#Somebody take brainrot from me

[wuekka]

How can I be so obsessed and in love with jayvik, but not have a single fanfic idea for them, usually I do but now just nothing. They get placed in characters too hard to write pile. Like even the most basic idea feels annoying if I were to try...I don't even publish my writing anywhere so this is double stupid to write. Fuck it, little (very basic) scenarios I haven't yet seen in fanfic although I would like.. (it might be just me not having patience to look.)

Viktor mumbling being jealous of Mel. (Being maybe like a viewer with thinking she's evil at first but then learning she isn't. No character bashing.)

Post-canon Viktor and Jayce talking how Jayce couldn't let him die after the bombing. Much tears, Viktor most likely thinks Jayce should have let him die and Jayce talking him out of the mindset.

Jayce talks Viktor into coming some Kiramman party but everything goes wrong.

Pining! Jayce! And only one who realises that is Mel, maybe Cait.

In general sibling dynamic with Jayce and Caitlyn is something this fandom needs. (Like Vi and Jayce being himbo idiots together is fun fanon, but wouldn't canon be more Cait and Jayce losing their brain cells when they're together?)

...yes this started with me complaining I don't have any ideas but then writing some, but they're not good enough. :l

[verkomy]

me: picking up every acorn I see

my dad: take one home. plant it and watch it grow.

me: screeching noises

[skyeoak]

“I itch all the time. Deep beneath my skin, where the bone sits, enshrined in flesh, I feel it. Something, not moving but that wants to move. Wants to be free. It itches, and I don’t think I want it. I don’t know what to do.

You can’t help me. I don’t think so, at least. But whatever it is that calls to me, that wants me for its own, it hates you. It hates what you are and what you do. And if it hates you, then maybe you can help me. If I wanted to be helped. I don’t know if I do. You must understand, it sings so sweetly, and I need it, but I am afraid. It isn’t right and I need help. I need it to be seen. To be seen in the cold light of knowledge is anathema to the things that crawl and slither and swarm in the corners and the cracks. In the pitted holes of the hive.

You can’t see it, of course. It isn’t real. Not like you or I are real. It’s more of an everywhere. A feeling. Are you familiar with trypophobia? That disgusted fear at holes, irregular, honeycombed holes. Makes you feel that itch in the back of your mind, like the holes are there too, in your own brain, rotten and hollow and swarming. Is that real?

I’m sorry, I know I’m meant to be telling you what happened. What brought me to this place. This place of books and learning, of sight and beholding. I’m sorry. I should. I will.

I… I haven’t slept in some time. I can’t sleep. My dreams are crawling and many-legged. Not just slithering and burrowing,. though it is the burrowing that draws me. They always sing that song of flesh. I hope you will forgive me for such a rambling story. I hope you will forgive me for a great many things, as it may be I do worse. I have that feeling, that instinct that squirms through your belly. There will be great violence done here. And I bleed into that violence.

Do you know, I wonder? As I watch you sitting there through the glass. Eating a sandwich. Do you know where you are? You called me “dear”. “Have a seat, dear.” “You can write it down, dear.” “Take as much time as you need, dear.” Can you truly know the danger you are in?

There is a wasps’ nest in my attic. A fat, sprawling thing that crouches in the shadowed corner. It thrums with life and malice. I could sit there for hours, watching the swirls of pulp and paper on its surface. I have done. It is not the patterns that enthral me, I’m not one of those fools chasing fractals; no, it’s what sings behind them. Sings that I am beautiful. Sings that I am a home. That I can be fully consumed by what loves me.

I don’t know how long the nest has been there. It’s not even my house, I just live there. Some sweaty old man thinks he owns it, taking money for my presence as though it will save him. I used to worry about it, you know. I remember, before the dreams, I would spend so long worrying about that money. About how I could afford to live there. Now I know that whatever the old man thinks, as he passes about the house with brow crinkled and mouth puckered in disapproval, it is not his. It has a thousand truer owners who shift and live and sing within the very walls of the building. He does not even know about the wasps’ nest. I wonder how long he has not known. How many years it has been there.

Have you ever heard of the filarial worm? Mosquitoes gift it with their kiss and it grows and grows. It stops water moving round the human body right, makes limbs and bellies swell and sag with fluid. Now, when I look at that fat, sweaty sack, I think about it, and the voice sings of showing him what a real parasite can do.

How many months has it been like this? Was there a time before? There must have been. I remember a life that was not itching, not fear, not nectar-sweet song. I had a job. I sold crystals. They were clean, and sharp and bright and they did not sing to me, though I sometimes said they did. We would sell the stones to smiling young couples with colour in their hair. I remember, before I found the nest, someone new came. His name was Oliver, and he would look at me so strangely. Not with lust or affection or contempt, but with sadness. Such a deep sadness. And once with fear. It didn’t matter, because no-one in the shop wanted to hear about the ants below it. I tried to tell them, to explain, but they did not care. The pretty young things complained and I left.

That was when I still called myself a witch. Wicca and paganism, I would spend my weekends at rituals by the Thames. I wanted something beyond myself, but could not stomach the priest or the imam or pujari of the churches. I knew better. I knew that it was not so simple as to call out to well-trodden gods. I never felt from my rituals anything except exhaustion and pride. I thought that those were my spiritual raptures.

I wish, deep inside, below the itch, that they were still my raptures. I have touched something now, though, that all my talk of ley lines and mother goddesses could never have prepared me for. It is not a god. Or if it is then it is a dead god, decayed and clammy corpse-flesh brimming with writhing graveworms.

When did I first hear it? It wasn’t the nest, I’m sure of that. I never went in the attic. It was locked and I didn’t have a key. I spent a day sawing through the padlock with an old hacksaw. My hands were blistered by the end. Why would I have done that if I didn’t know what I would find? The face of the one who sang to me dwelling within the hidden darkness above me. I had seen no wasps. I know I hadn’t. There are no wasps in the nest. So how else would I have known that I needed to be there, to be in the dark with it, if it had not already been singing to me?

No, that’s not right. The nest does not sing to me. It is simply the face. Not the whole face, for the whole of the hive is infinite. An unending plane of wriggling forms swarming in and out of the distended pores and honeycombed flesh. The nest is nothing but paper.

Was it the spiders? There were webs in the corners, around the entryway into the attic. I would watch them scurry and disappear in between the wooden boards. ‘Where are you going, little spiders?’ I would think. ‘What are you seeing in the dark? Is it food? Prey? Predators?’ I wondered if it was the spiders that made the gentle buzzing song. It was not. Webs have a song as well, of course, but it is not the song of the hive.

I used to pick at my skin. It was a compulsion. I would spend hours in the bathroom, staring as close as I could get to my face to the mirrors, searching for darkened pores to squeeze and watch the congealed oil worm its way out of my skin. Often I would end with swollen red marks where it had become inflamed with irritation or infection. Did I hear the song then?

Was it when I was a child, such a clear memory of a classmate telling me a blackhead was a hole in my face, and if I didn’t keep it clean it would grow and rot. Did I hear it then, as that image lodged in my mind forever? Or was it last year, passing by a strip of green they call a park near my house, after the rain, and watching a hundred worms crawl and squirm to the surface.

Perhaps I’ve always heard it. Perhaps the itch has always been the real me, and it was the happy, smiling Jane who called herself a witch and drank wine in the park when it was sunny. Maybe it was her who was the maddened illusion that hides the sick squirming reality of what I am. Of what we all are, when you strip away the pretence that there is more to a person than a warm, wet habitat for the billion crawling things that need a home. That love us in their way.

I need to think. To clear my head. To try and remember, but remember what? I was lonely before. I know that. I had friends, at least I used to, but I lost them. Or they lost me. Why was it? I remember shouting, recriminations, and I was abandoned. No idea why. The memories are a blur. I do remember that they called me “toxic”. I don’t think I really knew what that meant, except that it was the reason I was so very painfully lonely. Was that it? Was I swayed and drawn simply by the prospect of being genuinely loved? Not loved as you would understand it. A deeper, more primal love. A need as much as a feeling. Love that consumes you in all ways.

You can’t help me. I’m sure of that now. I have tried to write it down, to put it into terms and words you could understand. And now I stare at it and not a word of it is even enough to fully describe the fact that I itch. Because ‘itch’ is not the right word. There is no right word because for all your Institute and ignorance may laud the power of the word, it cannot even stretch to fully capture what I feel in my bones. What possible recourse could there be for me in your books and files and libraries except more useless ink and dying letters? I see now why the hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note it’s every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.

I do not know why the hive chose me, but it did. And I think that it always had. The song is loud and beautiful and I am so very afraid. There is a wasps’ nest in my attic. Perhaps it can soothe my itching soul.”

I wish there was some kind of ibuprofen to take when there's something rotting deep inside you, something ripped open and oozing, that you can't ever reach, that you can feel pulsating behind your stomach at night, pleading to be put down

[monzabee]

short n' sweet (social media au) - op81

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where in an attempt to figure out who Y/N is dating, the internet come up with theories only to realise she is dating none other than Oscar Piastri and chaos ensues.

