#and for the other mashup prompts i did

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

May I ask for 18.Circus AU + 56.Awful First Meeting for the trope mash-up? Sounds fun

18. Circus AU + 56. Awful First Meeting — Boyf Riends (as specified in a follow-up ask <3)

The circus is holding auditions since a slot has opened up in the aerial act after a falling out with a now ex-employee. (Idk how the audition process actually goes when someone needs to be replaced so I'm making something up for the sake of this summary djdhedj)

Brooke, a current aerial performer is paired up with Michael for his audition, which consists of the ringleader assigning them various tricks to do to see how well Michael can perform them. He does everything as he's instructed and even Brooke is impressed by his reflexes, noting how many times she'd been dropped to the safety net by previous auditioners. Michael has proven himself a great performer and easy to form a trusting bond with, so he's added to the roster.

Michael later arrives at his first real rehearsal for the trapeze and prepares for more practice with Brooke when he sees her on the platform on the other side of the ring. He knows she's not the only other aerial performer of course, but figures he'll meet the others soon enough.

'Soon enough' happens a lot sooner than he anticipates.

He's pretty sure someone was supposed to communicate to him that the first person he'd be catching out of the air wouldn't be Brooke, but a beautiful stranger with the bluest eyes he's ever seen and enough freckles to fill the night sky.

Michael does technically catch the mystery man, but his hands slip and his impromptu partner falls to the net below. Lingering surprise causes Michael's legs to slip off of his bar and for him to fall as well. The surprise performer rolls out of the way quick enough that Michael doesn't land on him, but the bounce from Michael's impact ends with some uncomfortable collision anyway.

Brooke calls out to check if the stranger - Jeremy - is ok, wherein he shoves himself off of Michael and insists that they just carry on without looking at him for too long. But when he gets back on solid ground, he can't walk without limping and it's quickly discovered that he twisted his ankle weird in the crash landing.

Michael is obviously mortified and starts apologizing profusely, offering to help Jeremy in any way he can. Jeremy's reaction is hard to read through the wince and the seeming indifference, but Michael is pretty sure he hates him and will never trust him for the act again.

The reality is that Jeremy's brain hasn't exactly caught up to the situation and all he can really pay attention to is how gorgeous the new hire is??? Like yeah he's annoyed that the move was flubbed so bad, but any complaining he was about to do is erased from his head when Michael scoops him up and takes him to get the injury taken care of.

What follows is a lot of Michael insisting on helping Jeremy during recovery, Jeremy having no clue how to respond to it most of the time, resulting in Michael assuming he's ruined any chance they have at getting closer, and Brooke basically needing to watch everything go down. Sometime after Jeremy's recovered you better believe we get Rewrite the Stars-coded courting and possibly even some conflict concerning the 'falling out' with the employee Michael had replaced.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX

again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.

(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)

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“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.

“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.” 

“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”

“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.” 

Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.)  Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch. 

Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out. 

Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching. 

His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—

“We could just like, get married.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would.  And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.

“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?” 

“But it’s not a no.”

Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.

Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out. 

“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.

And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation. 

What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.

He isn’t sure.

But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.  

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(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)

[spiceseal]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚

October 3. Prompt: Handjob Modern Au!Sanji x Gender Neutral!Reader

Pronouns: You/yours

Credit for the Prompt. Kinktober 2024 @absurdthirst Ivy's Mashup List 2024 Word Count: 1738 Includes: Modern Au/ College Au/ Domestic Au?? Sanji is not a virgin but It's his first real relationship so the reader makes him nervous. Kissing and touching. handjob,, Sanji is flustered and a Dominant Reader. They live together. Reader takes a break from mid-term studying to take care of him. food was mentioned briefly but not much. some cursing and begging. Sanji is a little desperate. One pet name (babe), I think. They do mess around in the kitchen,, I know he would never but its okayyyy. Notes: AAAHHH my first One Piece fic,, I did my best,, SORRY ITS SO LONG!!! no beta!!! I feel like this is messy but I'm getting back into the swing of fanfics again

Sanji’s knuckle wrapped on the door to your shared room. He still couldn’t believe you two actually shared a space together. It made his heart race a bit each time if he thought about it too much. Really, if he thought about you too, he was wayyyy too excited. Sanji had never had a relationship long-term relationship. Dating you made him nervous. Sure, he had sexual experiences. But dating you seriously made him feel like he was inexperienced in every department. The hold you have over that man made him melt.

“It’s unlocked,” Your voice called out from inside the room. You sounded busy but not dismissive. Sanji turned the handle before pushing the door open. Sanji’s eyes landed on your back. He glanced and saw you were working on your laptop. He knew midterms were next week for you. But he couldn’t help but want your attention. He admired the way the lamp on the desk illuminated your skin. Sanji swallowed his jitters and put on his calm and suave personality…. or at least he tried to.

“You need a break? I’m happy to make something to eat.” Sanji offered as he came up behind you. His hands rested on your shoulders. He felt the way your body was so tense from being hunched over your desk and laptop. A deep sigh, your shoulders slouched. 

“Yeah, but I can go with you. It’s been a while since I stretched.” You said tiredly. Sanji stepped back to give you space while you stood up and stretched with a yawn. As your yawn caused you to tear up, Sanji’s eyes trailed down your figure as you stretched. The lower half of your shirt slid up and exposed a bit of your midriff. Sanji cleared his throat and tried to not stare blatantly despite being your boyfriend. He always liked stare but he made the effort to be more respectful since you two lived together. Not that you minded his staring anyway. 

Your arms dropped after the stretch. Sanji let you go ahead of him. In passing, your hand grazed against his as the two of you walked towards the kitchen. Sanji kept glancing at you as you walked. The short but soft touch in passing. The way you walked, the way your hair moved as you did. The way your hips moved slightly from side to side as you walked. Sanji felt a heat creep up his back. 

‘No! No! Calm down. Now is not the time to act desperate.’ Sanji thought to himself and gave his head a little shake as if that would make his thoughts go away. He quickly stepped around you to make it into the kitchen before. He rolled his sleeves as he glanced back at you. 

“What did you want to eat, Y/N? I’ll make you anything you’d like.” Sanji grinned softly at you while washing his hands.

