#shame on you autocorrect

[pencildragons]

listening to tmagp is so fun because every time something even VAGUELY related to the tma fears i open up my messages to my best friend, who without fail has already listened to and digested the episode 1-3 business days before me, and do the closest thing any human being has come to screaming through a telephone

[shadesofmauve]

Mom and autocorrect are both calling me out.

[heartshattering]

no no no no I can't be getting a "how to make your life perfect - step one - just clean your entire house! :)" post right now at 5 AM after I just took half a sleeping pill fuck I don't want to redo my entire life right now I can't do it it's too overwhelming it's too much for me to handle like I know I need to clean but fuck it's too much I'm gonna explode just from the thought of it I just can't I can't I can't

[theorderofthetriad]

me literally six months ago: i'll probably have the next chapter out in two weeks!

[hauntingblue]

Rong ring rong raingo time

Zoro making that speech reminds me of ace and how he treated luffy at the start, maybe not because of the same reasons but zoro is calming chopper down bc he KNOWS luffy and the others (and him) would not let him be taken without trying everything they could... there is ko use for crying and zoro is repressed but of course he would not say he cares but he does so of course he tells him to shut up bc he can't handle how chopper makes him feel... Also Foxy taking chopper for being cute and not because he is a doctor and that if they first wanted chopper to join bc he was a doctor he ended up joining bc they really became friends....

Legendary find

Look at these losers... zoro's hair is blending with the grass akdbakjka

Lettuce and cheese... the Burger Brothers

Robin supports nami's wrongs ✊🏻

Chopper being cute again

He is so slow ❤️

Seeing robin become a luffy enabler in real time is such a joy

HE IS THE MAN!!! Robin seeing luffy say that and believing it because she thinks she is expendable.... look how surprised she is... I think it's not just because she's surprised luffy got up but bc she realizes he is including her in his fight... he is also doing this for her

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[nkogneatho]

𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄- 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

—cw: fem!reader, male and female masturbating, fingering, fistfucking, pillowfucking (put me in a cage pls), desperate gojo because i'll never shut up about that. not proofread.

—a/n: i wish his seiyuu had an asmr channel just like nanami's so this drabble would've been longer. enjoy though <33

You're used to stalking the social media of people you go out with. It comes naturally. Well you live alone in this city, and you sure as hell don't want to stumble across a creep with no defense. You never know what's crippling it's way across this sinful city at night. The questionable news reports just added the oil to the fire of your anxiety. So it was natural that tonight, you were stalking another one of your dates. Gojo Satoru. You knew he was pretty popular when those hand had to leave yours to dap or fist bump his peers on your first date. It's almost as if fifty percent of the city knew him, like a celebrity. If he was really so popular, it would be easy to dig up info about him.

That's what led to you eagerly scrolling past his Instagram, flipping through each highlight as if you were a child who just found the greatest comic book.

party,

party,

and parties.

it was like his mantra the way his entire feed was just him dancing under the influence, in outfits too expensive and champagne to rich. He bathed in the luxury and the people around him were pleasuring off the drops sprinkling. So perfect that he had everyone wrapped around his finger. But won't he do the same to you? Overpower you. All those riches and he decided to go out with you, just so he could make you one of his whores, you were sure about that.

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, tossing your phone away. "Guess i'll have to use my hand again."

You opened your laptop, went incongnito typing the first letter, but your autocorrect knew better. It's like it has memorised what you do at this hour. But autocorrect works on algorithms so you were sure it's your fault that you visit the site so frequently.

The porn website was open and you clicked on search button, specifically typing "hot men jerking off webcam." It was one of your favorite things to watch.

You scrolled through the popular videos you had already watched maybe a million times. There was a reason they were popular. So you just changed the filter and selected "new to old". After rummaging through some of the boring videos, your eyes landed on the preview of one with the most beautiful cock. longest even. Curiously, you click on it. The video starts with the man rubbing his boner through the boxers. You put a hand inside your panties, and all you want right now is for him to take his boxers off. After a few minutes, he does and his long light peach cock springs out. when he leans back, your eyes do a double take.

is that gojo fucking satoru??

And indeed it was. The man who earlier gave you the rich spoiled misogynistic son vibes was now moaning like a slut, begging his viewers to ride their imaginary pussy. He had zero shame. Although...why didn't you log out?? Why did you not switch to some other video?

Because holy shit he is fistfucking his cock like an animal in heat. The chair is shaking and making squeaking noises but fuck who cares about that. Listen to his moans. His fucking whimpers. He changed his placement and now he was on the bed, had the pillow folded in half only to start ramming his dick into it. God! Is this the real Gojo Satoru? Is this what he is? A camboy whoring his body out. Because he has generational wealth so there's no way he is foung that for money. So the only logical answer is because he is such a fucking pussywhore that his exhibitionist cock only cums when there are others watching it.

Your fingers starts vigorously pumping in your cunt. They weren't long enough to reach and you were actually wishing Satoru was fucking you instead of that pillow because look. Look at that long dick. Look at the pretty flushed tip with his precum glistening. Fuck, how'd he taste on your? Sweet? Sour? But you know it would taste warm and filthy for sure.

The man in the screen increases his pace and so do you, imitating him. you want to cum at the same time. you want to see what his cum looks like on the gray pillowcase. your middle finger starts stimulating your clit even more while Satoru in the screen is now snapping his hips rougly against the bed, in the pillow. you imagine yourself in the position. Prone Bone. Never tried it but if it is what he is doing, then you're sure as hell down. It's the way his thrusts can be heard banging against the wood under the mattress even if there's not skin for his to slap against. compared to what other camboys do, talk about how they're going to ruin your dirty little pussy, gojo's is different. he does say he'll ruin your pussy but it's hotter because it is followed by endless pleas.

"fuck—lemme ruin this pussy—anh! please, yeah? gonna make you feel so good, baby please?" almost as if he is actually fucking someone. and you don't think twice before assuming he is talking to you. It's okay to be delusional sometimes. Specially when his words make you cum so hard, that you are whining at the lack of more girth to clench around. you look at the screen and Satoru came too. And he was whimpering. Like actually whimpering because it felt so good. Hot strings of cum now soaked in the pillow. Shit.

When you come back from the bathroom after washing yourself, you hear a notification. you pick up your phone to find a "Free tomorrow night?" from the same man who indirectly made you cum so hard tonight. And after what you saw today, you would be a fucking idiot to miss a chance like this.

"Yeah, Of course. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

*Sent*

[incorrectbatfam]

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

[versusvirtuous]

Descendants Characters as Glee Quotes Part 2

Morgie: People think I went on vacation, but I actually spent the Summer lost in the sewers.

Queen of Hearts: You know there's only one person in this world who can tell you what you are

Red: Me

Queen of Hearts: No. Me. Queen of Hearts

Evie to Mal: I'm gonna say this as nice as I possibly can, but you look like a sad clown hooker.

Uma: I  just try to be really really honest with people but I think that they suck ya know

Ben to Audrey: YOU ARE A MENACE TO THE STATE OF AURADON

Hades: Look at me. Even in the heat of battle, I'm so elegant, regal. I am Ajax, mighty Greek warrior.

Uliana to Bridget: The English language lacks the requisite words to express just how much I dislike you

Red: Let me autocorrect that for you. I tried to break into the Wonderland zoo to get us live tigers but PLOT TWIST: Wonderland doesn't have a zoo! Why did we think it did?