Pairing: oscar piastri x pop star!reader (model used: sabrina carpenter) (and domingooo)

Warnings: cursing (i think), sabrina carpenter is horny but it's okay we ride with it, feat the internet being the internet, i have a big fat crush on mercello hernandez so you have been warned

Auhtor note: came all this way, had to explain, direct from @percervall; mar this one is for you, i haven't had this much fun in a long time so thank you for indulging my brainrot and excitement😭🫶

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

yourusername

Liked by elleusa, taylorswift, gracieabrams and 3,255,376 others

yourusername: toto, i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore. short'n sweet cumming to a city near you! first stop: columbus, ohio

user: bro just give me ONE chance

user: SHE'S GORGEOUS ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: te amo diva

user: don't know if i wanna be with her or i wanna be her

view all 5,594 comments.

user: see you tomorrow pookie

user: cant wait to see u 🫶🏼✨🤍

user: she’s the sweetest & shortest 💋

user: it’s Y/N's world and we’re just living in it😭🤍🤍💋💋💋

user: is he talking about TOTO FUCKING WOLFF??

user: why is f1 everywhere, no she isn't😭

tiktokuser1

caption: bed chem from opening night!!

user: that mic is ON! ✨

user: I LOVE THIS DIVA!!

user: watching this isn’t enough, I have to be there

user: I need that bed.. NEOWWW

user: SHE BETTER BRING THE DAMN TOUR TO AUSTRALIA CAUSE THE FOMO IS CRAZY

user: oh i think she'll be bringing the tour to australia alright

user: what does that mean??

user: what do you know!!

tiktokuser2

caption: YO I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING BUT SHORT N' SWEET TOUR IS THAT GIRL!!

user: 'have you ever tried this one?' ugh her mind😭

user: IS THIS THE NEW NONESENSE OUTRO FOR THIS TOUR I NEED TO KNOW

user: i can't take my eyes off this, i've been staring at it for the past five minutes!

user: okay diva we see you👀

yourusername

Liked by madisonbeer, oscarpiastri, haileybieber and 4,182,928 others

yourusername: hello l.a., are you ready to wrap it up?

user: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

user: okay who is he and why is he lurking in my diva's likes?

user: MY QUEEN (me typing this while listening to espresso 👀)

user: just a girl living life and making everyone fall in love with her

user: i’m 26 and AFRAID of Y/N Y/LN

view all 7,011 comments.

user: the caption and the last pic with the kittens the vibes don't match i love you😭

yourusername: stoppp, i diee

user: how is this tour like halfway over ????? second leg of tour maybe???? 😭

tiktokuser3

caption: have you ever tried this one?

user: i don't know how she keeps coming up with these

user: imagine having this much freak, i wouldn't be able to leave my house

user: am i the only one who is excited for the last three shows in la??

user: her boyfriend is one lucky guy that's for sure

user: she has a boyfriend??

user: girl who do you think the guy in the white jacket and the thick accent is?

tiktokuser4

caption: omg guys😭😭 domingo is here😭😭

user: CAME ALLL THIS WAAY HAD TO EXPLAAAIN

user: deerect from domingoo

user: okay hear me out... mercello and Y/N??

user: noooo, this crossover is actually too insane i can't handle it

user: look at how he's looking at her bro's down bad😭

tiktokuser5

caption: WE'VE LOST HER TO DOMINGO GUYS

user: somebody call kyle and tell him the good news😭

user: who's kyle?

user: omg do you live under a rock or something?

user: am i the only one who thinks they are not dating?

yourusername

Liked by tiktok, oscarpiastri, marcellohdz and 3,669,817 others

yourusername: LA night 2 ♥️💋 second locationnnn maybe he’s biiii!!! see you tonight for our last show of the US leg :’) how the hell

user: God bless your Dad’s genetics, Domingo

user: OMG DOMINGOOO… “NOW SHES WITH A HOT GUY BUT HE LOOKS GAY, HEARD HIS NAMES DOMINGO”

user: DOMINGO IS CHEATING ON KELSEY

user: no hate to domingo, but oscar jack piastri liked this post under 1 minute😭😭

user: i think we've established that she is probably dating marcello, please stop with the delulu

user: Y/N IM HERE👹

view all 5,179 comments.

user: marcelo hernandez had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever… and he did

user: the budget for this tour is insane… feels like a literal broadway production

user: came all this way, let her explain deeerect from LA

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, madisonbeer, marcellohdz and 4,928,234 others

yourusername: date night but make it our way tagged: oscarpiastri

user: i'm sorrryyyy, but the dress is giving andie andersonn

yourusername: princess sophia is having some fun tonightt

user: this is still the most mind boggling couple ever BUT YOU LOOK GOOD THO

user: i'm so normal about this, i am sooooo normal about this

user: it's giving ross from friends and i am here for it

user: the best hard launch in the history of hard launches

oscarpiastri: great show, even better after party

yourusername: why did i know you were going to comment this

oscarpiastri: i'm literally sitting right next to you and you saw me type it

user: unhinged gf x calm bf duo is superior and this is the biggest proof ever

view all 6,728 comments.

marcellohdz: but what about domingo...

yourusername: i'm sorry domingo...

user: but is mark webber still alive, MARK ARE YOU THERE

oscarpiastri

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren and 928,256 others

oscarpiastri: came all this way, had to explain... tagged: yourusername

yourusername: 100% recommend, 5-star service

oscarpiastri: 😐

yourusername: 🥰

user: mister oscar jack piastri god bless your dad's genetics indeed

user: world class driving, world class relationship reveal

landonorris: okay but do we get free concert tickets ooor?

oscarpiastri: 😐

yourusername: of course!

user: this is actually so cute i'm going to throw up

view all 3,156 comments.

user: have you ever tried this one just took a whole other meaning

user: wait, are we going to see them together in las vegas??

user: the hard launching is insaneee

[premiumbitch]

THE M★THEMATICALLY PROVEN FINAL BOSS OF BE★UTY ⸝⸝ ...beauty things to script

DISCLAIMER: This is all an exaggeration. A little bit of wordplay. A comedic masterpiece, if you will. A funny, dramatic way to describe just how ridiculously, objectively, earth-shatteringly gorgeous you are. Do I actually believe that a mathematically proven phenomenon that could start and end wars? No. (But also… yes? Be serious.) (brainrot final boss) This is satire. It’s hyperbole. It’s me having fun with the fact that your beauty could destabilize global economies and leave historians scrambling for explanations. Take it lightly LMAO

WHAT IN THE GEOMETRIC PERFECTION?! My face card is so valid even Pythagoras would rise from the grave with a boner, calculator in hand, shaking and crying. The symmetry? Illegal. The proportions? A violation of the Geneva Convention. Like, be serious. I'm not just hot—I'm a mathematically proven phenomenon.

No because I know you saw how objectively stunning I am, and now your entire worldview has shifted. You consulted the Council of Baddies™ and they confirmed—I'm a PSL 10 giga Stacy, the standard, the template, the final boss.

My jawline alone could slice through the patriarchy, bad vibes, and My ex’s weak-ass Instagram caption. One glance and men start stuttering like a buffering YouTube video. Women? Questioning their sexuality. Scientists? Studying me in a secret underground lab.

I'm not just a girl, babe. I'm the human embodiment of the 'chef’s kiss' emoji. If they ever made a Sims update inspired by me, the player base would lose it. The beauty sliders would be maxed out, and even then, they wouldn’t come close to capturing all this perfection.

LIKEE the laws of physics are genuinely struggling to keep up with my beauty. NASA just released a statement—my gravitational pull is dragging satellites off course. Am I even real? Or did God accidentally drop his most exclusive angel on Earth and just hope no one would notice?

Historians are rewriting textbooks because my face alone could start AND end wars. Cleopatra WHO? Helen of Troy could never. If they put my face on a coin, the economy would skyrocket. Stocks? Up. Inflation? Gone. World peace? Achieved.

And let’s talk about my presence. Walking into a room? Earthquake levels of impact. People don’t just look at me—they experience ME. Men forget their girlfriends, women forget their boyfriends, and somewhere, an AI bot is malfunctioning trying to comprehend my ratio.

Honestly, if I had a dollar for every jaw that dropped when I walked by, I’d have enough to buy Twitter and shut it down. I don’t just turn heads, I cause full-body whiplash. Chiropractors are THRIVING because of me.

No, because I’m actually CONCERNED. Do I need to warn people before stepping out? Or do should I just unleash that level of perfection on the public unannounced? LikeUGHH do i really wanna be responsible?? Somebody’s weak little situationship is in SHAMBLES just because I EXIST.

I MEANN at this point, my existence is a public service and a national security threat at the same time. Like, I just KNOW somebody’s dad is side-eyeing their wife right now, reevaluating his whole marriage ‘cause I walked past. Flights are getting delayed because the pilots are too busy staring.

And my haters? Whew. They are suffering. I just know there’s a group chat somewhere with screenshots of my face and a bunch of "SHE'S NOT EVEN THAT PRETTY" messages. Babe, it's so obvious they’re TRYING (key word: TRYING) to nerf me but guess what: THEY COULD NEVA. They’re in the trenches, doing Olympic-level mental gymnastics trying to convince themselves that I'm not that girl.