With a small tired yawn, you walked over to the fridge. While opening you, your sight stayed on Sanji. Poor baby, you could practically see the nervousness and anticipation in his body language. You suppressed a chuckle in amusement at the subtle expression of Sanji’s eagerness.  You tilted your head to look into the fridge. There were some leftovers and other things in there.

Sanji stared at you and his eyes stayed on your pursed lips. A habit you had when you were thinking or indecisive. It always felt like a taunt for him to kiss you. Of course, he knew it wasn’t. But if he wasn’t so damn nervous around you, he would’ve taken the chance to even give you a small peck on the lips. Sanji wanted to see if you were as cute and flustered as he imagined. If only he dared to do so. Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“Don’t do anything too crazy. I can finish the rest of my Chinese takeout.” Sanji wanted to cook for you but if you wanted to eat leftovers from yesterday, he wouldn’t deny you. Sanji nodded and moved closer to grab the takeout containers from the fridge. When he stepped and leaned closer to you, you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. 

“A-ah.” Sanji widened his eyes a bit and all his calm washed away. His cheeks reddened a bit before bit his bottom lip to not burst out smiling. “Don’t tease me like that, Y/N” Sanji grabbed the containers and set them on the counter. But his mind had started to start spiral. 

‘Would it be selfish to ask for another kiss?’

Sanji thought to himself as he tried to not glance back at you. His ears caught the sound of the fridge closing and your small laugh. Damn it, you read him like an open book. His hands were a little shaky as his nerves caught up to him. His breath hitched a bit as your hands snaked around his torso from behind. Your warm lips pressed against the back of his neck. Sanji’s face was starting to get flushed. “Y/N?” 

You spoke softly near his ear. “I guess I’ve been neglecting you this week cause of midterms, huh?” Your hand switched from his torso to be over his hand. You guided his hand to set the food back on the countertop. Sanji glanced back at you before turning around to you. You had him cornered against the counter. Sanji’s eyes stared at your face before looking away. His hand hesitated to rest on your hip. The way his face was red from his blushing. It looked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“Do you need a breather, San-“ “No.” 

Sanji answered quickly, probably faster than he would have wanted but he didn’t want to lose your attention or the heat of the moment. You chuckled a bit before nodding reassuringly. You leaned in and kissed him in an attempt to ease him out of his nervousness. But you were met with a kiss that felt needy on his part. 

There the two of you were, in your kitchen, making out. Sanji’s hand gradually gripped at your hip tight and then loosely before tightening again. He was profusely blushing and his breathing got more labored before he pulled away reluctantly. With a short pant, Sanji grunted a bit. His lips opened to speak before he closed them, his gaze lowered as if he was embarrassed. You raised a brow before glancing where his gaze fell. Your eyes landed on the tent in his pants. It was endearing how fast he got turned on from being somewhat intimate with you. It always made him feel insecure but you loved it. You loved that his body reacted you to openly. It just showed his attraction to you and in turn, it made you want him more. 

“No worries, Sanji,” You said softly before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. His jeans slightly lowered and you didnt hesitate to slip your hand beneath the waistband of his brief. Sanji furrowed his brows and his breathing hitched as your hand touched him. 

“F-fuck,” Sanji stuttered out. His hips jutted towards your hand. Sanji’s hands moved a bit frantic to lower his briefs to his mid-thigh. It was embarrassing to be standing in the kitchen. But the way your hand wrapped around his length and stroked him off made him want to melt into a puddle. Sanji panted as he felt hotter from how close you were to him. His heart was pounding but he loved the way you touched him. Your index finger rubbed his tip, rubbing in the precum on himself. You hummed in satisfaction when Sanji moaned shakily by your ear. He leaned his head down against your shoulder, his hips weakly thrusting against your hand and hand gripping at your shirt. His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes had a hazy look to them, clouded by his pleasure and his cock was throbbing with need. 

You listened to the sounds of his heavy breathing and small whimpers. Your name was being mumbled out and moaned like a endless prayer from his lips. Your eyes switched between watching Sanji’s needy expression and down at how desperately he was trying to fuck your hand. You were almost tempted to drop to your knees and let him fuck your mouth instead but the way he was holding onto you and leaning against you for support made you stay still. His head against your shoulder, blond hair messily tossled against your shirt, his flustered sounds were music to your ears. You could feel your own arousal building up as he completely let himself go. 

“Y-Y/n. Fuck, oh god,, P-please... Let me cum. I wanna cum for you.” Sanji begged you breathlessly. Sanji opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at you. His lips stated parted as he leaned even closer. You nipped at his bottom lips before nodding at him. You kissed him once again. This time, you slipped your tongue into it. He breathed in sharply and kissed you back desperately as if you ever the very oxygen he breathed. Your hand gave him a small light squeeze around his member before you started pumping your hand faster with no warning beforehand. His hips jerked a bit and his back arched. Each moan you drew him was so much hotter than the last. He started to cum, Sanji urgently grabbed your hand to hold it still while he (pathetically) humped your hand. His cum smeared into your palm and between your fingers. You watched him as he came to a halt. His dick was twitching and dripping his mess onto the floor. Sanji panted heavily and he rested his forehead against your shoulder again. 

“...I’m not gonna clean that for you, babe. Sorry.” You said to him as you used your free hand to rub his back. Sanji laughed breathlessly before nodding, He kissed the side of your neck and hummed in acknowledgement. He felt embarrassed to have made mess of your hand and the kitchen floor. But that’s okay. Sanji looked at you shly and he mumbled, “No worries, but uh… Can I make you cum now before you go back to studying? 

You saw that hopeful but shy smile on his face. You chuckled and forgot about wanting to eat something and your study guide could wait a little longer. 

[laswells-ashtray]

Okay, so we have Young Price already, but let’s to a mashup: Sergeant dragon hybrid Price with human MacMillan!

I can imagine the things this man has to go through on a daily with Johnathan being the only hybrid on base ALONG with being his youngest sergeant.

Imagine John is upset with Mac over something petty and flies to the roof to pout until Mac talks him down.