Audrey: Who is more rock n roll than Justin Bieber? No one. That's who.

Hades, leaving the apartment with Maleficent's comforter and Hook's pillow at the break-up.

Maleficent: I'm pretty sure he just took my comforter

Hook: Bitch took my pillow

Red: Are we dating or what?

Chloe: Wait, isn't this a date? Aren't you paying? Cuz I ordered shrimp.

Jay: Are you questioning my badassness

Carlos: I'm Carlos De Vil and I'll be auditioning for the role of kicker

Evie: Mal, quit hogging the bathroom, I needs to re-pencil my eyebrows onnnn

Carlos: Stop the violence

Evie: I'm so depressed I've worn the same outfit twice this week

Chad: I'm SLUT SHAMING YOU, BEN!

Uliana: I will make an environment that is so toxic

Uma: I just need to look good. And I do.

Harry: Gil, lock the Door

Gil: I don't know how to do that

[darkbluekies]

Hey if you don't mind me asking, what are you working on rn?

Why don't i show a few of them? :)

Autocorrect will stand for the weird things I will hopefully take care of when editing

dbs SS Normandie (project name) — all 5, male detective reader [releases 11th may]

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, cocking your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly.

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says.

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.”

(Have two smaller parts because the other teasers became longer)

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry.

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding.

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip.

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by.

Foreign queen (project name) — Edmund, female reader

You sit down on the bed with your head in your lap, waiting for something to happen. The castle makes sounds, as if it is trying to communicate … and for the moment it is the closest thing to comprehensible you can hear. 

The door unlock again and you look up from your hands, only to be met by the king. He closes the door behind him. You freeze. He lets his eyes wander over you with a small smile. 

“Beautiful”, he says. 

“What do you want?” you whisper. 

“You have a beautiful voice when you don’t yell or cry. Shame I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He moves over to the bed, standing in front of you. You look up at him. He moves his hand slowly towards your face to move a piece of your hair out of your eyes. You sit frozen under his touch, too scared to move. The man points to himself. 

“Edmund”, he says. 

You recognise a name when you hear it. 

“Edmund?” you whisper hesitantly. 

He smiles and nods. Your accent makes his name feel new, personalized. It’s your name for him.

“Yes, Edmund, that’s right”, he says and points at you. “You?”

“Y/N …”, you whisper. 

Edmund stands still for a moment before his smile widens. Hearing your name makes him feel euphoric. 

“Y/N”, he says, tasting your name on his tongue. “Y/N.”

Edmund smiles.

Sick (project name) — hedwig, gender neutral reader

The chauffeur helps you up the stairs as you enter the georgian mansion. Your legs give up halfway and you almost crash into the stairs. The chauffeur grabs you quickly.

“Sorry”, you whisper.

“Don’t be”, he says.

He leaves you on Hedwig’s bed and asks if there is something he can get you. You shake your head. Even if you did need something, you still feel weird asking random people to get it for you. the few times you’ve done that, you’ve offered to pay but they’ve always turned it down. You’re not Hedwig, you aren’t used to having a dozen people do things for you. You have your own two hands and legs and are fully capable of doing things yourself.

“Should I get you some medicine?” the chauffeur asks. “I’m sure miss Hedwig would like it if I do.”

You give up, your head aching too much to discuss what you do or don’t need. You agree to him buying the medicine. As soon as he leaves, you change into your pajamas and tuck yourself in, hugging Hedwig’s teddy bear. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, there's a faint knock on the door. You pry your eyes open slightly to see the chef sneak in.

“What should I do for you?” he asks.

“Hedwig recommended soup”, you mumble.

“In that case I will make soup.”

He disappears again. You fall asleep within minutes and doesn’t notice when the chef comes in with steaming carrot soup, or when the chauffeur comes with the medicine. You first wake up when Hedwig leaves kisses over your face.

“I’m sorry for waking you, sweetheart”, she whispers apologetically, caressing your face. “But I got worried. You haven’t touched the soup or the medicine at all.” She feels your forehead softly. “Have you taken your temperature yet?”

“I have been sleeping”, you explain and cough loudly.

Hedwig furrows her brows worriedly and helps you sit up. She smiles as she sees you hugging her teddy. You cough again and she caresses your hair, looking as worried as if you'd have cut your arm off.

Like father, like son — Edmund + his son Ludwig, female reader

Edmund returns a few days later when everyone is asleep. Ludwig meets him in the hall and fixes his hair quickly.

“Welcome back, father”, he says.

“Has everything gone smoothly?” Edmund asks nonchalantly. “Has my wife done anything she shouldn’t?”

“She hasn’t!”

Edmund smiles. “That’s my girl. Well, where is she? Is she sleeping?”

“I believe so, father. She has been feeling a little … down … so …”

Edmund twirls around and gives him a stern gaze.

“What?” he asks coldly.

“I haven’t let her out of her room since the day you left. She has been forced to rest.”

Edmund practically runs to your shared chamber, wanting to get to you as quick as possible. He opens the door to find you sleeping in the bed. He sinks down on his knees in front of you and brushes the hair out of your face. You open your eyes slowly and he smiles.

“Hi, my jewel”, he whispers lovingly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Edmund”, you gasp, somehow happy that he’s back, that you don’t have to deal with Ludwig anymore.

He hugs you and brings your face into his neck. His arms sneak around your waist.

“Ludwig has been telling me that you’ve been feeling a little down”, he whispered into your hair. “What happened, my dear?”

“Nothing”, you replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. Tell me.”

[vanhelsing-if]

How do the ROs text? What do they have Van Helsing saved as in their phone?

dracula: weirdly good, can use text speech correctly, makes fun of spelling mistakes/autocorrect, sends you several messages a day and will triple text w/o shame, does not use caps or punctuation.

osyka: very eloquent when texting, does not understand text speech, uses their forefinger, will attempt to get everything they need to say into one message, prefers to call or email.

eli: rarely texts and prefers to call, when does text it’s very blunt, gets everything they need to say out in one message, replies in five seconds or five days.

vic: spelling mistakes galore, shortens words so much they no longer make sense, unable to send a paragraph and just sends like 13 short messages instead, uses caps and punctuation but not always in the right places.

dracula and osyka currently have you saved as your first name.

eli has the Institute’s number memorised, but currently doesn’t know your personal number.

vic has you saved as boss man/lady/person.

[writefightandflightclub]

“Yes man” (Cecil Dennis {fuck me, how did I get here} x fem!reader)

Summary: Blurby McBlurbFace. Mainly chat, slight fluff, smut, pining / friends to lovers vibes.

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Warnings: alcohol consumption; drug use mentions (weed); smoking; dumbification of Cecil, I guess. Mommy kink if you squint. Public erections / handjob sorta, premature ejaculation / cum in pants. Mentions of dead fish but no fish were harmed. Actually, a surprising number of animal metaphors. Oops. Rimming I’m sorry that one snuck in very last minute Omg.

A/n: having a shitty mental health day (boo) and this Cecil blurb (whilst not my best) is my self-care ☺️ I don’t remember his character well aside from wet bloody cat boy, but I’m damn sure not rewatching that again so this will have to do 😅. Feedback appreciated! 🧡 (Is the rimming too much? 🙈) Not proofed and I’m almost positive autocorrect will have screwed me over.

