logan. “And don’t hit on my wife.” he said in a warning tone.

“You have a dog?” Charles asked.

“You have a wife?!” Logan added in disbelief.

They walked in and found a cozy home, a lit fireplace, and the smell of homemade food filling in the air.

“Shoes.” James said before taking his shoes off.

Charles and Logan exchanged a look before taking their shoes off too.

Oh, James was whipped!

A white and brown border collie rushed to James and he bent down to greet her.

“Hi Whiskey, have you been a good girl today?” He asked the dog while patting her. She wiggled her tail and licked his hand. “Yeah you were… always such a good girl.”

Logan watched closely, he couldn’t imagine ever getting a dog. 

James straightened with a groan and walked further into the home.

“Sweetheart?” He called out.

You walked out of the kitchen to greet him and Logan’s breath hitched.

You were SO beautiful, breathtaking. Now he understood Jame’s warning. His younger self would definitely try to make some moves on such a pretty thing.

Logan watched in disbelief as you cupped your husband’s face and kissed his lips oh so sweetly while James wrapped an arm around your waist. Logan wondered how on Earth he would end up with such a loving, beautiful partner. It was clear your tenderness rubbed off on James, seeing him being all lovey dovey with you.

James quickly introduced them and you couldn’t help but look at Logan in wonder. He looked just like your husband, just younger. But he wasn’t the same man. You and Logan went through so much together: losing the other mutants, helping Charles, finding Laura, only for Charles to pass away in a horrific way… No, your James was unique, and you loved him just the way he was.

Charles was a whole different story…

“That’s… a head full of hair…” You half joked. James snorted and kissed your temple.

Your life with James was simple and very domestic. You made dinner in the kitchen while he set the table. Logan and Charles tried to take everything in as this wasn’t the future they expected.

“Alright, dinner is ready!” you said as you placed the food on the table.

“I’ll get Laura.” James said before going upstairs.

“Who’s Laura?” Charles asked.

“She’s James’ kid.” You said as you sat down. Logan opened his eyes so widely you thought they would pop out of his skull. “It’s complicated, technically she’s his clone, but after we found out about her we decided to keep her and raise her as our own.”

Logan watched James arrive downstairs followed by a little girl. There was some resemblance, especially in her frown. She didn’t look happy to have visitors.

When Laura spotted Logan, she quickly hid behind James’ legs. He smiled gently at her and patted her head.

“It’s alright kiddo, he’s good. Not a clone.” He explained while guiding her to her chair next to you. You smiled sweetly and placed a plate of food in front of her.

Once you were all sat at the table Charles and Logan explained the situation and asked a ton of questions about the future. With a lot of patience James told them everything, from how to defeat the sentinels to how you two ended up here. He told them about Charle’s seizures and how it killed every other mutant except for the two of you. 

You told them about your healing powers and your days at the School as “Angel”. 

…About your marriage…

…About finding Laura…

About Charles passing away.

At one point you turned to Charles with glassy eyes.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I used my healing powers with you every chance I got but…” You shook your head and sighed. “I think you were so tired you just gave up. And then when you were attacked by X-24 I got to you too late, you had already passed away…” you looked away in shame. James lifted your hand and kissed it.

“You did everything you could… We all did.” James said before turning to the others. “She’s constantly healing me too, otherwise I would be dead by now.”

“Healing from what? I thought you… we…” Logan cleared his throat, not knowing how to address James. “What about the enhanced healing power?”

“I still got it, but the adamantium in my bones is slowly poisoning me.” He then looked at you lovingly. “My little angel keeps it from taking me out entirely.”

“What’s adamantium?” Charles asked.

“A nearly indestructible metal that was injected inside me to make me stronger.” With that James unleashed his claws and the other men saw their reflection on the shiny material.

“What the fuck…?” Logan mumbled.

“How did that happen?” Charles asked.

“That’s another long story…” James sighed.

“And it’s been a long night, I’ll tuck Laura in.” You said getting up. “Come on sweetheart, it’s bedtime.” 

Laura got up and before following you upstairs she stopped to hug James goodnight. It took a while for James and Laura to form this father-daughter bond, but you knew they loved each other and every day they learned more and more to show their affection. It was slow progress but it was worth it.

“Good night, kiddo.” James smiled softly and watched the two of you walk upstairs. Logan was still trying to wrap this whole thing around his head. James turned to him and tilted his head towards the door. “Care for a drink?”

James, Logan and Charles sat down on the porch, each one of them with a glass of bourbon. The sky was clear and the stars shone bright. It was quiet and nice, the only light in the porch coming from a little lamp hanging from the roof.

Charles and James discussed plans of action against the sentinels and how to get reinforcements, but Logan stayed quiet mostly. He had so many questions, the most important one being what did he do to deserve such a happy, tranquil life?

Whiskey, the dog, laid next to James on the floor with her head resting on her master’s foot.

“So this is your life now, uh?” Logan suddenly said, interrupting Charles and James’ talk. “You go to work, come home to a wife and kid, have dinner, sit on the porch with a drink and a cigar…”

James arched an eyebrow.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said before taking a drag.

“You forgot the dog.” Charles added and Logan shot him a glare.

“Hard to believe, no?” James asked him. Logan didn’t know what to say, but yes, he was having a hard time believing this.

“It's just so… peaceful.” he mumbled.

James hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“It is, and so far away from all the violence I once knew. For the longest time I didn’t believe I deserved it. That I didn’t deserve HER.” It was clear he was talking about you. “But each morning I wake up next to her and she reassures me this is where I belong.” He smiled, thinking about the quiet mornings, the whispers under the covers, the light kisses on his face.

“Are you happy?” Charles asked softly, wanting to believe his friend got a somewhat happy ending while the rest of the world went to shit.

James hummed again and nodded his head.

“Happier than I recall ever being.”

By the time they went back inside you were almost done washing the dishes. James stood next to you and started drying them, a radio playing old tunes in a corner.

While Logan and Charles discussed strategies, Logan caught a glimpse of you and James slow dancing in the kitchen. It was a heart pulling scene: your head resting against James’ chest, Paul Anka’s voice sounding in the background. 

It looked so simple, just a common married couple slow dancing in the kitchen late at night, a domestic yet sweet tint to it. Yet to Logan it looked like an impossible dream of something he never thought he could get.

“You’ll get there.” He heard Charles whisper and his face went red as he realized he was caught staring.

“Uh?”

Charles looked at the couple and back at him.

“You’ll meet her, fall in love and marry her. Don’t worry, this will happen to you.”

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It won’t if we change the future.”

“You won’t remember any of this when you get back to your own time. But I will, and I’ll make sure you meet her.” Charles promised.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He said dismissively. “That’s not what we’re here for. Keep your head in the mission.”

Charles simply smiled.

Logan was whipped too…

Tags:

@starsmoonn

@insanesosciopath

@rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos

@ayamenimthiriel

@charmingballoon

@espressopatronum454

@uncertified-doc

@ltristessedureratoujours

@all-for-kpop

@readerofwords616

@tezooks

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@mostly-marvel-musings

@jules-and-gemss@reidsworld

[judesmoonbeauty]

SurpriseBag 2025: Dress Up With the Cunning Mobster Doll Story- Jude Jazza's Story

Fan translation only. Accuracy not 100%. Please expect grammatical errors. Creative liberties are taken. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Jude turned into stuffed doll.

This pleased me IMMENSELY because—

(This is my chance to get revenge...!)

While being bullied and teased, I received his love differently from others, but I’ve always wanted to get back at him somehow.

Jude: Gotta real sinister look on yer face, whadda ya up to?

Kate: Heeheehee……I just think you look adorable, Jude.

Jude: What’s with the shady laugh?

Kate: Don’t criticize the way people laugh.

His expression couldn’t change, but when I picked Jude up, I knew he was looking at me suspiciously.

Kate: Jude. When I was a kid, I loved tying ribbons to my stuffed toys.

He was lowered onto the edge of the desk, looked up at me and made a low voice.

Jude: Oy, wait.

I took a small box from the shelf and opened it.

The box contained colorful ribbons. I picked up a few and showed them to him with a bright smile.

Kate: Which do you like?

He made hoarse noise as he stood up and tried to step back.

Jude:…..Dont’cha dare.

But he stopped when he realized the position he was in.

I smiled even more when I saw Jude standing on the edge of the desk, where he would fall if he took just one step.

Kate: Maybe this deep purple ribbon? Ah, this one is nice too!

Jude: Yer the worst.

Kate: It's nothing compared to what you usually do to me.

Jude: Hmph, yer the one who enjoys bein’ bullied.

Kate: Well, let’s table that for now…..

Jude: Let’s not.

I clear my throat and pick up the deep purple ribbon.

Kate: It’s not a big deal, it’s just a little ribbon.

Jude: Ya can’t be serious— Oy!

Catching Jude as he tries to escape, I place the ribbon around the back of his head, bring up both ends at the top of his head and tie them off—

(Oh, soooo cute…!)

The Jude doll is now complete with a ribbon tied on him.

Jude: ……This's the worst.

He looked so cute just sitting there while looking the other way, that I had to use both hands to cover my grinning.

Jude: Satisfied now? Lemme down.

Kate: Oh, I want to tie this frilly ribbon around your neck too.

The moment I picked up the pretty, white frilly ribbon, Jude stood up and lost his balance.

