#ft. cody

[exterastris]

"Could you save a poor darling, my friend? Broke a nail doing inventory and its been a stressful day - figured the cure was a proper manicure far away from carboard boxes and jar of pickle relish and mustard. Can’t be more stunning than you, Ryder.” Imogen smile despite the pain radiating in their finger, nearly ready to cry at the broken nail. “How has your shift been, people treating you alright? If not you send them my way, make their chili extra spicy or the salt may go missing on their table”

The scratch of the nail file against the acrylics on his own hand were soft, articulate and filled with precision. He'd been doing this for many years before coming to Everwood, wanting to have sharp nails to keep himself safe. Sure, his ex hated it, but this is why he fully embraced it now. Weapons, that's what they were.

Hearing the bell ring gently at the door of Beautello, he looked over with a smile and a slight wiggle of his fingers as a wave. He stood up, walking over to the host counter and smirked. "How can we make you stunning today?"

[hooked-on-trout]

hello!!! if you’re alright with it, could you draw alecody? /nf :D love your art by the way

i keep bouncing between different pens idk whapt’s better .. .. anywhoms thank you anon

[th30ra3k3n]

if you're thinking it's because we were drinking

well, that don't mean that it don't mean much

cause' it did and it does

the truth of it is that i wasn't that drunk

i was tipsy when you kissed me

but that ain't why i kissed you back

i'll be honest, i've wanted to do that, to do that, do that

(oh so long and oh so bad)

then last night, it happened so fast

i'd do it over, i wouldn't think twice

(cause’ lying here sober, it still feels right)

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dedicated to all the writers who write about theo and liam drinking wolfsbane-laced alcohol and end up kissing. i eat that shit up every time, especially if liam kisses theo first. 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♀️🧎

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there’s one y’all should read but i can’t remember the name or author 😀

theo and liam are a little buzzed and they play rock paper scissors and liam says that if they do the same thing, they have to kiss.

that’s all i remember but i know i liked it 💀

[fraxi0m]

monday night rhodes

[pluplupluto]

Squad goals‼️‼️

[creationsofthepenguin]

I just got an amazing au idea concerning Fives and Echo.

So, after the Rishi moon situation, Cody and Rex decide to fold the twins into a battalion instead of keeping them on guard duty, and Rex ultimately takes them into the 501st. But. What if Cody was the one to take them and they became a part if the 212th?

Cody would have ten times more migraines then he usually does, caused by none other than Fives who would get along with Wooley like a wildfire. Echo would be his only saving grace, and both if the twins would become marginally more capable under Obi-wan’s and Cody’s leadership then under Anakin and Rex, mostly because Obi-wan, unlike his padawan, had actual plans.

The events of the Citadel remain unchanged and Echo still gets taken by the Techno Union, but when Fives discovers the plot about the chips (lets act like Tup was with the 212th as well) he goes to Obi-wan and Cody. They, unlike Anakin, have always known that there was something wrong with the war, especially with the knowledge that there was a Sith in the senate. Fives also knew that the two of them were compassionate and would listen to him no matter that the Chancellor said, so when he asked to meet them he set no traps.

When the two do show up, they immediately realize that something’s wrong with Fives and take him to a ship while he talks and they listen. They listen and by the time they make it to Bones who gives Fives an antidote for whatever poison the Kaminiise injected him with, Obi-Wan is on call with the Council.

A few hours later and all of the GAR is on comm blackout so that no calls go in or out, and the Council is storming the senate dome, sabers blazing. They kill Palapatine, the Separatists send negotiation requests days after that and the war is over just like that. They find Echo after raiding the Techno Union, and the twins live happily ever after along with the rest of the vode who are granted citizenships.

[exsanguinatc]

@misaligncd said: Do you know what passion is? - for Cody & Elijah

Possessive and competitive love meme (accepting)

Cody didn't answer for a long time, eyes cast down and staring at nothing. Is that what he thought of her? Maybe it wasn't so far off. The dhampire was closed off to a fault. She had more interactions with her customers over the internet than she did with real people, and none of those meant anything. They were just a way to survive. They never made her feel anything. Nothing did. Sometimes she worried that nothing could. Maybe something within her was too broken, too stunted, to feel anything, least of all something as real and raw as passion was...and the thought terrified her. She didn't want to be numb. "Show me." She said softly before she looked up at Elijah and stepped closer to him with the shadow of fear in her eyes. Desperation. She needed to feel passion. Or anything. "Please. Please just...show me."

[faithdeans]

do you still have that old mpreg player?

Hell yeah I do

[silascody]

Characters: Silas Cody, various mentions / allusions to others. 

Timeline and setting: April 25th, 2023 + Lone Fir Cemetery in Portland, Oregon. 

Trigger warning: death, child death, grief, cancer, drugs, suicide ideation. 

“I think you’d have smoked Acapulco Gold, if you’d smoked,” Silas says as he tilts the matchbox he’s just retrieved from the pocket of the jacket he had to take off due to the heat to free one, striking it against the headstone he was sat beside to light up his joint. “Or maybe you’d have been a Bubba Kush kinda guy. Lemon haze?” 