Also totally inspired by @my-secret-shame’s meme and @foxilayde’s amazing blurb. I will not pretend to have had an original idea! 🧡

“Come onnnn, Cecil,” you whine, poking him in his soft belly with your index finger. He giggles lightly, almost like a hiccough. “It’s always me coming up with the ideas. What do you wanna do next?”

He turns his head as though in slow motion. Moves as if he’s underwater, this one - at least when he’s got food and several beers in him (which is most of the time). He looks up. Blinks at you; dumbly. “What do you mean?”

Eh. You’d really thought your statement had been quite clear.

You resist the urge to pinch his cheek and tell him It’s a good job you’re pretty.

“I mean, that I suggest things, and you go along with them.”

He blinks again. It’s like everything is just a little slower in Cecil’s world. Takes a little longer to filter through. It’s refreshing, in a way. He’s in no rush, and it encourages you to slow down too. To smell the roses.

Cecil is beyond easy-going, come to think of it. Goes with the flow like a dead fish. You’re pretty sure, in fact, that he’d go along with just about anything. With just about anybody’s hare-brained schemes, without once thinking through a single one of the potential consequences.

Scratch that - he probably already has done just that; which would explain a lot of the trouble he’s routinely gotten himself into since you’ve known him.

Though, you suppose, in a way that’s refreshing too. You always did worry too much.

Besides, he always seems to muddle through, somehow. Though quite how has you stumped. It’s hardly due to his charm or his smarts, now, is it? Even so, despite whatever attributes he is lacking in, you can’t deny that he must be doing something right. Trouble simply seems to slide right off the man’s back. Like water off a… well. A dead fish, you guess. What a versatile metaphor.

He blinks at you again. Maybe those big pretty cow eyes help, just a teency bit, to get him out of trouble, you would wager.

Look at him though. You’ve never seen anyone more relaxed. Practically horizontal as he’s hunkered down in the booth, seated next to you in the corner of your usual dive bar. Maybe there’s something to be said for all the pot and seedy hotel room fucks he indulges in. You bet his shoulders are inordinately loose. Maybe he really does have it all figured out, despite appearances.

As you ponder this, Cecil -eventually- makes a non-committal noise, before his bloodshot, glassy eyes flick back to the TV hung up on the wall. He is barely even watching it. Just letting it happen to him, like he does with most everything else.

That’s probably why you’ve never fucked him, you realise, like a bolt out of the blue. He’s pretty, sure. But you wouldn’t.

You don’t mind control - that’s not it. You don’t mind taking charge. But with Cecil? You think he’d take it lying down - a little too literally. If you’d ever suggested you and he fool around, you’d never know for sure. Never know if it really was his idea - a thought or desire he’d ever had before - or if he was simply far too agreeable and opportunistic to decline. So agreeable, that he’d let you ease your vagina up and down on his cock until you came on him. You were intrigued by the thought, sure. But you refused to go there simply because Cecil couldn’t come up with anything better to do.

You look at him, and immediately bat that thought - the vagina all over cock one - away though, as you regard his complete lack of gumption. It’s tangible. Look at him now, for example. He’d seemed to like the way the air from his non-committal noise had filtered over the neck of his bottle, tucked under his folded chin. Indeed, he is now pursing his full, curvy lips, and blowing over the mouth of it until a soft series of “hoots” fill your booth.

You fold your arms and sigh.

You reckon that will amuse him for the next ten minutes at least, so clearly, once again, Cecil’s not the one coming up with a plan for the remainder of this evening.

It’s not that you ever really have to do anything with Cecil to have a good time. It’s just that, tonight, you’re antsy, and it’s making your thoughts wander in directions. Down below his zipper directions, so help you.

“Beer’s empty,” Cecil states flatly, finally noticing after sucking on the bottle for a mo, poking his wet pink tongue around the rim like the little wet cat boy he is. Cute though. Does things to you.

Anyway. You register his statement, but you observe that no action follows. He doesn’t look at all like he plans to do a damn thing about it.

You decide to test your theory, then. Your theory that Cecil’s simply a dead fish swept along in your river. That maybe he doesn’t even want to be here at all. Never did. That you are just another something that happened to happen to him.

“Do you wanna go get Mexican?” you offer, with ulterior motives Cecil is not shrewd enough to pick up on.

His eyes tick back from the captivating, shifting lights of the TV. “Sure,” he smiles softly at you, perfectly content, it seems - and yet, you are less than satisfied.

“See!” You smack the palms of your hands together in triumph, and he jumps. Pushes himself up a little straighter in the seat, his palms disappearing into the worn, lumpy upholstery. “See what I mean?”

He blinks at you blankly. Again.

Clearly not, then?

“You just go along with anything I say. We ate two hours ago, Cecil,” you complain, recalling the all you can eat Chinese buffet you and he had gorged on with two coupons you’d cut out of the newspaper. You drop your hands to your lap, dejectedly. You’re getting agitated with him, which surprises you, in truth. And still… there Cecil is. Unflappable. Calm. Constant. There are pros to his cons, for sure. “I just… I never know if you actually like what we’re doing, you know?”

“But. You always suggest things I like. So why would I say no?” He shrugs a little. “Tacos are good. I like tacos. I like…” he hoots into his bottle again as he says the word. “You-ooooooh.”

You hate to admit it, but his answer has you stumped for a moment. Cecil’s statements may generally be simple. Uncomplicated. But they can be oddly profound at times.

Christ. Maybe… Does the man actually have a valid point? Or, perhaps you’re looking too hard for meaning in his words - it’s possible. You feel like you’ve spent a lot of time lately looking hard at Cecil, perhaps to justify your bizarre and inexplicable feelings.

Possibly you’re even projecting. His seeming lack of independent willpower would certainly make that easy enough to do.

Maybe the man has a point though. Maybe he’s not as “easy-going” as you think he is. Maybe you’re just coincidentally so attuned to his desires that he’s never had cause to deny you. Maybe you are aligned with his desires. One and the same. “What if I asked you to do something you didn’t like, then?”

You slurp up the dregs of melted ice through your straw and Cecil blinks again as though it’s taking all of his processing power. Damn, though. You’re surprised that the fanning of those endlessly long cow lashes didn’t cause the curtains behind you to billow in the breeze they threw up. “Like what?”

You shake your head. Touch his arm to placate him. “Never mind, Cecil.” Christ. If he can’t even think of a single Thing He Wouldn’t Like, maybe you can safely stick to your dead fish hypothesis. It’s all the same to him. Just happening to him. He’s not choosing you.

That particular thought, when it arrives, niggles you more than expected, but you quash the growing agitation which rides in alongside it.

Meanwhile, Cecil looks around, quite visibly thinking. “I wouldn’t get up outta this seat,” he states adamantly, his voice croaked from all the blunts he’s worked through today. “I wouldn’t like that.”

You believe him. He’s practically sliding down to become a puddle on the floor. Dissolving into the bar furniture; becoming one with the upholstery.

Your lips curl up into a tender smile, remembering one particularly ridiculous night at Cecil’s. The night involving a 3am bong sesh, culminating in him genuinely believing he had merged with the couch, becoming a half-human half-upholstery monstrosity. He had waved the two huge, puffy couch cushions around as though they were his arms, and he’d grabbed you up in the middle of them like a grilled cheese, sandwiching you and taking you down to the floor where the two of you had rolled and laughed until you’d cried.