I could also imagine other military bases being after John to use him for their own gain and Mac protects that boy with his life. It even gets to the point where they’ve got a meeting with the board to discuss John’s place on Mac’s team going forward. Not to mention that the sergeant has to wear a tight muzzle and padded gloves since he’s seen as a ‘threat’, which pisses Mac off to a whole other level.

On a lighter note, some funny things about dragon hybrid Price is that when he’s upset about something, he’ll blow smoke from his nose or beat his tail on the floor to try and annoy Mac. Something else is that when he was playing around with a rookie he got too rough and accidentally hurt the man with his claws, prompting his captain to trim them.

Bad idea.

Trying to trim John’s nails is like trying to get a cat into the bath. A mess. He ends up succeeding after a few threats and candy sticks and now John is lounging in his office doing a word search and eating his well earned candy like a kid.

One thing MacMillan realises pretty quickly is that other people don't like John for the same reasons he does. He likes John because John is an asshole who disrespects authority while still being one of the best soldiers he's ever seen. Unlike half of the other blokes he works with, John doesn't try to kiss his arse and sook up to him. John has a fierce personality and no off button.

He doesn't see John as a dragon hybrid who's value lies in his use. He sees John as an asshole who steals his fags and perhaps has wings.

When another Captain asks him about loaning John out for a few missions, he stares back at them blankly before he realises why they're asking.

"No, but you can take Kerr or Wallace."

"They don't exactly have the... capabilities I'm looking for."

"Shame."

He isn't letting people treat John like a weapon, that's for sure.

When they force John into the muzzle he wants to kick off, wants to call everyone involved a cunt but he doesn't. He stands silently, listens to them discuss the benefits of allowing them to pass John around different teams as needed and keeps his hand on the back of John's head. If he loosens the muzzle while no one is looking then that's on him.

Despite how many of them try to go over his head, they don't get John. They don't get to pass him around like he's a threat instead of a sergeant. Because MacMillan tells them privately that if they so much as attempt it then he'll put a bullet through Sergeant Price's kneecap and then no one will get to work with him. John doesn't know and if he did, maybe he'd hate him but Mac knows it's for the greater good inevitably. And maybe he's selfish. But no one else is getting his sergeant.

The incident with the nails that happens is a poor thing, MacMillan feels bad for all parties involved because John might not have intentionally scratched the poor rookie but he can also see the boy's pinkie bone.

He's the one who approaches John about the idea of trimming his nails, only after looking into it and making sure it isn't some cardinal sin in the dragon hybrid community. They probably should have long before now but he has a habit of letting John away with things he shouldn't. Besides, John has been talking to that new CIA girl and she appears to be decent impulse control for him. God bless the poor fuckers who started spreading the rumours that they're involved, MacMillan likes Kate, he does. He also likes that she tries to be discreet when checking out that soldier of his with the brown hair and the tattoo of scissors on her arm. So, he's been letting John away with more recently because at least he's been behaving with his new friend.

He is, of course, the only one that John will allow close enough to trim his nails. Doesn't mean he won't be a dick about it though.

"Stop twitching."

"Stop clipping my claws."

"I swear, you're like a nippy wee wain. Right, five-gallon jug and a three-gallon jug, how are you getting four bloody gallons?"

"They did this in Die Hard 3. Fill the three and pour it into the fi- Oi, quit it."

"See? Wasn't so bad now, was it? If I give you a mint crumble will you et me do the next one?"

"... Give me two."

[rowena-rain]

Looking for some simple one-shot tomarry Bottom!Tom ideas plz 🙏 Tag your friends and make them give me some too ;)

Simple tomarry?? That’s a big ask :). But I shall try. Here are some random one-shot ideas organized by broader context. If anyone is interested in potentially writing any… let me know ❤️.

Time-Travelling!Harry convinces Professor Merrythought to retire a few years early and  becomes the new DADA professor to “keep a better eye” than Dumbledore did on Tom. Tom is obsessed with his new professor (obviously). (Except for the first one, these could also work as a same-age, Harry and Tom go to Hogwarts together, either time-travel or timeline-mashup.)

After a string of increasingly outlandish bad behavior by Tom, Harry is finally forced to give Tom detention even though he’s pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose to get him alone. Harry, honorable human that he is, tries very hard to think of a detention assignment that Tom can’t just turn into another ploy to seduce him. Tom takes that as a challenge.

Tom is the only Slytherin to choose to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas. Harry, who doesn’t have family here either, feels bad. Tom feels an opportunity.

Harry catches Tom going into the second floor girl’s room in his fifth year and panics that he is about to find the Chamber. He makes a desperate attempt to distract him. It backfires. Optionally, it ends up with Tom bent over the sink, watching Harry pull his hair while fucking him in the mirror.

TWO Harrys from alternate timelines show up. One wants to raise/reform/guide Tom into a better version of himself. The other wants to kill him before he becomes Voldemort. Tom wants both of them.

Time-Travelling! Or Timeline-mashup!Harry and Borgin & Burkes-employee!Tom

Auror!Harry is undercover investigating the sale of illegal magical artifacts at Borgin & Burkes (or Time-traveller!Harry is just snooping on Tom). Either way, Tom knows this cute new guy is up to something. Fortunately, he knows how to be just bad enough to keep Harry’s attention focused on him without landing himself in Azkaban.

Time-travelling!Harry gets the locket and the cup from Hepzibah Smith to prevent Tom from getting them. Tom finds out. Now, he has a new, much prettier target to swindle. 

Tom is a con-man posing as a very expensive whore (either in place of or in addition to working at Borgin & Burkes). He’s not interested in degrading himself for these pathetic old losers, but he likes their cash and getting access to their collections of valuable magical artifacts. Auror!Harry poses as a client to find out why so many wealthy people seem to have had their memories altered lately. Tom is intrigued. He could maybe make an exception for this one. Well, he’ll still probably rob him, of course, but he might not have to modify his memory. 