Kate: Be careful!

I quickly picked him up so he wouldn’t get hurt, but he was flailing around in my lap.

Jude: Are ya kiddin’ me, why do I gotta wear some frilly arse ribbons?

Kate: Please don’t move so much, it’s dangerous.

Jude resisted with all his might, refusing to wear the frilly ribbon, so I held him down.

That’s when—

Kate: Waah!

Suddenly, smoke billows in front of me and my lap becomes heavy.

After blinking several times, my vision finally cleared and I met Jude's eyes.

Jude: Huh…..?

Kate: Y-you changed back already?

Jude open and closed his hand several times to confirm that he really changed back, and the sighed haggardly.

Jude: ‘Twas down right awful….Don’t ever wanna go through that again.

Jude: The hell’s with turnin’ into a stuffed toy. Betcha that quack doc mixed dodgy stuff into our food again.

Jude: Thanks to that, I went through a right mess. Should go ‘n give him a good kick fer it.

Jude got up from straddling my lap, and started grumbling about Roger again—

Kate: Ppfff-

Jude: Hm?

I couldn't help but laugh because on Jude���s head….

Kate: Jude, you're wearing a cute ribbon.……

The purple ribbon he was wearing as a stuffed toy was still tied on top of his head.

The long ribbon fits perfectly now that he’s back to its normal size, with a beautiful bow sitting on top his head.

Jude: …….

I clutch my stomach, unable to handle this unusual sight of Jude.

Without altering his expression, he untied the ribbon—

Jude: Princess, hold up yer hands.

Kate: ? Sure.

I did as I was told and stuck them out, and in a flash my hands were bound tightly together with the ribbon.

Kate: Ah.

Jude: Real good job ya did earlier.

Kate: Well, uhhh~…..

He looked down at me with a crooked smile, and when I averted my gaze, he instantly carried me away….

Kate: WOAH!!

Jude: I’ll turn ya into a dress-up doll too, but…..

I was surprised when he threw me on the bed, and he immediately hovered over me—

Jude: ‘Fore that, we gotta strip off all yer clothes, yeah?

It didn't end with just taking off my clothes, I was tormented more severely than usual.

And I decided that if he ever turned into a stuffed doll again, I would definitely dress him up in frilly clothes.

[Story Set Master List]

T/L note: I know, I could’ve used the word “plushie”, but that didn’t exist in their time period, so I didn’t. And I'm sorry for the bows, but I couldn't resist putting them on him either when they were missing from his sprite.

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @justgiulia @vickietickie @greedyqueensfavourite @sharigax @belphiesleftpinkytoe @reimy1164 @barellorkilaam @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway

If you're +18 YO and wish to be added to my tag list, please feel free to comment below or DM me.

[mymoongirlreadings]

Placements Who Naturally Embrace the Divine Disruptor Life ❤️‍🔥

Sacred Rebellion Coded Placements: Natural catalysts, primal in energy, soul-led, self-owned, sacred, strong, fearless & have breakthrough coursing through their veins. Societal norms hate to see them coming because they're here to shake the system & awaken truth, rebuilding the world from the inside out. They're not here for ease--they're here for impact. Not to stay safe...to shift timelines.

Aries Placements (especially Moon) - Clear boundaries, able to say no without guilt & fierce self-prioritization

Aquarius Placements - The truth teller and pattern-breaker. Radiates individuality and often challenges inherited belief systems. Their purpose and life force are majorly connected to awakening collective consciousness through authenticity and innovation

Sagittarius, Gemini, or Virgo Placements - These placements are sovereign in their thinking and do things on purpose. They shake systems not always through force but from challenging perspectives, information and perception

Capricorn Placements 🪐 - These placements can dig deep within them to anchor themselves through to the end of their desired goal; they have the resilience to keep going even under pressure

Mars in Fire Signs (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) - Fire tries things, they think fast, think bold & can take the leap before they're ready, fear can't hold them back, they are bravery IN MOTION

8th House Stellium or Strong Scorpio Energy - The taboo walker. Meant to face death, power, sexuality, and truth — and come out purified. Brings uncomfortable truths to light, but also births others into their power.

1st House Stellium - They came to Earth to write a new story where they take up space. The way they move creates ripples, and they're meant to embody their full identity by doing this unapologetically. They're not just being seen, they're transforming others through their embodiment. They're not here to wait for permission, they are the initiator energy.

Uranus in the 1st, 10th, or conjunct Sun/Mars - Radically authentic to who they are & refuses to conform. Came to awaken others

Pluto conjunct, sextile or trine Ascendant or Midheaven - Moves powerfully, intensely & are unmissable. They ignite others to look at their own power, whether others are comfortable or uncomfortable with that will be revealed. Others project fear or awe onto them & they're meant to continue rising through it

North Node in Aquarius, Aries, or Scorpio - Destiny is to lead through radical truth, individuality, or transformation. Aries NN: Warrior soul, meant to go first. Aquarius NN: Revolutionary thinker, rule-breaker. Scorpio NN: Rebirth royalty, destined to embrace power.

Aries Venus, Mars, or Lilith or Venus, Mars or Lilith at 1, 13 or 25 degrees - Beauty or desire becomes a weapon of liberation. Attracts through confidence, not compliance. Passionate, fierce, and often “too much” for people who fear feminine fire (the warmth, magnetism & power they hold)

Midheaven in Scorpio or Aquarius - Career path is meant to disrupt, awaken, and rebuild. Known for intensity, originality, or truth-telling. Their legacy is change.

Pluto in the 1st house or conjunctions, sextiles or trines to Pluto - If you have these placements, you were meant to burn down who you were told to be and rise as who you truly are. They are a walking initiation, and others either evolve in your presence or resist you, because they sense your power before you speak

Black Moon Lilith in the 1st house or conjunctions, sextiles or trines to BML - Truth > Approval. Whether through the body, voice, love, mind, or presence--you model what it means to live unowned, unashamed, and unafraid. You were coded for cosmic disruption, loving, living and embodying truth so fully that the old world falls away and a new one is born & rises in it's place, these are your weapons of light

[onlyangel4]

red, white and ruin. part two. cody rhodes.

dark!cody rhodes x make up artist!reader.

synopsis: on the surface, cody is everything clean-cut. honour, legacy, gold. but you saw the mask slip once, and now you can’t unsee it. he wants you because you see him, the ambition, the darkness, the violence under the white light. and when he decides you’re going to be his, he wraps you in red, white, and ruin.

warnings: reader mentions an abusive ex. cursing. toxic.

part one // part two // part three

the gifts started with the boots.

you found them sitting outside your hotel room door the next morning. matte black, ankle-high, perfect stitching, identical to the ones you’d had to toss last winter after they’d cracked clean through at the sole. you never told anyone how much you missed them.

but there they were. brand new. same cut. same make. down to the way the tongue tucked in.

you stared at them for a long time.

no note. no receipt. just waiting.

you wore them that day.

you didn’t ask questions.

the second gift was a book.

old. first edition. the spine worn just enough to show it had been read, but not ruined. you’d mentioned it once offhand, in passing, while brushing powder from his collarbone.

"it’s the kind of story that stays under your skin", you’d said.

now it sat on your vanity. wrapped in crimson ribbon. the exact copy you’d scrolled past on an out-of-reach rare books site five months ago.

again, no note.

but your name was scrawled in the corner of the inside cover, in that same confident, slanted hand.

"yours. always."

then came the necklace.

not flashy. not something you’d ever buy yourself. just a thin gold chain with a pendant the shape of a matchstick delicate, almost unnoticeable.

but the back was engraved.

let them strike you. you’ll burn them all.

you didn’t show anyone that one.

you wore it under your shirt.

every day.

by the end of the week, the pattern was clear: he knew you. deeply. closely. obsessively.

and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

you told yourself it was nothing. just a weird form of gratitude. just cody being cody. you didn’t even know how to define what this was.

but every time you tried to pull back, you remembered the look in his eyes. that night you told him about your ex. that softness edged with steel.

i’d never touch you like that…

but now you wondered would he touch you at all?

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you found him alone in the training ring. the place was mostly cleared out just the dull echo of ropes creaking under his weight, the hum of old fluorescents overhead.

he was taping his wrists, forearms flexed, sweat darkening the collar of his t-shirt. He looked up when you stepped into the doorway, eyes flicking over you like a habit.

"you have good taste", you said, lifting your foot slightly. the boots. still spotless.

he smiled. "they fit?"

"they fit."

you stepped closer, the toe of your boot catching slightly on the mat. close enough now to smell the chalk and cedar of him.

"and the book?" he asked, like it was normal. like it wasn’t a thing that he even knew.

you exhaled, slow. "that’s kind of what i came to talk about."

he tilted his head.

"the gifts", you said. "the... whatever this is. i didn’t ask for it."

"no", he said softly. "you didn’t have to."

"that’s not the point, cody."

he nodded like he understood. but the gleam in his eyes said he didn’t, not in the way you needed him to.

"you could’ve asked", you added. "you could’ve just asked what i liked."

He set the tape down.

"why would i ask something i already know?" his voice was gentle. confident. "i pay attention. you think i don't see the way your face changes when you talk about something you miss? the way your voice gets quieter when it matters? you told me without saying a word."

your mouth went dry.

"that’s not normal", you said, quieter now. not accusing. not afraid. just honest.