When the laughter had subsided to only the odd titter here and there, and you had lain on his disgusting rug almost nose to nose? That’s the first time you’d wanted to kiss him, and it turned out not to have been the last.

Fuck. You are rather fond of this idiot, aren’t you? How the fuck did that happen?

Engaged fully now though - slightly more lucid than your fond memory- Cecil sits up. Still slouched but this time over the table, his forearms bracing him against the surface. As he moves, you get a waft of his layered, stale cigarette smell. It’s… confusing, in its appeal. Should be off-putting, but you find, in fact, that it’s a comfort.

“No? You don’t wanna?”

With a rush of affection you link your arm through Cecil’s, and he slumps his head on to your shoulder as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You weren’t ready for the way his knotted curls brush your cheek, and it inspires a similarly dense and tangled knot to form in your middle.

“No.” It’s the most sure you’ve ever heard him sound. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“A minute ago we were going for Mexican food, Cecil.” There’s a beat. “That kinda involves movement, you realise?

He swivels his head towards you then, gaze all doe-eyed and pathetic, and the proximity of him parroting on your shoulder knocks you for six. “You mad at me or something, Hottie from Walmart?”

You snort. He doesn’t always pull out that nickname for you - how you’d been known to him before you had been known to him - but it always makes you sentimental when he does.

He shifts from you then, tilting his body towards you. Scrutinising you with apprehension in his sweet face.

Fuck him actually, and fuck his pouty beautiful kissable lips most of all.

You sigh, and you deliberately soften your face. He’s easy-going, sure, but he’s sensitive. Trouble slides off of his back, but other things… other things don’t slip off quite so well, and he often gets like this. Like he’s done something wrong, when he hasn’t.

You actively resist the urge to coddle him. To tenderly rake his somewhat grimy but beautiful curls off of his forehead.

You hardly want to examine the fact he brings out your… motherly instincts; but it doesn’t escape your attention that he always seems like he’s craving just a little nurturing. You want to take your thumb and smooth out the creases in his troubled brow.

“No, Cecil. I’m not mad at you. I’d tell you if I was and we’d talk about it.”

He nods.

You’re not mad at him. Really. And so, you take pause to wonder why this happy-go-lucky trait of his is particularly irking you today. “It’s mostly a good thing, I promise.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.”

He looks pleased for a minute and then: “Wait. What’s a good thing?”

You want to kiss his stupid mouth until he can’t think. Which you don’t think would take long at all, actually.

“That…” You think about how to phrase it, and it quickly occurs to you. “That. You’re my ‘yes man’.” He is expressionless for a moment, and you wait for comprehension to slowly crawl over him. “I mean, Cecil,” you take his clammy hand in yours. “That it’s always fun with you. I mean that you never shoot down my ideas. Even when you probably should.”

His face splits with a brief - goofy, but wholly endearing - smile. “You have fun with me?”

His big cow eyes go all soft and wet.

Oh boy. This idiot. If you didn’t have fun with him, even just sitting on his grotty couch, what other reason could you possibly have to hang out with him, huh?

You open your mouth to say as much before thinking better of it, but for once Cecil beats you to it.

“I have fun with you too, Hottie.”

It’s another one of those moments of levity that you’ve experienced surprisingly often with Cecil. One of those moments where everything feels a just little more profound. A little more magical. Sometimes, Cecil gets you in the gut just a little harder than expected.

Great. And now you’re thinking of Cecil all up in your guts.

“I should think so - I’m awesome. But, right now? All I’m saying is…” You tap your noggin. “Tank empty. No ideas. It’s your turn to decide what we do tonight? Okay?”

You search his eyes. His big, beautiful, sincere and secretless eyes. You silently ask the true question you want to ask him. I want to know what you want.

You’re not yet ready to admit the questions buried right beneath that one: do you want me back? Could you? Would you, Cecil?

“Yeah?” Cecil responds, unsure, and you immediately worry that you have, in fact, given him too much responsibility. His expression compresses in a frown of deep, deep concentration. Like he’s really wrestling with this.

You watch with bated breath, dying to see what he comes up with - if anything at all.

And then - aha - he finally has it.

“I could jerk off.”

“Wha-?” You playfully bat him in the arm, aghast. “Cecil!!”

“What?” A surprised, contrite laugh bobs in his throat.

“I mean.” You swallow. “How is that an idea for both of us?”

Oh that’s your problem with his idea?

That it’s not participatory enough?

“You could help.”

Your jaw drops open. “Cecil! I’m not gonna-” you switch to a loud whisper “-jerk you off!”

He blinks again, his eyes glinting with a gentle - ever so gentle - flicker of amusement. “You’re not a yes man,” he complains softly, his curly lips sneaking up into a curly smile. “Always shooting down my ideas.”

He bats his lashes at you and oh boy - even Cecil must be starting to figure out that you’re a sucker for those big, pretty brown eyes. Your one true weakness.

“That’s really what you want?” you ask, trying to keep things light. To keep your tone jokey and jovial, like always, despite the rising tremor in your voice. “It would involve getting up, you realise?”

He winks at you - a gesture which seems entirely unlike him and yet somehow works - and smirks down at his crotch. “Already am.”

“If you’re really so uncontrollably horny, why don’t you get someone else around here to help you, huh?” Your heart skips a beat. “Why me?”

He’s looking at you like he wants you but… he’s an opportunistic guy. Goes with the flow. That’s how things come to him; he’ll take his cigarettes and beers and fucks wherever and whenever he can get them.

He unceremoniously pulls out a rolled blunt and lights it up, the filter end pressed between his plush pink lips.

“No.” It bobs as he talks and he takes little, peppered drags to get the burn going.

“No?”

You blink at him dumbly now.

“No. I only want you.”

Correction. That’s the most sure of anything you’ve ever heard him.

He slips forward, exhaling his smoke into your mouth as his lips caress yours. “Come on,” he encourages. “Get going. Before my penis turns into a couch cushion.”

He kisses your laugh, and as his tongue slides hungrily against yours suddenly it isn’t quite so funny. Suddenly, you feel like maybe Cecil has the best ideas.

“Right here?” You reach down, and you smooth your palm over the clothed bulge at his crotch. “In the booth?”

“I’m already barred. Heh. What are they gonna do?”

You smile at him, licking your lips as Cecil bucks up into your hand, his head lolling back against the lip of his seat, and his pretty eyes fluttering closed.

He groans, as your fingers snake to tease open the button at his fly.

“Oops,” Cecil whispers contritely, almost immediately, his cheeks and his ears darkening with a deep crimson flush as he looks over to you. “I just… I…”

Oh God. He just came in his pants, didn’t he? Oh Lord that makes you inexplicably hot.

His big, pretty eyes are wet with apology. “Are you mad?”

“No, Cecil.” Poor baby. “I just think I should take you home and get you cleaned up, hmm?” You next words all run into one, as you struggle to get your new genius plan out of your mouth. “Mayberimyoualittlewhatdoyousay?”

Did you actually just suggest that you take him home to rim him? Good Lord.

He blinks rapidly, the colour in his cheeks flowering more, like a beautiful rose unfurling. “Y-Yes. I say yes.”