Depressed Post-war!Harry raises reincarnated!Tom

Harry is left feeling empty and incomplete ever since Voldemort died. It’s a few years after the war, but he still can’t shake the feeling that something important is missing. Ginny thinks the solution is a baby. Ironically, Death agrees. Well, Harry is pretty sure that was just a dream where Death came and told Harry he really was Death’s Master and then gave him a strange offer to help. If he’s absolutely terrified a few weeks later when Ginny announces she’s finally pregnant after years of trying, that’s just… normal nerves from being a first-time father, right? (Lol, okay, that’s not really tomarry I guess since Tom isn’t even born yet. Either that or it’s definitely not just a one-shot ahhaa)

Okay, I seem to have gotten away from the “simple” assignment, so I’m going to stop now 😅. Also, a couple of them are calling to me. And I already said I wasn't going to start anything new until I finish the first arc of heir de la mort. Sighhh

Tagging @sweetalison007-blog because they always have a ton of tomarry prompts and @cindle-writes because I know they have a lot of bottom!Tom ideas in particular!

[bodybeyondstories]

Story prompt: a guy asks his ex to meet him to talk about the end of their relationship (the person who asked the date was cheated on by him and wants revenge), before asking for the meeting he cast a curse on him, every time he says the word "ego" his dick and balls will swell, the goal is to make him become a human parade balloon. ;)

If I were a better writer, I would've worked in a runaway growth scene triggered by someone blasting a mashup of Ego (Beyoncé) and Alter Ego (Doechii). Alas!

And PSA: Please try and talk things through with your significant other before resorting to chaos magic. You will be held responsible by municipal services.

1010 words

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"Look, I know endless apologizing and groveling won't make things right, but I'm here to listen and put aside my ego-ooof..."

"Hm? Your what?"

"Sorry, I'm just really...um...uncomfortable, in these--"

"I'd be uncomfortable too, trying to set aside an ego that big."

"I--aughhh--meant these pants. They're really--don't give me that look."

"Oh don't worry, everyone in the park has seen how great your legs are. You got your daily ego massage."

"That's not fair. What's that supposed to...to...mean...sorry is it hotter out here? It's hotter, right? I feel very..."

"Stuffy?"

"Stuffed. Look, I'm really trying to be present, but I have a little bit of a...situation developing."

"Yet another 'situation,' of course. My mistake to take up a whole five minutes of your time. I thought you were putting down the ego--"

"Ego, ego ego! Yes, I am, I just mean--AUGHHH!"

"Shit, are you okay?! What's...what's that sound."

"I think it's my zipper."

"Your...oh wow, that's a lot to stuff."

"It won't...stop...growing. I don't know what's going on."

"A lot more..."

"I feel like my pants are about to bur--wait, what?"

"...A lot more than I expected..."

"You've got to be kidding me. You did this didn't you?"

"It--it was just supposed to be a small hex."

"This doesn't look very small."

"I mean it was just supposed to manifest by a certain percentage when activated by the trigger word. So whenever someone says--"

"Don't."

"--ego."

"Fuck! There goes the zipper. Was the goal to get me in trouble for public indecency? My briefs don't have much longer, and they're already soaked through. Was that also part of the curse?"

"Not even a full curse! Just a hex. A small hex. I wanted to teach you a lesson and make your most prized possession reflect your ego."

"Fuck, that was a big one. These pants are done for, they're in tatters."

"You know I'm still learning spell craft. I just maybe got the order of operations wrong."

"Yeah, maybe. Jesus, this thing's huge. It's not even fully hard and it's pulling my underwear apart. Can you please pause whatever this is? I can't even wear normal clothes at this point."

"Ok, um, maybe I can fix this. I just updated my spellbook app, there should be a straightforward reversal incantation. What's the opposite of ego? Oh shit."

"Ughhhh. It's...it's so big...it's not stopping."

"Are you actually getting hard?"

"I can't help it. It feels so good. It reaches up to my lips, that's so hot. I wonder what I taste like."

"You actually found a way to flip this in your favor."

"I'm already a freak, thanks to you. Just let me enjoy this."

"It's...just...massive..."

"Maybe the biggest cock ever. And it's all mine."

"A little egotistical, don't you think?"

"Wait, please, stop!"

"Whoa, it's past your head now."

"I noticed. It's not...it's not stopping. Why is it not stopping?"

"I don't know! I didn't say ego--"

"Fuck, that was the biggest spurt yet. My dick is about to rival my entire body, we have to hide somewhere until I can get this down."

"I don't think we're going anywhere. Look at your balls."

"Why? I can't even see them. Help me up--oof!"

"Careful, careful, they're weighing you down. They're already the size of beanbag chairs."

"Please, babe, you have to reverse this. I don't think it's stopping!"

"Okay, okay, I'm checking the app and...well there may be not be an easy fix."

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You're always doing reckless shit like this. Always half assing, not thinking anything through."

"Oh so now it's about me?"

"Yes, per usual, you have successfully managed to make it about you. Congratulations, yet again."

"God, you were always so insufferable, what was I ever thinking falling in love with a massive, throbbing--"

"Do not say it--"

"Ego!"

"Oof, I'm pinned to the ground. This thing's taller than me. This is messy even by your standards. I can feel it pulsing, it feels so good, so full."

"Messy?! I think it was pretty messy to hook up with your boyfriend's coworker at the holiday party!"

"Look, please, it was just the one time, there was the mistletoe over the doorway and we were being cute--"

"You should see how cute he is now. I don't think he'll be able to fit those cheeks through a typical doorway ever again. Oh, did that turn you on? You'll drown in your own precum, it's like a broken faucet up there. Maybe your boy toy around the corner can help clean up?"

"Please, that was just a fling, I made a mistake, I thought we already worked through that."

"Or the hunk from the moving company can help ferry you around with those balls."

"C'mon, were we even exclusive at that point?"

"Actually, they might soon be bigger than his truck. Looks like you're really enjoying this, huh? I can almost hear the eruption building."

"I, I, I can't help it. It's...too much...my dick is a monstrosity, just like my actions, I think you've made your point. C'mon, it's the size of a flagpole."

"Not quite, but almost! Maybe we can rush things a bit since you keep trying to rush closure. Maybe the whole world should see the manifestation of your egocentric--"

'Wait, no!"

"Egotistical,"

"Can we please just talk about this--"

"Ego--um--ist behavior!"

"Ooo I can feel it stretching, my balls are churning they're so full. It's...it's too much, I can't think, I'm...I'm losing control."

"Now you know how it feels. Your cockhead can probably be seen across half the city, and these balls are the size of SUVs. You want to be community dick, go ahead and flood the neighborhood with jizz."