Bitch let’s be serious. I AM that girl. I'm the final boss of femininity. The blueprint. The prototype. Photoshop could NEVER. FaceTune? Struggling to keep up. Aesthetic surgeons? Taking notes. HA I just KNOW somewhere in a Beverly Hills clinic, there's a picture of me taped to the wall under a sign that says “GOALS.”

OH & let’s not forget the effect I have on men & women. BABY. They're Weak. Embarrassing. A single glance from me? Their credit score improves, their childhood traumas basically disappear during that one moment I locked eyes with them, their partners gets suspicious. Half of my DMs are men & women explaining why they "normally don’t do this" and the other half are exes suddenly remembering how "special" I was. CUNT BE SERIOUS.

And now the star of the show: me (obvi). I deadass don’t even try. I just wake up, breathe, exist, and somehow entire ecosystems collapse. (greta thunburg hates me at this point) Meteorologists are blaming climate change on me ‘cause every time I step outside, I raise the temperature. People questioning why it's 10°C but every man AND woman in a 5-mile radius is SWEATING??

[forsworned]

JINX! YOU OWE ME A SODA! ft. KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK

Author's note: Because Kyle does not get enough love and I really wanted to write for him and the little interactions between the 141 :)

Tags: Sexual Content, Masturbation, AFAB!Reader, Brainrot convos amongst 141 men, Team Building and Banter w/141

It's breakfast time in the mess hall and Kyle is navigating to the usual spot that the 141 hangs out in. Clandestine, blue rusty bench right against the large panel windows, with a clear view of the crisp evergreens and wildflowers stretching out in the horizon. A peaceful outlook for a proper meal and some banter.

"Brekkie for a champ." Johnny winks up at him, noshing on his breakfast burrito.

Kyle chuckles as he takes his assigned-unassigned seat next to the friendly Scotsman and they start chatting about last night's fútbol game. It is followed by Simon sliding his tray, seating himself opposite Johnny with a quiet clatter as he attempts to slip his large body onto the bench. And then it's Price coming from behind him, jostling the skull-masked behemoth to scare him, but it's lost on Simon because he's just giving him an uninterested stare that causes the table to shake with laughter.

And you? You're sitting there from the outside, munching on your home fries with a pang of envy at their camaraderie. Never really having a taste of it as you sit alone most days unless you're on the go, rushing to a mission and you're sharing a ration bar with whatever squad they stick you in. But let's face it, no one really wants to be around you.

Jinx.

That was your nickname. Luckless, star-crossed with death, always skulking closely in your shadow.

Your reputation presided over you. Seven squads KIA, and you were the only one to survive them every single time.

So, it's no wonder you're a lone wolf in a mess hall full of lively, rowdy soldiers.

"Why don't we sit here?" A new recruit inquires to their Sergeant.

Their superior takes one glance at you before giving you a tight-lipped smile, "Actually, I just remembered Corporal Dunn (s/o to my mans) needs us back in his office, so let's just have lunch there, yeah?"

The rookie's wide, naive eyes peer over at you and they wordlessly nod at their CO and you don't even bother to see if they've glanced over their shoulders, whispering to one another about you.

"...seven...?!"

"Keep your voice down, soldier..."

"...sorry."

But somebody seems to have their sights set on you and your sharp, feline-like eyes are on the Sergeant tables away, tucked away into a corner and he can't help but jump a little as he's downing his morning brew.

And suddenly he's snorting it up and his teammates are throwing jests his way.

"Keep y'er coffee in y'er mouth, dammit!" Johnny bellows as he erupts into laughter, patting his back.

And there's something inaudible said by Kyle and you're studying the way his pretty, plump lips move.

"'s that Sergeant over there."

And suddenly four Brits are shamelessly turning your way and you're not tearing your gaze away from them as you're scoffing down your scrambled eggs.

"Heard she's lost seven squads, only one to make it out alive." Simon speaks in a nonchalant tone, popping a piece of celery into his mouth before his face contorts into something that resembles disgust.

A "Bloody hell, that's disgusting." is drowned out by the continued conversation between the three of them about your unfortunate rep.

"'s not the lass's fault." Price adds, leaning back a little to crack his spine. "Oh, yeah, tha's the stuff." A satisfied groan leaves his lips as he rests his elbows on the table, listening in on the little shred of gossip.

This time, it's between Johnny and Simon as Kyle zones them out and his honey eyes are training back on you. A frisson runs up his spinal column when he realizes your gaze never strayed. Like a cat, you're fixating on him, wagging your tail, not yet ready to strike just simply observing with a piquing interest.

And then the subject changes when Simon decides to make a jab at how Johnny's overgrown mohawk resembles a porcupine and he's chuckling to himself as the Scot gets riled up. Kyle thinks that one last glance won't hurt, but you're gone. Not even a trace of maybe some crumbs left from your English muffin. He's intrigued to say the least.

Kyle is spending his days in search of you. You're like an apparition that only gets spotted on odd days of the week at unsuspecting time frames, nestled snugly into unfrequented areas on base. He's trying hard to remember the way your hair looks, your lips, the curve of your nose but all that's burned into his memory is your pointed gaze burring holes into his vision.

He stays up late when he catches a glimpse of you in the armory as he's passing by it, in deep conversation with his Captain about how Koala bears do indeed have chlamydia. And he's backstepping to gaze through the window, but you're gone and he's starting to think that maybe you are a ghost.

How stealthy and lithe your body must have to be under that black, compression tee and those tight, tight tactical pants...

And he's fisting away at his dick, half frustrated and half aroused by the allure of your mystique. Little black cat, thumping her tail against the concrete with enigmatic, hypnotizing eyes that entrance him.

"Fuck!" And he's spilling all over his sheets, taut, heaving abdomen, and humiliatingly enough, right on his chin. He dabs at the cum that's dripping on his face and then gazes over the opulent arousal, before throwing his head back and groaning.

Why was you being such a quandary turning him into a fucking pillock?

"...Kyle...Kyle!" Price's hasty voice rips into his stupor, slinging him back into reality.

"Goddammit, Kyle, ya missed th' shot..." Price clicks his tongue, shaking his head under his gilly suit as he makes up for his mistake. "Are ya soft in’t head or summat?"

"No, sir." Kyle mumbles, embarrassed at the fact that his Captain is cleaning up after him.

"He's gey glaikit" Johnny pokes over the comms.

"English, MacTavish." Simon presses the Scotsman.

"He's fuckin' dazed." Johnny quips. "Fuckin' cunt."

And then there's a collective laughter amongst the four soldiers and Kyle can breathe again, the memory of you tossed into the backlogs of his mind as he's back in the fray.

But then it's 2am on the base, and he can't sleep so he's in the kitchen trying to whip up some Pinterest drink,

"Angel's milk?" He scrunches his brows at his phone screen as it casts a blue shadow over his flummoxed features.

He shrugs his shoulders as he squeezes the bottle of honey into the bottom of his mug, followed by a generous amount of milk, and then he pops it into the microwave for a minute and a half. He leans against the kitchen island and lets out a sharp exhale.

"You were supposed to add vanilla."

He practically feels his skeleton jump out of his skin at the voice, but he can't lie about the fact that he was more than elated to see who was standing beside him.

Hell's fuckin' bells, as Johnny would say.

She was standing beside him, arms crossed, hair in a cutesy haphazard manner, dark circles carved under your eyes, dressed in a little pink striped VS lounge set. And fuck, you smell so good. Like warm vanilla, candied almonds, and maybe coffee? It is difficult to say because he is too flustered by your abrupt appearance.

Your presence and how striking you were up close as you were far away, breathing, existing right next to him.

"Bloody hell, you scared the shite outta me." He swallows thickly, and for the first time, he sees the corners of your lips gracefully turning up into a smile. And oh man, it's making his dick twitch pretty violently in his blue-white tartan pajama bottoms.

"Did I?" Not bothering to hide the satisfaction in your voice nor your expression.

"Ya did, indeed."

And the tension is so palpable. His eyes are skimming over the exposed skin of your thighs, from the fresh baby pink manicure on your nails to your shiny, lacquered lips. You were a sight for sore eyes.

Thump, thump, thump.

He can practically hear your metaphorical tail thudding against the kitchen tiles right now.

The beeping of the microwave rips through the suspense and he pushes himself off the counter to retrieve his heated mug. Opening the utensil drawer to pull out a spoon to stir the little concoction, but his brows are raising when you reach over to squeeze two drops of vanilla extract into his drink.

"Tryna poison me, are ya?" He teases, peering over at you. You have a mischievous glint in your eye as you put the cap back on and carefully tuck it away into the cabinet for later use.

"Don't need to."

"Why's that?"

But you've already turned away, walking back to wherever you came from, hips swaying in your satin pajama shorts that outline every curve of your sweet body.

"Because you'd already be dead by now if it were up to me." You state over your shoulder and then you disappear into the abysmal hallway.

And then he's back in his room again, tightly coiling his hand around his slippery cock that's soaking with his own saliva and maybe a little bit of lube. Same shit, different night, though, this time he was blessed with an addition to his hyperactive imagination.