It’s a hare-brained plan, for sure, but you decide that for once,

you might as well just…

go with the flow.

It certainly works for Cecil.

[codecicle]

honestly im just in a complaining mood but im gonna make this it's own stand-alone post. the current state of youtube is really really disheartening. it's insane to me that we've entered an era where it's actually incredibly normal for video-making to be people's Real Actual Jobs, yet the youtube algorithm is still not very understood and changes on a whim with little to no warning. it's so goddamn stupid for people to have to edit certain ways, or title their videos in certain ways, or just create ugly-ass thumbnails with red circles and shitty clickbait graphics, JUST to get the algorithm to pay enough attention and push their shit. it's been like this for years, but you'd think in a post-2020 shutdown world they'd find ways to take it seriously, ESPECIALLY considering how heavy of a boost their platform got during that era. it's sad to see this taken as "just one of those #influencer things" and not something that could be changed for the better, and currently isnt being changed by a major multi-billion dollar corperation. because at the end of the day, youtube CAN change their algorithm. they have in the past, and the final "major change" they made was the push to make it more advertiser/brand friendly. remember when people couldn't swear before the first minute of the video? remember how that was actually a community-discovered function through youtube mature-content-labeling thousands of people's videos and limiting their income they relied on to live? they were told first 10-20 seconds, and that number varied SO heavily they ended up running with a full minute into the video. not to mention how you can't get most strikes appealed through regular functions, but instead have to BEG youtube publically on twitter and use your clout to shame them. people have to bend over backwards and pray to the algorithm gods if they want to be happy making what they love, and if they don't? their videos won't be seen. they CAN make content without caring about the algorithm, but it's discouraged every step of the way. and even people who appease the algorithm and try their very best to lick the corporate boot will REGULARLY have their income COMPLETELY RANDOMLY struck, and their livelihoods put on the line, all because of youtubes shitty copyright system and even worse demonetization system. all im saying is it's crazy my phone will autocorrect it to their brand name of YouTube, and they have such a focus on keeping advertisers and ad-revenue, but most youtubers have to use shitty clickbait circles and arrows while taking sponsorship deals every video to stay afloat "living the dream."

[lazarusrisingx]

Alright so this’ll be my first official one shot for this account yippee!! Im starting off with something fluffy cause ya boi hasn’t written fan fics in quite a while (yes i was a fan fic writer before but i wanted to start over cause i abandoned that account tee hee)

summary: A fluffy one shot where sylus teaches you to ride his motorcycle and you..kinda fail at it

also for one shots i think im gonna use MC instead of Y/n as the name? if yall want me to change it for the next one just lmk.

this story also diverges from the actual lore of LADS, its mentioned theyve already had some past ‘romantic’ moments tee hee.

triggers: mentions of scrapes and blood, no serious injuries, motorcycle incident without helmet, uhhhh there isnt really anything triggering so yeah! just pure fluff and scared sylus

might be a bit ooc sylus but im tryna stay true him, also excuse my bad spelling im gonna autocorrect everything but im writing on my phone so don’t judge.

okay lets get it peoples!!

————————————————————

It was a relatively nice day in the N109 zone. Crime seemed to hold itself for the crisp cool weather that decided to roll in over night. The sky was less murky grey than usual and a few patches of blue peeked through fluffy white clouds. The sun was near setting as MC and a certain silver haired man sat in his office.

“..you want to what?” Sylus asked, not looking away from a manila folder in his hands.

“I want you to show me to ride your motorcycle.” MC repeated.

The tick of the grandfather clock was the only sound that could be heard for a few moments. MC felt for a moment she might want to take back her recquest, but Sylus silently set down the folder he held and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

He rubbed his eyes, and folded his arms, studying the girl without expression.

“If you do-“

“Your telling me the great wanderer huntress doesnt know how to ride a simple motorcycle?” Sylus interrupted. the edge of his lip quirked up in a slight smirk.

MC narrowed her eyes at him.

“Its not in the training for us to be taught to ride or drive.”

Sylus tilted his head, before speaking again.

“You mean you dont even know how to drive?” It sounded as if he was holding back a laugh.

“Will you teach me to ride or not! I can hire an instructor if you wont.” MC said, purposefully dodging the question of her driving skills.

She had thought about asking Sylus before, but lately the two of them hadnt had a single afternoon to do anything besides… questionably legal missions. It was so nice out that she thought itd be a shame to spend it in this dark and dreary office.

Sylus stood up without a word, dragging his coat off his chair and picking up the manila folder. He punched a code into one of his many safes and placed it inside for safe keeping, and went for the door.

“Are you coming? Or should i roll out a red carpet for you sweetie?”

MC stood up quickly, a smile sliding across her face as she followed him out of the room.

The two walked down the hall of his house quietly. She felt excited, and slightly nervous. Sylus didnt seem like the most compassionate teacher she couldve found. however spending money on an instructor was something she never intended to do in the first place.

Sylus glanced down at her as the two stopped by his room.

“you cant wear shorts, and I cant wear dress pants nor this shirt. Go get changed.” Sylus said as he opened the door.

MC gave him a questioning look as he opened the door for her, leaning against the wall waiting for her to enter.

“I dont have clothes here.” MC stated.

Sylus shook his head, his hand twitched and an invisible force pushed MC forward.

“I had the twins pick something up for you in case you needed to stay here for a while, itll be the third drawer from the bottom sweetie.”

the surprise on MC’s face mustve been obvious, because a quiet chuckle left Sylus.

“Dont look so surprised kitten, we work together enough that if you end up injured under my watch I’m not going to send you home to recover alone.”

“How do you even know my size in pants?” MC asked as she lifted out a pair of jeans. surprisingly they looked as if they would fit quite nicely.

Sylus leaned over her, his chest brushing over MC’s back. He was much warmer than she thought he might be, and the contact sent a slight spark of electric through her. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and produced a pair of black pants and a nice fitted black shirt for himself. MC glanced up to find Sylus peering down at her with a curious expression. Was that a smile she saw? If only for a split second. Sylus lingered against her for a few moments, pretending to look for soemthing else before taking a step back.

“I told them to look in the kids section.” He said.

MC turned to scold him, and found him unbuttoning his dress shirt, his silver hair dangled in front of his eyes as he looked down, the shirt parting just enough to expose a strong muscular chest, before MC promptly turned around her face turning bright red.

“Ill find a bathroom.” She said quietly.

“Straight ahead sweetie.”

She made a bee-line towards it, not looking back to see how Sylus’s eyes followed her, or the smirk on his face as he pulled his shirt off.

MC shut the door behind her, heart pounding in her ears. It was an odd reaction since she had seen him shirtless before. although it was different because this was unexpected.

She wiped the image from her mind and quickly got changed. Sadly, the pants fit her perfectly. MC was truly curious as to how Sylus or the twins figured out her size but it wasnt something she was ready to look into.

MC walked out from the bathroom, Sylus was dressed in all black his shirt was tight enough to show the outline of his abs, and make his arms look incredibly huge.

Sylus was finishing a message to someone on his phone. He glanced up at MC once before he finished the message.

“letting the twins know we will be out for a bit. I expect youd like to go to dinner after we are finished?” Sylus asked.