"i’m not normal."

that made you freeze.

he stood, walking toward you slowly not aggressive, just steady. eyes locked on yours like he could feel your pulse ticking under your skin.

"i know what it looks like", he murmured. "but this isn’t about control. it’s about care. i see what the world does to people like you. how it forgets you, uses you, breaks you. i'm not gonna let that happen."

you swallowed. "cody, i don’t need saving."

"no", he said. "you need someone who won’t look away."

he stopped just in front of you. his hand lifted, slow, deliberate, fingers brushing the chain around your neck, the matchstick pendant.

"i give you things because you deserve to have something that’s yours. something good. something that knows you."

"and if i told you to stop?"

he smiled, slow. not cruel. not mocking. just certain.

"you won’t."

and the worst part?

you didn’t correct him.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the next week you accidentally bled at work.

you hadn’t even noticed the gash at first.

it happened backstage, rushing between talent, touching up someone's bruising eyeliner before a promo. you brushed past a lighting rig that wasn’t fully secured, its jagged metal edge catching your arm.

it stung, sure. but it was shallow. just a scrape.

you barely registered it until you were rinsing your hands in the sink and saw the blood dripping down your forearm.

"shit", you whispered, grabbing a paper towel.

that’s where cody found you.

you didn’t hear him come in. you never did.

but the second he saw the blood, his voice sliced through the air.

"what happened?"

you turned, startled. "it’s nothing, just caught it on some rigging, i’m fine"

he was already across the room.

"let me see it."

you opened your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stole the words right out of you.

he took your arm in both hands gentle but tight. his eyes scanned the wound, jaw locked so hard you could see the twitch in his temple.

"it’s not deep", you said softly. "i’ve had worse papercuts"

he didn’t answer.

"cody."

his grip tightened. not enough to hurt, just enough to say don’t move.

"you bled", he said, almost to himself. "i didn't protect you."

you blinked. "okay…? that’s not something you can control"

"no." his voice dropped lower. shakier. "but i should’ve been there."

"cody, i’m not made of glass. it’s not a big deal"

he looked at you then. really looked. and for the first time, he didn’t just look obsessed. he looked wrecked.

"it is to me."

you felt your breath hitch. he wasn’t angry. he was panicking.

you tried to pull your arm back gently, but he didn’t let go right away.

"i can’t lose you", he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"cody. i’m not going anywhere."

that was the wrong thing to say.

because his eyes went soft in that way that meant he believed you. completely. irrationally.

"good", he breathed. "because i’ll never let that happen."

he pressed a kiss to your wrist, just below the wound. tender. careful. and completely, terrifyingly sincere.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you told yourself it was just adrenaline.

that the way your breath caught when he kissed your wrist that wasn’t affection. it was shock. that the reason you let him drive you back to the hotel, walk you to your room, tuck the throw blanket around your legs while you sat in silence that wasn’t comfort.

that was just easier than fighting him.

you told yourself all of that.

but it didn’t stop the way your chest ached when he left. and it didn’t explain why you didn’t lock the door behind him.

the next morning, your ride had already been cancelled. you didn’t cancel it.

in its place, a black suv idled outside the hotel entrance, your name flashing on the screen behind tinted glass. the driver greeted you by name. opened the door like he was told exactly how you liked it.

when you asked who sent him, the man just smiled. "mr. rhodes wants to make sure you get there safe.”

at work, your kit was already restocked. all the brushes you'd been meaning to replace. the brand of setting spray you could never justify splurging on. a new leather case with your initials stitched into the inside flap in silver thread.

you didn’t tell him what you needed.

he already knew.

your phone buzzed that night. a new number.

unknown: you need anything before your call sheet tomorrow? late runs, caffeine? i;ll send it. just ask.

you didn’t respond.

you didn’t delete it either.

later, lena caught you lingering near gorilla position, watching cody’s match from behind the curtain. you didn’t even realize you were smiling until she said your name.

quiet. wary.

"he’s got his hooks in, huh?"

you didn’t answer.

she studied you a long moment.

"the scariest part isn’t when they’re angry. it’s when they’re soft. that’s when they bury the sharpest pieces.”

you laughed. forced. "he’s not like that."

lena didn’t argue. she just said, "no. he’s worse. because you like it."

that night, your hotel room door had a note taped to it. just one line, written in the same slanted hand that had haunted your thoughts for days.

don’t bleed where i can’t stop it.

and for the first time, you realized it wasn’t just obsession.

it was ownership.

and you’d already handed him the key.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

it was late.

the hallway lights of the hotel had flickered out hours ago, and the only thing between you and silence was the buzz of an old vending machine down the hall. you weren’t even sure why you knocked.

but he opened the door like he’d been waiting.

not dressed for you. no stagewear. no curated mask.

just a black hoodie and drawstring sweats, hair damp from a shower, the tattoo on his neck still glistening like ink freshly spilled.

you started to speak, but he stepped aside without a word.

you walked in.

The room was warm. dim. not hotel lighting, he’d changed the bulbs. brought his own. the walls were lined with framed photographs from different eras: dusty barns, boxing rings, a black-and-white of dusty rhodes mid-promo. all of them carefully placed. intentional.

this wasn’t a temporary room.

this was his world.

he didn’t ask why you were there. didn’t smirk or tease.

he just looked at you like he knew.

"it’s hard to turn it off", he said eventually.

you glanced up.

"the show", he clarified. "the noise. the lights. the people wanting pieces of you, like you’re not allowed to keep any for yourself."

you said nothing.

then he did something that shocked you, something quiet.

he sat on the floor.

back against the edge of the bed, long legs stretched out in front of him. like he needed to be grounded. like standing made the weight too heavy.

"i’m not the man they want me to be", he murmured. "but i know how to wear him. i built him. brick by brick. smile by smile."

you sat beside him, knees brushing.

"and you?", he asked. "you’re not what they see either."

you swallowed. "what do you think i am?"

he looked at you then, and there was no performance in it. just raw, stripped-down heat and knowing.

"surviving."

he leaned his head back against the mattress. his voice went even quieter.

"my dad once told me, ‘don’t let this place make you mean.’ but you can’t build a kingdom with soft hands."

"so i stopped being soft."

you didn’t realise you were holding your breath until he turned toward you again, eyes shining faintly in the warm light.

"but you, you make me want to be gentle again."

the words hit like a whisper pressed into your throat.

you didn’t move when he reached for your hand.

you didn’t flinch when he kissed your fingers.

and when he pulled you closer, slow, like he was waiting for you to say no you didn’t.

you let him fold you into him. let your head fall to his shoulder. let his thumb trace lazy circles on your wrist like he was memorizing your pulse.

and for a moment, the world shrank down to warmth and breath and nothing sharp.

you told yourself this was real.

that this was him.

not the way he watched. not the way he claimed.

just cody.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you didn’t remember falling asleep.

But when you opened your eyes, you were still wrapped in cody’s hoodie, your head against his chest, his hand resting against your hip like it belonged there.

he was already awake.

watching you.

he didn’t smile when you blinked up at him. He just studied you like you were something rare. something precious. something that could disappear if he looked away too long.

"you look softer when you sleep", he murmured.

you shifted slightly, nerves tingling. "i should go."

he didn’t stop you.

but he didn’t move, either.

"if you want to", he said, quiet. "you always can."

the door was right there.

and you didn’t move.

not until you really had to.

and even then you weren't sure if you really want to.

[rosierin]

Goodness—okay, I did not expect to have to post a full-on rant on my blog but I got a pretty serious anonymous message and feel like I should address this.

So, in the message I was suspected of using AI for my writing. Now, I have a few things to say about this. Please read until the end!!

Firstly, when it comes to me as a person, I’m not sure if I fully agree with the use of AI in the art world. Although I do think it’s useful and I don’t see a problem with using it for guidance. I don’t think it’s okay for AI to ever replace art—be it drawing, music, writing or other. That’s something I’d like to first and foremost make very clear.

That being said, I wanna stress that my works are all mine. Meaning they are thought by me, planned by me, and written by me.

In the anonymous message, they raised a few points such as certain phrases and structures being repetitive—which, honestly? I can’t deny because I’m self conscious of this and it was honestly a matter of time until somebody pointed it out 🫠

I notice this with descriptions I use as well, which I will say I do tend to rinse and repeat because it’s easier for me 🥲

Ie: I almost always open a fic with a snappy one-liner to grab the readers attention, typically followed by a description of the setting (usually the quartet chilling in the living room or something along those lines).

Some examples of phrases that I use and reuse off the top of my head are things like:

“Then—“ *insert dramatic scene*

Using “silence stretched over them” or just describing some form of silence or pause in order to break up scenes and allow moments to breathe.

Using very short sentences and one-word sentences to make scenes more dramatic or snappy (I feel like I do this A LOT but I find it very addicting).

Using “—“ religiously. Okay you can literally sue me for this I love using these okay you can pry them outta my cold dead hands

Now, something that I will admit to, is using AI for spellchecking and going over the flow of my stories!!

Pacing is something I have always struggled with (which you can probably see from older fics on my blog oof), and my sister (who also writes as a hobby!) told me that she runs her stories though AI in order to get feedback and then refine accordingly!

That being said, in no way or form am I getting AI to simply write things for me. Tweak? Why not. (And even then, most times I end up preferring my version anyways 😬) But that’s as far as it goes.