This time he's thinking about how you would look bouncing on his cock, smiling down at him with your hands around his neck. Pretty, shimmering lips parting as those sharp eyes drift to the back of your head and--

"Shiiiiiiiit."

He's shamelessly cumming all over the hardwood floor of his room, milking out his semen as it comes out in steady ropes and he is heaving. He feels how his cock is convulsing in his hand and he lets out a winded breath before tossing himself against his mattress with heavy eyelids. He goes to bed wondering how worn out he'd be if he ever got his hands on you.

"Oi, Johnny, how many bloody times d'ya need me to tell ya? Pick up y'r fuckin boxers after ya've had y'r shower, ya daft twat!" Simon's roaring echoed through the hallways of the base, shaking up the new recruits but just another day to passing soldiers who had been there for longer.

Price and Kyle merely observe the pair from the sofa in their living room as Johnny's form peeks out to an irate Simon who is standing in the doorway to the shared washroom. Johnny is nonchalantly drying off his mohawk that's now touching the nape of his neck as he peers at the rubber ducky boxers pinched between Simon's fingers.

"Why, ye get frightened over a pair o' kecks?" Johnny is totally poking the bear that is Simon 'Ghost' Riley, and Kyle and Price have to stifle their laughter. But truly this was better than reality TV, so they let it go on.

Simon merely blinks down at the impish grin on Johnny's face.

"You fuckin'..." Simon begins to say.

"No, you are fucking YOU ARE FUCKING!" Johnny boasts out and there is a twinkle in his eye and the two are at it.

"Fuck YOU BLOODY BASTARD BITCH!" Simon plays along as he starts shouting back at Johnny and that just riles him up like the giddy puppy he is, continuing the brainrotting bit. Add that to the laundry list of things that's already on the post-mission 141 routine.

And then there's a rapping at the door that cuts off the laughter and the ridiculous comedy skit that Johnny and Simon are playing out.

"I'll get it." Kyle volunteers getting up from the couch to peer through the peephole, but he feels a lump in his throat at the sight.

"What is it, Kyle?" Price asks in a hushed tone. He must've seen the way the Sergeant visibly stiffened.

"It's her." Kyle emphasizes in a way that lets on a little more than he's willing to admit.

"The lassie from the other day?" Johnny pipes up, suddenly very intrigued.

There's a chorused 'Shh!' at Johnny, who's baby blue eyes widen a bit as a small smile appears on his face.

"A'right, sheesh."

The room is quiet for a brief moment before Kyle just decides to bite the bullet and jingle the door open. And there you are, dressed monochrome as hell, like a second skin in your normal attire. Long-sleeve, slate-grey henley fitting snugly around your upper extremities while the black cargos are hugging tightly around your thighs, but is falling baggy below the knee.

He shifts his weight against the doorframe, supping up your every feature, pretending like he isn't falling apart on the inside at your mere presence.

"Can we help you?" He asks, coolly.

Smooth, Kyle. Smooth.

You narrow your eyes at him. "Actually, yes." You mimic the way he folds his arms across his chest before you take a deep breath.

"Laswell sent me over."

Price enters your line of sight, pressing his palm at the base of the casing, and peers down at you with a cocked brow.

"Laswell, you say?"

You shamelessly size up the Captain, not caring how your eyes are lingering a little longer than they should on him and his Sergeant. The pair cock an amused brow at your behavior before you shift on your other foot.

"Yeah, she said you could use my expertise, I suppose." You shrugged indifferently. Whether they choose to bring you on board wasn't really a huge concern of yours. By now, you were sure that they knew of your reputation, so if they took a chance on you right now, you'd be more than elated to join their elite task force even for just one mission. A huge part of you was itching to get back in the field, and honestly, you had a feeling that these men were a lot more resilient and capable of handling themselves enough to not get killed in the line of duty.

Price turns around to Johnny and Simon who approach from behind and they all share a look before peering down at you

"Let's get to work then, yeah?"

It is laborious work withholding himself from not jumping over the table and biting the flirty Scotsman's head off when he sees the way he was making you giggle. Using his boyish charm to woo you as he puts his arm around the back of the sofa to show you just how easy it is to hack into Russian portal sites to access any organized terrorist emails, threads, or private chats on any relevant intel they could muster up.

Making dirty hacker jokes like, "Ye got an access point fer me?"

To which Price shoots Johnny a knowing 'down boy' look and, of course, he just gives him a coy smile in response. It's infuriating.

So instead of simmering like a twat, he gets up to make himself a cup of coffee. And if it weren't for the smell of candied almonds and vanilla drowning into his senses, he would've never felt your presence standing beside him.

"Ya followin' me or are ya actually after a brew?" His eyes fall on you as he moves to lean against the counter and sip at his coffee.

"Make me one?" You ask with a reticent smile.

He swears he can feel the lump in his throat expanding as his pretty honey eyes flicker to you. He licks his dry lips before casting you a half grin and sets aside his mug. Kyle is a gentleman. He would never deny a lady's request. If the lady wants a coffee, then she will get a coffee.

He wordlessly prepares the machine once again, popping in the K-cup, letting it run until the mug is full and offers it to her. She sweetly thanks him and even her voice is enough to get a little rise out of him, but not long enough before he watches her hand the fucking brew to Johnny. Fingers tighten around the handle of the ceramic, but before it can crack a gloved skeleton hand reaches over his own and puts it down for him.

"Don' let tha' twat get to you." Simon's gruff voice cuts into the Sergeant's head. "He's jus' takin' a piss on ya."

They both glance over at the two who are back to being friendly, kicking their feet up before returning to their respective roles. But Johnny flickers his gaze to the hard stare he's feeling on him and gives them a cheeky wink and grin, toasting his mug to him before sipping at it. Kyle scowls at him.

"A Twat, he is."

The day of the mission is like any other day, but your scent is literally driving him into a maniacal state as he's adjusting the laces on his leather boots. This time it's reminiscent of musky prickly pears, and figs that are infused with your natural scent, and it's making him break a sweat.

But he snaps himself back into his domain. He spurns any invitation from you to sidetrack him when he's prepping. Humiliating himself in front of his Captain the last go around certainly exceeds the threshold of mortification he could handle. Add you into the mix and it's a recipe for disaster.

It was a simple enough objective. They were conducting a training exercise. A sweep and search to detect and disarm IEDs that were at a high risk to civilians inhabiting the south side of London without alarming the public. You were specifically instructed to wear concealed weapons, plain clothes, and a cigarette or two to blend in, but damn. Your ass looks so good in those low-rise jeans and the henley that's unbuttoned a little too far down...

Focus, Kyle.

"Mission like this is elementary for someone like you, innit?" Price breaks the silence, as he adjusts the gun in his holster. His brows raise at you as he chews on some cinnamon gum.

You playfully scoff, "Didn't make it this far to die on a simple sweep and search."

"Awe, don't look too doonfaced that ye haven't been sent on a real mission yet." Johnny ribs winking at you.

That earns a little chuckle from the gentlemen around you except for Simon. He's gazing out the window in a far-flung daze, and you bump your knee into him. His dark eyes flicker to you and he bumps your knee back in acknowledgement. Just black cat things.

Surprisingly that doesn't wrack Kyle's nerves. Instead, it just brings a smile to his face. Being aware of your status within the base made the small interactions you shared with them all the more charming. The skittish black cat in you began to emerge from the alleyway, hesitant to be petted but still willing to brush her tail against their calves.

Cute.

"Mate, if you take any longer, 'm gonna blow myself up for fun."

"Oh, feck off."

Playful banter is exchanged between Simon and Johnny, as they work in pairs to disarm the 'bombs' scattered throughout the city while remaining undercover. Thankfully, the five of you were out of earshot from any residents because you'd all have a field day with that one and something tells you that Price doesn't exactly have the patience for that kind of thing.

"Suprised you're not complaining." Kyle speaks up as he surveys you to cut the last wire to neutralize the threat. The grass is dewy, and there's a hum of cars passing on the slick streets as civilians shuffle past, huddled in coats.

"Nice work, [name]." Price praises, seeing that you completed your task. You cast a smile his way.

"Thanks, Cap."

And he's moving back to Johnny and Simon who are too preoccupied with one another to see that their Captain is a bit disgruntled with their lack of urgency.

"They're such knuckleheads." You chuckle to yourself.

Kyle glances over at the three who are now bickering over something that was now completely unrelated to the task. His smile grows.

"That they are."

"So, do I pass or what?" You stood up straight, glancing over at your Captain. He gives you a good-natured grin.

"Don't get too cocky now. It's still an op, y' know?"

You nod your head. He was right about that. It still was an active operation that could flip at any moment. Intrusive thoughts flood your mind and you feel frozen.

"Hey," You feel a grounding hand on your shoulder. You glance up to see Kyle warmly smiling down at you. "You'll be alright. We'll be alright."

Price feels pride wash over him as he looks at his Sergeant and then back at you as he folds his arms over his chest. "This isn't like any team you've ever been on before."

"I've heard the stories." You mimic your Captain's gesture. "barely hangin' off a heli and still managing to rush the enemy? Impressive."

"Upside down at that." Price claps Kyle's shoulder, causing him to become bashful at his Captain's words.

Your Captain averts his gaze to Johnny and Simon, who are on their last disarming. "Are you lot finished, yet?"