"Can't, can't move. Gonna...cum..."

"I can already hear sirens a few blocks away. And looks like some news trucks beat them to it. We're gonna put on a show. So everyone can see how big that ego really is."

[epilogue-and-prologue]

For the AU-gust Mashup:

Fili x Reader + Fairytale + “Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

No pressure at all! Thank you in advance for considering the request! <3

Words

Fandom: Lord of The Rings - The Hobbit Ship/Pairing: Fili x Reader Trope: Fairy Tale - Curse Note: Prompt is in the ask. Thanks @sotwk I don't have the occasion to write for Fili near enough. SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE. Warnings: Curse, losing your voice, not being able to communicate, near death experience. Word count: 1 954 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

The summer had barely begun, when you met him. At first, you thought he was an illusion. A trick of your mind. Clear eyes, blonde hair, he’d carried himself just like you thought he would. The Crowned Prince, they called him. He had introduced himself as Fili. Nothing more. He came and went to your stand on the market place. Over the course of a few months, he had become a vital presence in your life. Just as you did in his.

To your agony, none of you would speak of it aloud. In your mind only, could he hold you, could he be with you. The status was one thing. The other was how people called you: the witch. Fili would never refer to you in such a way. He once called you a “soft-spirited soul who could cure any wound”. It had made your heart beat so fast you thought he would surely see the beats on your skin. But, the herbs you used and the unguents? It was common knowledge, yet it was not as widely used as it should have been. It was considered a women’s trade first and then was replaced completely by modern medicine. They did not keep your stall empty though. Even, on occasions, some people would come to you for more than just healing. For a kind ear and a cup of ale. That was why it did not surprise you when the tall and grand man came, in his white robes and equally beautiful staff. He did not say his name but you would remember his face forever. An intricate affair of wrinkles and bones showing under his skin. It was as if he’d been taunt over an overused canvas. You had seen worse ugliness, worse gnarly members, deformed by arthritis or unfair accidents. It was nothing new and you thought nothing of it.

“What may I help you with tonight, traveller?”

His robe was stained on the hems, earth and what you assumed was crusted mud over it. He did not move, only following your movements across the room with intent. His lips seemed to be moving, but no sound came out of them. Uneasy, you sat down and offered a cup of warm tea, just brewed. He stayed motionless.

“You look just like her, you know? — What?”

The jolt almost made you knock over your tea. The last time someone compared you to anyone else was when your grandmother was alive. Could he have known her? Or was he toying with you?

“You like just like your grandmother…” He stepped into your space, closing in on you. A chill ran down your spine. He had known her then. “The same eyes, the same face, those same treacherous lips…” He grabbed onto your chin, a harsh grip forcing you into meeting his eyes. You were so scared you did not dare move a muscle. “And you will pay for her lies and her filthy words.”

He released you, your body meeting with the floor in a violent attempt at getting away from him. His staff pointed at you, he mumbled incoherent words. Then, some all too coherent ones.

“Blood of the blood of my enemy, I hereby punish you. For your grandmother broke my heart with her words and it will break yours too! You will remain speechless, until someone confesses their love for you. Only if they do and you love them in return, the curse shall be lifted. A day and a night you shall have before the words strangle you. Hear my wrath, blood of the blood and know your time to be shortened.”

A maniacal laugh echoed through the room, white and grey fog sneaking through the door. You raised your head and he was gone, heaps of smoke the only sign he was there at all.

The next morning, you were mute.

———— It had taken a heavy toll on you. People could not understand why from one day to the next, your voice had gone out. The weather could not explain it. You couldn’t any more either.

Of course, Fili chose that day to show up. He did not exactly chose, for it was the first time in weeks he had managed to have some free time. Naturally, he arranged to come and see you.

“Hello.”

The smile you offered was…odd. Uneasy. He wondered what he could have done to deserve this thin lipped, excuse of a smile. You were always so quick to smile brightly, even in the early hours of the morning, eyes stinging with the last remnants of sleep.

“Are you not going to say it back?”

He rose an eyebrow, more out of curiosity than animosity. You tried. You really, really tried to tell him. But the clients were growing impatient and the line was growing thick behind him. Upon seeing you interact with them, gestures and half guessed prices, Fili realised you were not choosing not to answer. You could not. In an impulse, he jumped over the stand and joined you behind.

“Hello, good sir, what might we do for you today?”

The dandy man blinked once. Twice. His eyes kept going from you to Fili before choosing to ignore the fact that the future heir to the kingdom was now selling herbs and creams on the market. You could not stop him even if you had wanted to. Before you could try to intervene, he had already taken it upon himself to help you. He pushed you back and sat you down on your chariot. He did not stop, not for one minute. The whole morning he served and listened sometimes turning to you for confirmation. You intervened once or twice, and that was that. How long did he observe you to know almost as much as you did? From where you were you saw him leave his heavy pelted coat, warmed up by the activity. His shoulder blades barely hidden behind a linen shirt, became a good distraction to the feeling of helplessness within. Your fingers twitched once or twice, wanting nothing more than to reach out for him. You knew you couldn’t. But one can always dream. Right? Suddenly in lack of clients, he turned to you, chest rising rapidly. A hint of hair peeked from under his collarbones and you had a hard time focusing on his words.

“Now. How did you lose your voice?”

A real worry started to gain his face even as he smirked. He could not fool you anymore. His eyes started studying you, as if your face could tell him what had happened.

“Did you catch a cold?”

You shook your head and sighed. This was going to be impossible to explain. Suddenly, you sprung to your feet grabbing his hand. If he had been in his right mind, he would have stuttered and crumbled internally at that. Luckily he wasn’t and merely blushed when you did. Your hands were showing him something.

“Something to write?”

Excitedly, you nodded. He pulled a piece of paper and a charcoal out of his pocket and handed them to you. In quick words, you explained the situation to him. As he read on, his heart kept sinking. He knew his attachment to be love. Fili had known for quite some time. Regardless, if you did not feel the same then it was a doomed story. The deadline was growing closer as each moment passed and he was losing his mind. He kept pacing trying to find another way out of it. There was none. Even if he had gone to Gandalf - the sorcerer of the Kingdom - it would be too late before he’d come up with a solution. His only hope was to tell you how he felt. In the unlikely odds, that maybe, you would not reject him. If not, he’d make your last day a feast and a paradise. The taste of grief melted in his mouth. He swallowed it soon. In a whisper and an extended hand, he called you to him. When you took his hand, shaking and hesitant, his heartbeat accelerated.