Not quite sure how to end this rant tbh… I didn’t think I’d ever get any negative feedback on my blog as it’s meant to be unproblematic and overall a p wholesome place, but I do understand the points Anon made and thought it was important to respond publicly.

Hope this clears up any confusion.

[littleemissperfecttt]

The Youngest Sorrengail

About the story: Y/n is violets twin sister. Unlike violet y/n was trained to be a rider by her mother and to be a scribe by her father. The sisters have a strained relationship. Will y/n continue to resent violet because of the past or will she help her in surviving basgiath war college?

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Chapter 3

"Xaden what the hell!?" I questioned crossing my arms as his hands rested on my waist as he looked down at me. "I didn't want people to see you with me" he said as I rolled my eyes "why? Too ashamed to talk to a Sorrengail?" I questioned

"No it's for your safety" he said with a gruff tone "what the heck does you talking to me affect my safety?" I asked irritated "besides I am strong enough to protect myself so I don't need you to protect me"

He honestly looked bored hearing me, I couldn't read his expression as it was the usual stoic face. "You will be targeted more if they see you with me, you being a Sorrengail will not help either"

I sighed and shook my head "what did you want to talk about?" I asked feeling his fingers caress my waist so lightly

"We are having a meeting" he said as his fingers continued to caress my waist. Is this his unconcious thing or is he doing it for me?

"We as in your and the other marked ones?" I asked with a raised eyebrows "yes" he nodded not giving me anything other than that. I stilled when I felt his hand shift downwards to my hips "w-what are you doing?" I asked 'oh shit I stuttered why the fuck did I stuttered' I mentally cried to myself as he just smirked before releasing me as his shadows started dropping too

"Midnight today, the tree" that's all he said. He turned around and left, leaving me in a stunned silence. I didn't realise I was holding my breath till it was difficult for me to breath. What the hell is this man thinking?

I turned around to go back to the gym when I literally bumped into someone large making me stumble back and draw my dagger out "woah there" the person infront of me held his arms out as though he's surrendering

He was a tall, very built man. I have seen him with Xaden. Whenever I saw them together I always wondered if they were a couple. One time when I snuck around the marked ones I heard this guy call Xaden 'Honey Bear'. Since then I have seen those two in a different light.... Until today....

"Oh I am sorry I was startled" I said as I put the dagger back in its place in my leather jacket

"I never thought I would hear a Sorrengail say sorry before" he chuckled I raised my eyebrows

"Why not? We are humans too you know" I rolled my eyes "and the last time I checked humans make mistakes"

He was stunned I could tell, his eyes were wide as though he saw a ghost. His mouth opened and then closed as though he was a damn fish

"You are staring and it's getting creepy" I glared at him crossing my arms

He cleared his throat scratching his back "I was...umm... Not expecting that from you" he was clearly embarrassed.

"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" I asked as I raised my hand for a handshake "Y/n Sorrengail"

"Garrick Tavis" he said proudly his earlier embarrassment gone as he shook my hand

I nodded my head "did you need anything?" I asked curiously "you were standing behind me after all"

He took a deep breath "Xaden told me you wanted to help us and.... I wanted to see you in person... He is the best judge of character but I wanted to make sure" he shrugged

I nodded my head understanding, he had every right to doubt me with my mother being who she is

"I saw what you did" he continued as I gave him a confused look "with Ryan... Your opponent... You are strong and..." He cleared his throat as though the words that would come out of his mouth are making it difficult for him to talk "thank you for suggesting that you would help him with the training"

I nodded my head "of course he is strong but he doesn't know how to control his movements or his temper"

He nodded his head understanding "You know if you are interested you could spar with me anytime after dinner" he said looking away

"Sure! I would love that!" I said and smiled at him "I will get going now see you later Garrick"

I turned around and left to go to the gym. That was so weird they both are so weird. I shrugged my shoulders as I entered the gym to watch the match going on

-

That night....

I slowly crept out of the room to the shadows as it led me to the tree Xaden had mentioned. He was already there so were a dozen- no more than a dozen marked ones

"Damn, Xaden." I heard Garrick say as I got close to them but not close enough so they could see me. I know Xaden knows I am here as I saw his eyes flicker my way "Way to give a pep talk."

"If they need a fucking pep talk, then we both know they're not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let's get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable." He turns his head from Garrick to the first year I think I know this guy. "In war, people die. It's not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It's snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There's nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur. This"-he gestures back toward the citadel-"isn't some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It's hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home...to whatever's left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant." He leans forward slightly. "So if you won't get your shit together and fight to live, then no. You're not going to make it."

'Damn he knows how to give a speech. What even did the first year ask for him to give this kind of speech?' I thought to myself

After he said that no one said a word NOT ONE WORD he really is their leader

"Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve," Xaden orders.

"Battle Brief," a first-year says softly. "It's not that I can't keep up, but the information..." She shrugs. "That's a tough one," Imogen responds, turning to look at Xaden.

"You learn what they teach you," Xaden says to the first year after a second of thinking his voice had the same gruffness he used when he talked to me in the shadows of his signet. "Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to"

Now I get it... All these people know about what's happening outside of Basgiath maybe even the wards

"Anyone else?" Xaden asks. "You'd better ask now. We don't have all night."

'Awww they call this man a heartless guy?' I thought to myself. One thing that cleared my mind is Xaden is just a big softie who is helping his juniors, if it were anyone else in my position tonight they would think they planning a huge conspiracy to take over the throne, 'I am going to have so much fun with this information' I thought as I smirked to myself

"When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail and Y/n Sorrengail?" a guy in the back asks. I can just kill this guy here without hesitation before he could even move to protest but I stop myself from doing so I needed to earn their trust

"Yeah, Xaden," Imogen says sweetly, lifting her pale green eyes to look at him. "When do we get to finally have our revenge? I want dibs on the twin. I had fun with Violet today. I am going to have so much fun with her sister atleast she's going to give me a challenge"

Xaden cleared his throat "about that... I think you all saw what Y/n Sorrengail did today?" he asked, the first years nodded their heads so did Imogen, Garrick and Xaden's cousin

"She said she would help me with sparring" Ryan Duskborne said to everyone "even though I spewed non sense to her"

Garrick nodded his head as Xaden gestured for me to move forward toward them and I did. As soon as I came to view there was a gasp from all the marked first years

"What the hell is she doing here Xaden!?" Imogen demanded as I met her seething stare she had already drawn her dagger out. I tilted my head assessing her

"Y/n here has agreed to train some of you in her free time" Garrick said "and also help us with our stuff" he was vague but they knew what he was talking about

"She knows!?" Imogen was angry now "how the hell does she even know!?" She stridded towards me, I could feel anger radiating out of her body. I rolled my eyes at her gestures

"You know picking on the weak won't do you any good" I said as I shrugged my jacket off "Picking on my sister instead of me to prove you are strong actually makes you look weak than making you look strong"

She was getting angrier "You think you are better than everyone?" She asked with gritted teeth as she launched a punch at me, 'this again? I thought I was done hearing the same line again and again' I thought to myself as the only thing I wanted to do was go back to bed instead of dealing with this bullshit, but alas I was already here and had made a deal so here goes nothing

As Imogen was about to punch me in the face I deflected and kicked her right in the face making her fall down, her whole body now lay flat on the ground as my feet was placed on her face not ready to let go of her. I heard another wave of gasp when I kicked her. Her pink hair was all over the ground

"My sister is physically weak I am not, you cannot bully me the same way you do to my sister. Imogen Cardulo if I see you near my sister again, trying to bully her I will make sure you are six feet under" I said as I twisted my leg on her face making her grunt in pain "or better yet I will cut all your hair down so you will be bald it will be your badge of honor of losing to me" I kicked her face before turning towards the crowd

"I am not here to give you all an apology and I know it is not my apology you want to hear, Yes I am a Sorrengail but that doesn't mean I am to take my mother's burdens on my back. My mother is an individual of her own as am I. I am Y/n Sorrengail and I am not my mother, so are you all… You are not your parents which is why they made a deal with Xaden or you all would have been as good as dead by now… We are not our parents so don't waste your time and energy, wasting it to take it out on me or my twin" I said calmly but loudly so everyone present was able to hear

I turned around to see Xaden's cousin and Garrick helping Imogen up "I hope we get along well Imogen" she glared at me and stormed off to who knows where

"Don't worry she's just pissed you were able to beat her up in just a kick" Garrick gave me a small smile which I returned

Xaden cleared his throat breaking his silence "well Y/n will be helping us and you saw she can manage on her own. She is also stronger than all of you so I hope you all will not make a plan to do some shit. If there are no other questions you guys can leave" he said as the crowd dispersed

Garrick gave me a smile before he left with Xaden's cousin. I turned to face Xaden "what?" I asked as he was looking at me weirdly "that speech…. Was nice… You could be a politician maybe even a duchess with that speech" he said

"That was flattering thank you" I smiled and looked up at him but his gaze was somewhere else I saw his shadows reach there as he pulls someone out

My eyes narrow at the figure 'of course it's her' i thought as I glared at her

"What are you doing here violet?" I asked as I crossed my arms and walked towards her "what am I doing here? What are you doing?" She asked glaring at me "I was here to talk to Xaden" I said calmly

"You are going to help them!?" She demanded "where was this help when my shoulder was dislocated today?"