“mmm sure, I saw a hot po-“

“im picking where we eat. I dont feel like going to linkon tonight.” Sylus interrupted

He stood up and opened the door for the two, motioning for MC to walk out before him. She obliged, and the two walked in silence to his garage. Sitting in a parking spot was his usual black and red bike. The paint shiny from being newly washed, not a speck of rust nor dust decorated the expensive equipment.

“do you atleast know the basics of controls?” Sylus asked.

“theres the clutch, throttle and break. i know that much.” MC responded.

Sylus nodded, he pulled the kickstand up on the bike and began to slowly walk it towards the exit.

“Mine has some.. enhancements, so youll have to go easy on the gas. turning is fairly self explanatory. but as i said before take it very gentle. I dont want a scratch on this bike.”

MC nodded and followed behind him. She was getting nervous now, but she knew Sylus had a decent driveway that she would be able to drive around, that way she could avoid any extra cars or pedestrians. the few times she had driven a car, she had done fairly well, although went a little slower than the speed limit… by ten miles.

If anything, her only worry was annoying sylus with how careful she was!

The two walked out of the small garage and into the cool outside. wind rustled the small trees and birds chirped quietly around them.

“Get on here.”

Sylus held out his hand as he kept the bike steady. MC carefully got into the drivers seat and set her feet on the rests.

“put a foot on the ground so the bike can tilt when i let go.” Sylus said

“like this?”

MC put one foot on the ground, and Sylus let its weight rest on her. It was heavier than expected but nothing she couldnt handle. He took a step back and folded his arms.

“Turn the keys in the ignition, let it roll forward a bit so you know how itll feel.”

MC fumbled with the key for a moment and the engine roared to life. She smiled proudly, and looked to Sylus who was to focused on watching her slowly roll forward.

“Turn the gas a bit, and ride to the edge there, you dont need-“

MC thought she had pressed the gas lightly. she really did. Instead, the bike shot forward across the driveway, pointed not towards the grass, but the exit to the driveway. A scream escaped her as she pulled her foot onto the rests.

The wind ripples through her hair as she sped towards the entrance to the street, the handles wobbled in her hands, and within a second she was flung from the bike.

Metal screeched awfully on concrete as the bike was sent skidding towards her. Her body tumbled over the driveway, the rip of jeans and the feel of gravel driving into her arms didnt feel like much as she watched the bikes path heading straight for her.

MC threw up her hands, curling up expecting to be hit by the skidding motorcycle, but the impact never came.

The sound of heavy footsteps and muffled yelling made her open her eyes. Her vision was blurred, and her ears rang slightly. In front of her was a barrier of black and red smoke, instead of hitting her, the bike had been stopped not a second to soon.

“MC! For fucks sake!” Sylus yelled.

MC began to shake a bit, not from the pain in her arms and legs, nor the throbbing headache from hitting her head. She scrambled to her hands and knees. Sylus was running towards her, an unfamiliar expression on his face. His crimson eyes glowed brightly from using his evol.

“Sylus i-i didnt think itd be so sensitive!”

the barrier dissipated and MCs heart lept into her throat. the bikes previously shiny paint was nearly fully scraped clean, the seat had a few tears in it, the handles previously rubber grip was now worn down to the metal on one side. there was a bend in the rim of one of the wheels.

Tears filled MCs eyes as a mix of anxiety and fear pierced her heart. His bike was ruined! the one thing he had told her not to do was crash this, and less than a minute on it she had!

MC’s hands brushed over the ruined paint job, she barely noticed the blood dripping from her arm or down her hands, nor the pain of dirt being gritted into her badly scraped knees.

“What are you doing, what are you doing?” Sylus asked.

he had dropped to his knees beside her, grabbing a firm hold of both arms, that same unrecognizable expression written all over his face. his grip was firm, but MC didnt look away from the bike.

“Your bike! Sylus is swear i didnt mean to do that! I was gentle l-like you said I didnt think-“

“the bike? the fuck are you on about sweetie look at you!”

His voice was harsh and demanding. his eyes were still glowing crimson as MC finally looked at him. She was trembling badly. finally she noticed the blood now coating his hand and her arm. her lip was also split down the middle, and a cut on her cheek.

“I-ill pay for the bike Sy-“

“the bike? you think i give a fuck about the bike i have ten more just like it.”

He dragged the two of them to their feet.

“but you said-“

“your hurt.” Sylus said plainly.

His eyes scanned her wounds as if he was looking for something.

“Its nothing-“

“we are going back in.” Sylus stated.

in one swift motion he lifted MC off her feet, carrying her like a princess. MC was speechless as he stepped over the bike, walking quickly to get the two of them back into the house.

“You dont care about the bike?” MC asked.

Sylus glanced down at her.

“Why the fuck would i care about a damn object right now.”

MC paused for a moment, she stared up at his face, now noticing a thin layer of sweat over his forehead, his eyes darting back and forth and he looked… pale. was he scared? panicked?

the last thing MC expected from him was concern over a few scrapes and bruises. Well, maybe they werent scrapes. with each step her adrenaline wore off, and throbbing pain came over her entire body.

Sylus brought the two of them to his room, slamming the door open. The twins stood there together, talking back and forth.

“Boss- wait is she-“

“get out.” Sylus said gruffly.

“Boss are you alright? you look-“

“I told you both to get!” Sylus yelled.

The twins looked at the both of them for a moment, before scurrying out of the room.

“They could patch me up sylus you dont have to do this.” MC said quietly. he ignored her as he gingerly set her on the plush comforter.

“sylus the blood, i cant ruin more of your things.”

“why do you think i care about ‘things’ MC. sit down and wait for me. if you can get into your shorts put those on or im taking your jeans off myself.” Sylus said.

MC watched him enter the bathroom and rummage around. She didnt know what to think. of course her first thought was that he would be more concerned for his bike, he had seen her get hurt by wanderers before and hadnt seemed so… upset by it.

She found her shorts on the floor and slowly peeled the ripped jeans off herself and tugged on her shorts. her leg was definatley sore and bruises already began to blossom over her thigh. the concrete had rubbed away quite a bit of skin, blood dripped down her leg and onto the floor now.

without a word sylus came back in, his eyes had finally stopped glowing, and in his arms he held rolls of bandages antiseptics, tape, and cobain.

“i can do this myself Sylus.” MC said

“no.” Was all Sylus had to offer.

a wave of black and red smoke pushed MC back onto his bed. it wasnt as rough as usual, almost like a cushion pressing her into place.

Sylus knelt down in front of her. eyes narrowing as they scanned over her leg.

“shouldve been more careful.” Sylus mumbled.

“i know im sorry.” MC replied

“no, not you. I shouldve been more careful. that bike has enhancements on it, its to much for a beginner i didnt think about it.” He said.

MC grew quiet for a moment.

“well i wont die.” MC said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sylus didnt seem impressed. he hesitated his hands hovering over her leg before he grabbed a damp cloth and began wiping blood from her leg. His hands were calloused from boxing and fighting, but he was much gentler than MC expected.

“you wont die, but you still got hurt.” Sylus said after a moment.

he folded the cloth over itself and cleaned the edges of her wound. He gently brushed one of her scrapes, causing MC to grimace.

“sorry.” he mumbled quietly.

his free hand left the bed where it was planted, and gingerly took hold of hers.

“squeeze when it hurts, you wont harm me sweetie.” He said. His crimson eyes flicked to hers making a bolt of electric shoot through MC’s heart. she hesitated, before giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

sylus’ shoulders relaxed a bit after this. he picked up a new cloth, and doused it in antiseptic.