If only he knew. His face told you everything. You could see his resolution disappear with every passing moment. He had no solution. So, he did not love you in the end and the dreams you had about living together were just dreams. You almost cried when he pulled you in, embracing you in his arms, his warmth. He could not look at you and you could not blame him for it.

“It’s time I told you…”

You held your breath, a deep sigh shaking him. He took your face in his hands, gentle and tender.

“I am afraid that all those months I have deceived you.”

Your heart sank again and as you struggled in his hold, he stopped you.

“Let me finish, please.”

You nodded, tearful sobs already on the edge of your lips.

“I have not been honest. From the very first time we met, I knew. I knew I would come to love you. I did not stop it. I knew our stations would not match. It didn’t bother me. It still doesn’t. I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I need you to hear this…”

Tears ran down your cheeks. He had to be lying. He had to be. How could he say such lies when you were in this deadly situation? How could he toy with you like this. Again, you struggled against his hold and he gripped your shoulders. Through the cloths his heat was both a fast poison and a powerful balm.

“Just look at me. Forget everything else. Forget where we are. Just listen to me.”

You did. You looked at him and his sea-coloured eyes. A deep feeling of content took root inside of you. Maybe if you were to die by tomorrow, enjoying him was not the worst thing you could be doing right now. So you did as he said and focused on his voice, his eyes, his neatly braided beard. Your fingertips combed gently through it and it made him stutter for a moment.

“I love… No. I adore you. You will not die today, I will not allow it. Never will I allow it. You cannot leave me like this. There were shadows in me before, now there’s only your light. Yours and no one else. How you did it, I will never know but I love you. I love you, and I will always love you until the end of time… —I love you too.”

Your voice croaked as if it had been unused for years. It startled both of you. An immense joy washed over you and you jumped into his arms, breathing him in, basking in his warmth. He held on to you so tight, it was sure to leave marks. The market around you was unchanged but you were. He looked at you dead in the eye, a mere centimetres from your face.

“Never, ever, do that again. —No promises.”

You laughed and squealed when he mumbled about “promises” and “worried sick” and you being the death of him one day. Quickly, in between two rants you pulled him to you and kissed him. He continued on for a good moment before he realised what had happened. He blushed furiously, the corner of his lips lifting. Soon, your lips found his, gently. He wanted to enjoy that kiss and all the others coming afterwards.

People around you, were sure to have something to talk about the next day.

On the other hand, you would choose to be nowhere else but right there in his arms.

All their words be damned.

[danmei-action]

Danmei Gotcha for Gaza: Day 3 Update!

Attention danmei fans! Our fundraiser (link) has reached $470 USD for Palestine as of 8/3/2024 - thank you so much to all the prompters ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Notice: We've seen several donations that cover much more than the number of prompts requested! While this is great for our fundraisers, prompters can also use the extra money to request two types of "free" prompts; you can either leave "creator's choice" prompts where the creators are free to make whatever they like (specifying a fandom is optional), or donate prompts for fans who are unable to donate at the moment.

For example, if you want to make a $20 USD donation but only want to request a single SFW prompt for $5 USD, you can specify that you want to donate the other $15 as prompts for the rest of the fandom or let 1-3 SFW contributors pick what to create. You can also consider leaving creator's choice prompts for the fandoms listed below, since they have not received any prompts yet:

Brother | Da Ge (大哥)

Pure White Devil (纯白恶魔)

Drowning Sorrows in Raging Fire (烈火浇愁)

Itinerant Doctor | Youyi (游医)

Jin Se | 锦瑟

Nan Chan (南禅)

The Submissive Emperor | Jun Wei Xia (君为下)

The Wife is First | Qi Wei Shang (妻为上)

Drink, Drank, Drunk! | (千杯)

Global Examinations | 全球高考

Copper Coins | Tong Qian Kan Shi (铜钱龛世)

I Ship My Rival X Me | (我嗑了对家x我)

More under the cut:

City of Angels | (天使之城)

Legend of Exorcism | Tianbao Fuyao Lu (天宝伏妖录)

Dinghai Fusheng Records (定海浮生录)

Seizing Dreams | Duo Meng (夺梦)

Those Years In Quest Of Honour Mine (当年万里觅封侯)

AWM: PUBG | (AWM [绝地求生])

The #1 Pretty Boy of the Immortal Path (仙道第一小白脸)

First-Class Lawyer | Yi Ji Lushi (一级律师)

Judge | Pànguān (判官)

Wildhood Friends | Zhu Mu Lang Ma (竹木狼马)

Run Wild | Sa Ye (撒野)

Qing Kuang | (轻狂)

Antidote | Jie Yao (解药)

Wait for Me after School | 放学等我

PUBG Online Romance of the Century | (PUBG世纪网恋)

I Can Do It | (我行让我来)

Glory [e-sports] | Rong Guang (荣光[电竞])

My Underachieving Seatmate Doesn’t Need Any Comforting | (学渣同桌不需要安慰)

Game Loading | (游戏��载中)

How Did You Guys Become Boyfriends While Gaming | (你們打個遊戲怎麼就交到男朋友了)

Fake Slackers | 伪装学渣

Beyond the Outline | (这题超纲了) *The Guy Inside Me

They All Say I've Met a Ghost | (他们都说我遇到了鬼)

After Marrying the Evil God | (和邪神結婚後)

After Being Forced to Marry the Evil Star General (被迫嫁给煞星将军后)

After Crossdressing and Provoking Long AoTian (女装招惹龙傲天后)

The Demon Venerable’s Wistful Desire | (魔尊他念念不忘)

After Crossing Through Ten Worlds, I Failed To Run Away | 穿越十个世界后我跑路失败了

Swallowing the Seas | Tun Hai (吞海)

Breaking Through the Clouds | Po Yun (破云)

Your Distance | Nĭ Dè Jù Lí (你的距离)