He lets that question hang in the air as he takes a long, lung-deep toke as if he was waiting for his brother’s voice to speak back to him with answers. It wouldn’t, it never did, and somehow that hadn’t gotten easier with the passing of time like all those stupid pamphlets and well-meaning wishes had told him. 

According to his birth certificate, Portland was his home, the city that raised him but it had never quite felt that way. Not even twelve years in California with five of those spent locked in a cage had been enough to restore any rose-tinted memories for him of the first place that had ever left scars on his body. 

For the first four years of his life, eerie children’s characters painted on chipped hospital walls had been his most frequent friends, unblinking eyes that watched him silently as he tried to be a brave boy like his mother demanded while his body was poked and prodded and used as a last lifeline for the dying boy who was the only reason he existed in the first place. That had been Silas’ job, the only one that ever mattered, to save Jack. 

( Four years old was too innocent to truly comprehend the magnitude of death. ) 

“I wish we could have smoked together. Or just done anything together, really. Sometimes I wish that you lived and I died, I think you’d have done it better than me. Living. I only knew you for four years but you were the best guy I ever knew. If it had of gone that way, I don’t think mom would have forgotten to smile the way she did and maybe dad wouldn’t have drank so much. I think you guys would have been sad a while but you’d have moved on. We could never move on from you. We were never allowed to. It made me hate you. Man, I fucking hated you.” 

His head leans back against the black marble headstone that bore gold lettering with JACK CODY carved into it along with his birth and death date. The picture of the beaming boy that was displayed on it with his brunette hair still intact before treatment bore a striking resemblance to the weary man tapping ash into the patch of grass that separated his brother’s resting place from someone else’s loved ones. 

They had always looked the most alike, the oldest and youngest of the Cody boys, and Silas had adorned his body with various tattoos and images from his teen years in the hopes that maybe if they were less similar his mother would have been able to bear looking at him. 

“Not really though. It just made being here without you easier. I’ve always been better with being angry than being upset, you know?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can’t help but notice the vibrant arrangement of blue irises that had to have been freshly placed for how they had been fairing against the weather, his hand reaching out to brush his fingertips against their petals as he held his spliff in between his lips. 

“Mom’s still alive then,” He observes after he exhales, feeling equal parts relief and revulsion at knowing that. It makes him curious about if she had ever found herself sat in the same cemetery as he was, at the same grave, sharing the same regrets. It’s been years since he had seen her face but he could picture it so clearly due to how regularly he saw her in that state, cheeks tearstained after weeping for the boy who had been dead for longer than he had. Had she ever wept for the wayward one that still had a heartbeat on any of her visits? 

He would have settled for wondered if not, to be a fleeting thought in the mind of the woman who had given him life for no other reason than to prolong her firstborn’s was better than being nothing at all which is what he felt like most of the time. 

( Thirteen years old was too young to die. ) 

“I don’t why I thought she might visit me, when I was in prison. I wrote her a letter, tried to say I’m sorry for being such a fuck-up. Not just with the drugs and shit, with everything. She never wrote back, which should have been my first clue but, I don’t know. Every week when visiting hours would roll around, I thought maybe she might show and sit across from me and maybe hold my hand or something and we could try and mend some shit.” There’s a humourless laugh that leave’s his mouth then, that kind of naivety was something he hated in other people and he would never have confided this in anyone living, which made Jack the only person he could really talk to these days. 

“You wouldn’t know but, let me tell how it goes after someone dies, people rally. They show up. They look out for you, but then they show up less ‘cause they moved on. Moved forward, even if you’re still stuck in it. That’s what prison is like too. Six months, a year, people show up to visit, they accept your calls, they write you. But then you hit two years, and three, four and you start to see that you’re just not important to people like that. It doesn’t fit with their life anymore, because they’re moving forward and you’re just stuck there. Living out the same fucking day, day in, day out. Sometimes I used to hope someone would start shit with me just for something to do,” He knows that Jack would have laughed at that, the same way he always did when Silas found himself in a wrestling match in the living room with Nathan, who was three years older than him and had always been built like a brick house even back then.

As much as he loathed Nate, he had taught him a valuable lesson early on – it was just as important to know how to take a punch than it was to be able to throw one. 

“Remember that girl I told you about last time I was here? The one I said I’ma marry one day, you don’t even wanna fucking know how that turned out.”

It’s harder for him to make light of that topic as he did every other one, even when speaking to deaf ears. Some part of him knew that if he felt less for Jordan, it would be easier to speak about her – but he’s never been good at doing less when she was in the equation. 

Ever since they had first crossed paths he’s always wanted more from her – to love him more, to need him more, to give him more. More, more, more while all he had to offer her was himself which had a track record of always being just a little less than. 

It had never occurred to him that he had been expecting too much, not until her visits started to be missed and his calls started to be screened. 