He goes on to berate the two who were taking a wee bit too long for his liking, leaving the both of you alone. Kyle awkwardly shifts his weight as he hovers his hand over his gun.

Your gaze is intense on him, not even bothering to pick up any conversation. He can practically see your tail twirling, feeling at ease with his presence while he feels himself gnawing away at his insides to say anything.

He takes a breath. "You're a lot calmer than I thought."

You shrug. "Well, when you've outlasted seven crews, what's eight?"

"Yeah, about that," You both pause for a moment, observing as a throng of pedestrians treks on the sidewalk just a few yards away, but they disappear behind the buildings unaware of your militant presence. "you wanna tell me why you're the only one who's made it out?"

You narrow your eyes at him. He is right to be suspicious, but you didn't feel like being scrutinized for the nth time. You were proven innocent in every situation, but something lingers in the back of your mind that makes you feel guilty every time. The memories of your missions have gone south, the sharp sting of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you dodge ricocheting bullets. But you shake the thoughts away. "Another time, maybe. Don't wanna jinx it, do we now?"

Kyle grins at that. His honey eyes fixate on you, searching your expression for anything that will give way to what you're really thinking.

Before either of you can say more, Price's voice cuts through the air. "Enough chit-chat. We've got one more to disarm and I want it done before anyone catches wind of what we're up to."

The tension between you dissolves as a new one accumulates in your shoulders as you refocus on the task and approach the final IED. You begin to feel the reality of the situation hit you when you realize everything could go insanely wrong. The public may be unaware, but the consequences of failure are all too real. Your consequences, your failure.

Price gestures for you to take the lead on this one, after all, you're the one he's really examining. You don't realize it, but he has full belief in your abilities. He's read your file and he knows damn well what you're capable of. You're under the scrutiny of your teammates, but one shoulder squeeze from your Cap gives you the morale boost to drop to one knee and begin your work.

Upon investigating the device, you realize it's like the other devices and you feel yourself relax a little. Kyle is at your side, and trepidation seeps into your fingers as they cruise over the wires.

"Blue or red?" he asks.

You don't even skip a beat. "Blue." you reply, trusting your instincts. "On my count."

Kyle readies himself with his wire cutters. "One. Two. Three."

You both carefully snip the wires, and for a moment it feels like the world stops. Your eyes watch as the device powers down, neutralizing the threat.

"That's it." you breathe out, feeling relief wash over you as allow your shoulders to relax.

Price steps forward, and claps you both on the back. "Good work, Wisp, both of you. Civvies are starting to get curious around here."

Wisp?

"Yeah, Wisp! Tha's a good one, Cap!" Johnny cheers, holding out his hands to give you a double high five. You giggle at the unexpected enthusiasm, but you high-five him back and intertwined your fingers together and he does a mini jig.

"Did a fine job." Simon politely nods, respecting your space, unlike his idiotic, cutesy counterpart.

Kyle clicks his tongue but is grinning otherwise at your success. The Scotsman can flirt all day with you, but he knows there is some brimming between you two. It was simply a game of cat and mouse at this point.

Wisp.

As you gather your gear, a lingering sense of impending doom still skulks in the back of your mind. You feel an itch under the skin where your past scars have healed over, but it's duller than usual. Pushing it to the back of your mind, you fall into step with Kyle feeling as though something has shifted in your dynamic with everyone.

In that crucial moment, Kyle trusted you. They all trusted you. It lingers in your mind, a question left unasked.

Kyle nudges, catching your gaze. His smile stretches beautifully across his face. "Guess we make a good team don't we, Wisp?"

Wisp.

You can't help but return the smile, feeling the butterflies settle in your stomach. You feel reborn. "Guess we do."

As you walk away from the site, blending back into the hustle and bustle of the city, you can't help but wonder what your next mission will bring. Whether the tension that is rising between Kyle and you will go unspoken. For now, you'll allow yourself to savor your victory. You've come out of it unscathed. They came out of it unscathed. As awful as it was, that's more than what you could ever say about your last teammates.

And as the rain falls softly around you, you feel like the hell you've endured is somehow worth it.

[anyasathenaeum]

Inexperienced!Choso Thoughts

A/N: I just really want to do [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] and [redacted] [redacted] this guy, okay? Shoutout to the anon who gave me this brainrot about Choso. It incorporates bits of this at the beginning. It's also not a full-blown fic, just some Thoughts™. Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms and body parts are used, mentions of penetrative, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), oral (m receiving), guided/taught masturbation, overstimulation, a tiny hint of accidental roughness, Choso being whiny (WOO!).

Inexperienced!Choso, who has no idea what all the new feelings in his body mean, why his whole body feels like it's on fire whenever he's around you and makes his cock so hard that it hurts. What's he supposed to do about it?

Inexperienced!Choso, who comes to you in the middle of the night, asking for an explanation of what he's feeling when he can't sleep because of the fire that courses through his veins and all the images of you naked and beneath him he has whirling around in his brain.

Inexperienced!Choso, who immediately takes it on board when you explain that his feelings are him being "horny" and indicative of his body wanting to mate with somebody and kindly offer to help him with the discomfort it's causing him

Inexperienced!Choso, who ends up cumming the second your soft hand grips his cock, making him whine and pant loudly as his cock throbs and twitches, his seed coating your hand.

Inexperienced!Choso, who accidentally pushes your head down as you're sucking his cock when he feels another orgasm coming, pushing his cock to the back of your throat as he cums and making you choke a little (he immediately apologized afterwards)

Inexperienced!Choso, who ends up fucking you over and over all night as his whines and moans echo through your room, filling you to the brim with his cum and giving you orgasm after orgasm until your brain and body feel like they're made of jelly and you're unable to move, let alone walk the next day.

Inexperienced!Choso, who overstimulates himself to the point of crying but still continues to thrust into you almost desperately, needing to empty himself into you as much as possible. His body wants nothing but to stay bound to yours, claiming you as his in the only way he knows how.

Inexperienced!Choso, who after that night, decides to be a good boy and do some research about having sex and how to make you feel even better the next time you two have sex because Choso cares about your pleasure.

Inexperienced!Choso, who ends up getting aroused while doing research (aka watching porn), and doesn't know what to do about it. You're not around to help him this time as you're out doing errands, so Choso just tries to ignore it (it doesn't work).

Inexperienced!Choso, who's whining and panting against you the moment you get home, his dick painfully hard and the tent in his boxers painfully obvious as he pulls you against him, his lips pressing against yours as he tries and fails at not grinding his erection against your thigh as he whines, "Please, please, (Y/N), please, help me. Need you. Need you. Please, need you so much it hurts."

Inexperienced!Choso, who listens to you with wide eyes as you ask him why he didn't just masturbate, cocking his head to the side as he repeats unsurely, "Masturbate? What's that?", making your eyes widen in surprise as you realize just how inexperienced Choso really is.

Inexperienced!Choso, whose large hand coated in spit slowly wraps around his cock, making him hiss and his cock twitch almost immediately at the contact. Your much smaller hand wraps around his hand as you lay next to him in his bed, talking him through touching himself and making himself feel good.

Inexperienced!Choso, who sees stars and lets out a loud moan the first time he pumps himself from base to tip, fucking into his hand as you guide him gently, pressing soft kisses to his jaw and neck as he follows your instructions.

Inexperienced!Choso, who's a quick learner and begins to thrust into his hand faster and faster, cries and whines of your name escaping him as your hand continues to rest on his as he fucks into it.

Inexperienced!Choso, who feels his orgasm hit him full force as you mumble the softest and gentlest words of praise in his ear as he touches himself, whispers of "That's a good boy, that's it, Choso, you're doing so well touching yourself like that. Good job," making the loudest cry yet escape his lips as his cock twitches and cum spurts all over his abdomen, painting himself in white.

Inexperienced!Choso, who despite having just cum, pouts softly as he looks as you, tugging on you slightly as he whines, "I don't like that I didn't get to make you feel good, though. That doesn't feel fair."

Inexperienced!Choso, whose eyes widen as you blush and lean back in his bed, spreading your thighs a bit so he can see just how soaked your panties are beneath that dress of yours. Watching Choso get himself off for the first time with your guidance and listening to his noises had your pussy aching for him.

Inexperienced!Choso, who immediately wraps his large hands around your thighs and pulls you down towards him, making you yelp at his sudden display of strength.

Inexperienced!Choso, who presses a gentle kiss to your clothed pussy before he tears your panties clean off of you, making you pout - you really liked that pair. Choso sees your pout and he immediately presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I promise I'll buy you a new pair. Just... let me make you feel good, first."

Inexperienced!Choso, who despite his eagerness, realizes that he doesn't really know what he's doing, and so he looks up at you from between your thighs, his cheeks beautifully pink as he asks you, "Teach me how to make you feel good?"

[mysticheroine]

patience.

pairing: zayne x fem!reader.

warnings: smut.

a/n: zayne brainrot...

thinking about zayne coming home from work and finding you touching yourself. he was frustrated enough at work, and this certainly didn't help. he approached the bed, kneeling at the foot of it, and that's when you finally noticed him.