Is the Gentleman Feeling Alright? | jun you ji fou (君有疾否)

Encountering a Snake | Yu She (遇蛇)

You Boys Play Games Very Well | (你们男生打游戏好厉害哦~)

Waiting For You Online | (就等你上线了)

I’m Completely Clueless About Sockpuppet Accounts Being Unmasked [E-sports] | (被扒了马甲我一无所知[电竞])

That One Rich Fan of Mine | (我的那個有錢粉絲)

I Just Want To Be In A Relationship | (我就想谈个恋爱)

Heart has Ling Xi | (心有凌熙)

After Getting Gayified, I Swore Off Parody Mashups | (被gay后再也不敢鬼畜了)

Reborn with an Old Enemy on the Day of our Marriage | (和宿敌结婚当天一起重生了)

Transmigrated into the prince regent's beloved runaway wife | (穿成攝政王的侍愛逃妻)

After transmigrating into the book, I picked up the protagonist-shou | (穿书后我捡到了主角受)

Cold Sands | 漠上寒沙

I Know I'm About to Lose You | 我知道我快失去你了

Fanservice Paradox | 营业悖论

Fantasy Farm | Huanxiang Nongchang (不离)

The Emperor's strategy | (帝王攻略)

The Missing Piece | (貌合神离)

I'm using the interstellar live broadcast to raise cubs | (我在星际直播养崽)

Not in Vain | (不枉)

You use a gun, I use a bow (你们用枪我用弓[电竞])

I’m A Male Mom in a Nightmare Game |

I Like Your Pheromones | (我喜欢你的信息素)

Transmigrating Into The Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Childhood Friend | (穿成万人迷的炮灰竹马)

Pixiu Restaurant, No Way Out (貔貅饭馆，只进不出)

Mist [Unlimited] | 薄雾［无限］

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - seventy-eight | misc

HOW were you supposed to know that the person who edited your videos was a streamer? And one who had a lot of fans?

You’d never watched a video game stream before, you were normally busy working on some mashup or another so you thought they were a waste of time. Maybe you could watch one of y/n’s, just to see what the hullabaloo was about?

You navigated to her page and, as it turned out, she was currently streaming. You clicked on the stream, not really knowing what to expect. A prompt told you that you had to make an account if you wanted to use the chat, so you opened another window and did so.

You refreshed the stream page and now it showed that you could use the chat and had a name: NEROmusic

“Alright ladies, germs, and Other.”

You had no idea who anyone was. You looked at the grid of people on the screen, some showing their faces and others just represented as their user icons. Oh, the frame around their icon lit up green when they said something. This was… MickTheMacken talking. Okay, you were getting the hang of this.

“Am I a ‘germ’ or ‘Other’?” MorningStar asked. MorningStar sounded like San, so you figured that was him.

“You can be Miscellaneous, if you like.”

“I want to be ‘Misc’,” Jageun Gomen Goyangi said, the frame lighting up. You knew who she was now, so you knew it was y/n. It was still funny to you to think about how you were working together all this time, and yet didn’t know you were working with a - by what you saw - kind of famous streamer, all because it was never something you would ask.

“‘Misc’?” Mick asked.

“‘Misc.’” She repeated.

“I adore it. I am enraptured.”

“You’d better be. I worked for all of five seconds on it.”

“Forceful.” Mick looked into the camera flirtatiously. 

The rim around BrickTheBracken’s screen lit up. “Stop stealing my man.”

“Ummm, excuse me? I don’t need to steal a man? I already have one?”

“Mhm.” San said emphatically.

“I desire not your man!” Y/n yelled. “Make haste, wench! Say your piece.”

Mick laughed. “Are you all watching my stream?”

Ryujin lit up. “I’m sniping so hard right now.”

“We’re all cheating crazy hard.” Keeho said-- wait, that was the idol from JUPiTER you had met! Keeho was a streamer? No wait, you had seen that video thumbnail where he was laughing or something… what a small world. Absolutely tiny.

“GOOD.” Mick continued. “Anyway, for the people out there in Radio Land: welcome to our third annual… what did we call it last time?”

“I don’t remember.” Yeji said.

“‘Secret Non-Santa’?” Ryujin guessed.

“With Cat here? We’d never come up with something so obvious. It has to be obtuse.” Keeho added.

“Secret Satan.” Y/n said.

“Round Robin Russian Roulette.”

“Hell.”

Mick laughed. “ANYgay, we’re doing That Fucking Thing We Do when we all find the worst games we can possibly find, throw them into the hat,” he lifted up a tophat, “and we each pick a shitty game and play it for the rest of us to yell at.”

“And everyone watching gives us money for charity!” Yeji said quickly.

“Yes, sorry Yeji, I’m always so preoccupied with our suffering that I forget we’re also trying to make other people’s lives better.”

“You’re welcome,” Yeji said pleasantly.

“How are you picking which of us are going?” San asked.

“Bracken made a wheel.”

“Oh?”

BrickTheBracken appeared in the frame as he wheeled a small game show-style wheel into view behind Mick and presented it to the viewers like a beautiful game show lady.

“Our beautiful Bracken,” Yeji said.

“Wowwww, we’re really coming up in the world.” Y/n said.

“We’re bougie.” Keeho added.

“Mhm.”

“Okay, take your seats, start your engines, keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, because here we go!” Mick spun the wheel. “Cat!”

“Ahhhhhhhh shit.”

Everyone laughed. You laughed too.

Keeho laughed. “Couldn’t’ve happened to a worse person.”

“Keeho, I would like to be the first, to wish you a very Die.”

“Seven years of friendship and this is how she treats me?” Keeho pretended to cry.

“I’m calling your mother.”

Everyone laughed again.

“And to pick the game of our very aggressive contestant--” Mack fished around in the hat for a slip of paper “--Scary Granny! Please click link number five.”

There was a pause as - you guessed - y/n clicked the link and it opened. “...Oh god.”

Mick laughed as he read the description. “Look for evidence against granny in this dark and eeeevil game!”

“Is the game evil or is the granny?”

“I think it’s the game.”

“Before I play this, I would like to try and argue against it.” Y/n said.

“I won’t allow it, but go ahead.” Mack replied.