“She’s prolly better off without me around but, classic Silas, can’t have that. So I been keeping tabs on her fucking daily even though I've been out for two years. Day they let me out that cage I had this stupid fucking notion in my head that she’s gonna remember why she gave a fuck about me in the first place and she'd be there outside the gates waiting for me even though we hadn't spoke in four years. She wasn't, so I went on a two week coke bender with this chef chick that I met the day I was released and the rest of the last two years have been a fucking blur of trying to forget about her.” He clicks his tongue then, a shake of his head following as he crosses his ankles so he can stretch his legs out in front of him, keeping a stoney faced expression despite the sympathetic smile aimed his way by a dark-haired woman who was trudging her way towards a cluster of headstones just passed where he was sat. 

“No such luck, not that it matters. I think she hates me, and in some ways I get that ‘cause they tell me getting released is getting a second chance but I haven't done shit with mine.” 

( Thirty three years old was too old to change. ) 

Even with the debts that he had racked up just before he was sent away and while he was in there now cleared, he has no idea what the fuck he wants to do with his life. After seven years removed from what he considered his norm, it takes him by surprise that he’s starting to see cycle he was caught in. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it? You and me kicking it here forever. Seems like no matter what I do, it always comes back to me and you.” 

Silas, Jack. Jack, Silas. Oldest, youngest. Selfless, selfish. 

A boy taken too young and a man who’s lived longer than anyone anticipated. 

Finally, he’s getting himself up off the ground, patting off stray blades of grass that hand clung the fabric of his dark jeans before he reached down to pick his jacket up. 

“I’ll be honest with you man, I don’t think I’m going to be back here again. It just hurts too much to be in this city and to be here. I don’t how much more hurt I can handle, which probably makes me sound like a pussy but it’s just the truth. I want you to know that it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about you ‘cause I never could. You weren’t just my big brother, you were my best brother. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” 

[heyits-asher]

✨ + silas!

Ash 📲 Silas

Ash: i kno im an apprentice n all but when do i get handsaw privledges Ash: priveleges* Ash: privileges? @silascody

[th30ra3k3n]

when you close your eyes, what do you see?

do you hold the light, or is darkness underneath?

in your hands, there's a touch that can heal.

but in those same hands, is the power to kill.

when you look at yourself, are you a man or a monster?

you can't take back the damage you've done.

oh, you can hide, but you can't run.

no, you can't take back the damage you've done,

afraid of what you might become,

a man or a monster.

dedicated to all my fellow theo raeken stans and apologists. what’s it say about us that our favorite is a reformed traumatized, gay little bitch?

[hanemonade]

0.5 angle: noel’s forehead edition

[aiden-stevens]

👄 + silas!

"I wouldn't have given Silas a second look, and any bit of the respect I did at the age I met him at if it wasn't for what he offered me. Not for any reason other than I was a shithead to any adult, and he wasn't like an adult adult at first.

But he gave me an opportunity I couldn't turn down, and any dumb fifteen year old sees good money and lacks the concept of consequences - well, I still do, I guess - but I very quickly started looking up to him. He wasn't afraid of doing what he did, he was smart about it, and he knew how to make money.

Fuck the law, and all.

I don't know, I don't think brothers are supposed to get you into dealing, so it's kinda hard to define But at the time, okay- I'm not good with words, You can ask Phoebe, she knows better than anyone that I'm shit at it.

But, I didn't have one. I didn't really have a dad then. Yeah, I did, but it didn't count for much then when he never paid attention to me.

Silas did, because I was useful. I could do something right for one, and do it good. Might've not been the best thing, but he took a chance on me. It really sucked when he disappeared. I know he was locked up, but fuck, it really, really sucked.

I should've visited, but it was also around the time my dad got worse, and I let it slip by. It's weird to see him now, though. Not out of prison, I mean just walking the straight and narrow. I guess at some point we all need to nut up and become normal fucking members of society."

@silascody

[dashedwithromance]

THE KINDEST THING —

Drawn forwards by guilty conscience, she leaned over his prone form and gently unclasped his helmet. Pulled away carefully, only to drop the thing against the ground and stagger away when she saw his face and that familiar, trailing scar.

“Cody?” She breathed, horror staining her voice.

—

Five years on from the death of everything, Ahsoka and Cody run into each other. They talk.

[wrestlingchampions]

2022 in AEW TNT Champions (x)

[fragmcntedsouls]

continued from here // peyton morgrave ( @xlcsinggrip )

“Woah, woah woah, what’s your beef with frozen 2?” Cody taunted as he settled himself back into the couch pillows, arm resting against the headrest. “Charlee’s the boss around these parts and if that’s what Charlee wants, that’s what Charlee gets” he grinned, catching the remote as it came hurtling into his direction. The ping of the microwave caused for him to urge forwards, before Peyton encouraged for him to keep searching for a movie. Chuckling, he then relented and did as he was instructed before she revealed her crossed fingers, “-- and I can’t believe I fell for that. Props to you if you find one though, i've been looking for weeks.“