I sighed "you didn't ask for help and you can't expect me to help you without you asking"

"I don't need to ask you! You are my sister!" She said, if she was thinking logically she wouldn't have said that, I know she thinks Xaden is nobel for helping his juniors

"You are angry Violet let's talk later" I said as I walked to grab my jacket

"No! You always say that and we never talk! We are going to talk now!" She said angrily "If mom finds out what you are doing she is going to be pissed Y/n"

I sighed if she wants to talk I will talk "you think I care Vi?" I asked crossing my arms once again

She scoffed "of course you don't, you never have! You weren't even there when they burnt Brennan's stuff! You never have viewed us as your family"

"I wasn't there huh? Why don't you ask yourself why I wasn't there Violet!" I snapped back "remember what happened that day? Remember how Mira pushed me down the stairs because I was a 'curse' in her words I took her brother because he loved me the most? Of course you don't! I was getting treated for almost three days and you nor her came to visit!" I yelled

I felt Xaden's hand on my back, it was a small gesture but for me it was huge. Today I am going to tell her everything, I will pour out all my frustrations out to her SHE asked for this not me. I don't care if Xaden is here or if he will listen to our past, all I care for right now is getting all my feelings out

"What was even my fault that Dain came out of nowhere and confessed his feelings to me? Did you really think I was going to steal your crush? Do you really think so low of me? Did you have to throw a tantrum so hard when you found out, they had to send me away because of your tantrums Vi! Brennan didn't visit you much because he wanted to make sure I wasn't alone! And then I lost him too I had no one literally no one to hold me, NO ONE" I sobbed as I turned around and ran to my place, my solitude in this hell

Violet's pov-

I shouldn't have said that. I regret every word that came out of my mouth. To be honest I was jealous not of her but of them. She wanted to spend time with them help them with their flaws. I wanted my sister, my twin to help me but I didn't open my mouth and ask her. I just expected her to do it because we are blood related not caring for her feelings.

I know she wouldn't have accepted Dain but I still threw a tantrum because I didn't want my sisters attention to be on someone else. If she had found a boyfriend then she would have completely forget about me. I threw a tantrum so she would notice me more but I didn't think our parents would take it so far to send her away to some trainers house. I just wanted my sisters attention not anything else. I was jealous of Brennan too he was able to meet her whenever he wanted but our parents never let me meet her because they thought we didn't like each other

I looked at Xaden with desperate teary eyes "I-i didn't mean that!" I sobbed "p-please go after her please" I said as i kneeled down taking her jacket and hugging it

"I would have even if you didn't ask" he replied "you both need to talk or you both will kill each other because of all the miscommunication" he turned his back to me and jogged his way to where Y/n left to

He was right we most definitely need to talk to one another. I have to tell her that she's my baby sister and would always be that way. I just need an opportunity to talk to her

Xaden's pov-

I didn't know their lives were this messy. I thought they were just spoiled brats who were fighting each other for their mothers attention but this is deep so Deep. Their parents separated them for so long because of which their communication has gone hayway and both of them think the other hates them

I found Y/n crying as she made herself a space between the two trees. This was the place I first talked to her. She is very mysterious on her own. We are so much alike each other. We carry our own burdens and have no one to rely on.

"I want to be left alone Xaden" she said as she looked up at me with her red tear filled eyes. My heart clenched tightly looking at her face I moved forward even after she said that "please Xaden" she chocked out those words.

I encircled my arms around her pulling her close to me as she started crying in my chest as I held her tightly. No words passed between us I just let her cry her eyes out

After a few minutes she calmed down as pulled back a little to look at me "Thank you" she whispered as I held her close in my arms not wanting to let her go and it seemed like she also didn't want to leave my arms yet

"I am sorry you shirts soaked" she said smiling a bit "its fine" I caressed her hair

She looked at me with those big eyes making my heart melt even more her eyes met mine as though asking if it was truly okay. I gave her a smile and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

I felt her hand clench my shirt tightly "don't look at me like that.." I said "why not?" she asked 'I might just kiss you' I thought to myself as I looked at her, she was looking at me waiting patiently for my answer

Instead of giving her an answer I let my intrusive thoughts win as I ducked down and kissed her. She gasped at the sudden feeling of my lips on her but she reciprocated it a second later. I closed my eyes holding her tightly loving the way our lips moved one another, 'but I can't take advantage of her' that thought came to my mind. She just had vented all her feeling to her sister just minutes ago she is not ready yet and she is not in the right headspace

I pulled back and looked at her as she blushed and hid her face in her hands. I chuckled at her behavior "what is this? did I make THE Y/n Sorrengail blush?" I teased as she peeked to look at me

"Xaden..." she whispered placing a hand on my chest "t-that was my first kiss"

I was stunned as my jaw dropped "what?" I asked shocked

"That was my first kiss" she repeated blushing "I am honored to be your first kiss then" I kissed her again

"We have to go now" I said sighing my wingleader responsibilities showing up "its a big day for you tomorrow"

She nodded her head "I have to practice for the Gauntlet" I hummed in response not wanting leave her or this moment we are sharing together "then I will have the threshing" she murmured to which I smiled "you will get a dragon"

"You seem confident in me" she said

"Of course I am" I replied "my dragon Sgaeyl likes you"

'I do she can stare you down so well, she even made you speechless' Sgaeyl said in my head

She giggled "pretty girls like each other" she replied and I heard Sgaeyl huff in my head

'I should have waited two years for her to join, I would have chosen her' Sgaeyl said

'You are stuck with me Sgaeyl' I replied

'Unfortunately' she said and shut down our communication leaving me speechless

I pulled back fully before standing up and holding out a hand for Y/n to take "Good luck tomorrow" I said

She smiled and thanked me before turning around and walking away

-

Back to your pov....

The next day

"Keep the temperaments of each specific breed in mind when you decide which dragon to approach and which to run from at the Threshing" Professor Kaori says,then he changes the projection he's conjured from a Green Daggertail to a Red Scorpiontail. He's an illusionist and the only professor in the quadrant with the signet ability to project what he sees in his mind, which makes this class one of my favorites.

After last night I avoided Violet like a plague it looked like she was avoiding me too. I took a deep breathe to concentrate on what Professor Kaori was saying

The Red Scorpiontail in the center of our circled tables is a fraction of its actual size, six feet tall at most, but it's an exact replica of the actual firebreather waiting in the Vale for Threshing.

"Red Scorpiontails, like Ghrian here, are the quickest to temper," Professor Kaori continues, his perfectly trimmed mustache curving as he smiles at the illusion like he's the dragon himself. We all take notes. "So if you offend him, you're-"

"Lunch," Ridoc says, and the class laughs. I wanted to sit alone far away from everyone but Ridoc and Swayer dragged me and made me sit between them said something about helping them focus in class

"Precisely," Professor Kaori responds. "So what's the best way to approach a Red Scorpiontail?" He glances around the room

They prefer that you approach from the left and from the front, if possible," a woman from one of the other squads answers.

"Excellent." Professor Kaori nods. "For this Threshing, there are three Red Scorpiontails willing to bond." The image changes in front of us to a different dragon.

"How many dragons are there in total?" Rhiannon asks.

"A hundred for this year," Professor Kaori answers, changing the image again. "But some might change their minds during Presentation in about two months, depending on what they see."

I raise my eyebrows at the statement "That's thirty-seven fewer than last year." Violet says from beside Rhiannon

"Will they tell you why they won't bond?" another first-year asks "No, jackass," Jack scoffs, 'I hate this guy' I thought to myself glaring at Jack "Dragons only talk to their bonded riders, just like they only give their full name to their bonded rider. You should know that by now."

Professor Kaori sends Jack a look that shuts the first-year's mouth "They don't share their reasons," our instructor says. "And anyone who respects their life won't ask a question they're not willing to answer."

"Do the numbers affect the wards?" Aurelie asks from where she sits behind me, tapping her quill against the edge of her desk.

Professor Kaori's jaw ticks twice. "We're not sure. The number of bonded dragons has never affected the integrity of Navarre's wards before, but I'm not about to lie to you and say that we're not seeing increased breaches when you know from Battle Brief that we are."

The image changes to Sgaeyl, the navy-blue dragon bonded to Xaden. Oh she is so pretty I could stare at her all day

"You won't have to worry about how to approach blue dragons, since there are none willing to bond this Threshing, but you should be able to recognize Sgaeyl if you see her," Professor Kaori says.

"So you can fucking run," Ridoc drawls as his arms spread out behind me as he rests it there

"She's a Blue Daggertail, the rarest of the blues, and yes, if you see her without her bonded rider, you should…definitely find somewhere else to be. Ruthless does not begin to describe her, nor does she abide by what we assume to be what the dragons consider law. She even bonded the relative of one of her previous riders, which you all know is typically forbidden, but Sgaeyl does whatever she wants, whenever she wants. In fact, if you see any of the blues, don't approach them. Just…"

"Run." Ridoc repeats, raking his hand through his floppy brown hair.

"Run." Professor Kaori agrees with a smile, the mustache above his top lip quivering slightly. "There are a handful of other blues in active service, but you'll find them all along the Esben Mountains in the east, where the fighting is most intense. They're all intimidating, but Sgaeyl is the most powerful of them all."

"What about the black dragon?" the first-year next to Jack asks.

"There's one here, right?"

Jack's face lights up. "I want that one."