“it has lidocaine in it, but it might sting a bit.” Sylus said

Thankfully, he didnt try to clean the wound in sections. he paused for a moment and pressed the cloth firmly to her scrapes. MC grunted and squeezed his hand. When she looked back at him he was gently rubbing his thumb against the uninjured portion of her leg, looking at her with that oddly concerned expression.

“better?” he asked.

MC nodded her head letting out a breath. He lifted the cloth, now that the area was numb he was able to thoroughly clean the bits of dirt out. the process was repeated over the second patch of scrapes on her calf. Sylus slowly wrapped her leg in cobain and gauze, before sitting on the bed beside MC.

“are you alright sylus?” MC asked.

He had kept his usual snarky comments to himself the past few minutes and it was slightly worrying. Sylus turned his head to her and looked her up and down.

“you shouldve worn a helmet.” He said quietly

“well i wasnt intending to drive more than five feet.” MC replied.

a small smirk came across Sylus’ face.

“five feet? I thought youd have more confidence in yourself sweetie.” Sylus said.

MC laughed quietly and shook her head.

“my teacher didnt seem to have much confidence ‘ride to the grass’ i beileive you said.” MC replied.

Sylus quirked up an eyebrow.

“it seems i was right doesnt it?”

He gestured to her still injured arm, and held up a clean cloth.

“still got another spot to take care of sweetie.” He said.

MC groaned quietly, but turned so he would have a better angle for it. She looked away and waited for him to begin cleaning the wound. instead he leaned towards her, his hand slipping around to the back of her head and pulling her forward. MC nearly protested, but Sylus placed his hand on her back after resting her head to his chest.

She could hear his heart, beating extremely fast for someone so fit.

“just… a moment.” Sylus said quietly.

MC practically held her breath for a moment, before taking in air. his cologne smelled nice, a mix of fresh spices and expensive cigars. the muscles under her head her soft but firm. his arm resting around her body in a hug. Sylus was hugging her.

tentatively, MC put her good arm around him. it felt right, her anxiety and worry began to slowly melt away the longer they stayed like this. her eyes grew heavy, and she began to relax more and more against him. he was so solid, his chest rose and fell under her, slowing down after a moment or so.

“dont worry about the bike sweetie. really. im more concerned about the fact you were… injured.”

MC smiled slightly.

“The great leader of onychinus is concerned for me?” MC asked

a chuckle vibrated through Sylus’ chest. he almost sounded releived.

“more than youd know MC.” Sylus said quietly.

MC’s heart fluttered slightly. she closed her eyes as Sylus began to move again, his free hand found the back of her head, beginning to rub her hair gently as he pressed the cloth to the side of her arm. It wasnt long before the two had to seperate to allow sylus to wrap her arm.

“Why dont we order food tonight. I dont really feel like going out again.” MC said.

Sylus cleaned up the bloody cloths and nodded his head. he began to make his way towards the bedroom door.

“you pick the spot, ill pay.” Sylus said.

“absolutely not, i just trashed your bike-“

Sylus stood up and in a few strides crossed the room to stand in front of her, he leaned down and tilted her chin up to make MC look at him.

“how many times do i have to say that i dont care about the bike, just that you dont have a damn head injury?” He asked.

MC stared up at him for a moment, Sylus brought her face a little closer, speaking quietly now.

“I got you hurt today MC. The least i can do is pay for a damn meal.” He said.

MC couldnt help but look between his eyes and lips. was she insane to think about kissing him now? they were so close, and it wouldn’t be the first time one of them had made an attempt like that. Sylus scanned her face. did he just lean in more?

There was a knock at the door.

“Boss? we were just wondering if you needed us to get the bike out of the driveway.” One of the twins said.

Sylus looked dissapointed, and slightly annoyed. he released MC and turned away from her, going to the door and opening it.

“Ill come out and help you, one if you dispose of these. MC, you might want to change your shirt. Ill be in the living room when your done, sweetie.” Sylus said.

MC was left alone in his room. bright red blush creeped over her face as she slumped back on his bed. She was cursing herself slightly. Part of her was angry she even thought of kissing him, the other half was angry she didnt.

She flopped over onto her stomach groaning loudly before she sat up again.

Another uneventful night of eating in.

———————————————————

maybe ill make a smutty part 2 to this one? maybe not straight smut but some good steamy kisses and things like that idk.

uhhhhh yeah! i havent written in a little while so i dont know how good this is or isnt!

if yall have any ideas for other oneshots then just lmk. im currently working on the storyline for a yandere!sylus x reader fic so i might drop some teasers for that when i can.

in the meantime ill alternate between fluff and smut, i can do some sad stories to but they gotta have good endings cause i cant stand my mans to be sad like that.

also gonna work on some zayne material because i love my mans zayne just as much as sylus if not a bit more. i feel like he doesnt get enough love fr.

okay byyyyyee hopefully this was good.

please credit me if you share this story

[juniperss]

“First Steps First” Jessamine ‘Lark’ Waterson (OC) x Neil ‘Chick’ Harding

A/N: so I’ve really been wanting to write something for Jessamine and Chick for a while but was super anxious and self conscious about it for a couple of reasons. The first being that I don’t write much fanfiction anymore and the second is because I’m not wholly convinced I nail the atmosphere of period shows/movies. But this idea just wouldn’t leave my head so I’m biting the bullet and swallowing my doubts!

This fic takes place in episode 4 during Dye’s celebration party (I can’t get over Harding saying “single fillies”, okay?) and inspired by the song “First Steps First” from the musical Bandstand. The song they dance to is “It’s Been a Long Time” and I don’t care that this version came out in 1945, it’s my favorite LOL

also hey autocorrect pls stop changing Chick to Chuck, thanks

Word count: 1,730 words (😧)

Warnings: none, other than the fact I don’t know how the military works so please ignore inaccuracies🤡😂 this is about the FICTIONAL version of Col. Harding

I saw that you said it was okay to tag you in OC stuff @rosies-riveters, so I hope this is alright and that you enjoy!

“Pardon my brashness, dear

Seeing you standing here

Dancing's more customary

For a soirée."

As much as Jessamine Waterson took pride in her work as a nurse on the Thorpe Abbots base there was no denying the fact that it was grueling, emotionally draining and often went without the accolades that came with other roles in the war. And while most days she was just fine with that, today had been particularly tiresome and Jessamine was glad for the change of pace the evening’s festivities allowed. The anxious energy that had gripped every person on the airbase had been exchanged for easy laughter, jokes, and celebration. After all, it wasn’t every day a pilot and crew successfully flew 25 missions. 

As she sat with Beth and Ginny, an American nurse and mechanic respectively, who had become two of her fastest friends, listening idly to them chat about the dances they’d returned from moments ago, it took much of Jessamine’s will to avoid allowing her gaze to linger for too long on the man who had just entered the room. She had spent months chiding herself for the way her heart started racing at the mere thought of Colonel Harding being so near and despite the effort she put into acting completely normal on the instances their paths crossed, she feared her feelings were all too transparent. 

 It was inconvenient to have a crush during war and even more inconvenient that it was on a man who was not only a good handful of years older than she was, but compounded by the fact that he was an American soldier. An American soldier who was dashingly handsome and confident, who had just looked in her direction and caught her staring. Jessamine busied herself with the drink in front of her trying to ignore the heat burning in her ears.