"i see somebody was never taught patience." zayne tsk'd as he loosened his tie from around his neck, "you knew i would be home soon, yet you just couldn't wait."

you swallowed hard, as zayne grabbed your legs, pulling you down the bed so you were within reach. he ran his hands down your body - from your breasts, down your stomach. his movements were so slow, they almost tickled, causing you to squirm in his grasp. a smirk pulled at his lips, but he didn't say anything.

he brought his hand down between your legs, running his fingers through your wet folds. wasting no time, he inserted one finger, knuckle deep. he began to pump his finger in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, humming in content as you begged him for more.

"z-zayne," you moaned, "please don't tease me."

you attempted to move your hips so you could grind into his hand, trying to get the friction you so deeply desired. however, zayne's free hand came up to hold your hips and keep you in place.

"ah, ah, ah, baby. you'll take what i give you." zayne taunted you, "if you're able to do that, then maybe i'll let you cum tonight."

[2jinbi]

hi everyone :3 this is my first time ever writing anything. i’ve never written anything before but i have really bad jjk brainrot right now so i created this account to dump this stuff on. please ignore any spelling mistakes! english is not my strongest suite. im good at it but yk, im not an experienced writer. please feel free to give me criticism. i also dont know if this is formatted right because, well, refer to what i said before lol.

warnings: aged up chars, fluff, slightly ooc, uncle yuuji n auntie nobara 🥹, baby’s name is fumiko (fumi for short), just something fun and short and silly

“no, you can’t eat that!” nobara takes the rubix cube from the infant’s hand. she throws the rubix cube somewhere else as she goes back to filing her nails. she’s left wide-eyed, and you can already tell by the look alone she’s about to start crying. you never understood. yes, she was a baby, but even so, questions are questions. you stop what you’re doing and kneel down next to fumi.

“shh, come here,” your voice is a barely above a whisper. she bursts into tears and starts crying loudly as you place her on your hip and bounce her gently.

“somebody shut that damn baby up, please. focus is key.” yuuji says without sparing a glance at you. he’s too focused on his chess game—you can tell by his body language and posture. yuuji had picked up the hobby literally out of nowhere. you went over to his apartment one day and saw a huge chess board spread across his coffee table. “i learned chess three days ago. todo taught me. he beat my ass really bad. i learned to win against him, and just out of spite,” he chuckles.

“watch it. that’s my kid,” megumi warns. yuuji eyerolls to that—he knew he could never say anything bad about fumi in his presence. it’s not like he did, anyway. he loved fumi like his own; she was everything to him. he wanted to crack a joke but forgot megumi doesn’t joke about his kid. he heaves a sigh and blinks. “well, your kid is distracting me. i can’t focus with the crying.”

“shut up, yuuji. she’s just a baby!” nobara quickwits. fumi had settled down now, but only because she got tired of crying. you know she’d begin again anytime. “she’s right. babies will do baby things. plus, fumi’s teething now, and she’s in constant pain, so she’s bound to throw fits.” megumi defends. it brings a smile to your face.

“you’re not a very good uncle, ‘y’know,” you said amused. you opened your mouth to speak, but nobara got to it first. “beefing with a baby is crazy to me,” nobara raises her brows and whistles. “no way you guys are ganging up on me.”

fumi starts fussing again, and you can see her trying to escape your arms. she’s reaching her father. you frown slightly but walk over to megumi and hand her to him. he smiles warmly at her and kisses the top of her head. “hi baby,” he says softly. yuuji already accepted defeat. he knew megumi wouldn’t finish the game like this. “you’re so cute, baby. so cute,” he cradles his baby. you’re in awe at the sight. megumi never spoke like this to anyone—his voice was never this soft spoken unless it came to you or his daughter. you notice fumi’s eyes flutter, and she yawns. in a matter of minutes, she’s sleeping. megumi walks to your room and places her in the crib.

“she’s sleeping now. don’t worry,” he walks over to you and places a chaste kiss on your lips. “you’re so gorgeous. i love you so much.” you feel your cheeks heat up intensely. nobara audibly retches, and yuuji looks away, embarrassed. “ew. please get a room.” “agreed!”

megumi’s face twitches. “shut up!”

[jayparked]

thinking about boyfriend jo...

GENRE: fluff WORD COUNT: 1.1k WARNINGS: jo soft hours are lethal somebody hold me pls SNAIL TRAIL: hi i wrote this a few days ago at like 9am when i should have been asleep so it's pure fluffy brainrot. thank you @dazzlingjaeyun for working so hard to push jo further up my bias list and i'm pretty sure she hypnotized me to start writing for &team so this is all her fault 💛

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who loves holding your hand, no matter if it's in public or private. feeling the way your fingers interlock with his brings him a huge wave of comfort, grounding him in place. he'll mindlessly play with your fingers, especially if you're waiting in line for something. he loves the feeling of spacing out while also being grounded by your touch

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who likes to walk behind you so he can just watch you skip around in front of him. loves watching you get distracted by different things and loves it even more when you excitedly turn around to him with a big smile on your face, pointing to something that caught your attention that you want him to see

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who's touch is always so gentle and savoring. the way his fingers ghost over your skin, especially when they're absentmindedly moving up your arms or legs. or when he's playing with your hair. his movements are slow and intentional, just loving the way your skin feels against his

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who can't help but smile every time he sees something that reminds him of you. his camera roll is filled with photos of things to send you: items in your favorite color, things he finds pretty, songs he wants to share with you, pictures of the sunset etc. he's always buying you little trinkets and leaving them on the dinner table for you to see when you get home

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who finds a new thing he loves about you everyday. each thing being the topic of his obsession from morning until dawn. you yawned cutely? he's not shutting up about it. in fact, he's trying to make you yawn even more by saying the word over and over again, making sure you're nice and cozy just hoping you'll do it again or even fall asleep against his chest. or if he sees you do something kind for a stranger, he won't stop bringing it up. "you're so sweet, why are you so sweet?"

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who will always carry anything you have in your arms whether it be a bag, books, drink etc. he's not even asking. just either taking it from you or holding his hand out, eyebrows quirking up if you try to refuse. he'll even thank YOU once you give it to him, leaving a soft kiss on your temple as he does so

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who always shares his food with you, subtly adding more to your plate when you're not looking or even holding bites in front of your mouth. he'd even open his own mouth wide, like someone would do in front of a baby to get them to mimic the action, and smile fondly once you've taken the bite

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who leaves sticky notes for you to find in random places. some with small drawings, others with quotes he likes or just words of encouragement. he loves when you find them when he's around because he gets to hear you giggle and the sound of your feet running towards him to give him a hug and a kiss

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who loves when you pepper his face with kisses until he's laughing so hard he can't breathe. sometimes he even needs to physically hold you back at arms length just so he can catch his breath. but once he does, he's leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose or on the side of your cheek, slowly working his way up into his own retaliation smooch frenzy

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who keeps a list of everything you love in his notes app. from your favorite snacks, favorite songs, favorite stores etc. even though he has the information memorized like the back of his hand, he likes seeing the list compiled physically in front of him and loves adding to it. it shows him how he's still learning new things about you everyday. and one day he feels like his heart is going to burst when he sees his name at the end of the list, wondering just when you managed to sneak that in

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who loses his breath when he sees you in the sunlight. he takes a few moments to admire you from afar before you see him, watching the way the sunrays make your hair shine. his stomach feels full of butterflies that only worsen when you finally see him, calling out his name excitedly. when his hand naturally finds yours he feels like the luckiest man in the world, still not sure how he got so lucky to have you as his partner

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who will confront anyone who makes you upset. a stranger was rude to you? he's going to point it out. even if his voice wavers slightly, he's going to make sure you're okay and let that person know he's not going to let that happen again. if the waiter gets your order wrong and you don't feel comfortable speaking up? he will easily. your comfort and needs always eclipses his shy introvertedness

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who loves taking candid pictures of you, even if you don't like having your picture taken. he tries to be subtle about it, but doesn't try to deny it when you catch him. stating he's just admiring the view.

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who does grand gestures for special occasions like valentines day, your birthday, or anniversary. breakfast in bed, balloons everywhere, a handwritten note with an array of flowers and treats on the table. he'd also print out all his favorite photos of the two of you together, attaching them to the strings of the balloons. later that night when you're on the couch watching a movie you'd both be scrapbooking the pictures together. decorating with stickers, silly captions, and reminiscing about the memories

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who will let his mind wander and think about his future with you a lot, even getting embarrassed or shy by his own thoughts. he often catches himself rambling about things to you like "do you think when we get married we'll do stuff like-" / "when we live together-" he just gets so caught up in the moment

₊✩ˎˊ˗ bf!jo who just loves you sososososo much he sometimes doesn't know what to do with himself but always tries his best to make sure you know you're loved and cared for. sometimes feeling guilty that you're able to love him so effortlessly so he tries really hard to express that same effortlessness to you. he's so fond of you, is so endeared and just can't imagine not having you in his life

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 02/20/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

[karmaajr]

HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰

anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person/being/blog/existancewhatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)

and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍

🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D

sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)

✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️

I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT

btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋

anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧

also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!

karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3

karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^

important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)

karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘

daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰

my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO

NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶

BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏

btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍

ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)

@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏

@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"

@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!