"Not that it's going to matter." Professor Kaori flicks his wrist and Sgaeyl disappears, and a massive black dragon takes her place. Even the illusion is bigger, making me crane my neck slightly to see its head. "But just to appease your curiosity, since this is the only time you'll ever see him, here is the only other black besides General Melgren's."

"He's huge," Rhiannon says. "And is that a clubtail?"

"No. A morningstartail. He has the same bludgeoning power of a clubtail, but those spikes will eviscerate a person just as well as a daggertail."

"Best of both worlds," Jack calls out. "He looks like a killing machine."

"He is," Professor Kaori answers. "And honestly, I haven't seen him in the last five years, so this image is more than a little outdated. But since we have him up here, what can you tell me about black dragons?"

"They're the smartest and most discerning," Aurelie calls out.

"They're the rarest," Violet adds "There hasn't been one born in the last… century."

"Correct." Professor Kaori spins the illusion again "They're also the most cunning. There's no such thing as outsmarting a black dragon. This one is a little over a hundred, which makes him about middle-aged. He's revered as a battle dragon among their kind, and if not for him, we probably would have lost during the Tyrrish rebellion. Add to it that he's a morningstartail, and he's one of the deadliest dragons in Navarre."

"I bet he powers one hell of a signet. How do you approach him?" Jack asks, leaning forward in his seat.

"You don't," Professor Kaori answers. "He hasn't agreed to bond since his previous and only rider was killed during the uprising, and the only way you'd ever be near him is if you're in the Vale, which you won't be, because you'd be incinerated before you ever got through the gorge."

The pale redhead across the circle from me shifts in her seat and tugs her sleeve down to cover her rebellion relic.

"Someone should ask him again," Jack urges.

"It doesn't work that way, Barlowe. Now, there is only one other black dragon, which is in service -"

"General Melgren's," Sawyer says from beside me "Codagh, right?"

"Yes. " Professor Kaori nods. "The eldest of their den and a swordtail."

"But just for curiosity's sake." Jack speaks again for my irritation "What signet ability would this guy gift his rider?"

Professor Kaori closes his fist, and the illusion disappears. "There's no telling. Signets are the result of the unique chemistry between rider and dragon and usually say more about the rider than the dragon. The stronger the bond and the more powerful the dragon, the stronger the signet."

"Fine. What was his previous rider's?" Jack asks.

"Naolin's signet was siphoning." Professor Kaori's shoulders fall. "He could absorb power from various sources, other dragons, other riders, and then use it or redistribute it."

"Badass." Ridoc says

"He was," Professor Kaori agrees.

"What kills someone with that kind of signet?" Jack asks

"He attempted to use that power to revive a fallen rider-which didn't work, because there's no signet capable of resurrection-and depleted himself in the process. To use a phrase you'll become accustomed to after Threshing, he burned out and died next to that rider." Professor Kaori says glancing at me and Violet. Brennan I thought

So Naolin sacrificed his life for my brother's and the result wasn't even good we lost two riders that day. Two very strong riders

I let my thoughts drift to places as the bell rang and all the cadets started walking out. Ridoc asked me if I was going to join them but I shook my head and told him I needed sometime alone. Sawyer squeezed my shoulder as though telling me I wasn't alone. The squad knew there was a sudden shift between me and Violet as they noticed we weren't even looking at each other. Before we were at least on speaking terms. So they made sure we both were alright in their own ways

I saw Violet go to Professor Kaori to talk about something while Rhiannon gave me a quick smile. Ridoc promised me he was going to get me something to eat before they left. I closed my eyes and let it fall on the head rest of the chair

I felt a tap on my shoulder "I didn't know you guys were going to come back so soo-" my voice faltered as I opened my eyes to meet a pair of blue eyes staring at me

"I am guessing I am not the you were expecting" he said "I am Liam... Liam Mairi..."

Masterlist Next Chapter>>

Tags: @lreadsstuff @lagrandeourse @littlepippilongstocking

[amoromniaodium]

The Pitt x Animal Kingdom

Jack Abbot - Andrew Cody

I am not sure about this but had to put it out there. Obviously there is a clear time difference between the shows but well too bad.

—

What if Jack Abbott was born Jack Cody?

What if he was the third of triplets — and the one who disappeared? After Julia was kicked out, what if Jack left too? Joined the military. Vanished.

What if Pope had just gotten out of prison — fragile, volatile, and unraveling — and suddenly, for the first time in years, he wanted to find his brother?

Not just out of longing, but out of need. He needed to know that Jack — the “normal one,” the better half — had survived. Had lived.

What if Jack had a life now?

A wife. Kids.

A career.

What if he had died in Afghanistan?

Pope wouldn’t know.

Because Jack had never come back. Never called.

He needed to know.

That’s why he kept building that stupid rock fountain.

One stone at a time.

Because of him.

And what if Pope finally did find him?

Not dead — but alive.

Discharged after an injury.

Now a doctor. An attending. In Pittsburgh.

Jack Abbott, M.D.

A man with a new name. A new life.

And Pope — the brother he left behind — saw it all.

The clean white coat. The normalcy.

He had been abandoned.

Left with their mother.

Left to rot.

Left to take the blame.

While Jack became something good.

He had to see him.

—

What Pope never realized was that his brother was just as damaged as he was — only in a different way. He thought Jack had survived untouched.

Clean. Whole.

He didn’t see the cracks hidden under the surface.

Pope lost his first family by being left behind to rot in prison.

Jack lost his by walking away.

And when Jack left, he lost something even bigger — his soul.

The part that knew how to stay.

He built a second family far away, in a country falling apart. And then he lost them too.

What Pope doesn’t know is that Jack’s “injury” wasn’t a clean wound. It was half his leg ripped away. Gone.

What Pope doesn’t see is that every single day, Jack thinks about the brothers he left behind — and hates himself for surviving.

What he doesn’t realize is that, sometimes, deep in the night, after saving a life that should have been impossible —Jack is glad he left.

Glad he escaped.

And he hates himself for that too.

—

And then—on the worst day of Robby’s life—Jack shows up again.

And he just stands there.

In the middle of the hallway.

Not saying a word.

He’s grieving something else entirely that day — something huge- his mentor death — and suddenly, this man appears that looks like Jack but doesn’t act like him.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t introduce himself. He just looks at Robby with something wild in his eyes.

Desperation. Anger. Grief.

He recognized himself in there.

And what if Samira — coming out of a patient’s room — almost walks right into him?

Stops cold.

Feels something electric in his eyes.

Something deep. Familiar. Wrecked.

She stares back, speechless.

Because he looks just like Dr. Abbot.

But not quite.

This man is rougher.

His stance more defensive.

His silence loud.

He looks like a story she was never told.

Like pain she can’t name.

And no one knows who he is.

Not yet.

—

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "Liar's Honor" the May Short Story

Growing up it had been normal to travel from town to town with your father, to smile and repeat what he had told you to say. He was always so cheerful whenever he set up his stand at the market square, chatting with people and offering whatever he had pulled from his pack. Things you had never seen him buy or trade for.

You didn't really think much about it when you were little, because good sales meant the best meals and warm, soft beds in nice inns. If there wasn't a good selling-day, your father ate nothing and the two of you stayed in whatever cramped little room he could find.

As you got older, however, you started to understand what your father was. He stole things and sold them a town or two over, lying with great skill about the importance and worth of the items.

He truly had a silver tongue and could sell a simple wooden ring for the price of a copper one by making folks believe that it was a blessed ring. Mostly though, your father was good at selling dreams.

Many people wished for things to be easier, for success to find them quicker, for their fortune to grow by itself. Even the sceptics, deep down, wanted to find a blessing, a less perilous path in life. 

Your family didn't hold even a smidgeon of magic, but you wondered if your father had lied about that as well, because even the most hard-hearted and clear-minded folks grew softer and more considering because of his words.

It didn't always mean that they fell for his schemes, but neither did they say anything, leaving with lingering glances cast to his wares.

Your father, once you started asking questions, demanding answers and explanations, started to teach you his trade. He taught you how to be nimble and quick, how to smile at people like they had just met their next best friend and could, therefor, trust you with their lives. How to talk so they felt flattered and emboldened and more careless.

He taught you how to haggle, how to always, always keep hold of your friendly veneer, no matter how much you wanted to smack someone upside the head when they were dead-set on shortchanging you. Just because the wares were stolen didn't mean that they had lost their original value, after all. 

As you grew older, becoming as cunning and silver-tongued a thief as your father, you found another way to make money or to get commodities offered to you: impersonation.

What you couldn't steal you made yourself so you could pretend to be a cleric of one of the large temples or to pass as a traveling noble and once or twice as a scholar on an important mission.

You were smart about your disguises, only pulling them out of your pack if it was necessary. There were few things that would see the hounds of the law nipping at your heels faster than pretending to be someone high and mighty for more than a night or two every couple of months. Well, that and stealing from the high and mighty.

You also got into increasingly more arguments with your father. You both knew that expensive things sold better, but it that also meant those were harder to come by, that they were better watched.

You did not like robbing people who had little or who had just enough to live comfortably. You wanted to go after the rich, the greedy, the assholes who'd rather eat their gold than share it, who'd never look at the destitute with compassion but rather with disdain.

Who'd do anything they could to ensure no one uninvited managed to climb the ranks to reach wealth and influence. 