 “Oh well that was just adorable.” 

Beth’s voice with it’s charming southern accent was usually a source of soothing reassurance and good advice, was now riddled with mischief and good natured humor now that the two women’s attention was focused on their friend. “You know there’s no shame in a little flirting, a little conversation. Why don’t you go ask him to dance?”

Ginny nodded in agreement, leaning across the table, “It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before,” before turning conspiratorially to Beth, “remember how she gave him pain medication for his headache that one time.” 

Jessamine’s hands came up to cover her face, the full weight of her body resting on her elbows as she suppressed a groan and a laugh. Of course the two of them remembered the  first time she had met the Colonel; a simple exchange of names and him asking for something for a headache. Jessamine, partly sleep deprived and partly fighting off the butterflies in her stomach fumbling with the bottle before spilling a handful of pills across the floor of the nurses station.

It certainly wasn’t necessarily the most romantic or charming first meeting on her part, but Col. Harding had only smiled before kneeling and helping her gather the runaways. There had been a quip about how she could’ve just said no that resulted in flustered laughter from her and another grin from him. And her friends hadn’t let her live it down since she confided about it to them the following day over breakfast. 

“I’m surprised he said anything to me after that.” Jessamine admitted and revealed her face to her friends. Though there had been more interactions with the Colonel after that, they remained confined to mostly professional settings save for a few pleasantries while off duty. “And to answer your question, Beth, I’m certainly not going to bother him and ask for a dance!” 

Ginny rolled her brown eyes and tossed her head back in a sign of exasperation, looking up to the ceiling pantomiming someone experiencing a great tragedy which in turn caused another round of laughter at the table. “Well, if he asked you to dance, would you say yes?” Beth finally asked.  This time all the hints of teasing had left her friend’s tone and there was nothing but curiosity and sincerity. 

Jessamine nodded slowly, allowing the fantasy to tease at the corner of her mind just for a moment but unable to answer because just as she parted her lips to reply another voice cut in. 

“Excuse me, ladies.” Colonel Harding’s voice sent a rush of heat through Jessamine’s body and she felt her posture straighten. She pried her eyes off of Beth to glance up, up, up at the tall soldier now standing beside their table and found that, despite him addressing them all, he was looking determinedly at her alone. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could steal Miss Waterson for a dance.”

“You’re not interrupting at all, sir.” Ginny chimed in, eyes flitting from the Colonel to Jessamine, “In fact, we were just talking about how much Jessamine was wanting to dance.”

Oh, that Ginny was going to get stern talking to later, Jessamine promised herself, but at that moment she was already standing. Hardings’ hand reached out and enveloped hers as he guided her to the dance floor. 

"Isn't the band sublime?

And as it happens I'm

Just in the mood to do

A two-step, Do step

Out on the floor with me.”

The two of them found a place surrounded by three or four other couples just as the band changed from the upbeat, two step to a slower tune that made Jessamine’s heart pitter faster. If Harding felt any nervousness at the now much more intimate situation the change of song put the two of them in, he didn’t show it. Instead he wrapped an arm around her waist with the ease and confidence of a man who knew what he was doing. Her breath hitching just slightly before she felt him placing the flat of his hand lightly, respectfully against her back. 

Every nerve was firing at once, each hair on her arms standing on end, she was sure of it as her mind raced. She was trying to remember just how one slow danced fighting through the nervousness, when she felt the firmness of her foot under her own. 

“I’m so sorry, colonel.” The apology came out high pitched and squeaky and with the attempt to pull away from the man in front of her. But Harding kept his gentle grip and shook his head.

 “It’s not the first time someone’s stomped on my foot. At least this time it wasn’t on purpose. And Neil is fine, or Chick if you think Neil is too familiar.” 

There he goes again, Jessamine thought, being so effortlessly charming and saving me from my own awkwardness. Sometime in the desperate squeak of an apology she had been repositioned to properly be dancing. One soft hand held in his much larger one, the other placed on his shoulder, and her face precariously close to his as she found herself peering up at him. The rhythm was easy to find with Neil leading and the familiar trumpet crooning at the stage and Jessamine had to fight to keep her eyes from closing. 

“Might you be charmingly coerced

No need to be so shy

Take reassurance, I

Know how to guide you through

The worst steps, first steps first

 “It’s not too late to admit you picked the wrong dancing partner.” Jessamine finally found her voice and the confidence to add just a bit of a teasing tone to it, a smile itching at the corner of her lips. Her cheek had come to rest just slightly against his shoulder as they swayed to the music and as a result her voice was slightly muffled by the material of his dress shirt.

 “You’re selling yourself short. It’s been at least a minute since we’ve had another incident. You’re a natural.” Each time he spoke she could feel the rumbling of his chest against hers and her head felt dizzy with the warmth and solidity of him. 

“And I’m certainly not going to say that after I finally got up the guts to come ask you for a dance in the first place.” Neil’s confession took Jessamine by surprise and she pulled back to look him in the eyes searching for any signs of jest but only finding an intensity that sent her stomach exploding into a storm of butterflies. 

“You...you had to work up the courage to ask me?” The image of Colonel Neil Harding having to work up the nerve to ask anything of Jessamine was too comical to be taken seriously but there was no denying the truth behind his statement. “You’re a beautiful woman, Jessamine. And smart and successful. Hell, you’d have every reason to reject a dance from an old colonel like me.” 

This was almost too much for Jessamine to take and she struggled to wrap her mind around his confession. All she could do was blink dazedly up at him as her cheeks flushed bright red. A smile broke out across Neil’s face and he laughed, arm tightening around her waist for a moment. “I hope that wasn’t too out of line and that I haven’t just read this entire interaction incorrectly. But your friends made it pretty clear to me earlier that you felt the same about me.” 

Oh…oh…oh it was all coming together now.

Jessamine couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from her chest and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder. His own rumbling laugh was mixing with hers and soon Jessamine had relaxed with the words of his confession replaying in her mind. The song faded and another slow ballad picked began, nothing but their breathing and the shuffling of shoes on the floor mixing with the music to fill the space between them.  “So,” Neil murmured, dragging Jessamine’s attention to his face once again, “you do feel the same?” 

This time, Jessamine didn’t shy away from the intense and earnest way he was looking at her. Instead she lifted herself up on the tip of her toes just enough to bring her lips to his cheek. 

 She would have words with Ginny and Beth about this. But later…after another dance. 

Yes, after another dance with Neil.

[wheelie-sick]

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「 ✦ Corvid — he / him — no they ✦ 」

↬ physical, sensory, psychiatric, and developmental disabilities ↫

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↬ this list exists to keep the flies away, you don't have to perfectly agree with everything here. I will block for some opinions but this is not a DNI list. I'm open to discussion about my views as long as you're here to discuss and not preach

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03. I'm happy to answer questions, I promise I don't bite. I don't mind educating people as long as they're asking questions in good faith. (this includes advice for writing characters with any of my disabilities) -- I try to answer everything, if I don't answer your ask for whatever reason it probably just got lost

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03. I am intersex, cistrans, and queer. I specifically identify as a nonbinary trans man and intergender.

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T date: September 26, 2022

Vision loss date: July 14, 2024

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