@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)

@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE

@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)

(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)

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(dots r fun)

anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D

ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️

WAIT

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.......... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.................... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.............................. ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

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THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼‍♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

[3rachaslut]

late night car sex with lee know

SMUT minors DNI !!!

warnings; dom!lee know & sub!fem reader, dirty talk, slapping, consensual !! kinda rough sex, oral fixation, gagging on fingers, choking, pet names (kitten, doll, babygirl etc) daddy kink, slight dumbification, degrading, praise if you squint. let me know if i’ve missed anything

(reader is wearing a dress and lipstick) xox

i cant stop thinking about car sex with lee know like it’s actually giving me brainrot

“But somebody might see..” you say cowardly, alertly scanning your surroundings from inside the car, straddling Lee Know’s hips in the drivers seat.

“I didn’t think you would mind too much baby girl, not after seeing how you put yourself on display for the other members tonight wearing this little number” Lee Know slyly comments, beginning to unzip your dress from behind you, trailing wet kisses all down your neck and collar bone. The moans you were letting out only encourages Lee Know to become rougher with you, marking you. His hands find the straps to your dress and pull them down, caressing his way down to your tits, your nipples getting hard as soon as they hit the cool air. He rubs across your sensitive nubs and you throw your head back in bliss.

“So pliable aren’t you kitten, look at you.” You feel the tent growing in Lee Know’s suit trousers underneath you and you begin to grind on top of him. Lee know scoffs. “Pathetic..” he says as you let out a whimper.

“Daddy...” you whine and his hands find your throat, squeezing hard and your mouth gapes open, your clit throbbing.

“Words kitten” he responds, glaring up at you through hooded eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Wan- you” You utter breathlessly, the grip on your throat only getting tighter and you felt yourself slipping further into subspace. Your absolute favourite place to be with Lee Know.

“Oh darling..” he whispers up at you and you feel your pussy getting wetter at his tone. His hands find his zipper and he is quick to undo his pants, shimmying them down a little along with his boxers. “You wanna ride daddy? hm?” he tilts his head at you and waits for you. The restraint of his hand around your neck only lets you reply with a long, desperate whine.

“Ride me then baby girl” He says, loosening the grip on your neck in order to let you position yourself on his cock, now fully hard at the sight of your beautiful figure on top of him.

“Hmm sir..” You mumble, feigning cautiousness.

“I said, ride. me.” Your eyes meet Lee Knows and he’s staring back at you with a daring glare. You absolutely loved this side of your boyfriend and feeling so at his will. “or did you not fucking hear me?” He grunted out the last few words as he pushed you down onto his cock, groaning as your pussy took him in entirely. You moaned at the amazing stretch his dick caused and you buried your head into his shoulder. You stilled on his cock as you adjusted to his size and he grabbed your chin, moving your face to look at him. “Grind kitten”

And you do, like a bitch in heat. Your eyes are locked to each others and your mouth falls open as his free hand finds it’s way under your dress to rub at your clit.

“No panties? Naughty slut” He swiftly slaps your face and you moan in response, the sting going straight to your pussy. His fingers find your mouth and you happily let them in, swirling your tongue around his digits desperately. “Such a whore” He says, shaking his head in faux disapproval. “So desperate for daddy’s dick? Gone fucking dumb on my cock like a real slut hm?”

“Mhm mhm” you quickly reply in desperation, all ability to form a coherent sentence lost. You gag as his fingers began to deepthroat your mouth, your body lurching forward slightly, his other hand still rubbing mercilessly on your cunt.

“Gooood girl” He coos as he continues to gag you on his fingers and you speed up your movements on his cock. He takes his spit covered fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your lips, smearing your lipstick across your chin.

“C..close..sir” You utter and he begins rutting into you.

“Yeah? You gonna come on daddy’s cock baby? Good girl. Seeing you so dumb on my cock like this makes me wanna fucking ruin you doll” He says as he drills into you.

“Com..coming daddy! ahh!” you nearly scream out. Your pussy tightens around Lee Knows length and his thrusts begin to falter.

“Come with me kitten- fuck” Lee Know grunts. And you do. Both of you letting out swears and moans as you ride out your highs. You rest your forehead on Lee Knows as you breath in sync, catching your breath.

“My good girl” Lee Know says lovingly. He plants a soft kiss on your lips and you smile.

“I love you baby” You whisper.

“I love you too. Let’s go home angel”

[strze-lec]

i'm gonna say it cause it's giving me brainrot, please please please please somebody fic it because i can't

someway, somehow, the police actually get the hint of the games during the revolution inside and they cannot resume the games right away. Everyone gets put back to their old lives, but no money is given (so they can have an incentive for them to come back later) and all the vips and organizationall staff needs to lay low. Gi-hun does learn of In-ho's or rather Young-il's dayjob as a Frontman before he loses consciousness by the gas they put the players to sleep by.

So Gi-hun ends up back in his hotel with no new evidence and only a fresh memory of more people dying, of his best friend dying and being betrayed by another he started calling his friend. He's tethering on the edge of anger and depression and regularly falling on both sides.

At some point, he realizes he's not alone in the hotel, but the signs are subtle. It takes him a while. Eventually, he meets the self-invited guest, the last person he wants to see: In-ho. He's smirking when he tells Gi-hun his security protocols are laughable. Gi-hun doesn't waste time talking to him and throws himself at In-ho, trying to off him, but after a rather lengthy fight that In-ho is mostly just blocking his advances, they separate and out of breath Gi-hun spats the question of what he's doing here. In-ho's not even winded and tells him he needed a place to lay low for the time being and there's probably no place lower than this hellhole. Of course, they get into a fight of words this time (or more so, Gi-hun treats this encounter as an argument) and Gi-hun says he's going to go to the police and In-ho's like "you do you, but you have no proof, and don't forget you have a stack of illegally aquired, no-tax-paid money and when push comes to the shove, between the two of us it's you who look more like the Frontman" and literally walks away back to the room he claimed as his

then there's some shouting and threatening on Gi-hun's part about you know, offing him in his sleep or sending someone to do it for him but In-ho's really not concerned with that

so it ends up with Gi-hun deciding he's going to use In-ho's presence to either successfully take him off the living plane or gather evidence to jail him. At the same time, In-ho is just having a great time being a bother, watching his favorite human go mad and generally giving "the game's off right now so i'm just gonna relax and be obnoxiously myself"

In-ho makes the long-forgotten hotel's kitchen clean again and likes to spend time there making good food (he offers it to Gi-hun but he's suspicious he'll poison him), taking relaxing baths and walking only in a towel afterwards, pissing off Gi-hun ("you jump at every sound. Who traumatized you?" or "relax, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead") and catching up on reading and TV shows ("do you have any idea how much preparation goes into these games? I didn't spend the last three years dilly-dallying like you did").

At some point, Gi-hun begins to follow him when he notices In-ho going out regularly and realizes that he's helping in a shelter for troubled youths - helping them study, cooking with them etc. When Gi-hun confronts him about recruiting new players, In-ho points out that they still have a chance to get out of the lowlife status their parents brought them up in and it's a logical part of his worldview of cleaning the streets. Asks Gi-hun how actievly he puts his hero mentality into usage to be judging his choices. And then questions if it's easier for Gi-hun to demonize him, see him only as a monster if he doesn't know he likes fried rice and teaches at risk teenager's how to budged. If he feels better with himself not knowing In-ho shops his vegetables and fruits from old ladies like the player 149 and had too many "this is your life, you need to decide what's best for you" talks with girls like player 222.

Gi-hun takes a long route to the hotel and when In-ho offers him fried rice this evening, he sits quietly across from him and eats it. He's still fuming about everything In-ho did and does and will do once the game is resumed but still needs to come up with a plan how he's actually going to achieve his goal in In-ho's case and he reasons that pretending a truce - somewhat like In-ho did during the game - is the best option.

So he forces himself to relax and accept In-ho's current presence in his life and pretends he's able to talk to him like he was a human too.

This action will have consequences.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

a mix-up of good omens-coded songs (idk how to title this--)

Hellooo my maggots, so there were a number of songs that were just so good omens and ineffable lovers coded that I had to see how they sounded together. But me being me, I don't know how to actually mashup songs, so I just sang it the way I'd have wanted to mashup the songs and made it into one song.

Of course all songs remind us of Good Omens now, that's a different matter of significant concern. But these especially were very Aziraphale and Crowley's religious-trauma-and-being-queer vibey.

The songs I cover here are (in order and excluding repeats) Devil's Backbone by the Civil Wars, Take Me to Church by Hozier, Angel By the Wings by Sia, Falling by Harry Styles, Holy Water by Noah Davis, The Village by Wrabel and Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.

And, well. Yep. The lyrics in the order that I sing them are below the cut. Thank you maggots for dragging me into this brainrot it is painful and unholy and I love it here so so much. Thank you @falling-raine for yelling at me to post this. Wahoooooooo!