Your father was of the opinion that, as long as it kept him fed and housed and clothed, anyone was fair game. The two of you argued so much one day, that you packed your things and left, marching out into the cold april air with all the indignant pride of someone who knew they were right.

But your father was an equally prideful man – the two of you shared many traits and yet, some days, you were as different as night and day – so he just let you go with a huff and a shouted, "We'll see how you'll do on your own!"

You did well on your own- after a rough, rocky start, truth be told. You managed to make some friends here and there – fair weather ones, but it was always good to know where you might find someone with arcane talents – and you robbed who you wanted. The rich, the greedy, the shitty. 

The ones who thought that a title they had inherited meant it somehow made them better than anyone else. As if nothing but the luck of the draw stood between them and being literally anyone else in the world.

People were just people, after all. Messy and ugly and beautiful and determined, creative and stupid. Everyone was everything, sometimes even all at once.

You made good coin, good enough that you got a few more disguises, some forged paperwork and other credentials to be invited to places a gutter rat like you would never get to set foot into.

You left many a shindig with glittering jewels jingling in your pockets and more information that you could make use of. More marks to rob.

One other disguise you had picked up was that of a hero. Heroes were loved, they were everyone's favorite friend and the most favored chew-toy of the nobles. Who didn't love a suicidal idiot they could toss at problems? Especially problems they had caused themselves.

You got good at swindling others by demanding to be paid up front, only to skip town – or ten towns, depending on the influence of the robbed rich guy – never to be seen again.

Right up until, as you left a hero guild hall, a squeaky call made you pause. Turning, your sword clinking against your armor with the movement and fancy cape swish-swashing about, you blinked in surprise. The being hurrying towards you looked like a bipedal, knee-high bat, dressed smartly and with a fluttery little cloak atop it's wings.

It was, without a doubt, the cutest little critter you had ever seen in your entire miscreant life. You had to viciously bite down on the urge to drop down on one knee and ask this bat about its entire life story.

"Good hero!" the bat called out and you immediately felt uncomfortable. 

You weren't actually a hero, after all. The sword at your side was rusty because that was how you had stolen it and you never drew it. You were a swindler, after all and many a monster could not be reasoned with. Mostly because they were balls of rampant rage.

"Good day to you as well," you still greeted the little guy with all the respect and aplomb you could muster. 

"Good hero," the bat gasped as it came to a stop near you, out of breath and fiddling with its wings as though nervous. "Please, may I entrust you with my contract?"

The little guy sounded rather desperate, you noticed, big eyes peering up at you in a way that made you want to cave immediately. You had been confronted with many big, cute eyes over the years, but never to that extend. It put even your own innocent-eyed performance severely to shame.

"There is a blackboard within the guild hall," you said, gesturing at the door. It was likely too big and heavy for the bat, so you offered, "Shall I let you in?"

The bat, which had started to pull out a little letter from it's pocket, faltered. It clutched the letter close and suddenly it's shoulders fell.

"No one takes it," it said quietly. "They just laugh, say it's not worth their time and the pay isn't enough to make up for the trouble." Its lips quivered and you immediately resolved to rob each and every asshole within that guild hall blind. "But we can't pay more." It held the letter out to you, eyes big and shiny and already braced for rejection. "Please, good hero, save us."

You weren't a hero. You didn't even know a whole lot about monsters – well, you knew about human monsters, but that hardly counted here. Your sword was rusty, your armor just for show and your fighting skills boiled down to running real fast and tossing the occasional, distracting object.

You had reached out and taken the little letter before you could think about it and the bat gasped, clasping it's wings close to its chest. "Truly?" it whispered. "You will help?"

"Sure," you croaked out, because apparently you were the biggest sucker who had ever lived. The bat squeaked the cutest little excite noise, flapping its wings.

"Oh, marvelous! Thank you! You truly are deserving of your title! Here, payment!" With those words it pulled out a little pouch and deposited it in your palm with a big, happy smile. "We are worth the trouble, I promise! Oh, I'll have to tell the others, thank you so much!"

With those words it rushed away and you were left behind with a cute little letter and a cute little pouch.

"Fuck," you whispered.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Feel free to head to my patreon and ko-fi or give the masterpost a poke! There are plenty of different short stories to be found!

And thank you all so much for your support! It means the world to me and makes writing and sharing stories a real joy. I hope you're all having a great time of day!

[stelladess]

I feel like sometimes gacha players got pretty unrealistic ideas when it comes to what they think some characters should get focus/major spotlights.

Some characters, using an example who I really love here to make clear I am not saying this to diss any character, like Cutter, are just not created with the intention to do any bigger stories with them. Characters like Cutter are pretty straightforward and the little development they get can easily be fit into operator records and minor cameos in other events. For marketing purposes an alter will always need to be a major player in the story they get added in.

So I doubt Cutter will ever get an alter despite her popularity, same for say Ethan.

I often see the sentiment that a character should not get an alter because they have already gotten development and story focus. But I feel this misses that they got an alter specifically because they were a character that has a lot going on story and development wise (Wis´adel, Reed), or the potential for it (Jessica, Thorns). Alters are not meant to spotlight obscure characters but to show the development of a character. This does sometimes mean a more minor character getting a boost in prominence but generally this will mean a character who already has had screentime and some degree of character arc, although a not yet fully complete one.

Some characters are just, in the grand scheme of things, not important. There is no big enough story to make a whole event out of it to be told with this character at the centre. Which is fine, it would be exhausting if every character was. But gacha games make money by selling us on characters so even if Cutter has a satisfying complete story told entirely in background stuff it can feel unfair that she does not get her own special event.

The only way to really have everyone get their time in the limelight would be an approach like what Honkai Impact 3rd does where they have a smaller cast but every character gets a ton of alters. But most people seem to for some reason not like that approach despite how convenient it is for making a more cohesive story (hi3 story is great btw). But also I do not think that approach would work for Arknights. The various characters like Ethan or Cement help convey the feeling of Terra being a world full of people instead of a story about a few core characters. Which helps make "this great land" feel alive and how Terra itself is important in shaping the people on it is something that I really like with Arknights.

Mostly I just wanna say that I think expecting some character with no real story importance or who has had an event that gave them a complete self contained story do not need to get an alter and there is no real reason to do so. Compared to a character whose story is not complete and ties in heavily with the important themes of their storyline. Which will often mean 6 stars being prioritized for alters because 6 stars are prioritized for story important characters for marketing reasons.

[tryandbehappy]

Why the Conflict Between Nick and June in Season 6 Feels Inevitable

When we talk about Nick’s possible “betrayal,” it’s important to see the truth: it won’t simply be about politics, alliances, or external circumstances. That’s just the surface. The real reason has been building for a long time. It’s emotional. It’s personal. And it’s been quietly growing between them, scene after scene, year after year.

It feels like they are pushing this tension to its maximum point.

I’m not certain, of course I never claim to predict the storylines but based on my observations, especially after rewatching and making videos since Season 1, the patterns are crystal clear.

So no matter what political situation they put around it, that’s just noise. The real story is much deeper.

It seems that soon June will ask Nick to do something wildly reckless.

Something that will cost him too much.

And just before that, there might be a moment of closeness, a moment when he once again feels like she hasn’t fully chosen him. After cheating on his wife

And there, at that tipping point, Nick will have to decide between two impossible choices.

On one side, his need for safety, for survival, for the fragile life he finally built.

On the other, her fire, her recklessness, her need for him to burn everything down for her one more time.

And maybe for the first time, he simply won’t be able to do it.

The First Core Conflict: Different Natures

Nick always chooses safety.

June always chooses risk.

And there’s something that’s important to understand about Nick.

His need for caution, for staying quiet, for keeping his head down it’s not because he’s naturally cold or unfeeling.

In fact, we know Nick can be impulsive.

We saw it in his backstory, when he punched a man without thinking. He has fire. He has emotion.

But Gilead taught him something brutal:

If you stand out, you die.

He learned to survive in a world where any mistake, any rash move, could cost everything.

He’s seen too many people disappear. Too many friends executed.And so he buried that impulsiveness deep down.

He taught himself to live by quiet, invisible rules because that was the only way to stay alive.

And June…

June with her wild spirit, her refusal to bow, her fearless defiance —

She terrified him. Not because he didn’t admire her.

He loved her for it. But because he knew exactly how fragile life was in Gilead.

And every time she risked herself, Nick knew there was a real chance he wouldn’t be able to save her.

And that fear, that helplessness,

is part of what’s been tearing him apart all along.

It’s been there since the beginning.

In Season 1, Nick told her to say what the Eyes wanted to hear, to stay silent and survive.

She didn’t listen and was beaten.

In Season 2, she screamed for the keys to the truck, ready to make a reckless escape alone, and he could only watch in agony.

Or After June’s confrontation with Fred, when she was hurt and her face was bruised, Nick found her.

He immediately realized something terrible had happened. He was so worried and helpless like AGAIN??? Why do you always have to be like this?

“It’s okay” she told softly knowing situations like this piss him off

Again and again, Nick has tried to anchor her.

Again and again, June has followed her fire.

Even in Season 6, when they meet, Nick says, “maybe keep a low profile”

“It’s hard for me sometimes”

“I remember”🫠

It’s not just about strategy.

It’s about the fundamental way they live.

The Second Core Conflict: Different Understandings of Love

June believes she is choosing Nick with her heart.