[LYRICS] Oh lord, oh lord, what have I done I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run Oh lord, oh lord, I’m begging you please Don’t take that sinner from me Oh, don’t take, take, take, take Take me to church, I’ll worship like a dog At the shrine of your lies, I’ll tell you my sins And you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death, good god, let me give you my life Oh lord, oh lord, what do I do? I’ve fallen for someone who’s nothing like you He’s raised on the edge of the devil’s backbone I just want to take him home Oh, I just want to take, take, take So take an angel by the wings, Beg her now for anything,  Beg her now for one more day Just take an angel by the wings Time to tell her everything Ask her for the strength to stay What am I now? What am I now? What if I’m someone you won’t talk about? I’m falling again, I’m falling again I’m falling  I’ve walked through hell and back again Cause I’m a man who loves a man No you don’t need to pray for me No I don’t need your Holy water I don’t need your sympathy, sympathy, your— Holy water Just cause you think differently, differently There’s nothing wrong with you It’s true, it’s true There’s something wrong in the village, in the village Oh Coz I’ve been there, sitting in the same chair Whispering that same prayer half a million times It’s a lie though, buried in disciples One page of the Bible isn’t worth a life But I’ve heard there was a secret chord That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don’t really care for music Do ya? And it’s not a cry that you hear at night It’s not somebody who’s seen the light It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah Hallelujah.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I love them so much.

[melanieph321]

Hi there,

I'm a long time reader here and i really like all of your fics. I don't know if you're taking requests or not but if you do, could you perhaps make a fic based on this :

https://www.tumblr.com/youandiwerealive/748931841255522304/httpswwwtumblrcomyouandiwerealive74892968529?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/youandiwerealive/748933629341761536/flight-attendant-ruben-ok-but-how-about?source=share

Idk why but these brainrots really intrigued me and i think you have the capabilities to turn them into a fic

I understand if you don't take request. Anyway, have a good day ❤

I AM SCREAMING!!!!

Like no. I saw @youandiwerealive and anon, whom assume is you, talk about this. And I found it so hilarious and relatable. Ruben as a flight attendant 🤣🤣

Of course I will write this request. Even better. Imma make it a 3 parts series 🤪!

Ruben Dias x Reader - Flight Hours Part 1/3

Part 2 Part 3

Ruben and Reader are flight attendants on their way to Portugal. Although they are off to a bad start, the two end up finding common ground.

Enjoy!

Back to back flights were such a nightmare. But when you as a flight attendant complained to your bosses about it, they would hit you with the usual "It's holiday season, it will blow over" bull crap.

You made sure to arrive at your gate early. Earlier than the rest of your cabin crew members. It was a fancy plane this one, where passengers in first class could take a shower if they wished to. Since you weren't given a chance to do so this morning flying from Frankfurt to Dubai, taking a shower is exactly what you were going to do now. It wasn't exactly protocol of you to use the passengers' accommodation, though, especially not the first class ones. But since the airline had such high demand on personal hygiene and frankly a quite misogynistic beauty standard amongst it's employee. You saw it fitting for you to at least clean yourself ahead of your flight.

"Excuse me, is somebody in there?"

"No, wait!"

However, just as you were rinsing out your hair, someone unlocked the doors, exposing you mid shower.

"Puta." The man said, or more so gasp. His eyes shamelessly traveled down your naked body, eyeing you like some kind of prey.

"Shut the fucking door!" You shouted, however the man remained in the doorway, causing a draft. He was another flight attendant, you were sure of it. You could tell just by the way that this sort of situation failed to startle him.

"You must be Frankfurt?"

"Pardon?" Your hands left your hair, a sudden urge to cover yourself. However, the man had already seen it all.

"You came in this morning, no? From Frankfurt Airport?"

"Right."

"I'm Ruben Dias, I'll be flying with you from Dubai to Lisbon."

The man was such a dickhead, having audacity to offer you to shake his hand, with a large grin on his face. Mind you that you stood before him in a shower, butt-naked.

"I'm Y/N." You shook his hand just to end the conversation and for him to go away.

"Nice to meet you, Frankfurt. And what a lovely tattoo."

"You fucking...."

Ruben shut the door in your face, his laughter trailing down all the way to the cockpit where he probably ran to tell the captains about your encounter. Your hand went to the butterfly tattoo on your hip, awfully close to your....you know what. If Ruben had spotted it, he would have also seen your newly waxed kitty cat on full display.

"What a fucking nightmare of a flight this is gonna be."

Based on how it started you expected the worse, however, things turned out pretty quiet on your side. Luckily for you the two male flight attendants were assigned to first class, while you and another female flight attendant stayed back in economy. It was the first time sexism worked in your favor. However, you ran into Ruben every now and then when the two of you were either on a break or topping up your snack and beverage carts.

"Frankfurt? What a pleasure meeting you here."

You rolled your eyes,  having heard Ruben coming from a mile away. He always seemed to leave first class with a trail of giggling women. It wasn't uncommon for flight attendants to be charming, but to flirt with passengers was simply unprofessional.

"My name is Y/N, not Frankfurt."

"It doesn't matter up here." Ruben said, reaching for something in the cabin above your head. The smell of him invaded your nostrils without consent, the worst part being that he smelled amazing.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

Ruben had gone to grab himself a can of coke and two plastic cups. Your name doesn't matter up here in the sky." He explained. "It's no mans' land. Up here, we only care about where you came from and where you're going. Up here, you're Frankfurt, and I'm Portugal."

"Well, that's stupid." You muttered.

Ruben chuckled and poured the can of coke into the plastic cups. "Here." He said, offering you one.

You only accepted because you were thristy, not because of the way Ruben was staring at you as your hands touched when he handed you the cup. Nor because of the way that the soft lights hit his face as he leaned back against the wall, regarding you even more seductively.

"So..." He sighed, after finishing his cup of coke, waiting for you to do the same.

"So." You smiled, perhaps your first time doing so, at least in front of Ruben.

"Are you member of the Mile High Club?"

You should have known that only something stupid would come out of that pretty little mouth of his.

"Wait, wait. I'm just kidding." Ruben said, grabbing your wrist as you turned your back on him. "Jesus Frankfurt, is it that hard for you take a joke?"

"For your information, nothing of what you say is funny to me. And to answer your question, no, I've never fucked in a airplane bathroom. As a flight attendant yourself you should know how disgusting and unhygienic that would be."

Ruben regarded you with interest, shrugging his shoulders. "It doesn't have to be in a bathroom, could also be in a shower."

"Fuck you."

The last thing you saw was Ruben's large grin. You left him on your way back to economy, where you planned to spend the rest of your flight, avoiding Ruben at all cost. It was incredible, though, how handsome he was. How the stewards uniform suited him as if it was tailor-made. It outlined his braud shoulders and swollen biceps. If it wasn't for his big mouth, you wouldn't hesitate to go for a man like him. And, no, it wasn't unusual for flight stewards to have affairs with each other, certainly not when the airline was paying for your hotel rooms. However, once you landed in Lisbon, all you wanted to do in your hotel room was to sleep.

Part 2 Part 3

[suzukiblu]

Hi sorry I'm new here so I'm not sure how the whole WIP thing works - is it only things you're actively writing? I'm not trying to pressure you or anything, I've just been fully brainrot consumed by your Red Hood omegaverse WIP and I haven't seen anything about it in almost a month. Again, sorry if this comes off as pushy ;-;

You're all good, man, I am always of the "ask if you don't know" mindset! Just makes the most sense, imo. And thank you, glad to hear you're enjoying . . . um presumably the DickJay one since that one specifically namedrops "Red Hood" in the WIP tag and also I don't THINK I've updated my other Jason-related omegaverses in the past month-ish, but heck if I actually remember either way, haha. 😅😅

Basically the way it works around here is I have about eight hundred billion WIPs I consider "active" ( there's an alphabetical but still slightly chaotic list of specifically the DC ones right here; just make sure to open that link in a browser if you're on the app 'cuz sometimes the app gets tetchy with it ) and I work on whatever I'm vibing with unless either:

a) I am actively running WIP Wednesday or a similar writing meme, in which case I will put up a post about said writing meme and its rules and what the options to request from are (WIP Wednesday typically goes up 12:30pm EST the weeks I do it, but other request memes I just do randomly )

OR

b) someone donates to me on Ko-fi, in which case I write them thank-you words or sentences, word count and specific WIP depending on if it's a one-off dono or a specific subscription tier ( those explanations/rules are a little hard to summarize down to an elevator pitch but are all on my Ko-fi page if/as needed ).

Otherwise, like I said, it's just whatever I'm most vibing with. Sometimes I also just randomly write more of something because someone's interested in it and as a result told me something that gave me the itch to work on it or because somebody I know is bummed out or having a tough day/week and I know they like a specific WIP, or I'll take votes via poll or things like that; it kinda just depends? Also sometimes I will ask weird questions like "hey spin this wheel and tell me what random quote you got" and will write based off the responses people, well, get, haha. Lately I've been picking one WIP to dedicate a specific amount of time to and posting daily in it during that time; right now we're doing a month of "think pink" 'cuz I was feeling it and also I knew people would appreciate seeing more of it; next month, who knows! Maybe four fics!! Maybe no fics!! It'll be a surprise to us all, especially me, hahaha.

So yeah I am very, very ADHD, if that was in any way at all subtle, lol.