But Nick feels she is not choosing him at all.

Because Luke is still in her life. Because she stays with him, out of loyalty or guilt.

And Nick — Nick who loves once and fully — cannot be second. Cannot be half-loved and a secret (I can assume he hates cheating)

To him, her hesitation feels like rejection. Even if she doesn’t intend it.

Where It’s Heading

The pressure is reaching its breaking point.

Nick already saved Luke.

Nick already killed two Guardians to protect her. And then had to do dirty work by ending the one in a coma.

Nick already risked his life, his standing, his future all for a woman who, in his heart, he feels has never fully chosen him.

And now, June will probably ask him for something even bigger. Something even more dangerous.

And he will have to say no or whatever.

Not because he doesn’t love her.

But because he cannot keep destroying himself for a love that is killing him.

This is where the real fracture will come. Not from politics. Not from loyalty to Gilead or the Americans.

But from two hearts finally reaching the point where they cannot pretend anymore.

And in the end, we have to remember:

this conflict isn’t being built to destroy them, it’s being built to resolve them.

Yes, the tension between June and Nick will explode.

Yes, it will look, for a moment, like they are losing each other for good.

There will be hurt, betrayal, anger.

There will be a breaking point.

But the real purpose of this storyline isn’t to tear them apart.

It’s to finally bring everything to the surface —

all the buried feelings, all the unspoken pain, all the unfinished choices.

They won’t be able to just walk away and pretend it didn’t happen.

They won’t be able to leave this fracture unresolved.

And the show will have to give us clarity:

What really happened between them.

What they truly feel.

I truly believe that after all the hurt,

after the inevitable collapse,

their real feelings will finally break free.

And only then,

only after everything has been stripped bare,

will we finally get our answers.

[count-thotticus]

Night Whispers

Pairing: Sylus x MC (she/her pronouns used)

Rating: G

Word count: 1k

Summary: Instead of a day at the park, MC takes Sylus out for a meteor shower for his birthday.

Hey everypony it's April again and that means it's Anime STL FicFest time. This year's theme was "anniversary", so since our boy's birthday just passed, I elected to write about him. It's my first time writing about sylus and tbh I'm not actually that far in the story so apologies if he's ooc.

“April 18th,” he’d said, when she had done little more prying than sit in his lap and bat her eyelashes. “That’s my birthday.”

Sylus, the big bad boss, untouchable dragon-hearted leader of Onychinus, had cracked and told MC information previously unknown to even those closest to him without her even finishing the question.

“My, my,” Luke and Kieran would say later, “Bossman must really like you. He doesn’t tell that sort of thing to anyone!” And she would blush and look away, but never tell them the date he’d given her. No, that tidbit of information would remain a whispered promise kept behind her sealed lips.

MC spent the next few days endlessly thinking about how best to celebrate this man who’d done so much for her. What did you even get a man who had everything he wanted at the snap of his fingers or a tap of his card? She couldn’t just get him a gift - no, it had to be something memorable, an experience maybe.

MC spent hours searching the internet for events coming up either in Linkon or in the N109 Zone, weighing the times, crowd levels, and Sylus’s potential enjoyment of the activity, and came up with nothing. Every time she would find something with potential, she remembered: one, Sylus is nocturnal and prefers to go out at night, and two, he’s a wanted criminal. This of course didn’t stop him from indulging her at the arcade once a week, but she didn’t want to be the one to put him in a risky situation.

It was on a sleepless night, just a couple days before his birthday, when inspiration struck her like a bolt of lightning. Or, well, more like a shooting star.

MC had tossed and turned so much that she finally decided to just get up and make a cup of tea. As she sipped, she gazed out the window of her apartment and a light in the sky caught her attention. Of course, she thought. Tara had sent her a link to the Deepspace Tunnel website announcing the meteor shower that was to take place this week. A quick search told her peak visibility was in just 2 days - April 18th, just after midnight.

How lucky.

MC stopped by his base that morning and dropped off a small note, detailing a time and place to meet her the following night. Sylus called her immediately, of course, but she refused to divulge any information. He did love the chase, after all.

~*~

The evening of the 17th came and MC packed a basket with all the supplies she'd gathered. Sylus, ever craving her nearness, insisted on picking her up on his motorcycle. Basket strapped behind her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist as he sped toward the park.

“So are you going to tell me what this mystery outing is all about, kitten?” Sylus asked as they walked off the path, deeper into the field of spring wildflowers. MC carried the cake, delicately packaged in the bakery box, but Sylus had insisted on carrying the heavier basket and rested his other hand lightly on the small of her back.

“Patience, Sy. We're almost there.”

They crested a small hill to see a soft glow emitting from the meadow clearing and MC said a silent thank you to Luke and Kieran who'd agreed to help her set up. They'd laid out an ornate blanket and weighed it down with protocore powered pillar candles at the corners. As an added touch, she noticed, they'd laid out a small radio already playing one of Sylus’s favorite albums. It was one that he'd gifted her shortly after they'd first met, and she was touched by the twins’ thoughtfulness.

Sylus’s hand snaked further around her waist and he pulled her close to his side when he saw the scene. “All this for me?”

MC turned to see him smiling tenderly at her, his eyes softening from his usual aloof demeanor. “I'd move the stars for you, Sylus,” she responded, shutting her eyes and leaning into him as he leaned down to kiss the crown of her head.

She stepped out of his hold and trailed her open hand along his to gently tug him to sit on the blanket. He let her unpack the basket and arrange the dishes how she liked before pouring them each a glass of wine. Just as they settled in, the first meteor shot across the sky, drawing both of their attention.

He let out a gravelly chuckle. “You weren't kidding about those stars, huh, kitten?”

“Anything for you, birthday boy.” Just then, MC’s watch dinged with the stroke of midnight. She held out her glass in front of her. Sylus’s eyes never left her as he tapped his glass to hers. “To you, on your birthday. Thank you for telling me so we could celebrate.”

He hummed in appreciation and added, “And to us. May this be only one of many celebrations we share.”

Without breaking eye contact, MC took a sip of the dry red and couldn't help but giggle at the love struck look Sylus was giving her.

“What's so funny, kitten?”

“Nothing, Sy. It's just silly to me how the walls of the big strong leader of Onychinus crumble at the smile of a pretty girl.”

He let out a deep chuckle of his own. “Not just any pretty girl,” he growled, “my pretty girl.”

He brought his hand to cup her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips. His warmth melted her but as much as she wanted to give in immediately, she had one more surprise for him.

MC reached behind her for the bakery box and set it in Sylus’s lap. His large hands lifted the lid of the box to reveal the ornate cake within. He let out a surprised hum as she lit the candle and watched the flame dance in his garnet eyes with fondness.

“Happy birthday, Sylus.”

[girl-named-matty]

She tagged this with Baps username so I'm gonna share my personal story with them real quick. This is genuinely the only way I got them to stop reposting my content.

PREFERENCING THIS!!!

THIS IS NOT A CALL FOR A WITCH HUNT!! I swear if ANY of y'all send baps death threats, I will personally block you. That is NOT okay, ever. This is not an excuse to send any sort of threat or hate to them, this is just my personal experience with them. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, DO NOT DO IT!

So sometime last year, I asked my friend to reach out to baps on my behalf and tell them not to repost my content on their pinterest. This is her message & this was the reply she got.

So then I ended up doing some sleuthing and I found the account baps used on tumblr under the username of "cicialekvar" (they have since changed this and I can't find them again.) But everything matched up, it was them. (I have a screen recording comparison as well)

I ended up confronting them over things on a separate account, not letting them know who I was, and told them that they were stealing and reposting content, even tho it had "credits" it was still stolen and they needed to take my things down. I spoke to several screenshot creators prior who had had their things reposted and got proof of them saying they were not comfortable with them being reposted.

All the replies I got were them trying to play me as some sort of fool, calling me stupid, saying I had no idea what I was talking about and that I should "be doing something better with my time & that I could "sit on my account another day!" (in their exact words)

I ended up reaching out to them on my own HL pinterest myself, expressing how I felt and asking them to stop and they never replied.

Baps didn't take the pins down that had my screenshots, but they did stop reposting my content after that. I'm yet to find their new tumblr but genuinely the only way to get them to stop is to confront them about it. Pinterest has already done nothing about taking down stolen pins.

"But they credit!" Half of the time they get it wrong. And I don't care if they credit, if a creator has said no, IT MEANS NO!! Half of the screenshot creators on tumblr already have pinterests you can go follow with their content on it. This goes the SAME for the many artists who have had their content stolen by baps as well!

Baps has even reposted things that explicitly state "DO NOT REPOST" making it clear that they don't care. They want the exposure from it, not to give exposure to the creators.

Everyone wants to complain about how nobody is making HL content nowadays but if you do not support creators, they are going to stop making content! If you don't support creators from the source and instead support their reposters, THEY WILL STOP MAKING CONTENT!!

The new HL update has already made it so extremely hard to do any sort of in game photo content now with how many issues it has had. Please don't give screenshot creators another reason to leave.

There could be a huge chance that they are following several content creators right now under their noses and stealing content. Please reblog this so people will go support the true authors of the content and not a reposter!!

SUPPORT THE SOURCE OF THE CONTENT, NOT THE REPOSTER 👏👏👏

One of my screenies got stolen AGAIN I stg.