“I should not have to play this for two reasons: the first being that: …I’m hot. And the second being that: I hate this.”

“I’ve never seen you so I can’t account for the first one, and we all hate this but we do it for the yucks so: start the game, Cat.”

“I’ve seen her, I can vouch for her hotness,” San said.

“But we’ve never seen you either, so how do we know you know what you’re talking about?” Ryujin asked.

“Uhhhh…”

“Morn is hot,” y/n came to his defense.

“But you see how that still means nothing?”

“Circular hotness,” Ryujin said.

You chuckled.

“Keeho can solve this,” Braken started. “You’ve seen Cat, is she hot?”

Keeho’s eyes widened in the kind of shock someone’s face has when someone asks if their sibling is hot. “Um, I don’t want the ‘Keeho and Cat are dating’ rumors to start again so I’ll unfortunately have to decline.”

“You traitor!” Cat yelled. “Coward!”

You couldn’t tell if she was fake mad or actually mad. Everyone laughed, regardless.

“Cat, start the game,” Mick commanded.

She sighed loudly and the game replaced her icon on her screen. In a few seconds, hers was made the main screen so the viewers could watch.

“Oh my god,” y/n said, as the game loaded.

You hadn’t played any video games in your childhood on account of it not being allowed, but you could easily tell that the opening screen… what’s it called?

“The home screen looks like shit…” y/n devolved into rueful laughter.

Ah, yes: the home screen.

“This looks like a PS1 game threw up on itself. Do I really have to play this?”

“Yes, Cat. This is for charity. You have to do the thing.”

“Just tell me if all the games are this bad.”

“They are.”

“Fine.”

You chuckled to yourself.

She started the game and groaned. 

You may not have played a video game ever, but you’d seen ads for them before and this one looked like the most unfinished, garbage things you’d ever seen. It was ugly, and all the controls looked bigger than they needed to be.

You must steal from the old woman! was the text that came up on the screen.

“So I’m a burglar?” She asked.

The group laughed.

“Girl help, I’m knocking over an old woman.”

She started running around the level attempting to complete any of the missions the game gave her, but was having a hard time. The granny meant to chase the player got stuck in a wall, got stuck in the middle of the room for a bit, got stuck in the ceiling, and when she fell through the floor and then rapidly went flying vertically through the room a dozen times before shooting off into the stratosphere, Cat went silent.

She sighed. “God damnit.”

Goddamnit it, indeed.

“You have to make it funny, Cat,” Mick said.

She sighed and seemed to think for a moment as the old lady killed her and the level started over.

“You know those scam marriages where people get married to try and become an immigrant in another country?”

Mick laughed a little, seeming to know that this question was leading him. “Yeah.”

“Who are you really scamming if you scam marry someone to move to a place?”

“The government.” Yeji answered.

“You say that like no government has ever scammed its people, ever.”

“...That’s true.”

“I just think that the idea of a marriage being a scam because it doesn’t involve love totally negates asexual and aromantic people. You don’t need to be in romantic love to be married.”

“What about people who might be friends who want to get married for the benefits?” Ryujin chuckled.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that every straight married couple on the planet loves or even just likes each other? My parents might still be awesomely in love, but I had friends with shitty parents so I KNOW that’s not true. And just look at all of the ‘I hate my spouse’ memes that boomers share; why would they share them if they actually love their spouse?”

“Oh my god.” Keeho said.

“How are you so smart, Cat?” Bracken asked, half-joking.

“I’m just really cute and sexy and good at thinking.”

San chuckled. “So humble too.”

“Mhm…” Granny got stuck again and she restarted the level. “But back to my point, not every marriage is a loving or even a liking one and those people should just get divorced, so the whole point of a marriage - supposing to be about two people who love each other who want to stay together forever - doesn’t make sense anyway.”

The granny killed her again and the level started over. She sighed.

“What about the argument that it’s to have kids?” Keeho asked.

“What about hetero couples who can’t get pregnant? What about couples who adopt, whether they’re gay or straight? Or women and men who are past the child bearing age? Should they get divorced then?”

Mick sighed. “Cat, I said make it funny, not get on a soapbox--” 

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” San observed.

“Only about five minutes. But my brain is very big and sexy and--”

“Don’t say it.” Keeho said.

“Wrinkly.”

“Ew.”

“So it was easy.”

Mick laughed as Keeho continued to make a disgusted face. 

“How do you propose we treat marriage instead?” Mick asked, trying to find the punchline.

“A business venture. And I don’t mean that in like a right wing, small government, libertarian-because-I’ve-never-left-my-small-town-or-even-encountered-a-woman way. I mean that, pre-feudalism, most families produced some sort of good with both members of the marriage contributing to the creation of that product or products, and either one or both participated in the selling of said products: I think that we should just treat marriages as long term business ventures.”

“I’m… I feel like that makes sense? But I’m not sure?” Yeji said, a little confused.

“And we should treat kids like ponzi schemes.”

Keeho sighed. “And there’s the joke.”

You laughed loudly with the group.

“Was that WHOLE FUCKING THING, just for that joke?” He yelled.

“No, I thought of the joke right at the end.”

She cleared the level but somehow the granny killed her despite the game having gone to the ‘Level Over’ screen.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She yelled.

Everyone laughed.

The level started over, but this time, none of the buttons were anywhere to be seen.

“Um… there’s no controls.”

“What?” San asked.

“There’s no controls. I’m moving the mouse and nothing’s happening.”

“What? How?” Keeho asked.

“I have no idea… I think I’m done, guys. Oh my god I can’t even exit the game.” She laughed. “I have to close the program, hold on.”

You decided to comment in the chat.

NEROmusic: Nice job, Cat

“Hey! The person who made my intro is here! Everyone go check out NEROmusic! They make awesome mashups and they’re so so so good.”

“She’s in your chat?” San asked.

“Mhm. She just said ‘good job’. I’m not sure if she’s being sarcastic or not.”

NEROmusic: I’m being serious. That game looked like shit lol

“It was shit, NERO, thank you for commiserating.”

The group went to the next game: Ryujin had to play something called Papa Simulator and had to try to take care of children while making a pizza. Somehow, everything ended up on fire.

Your phone buzzed.

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Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵

@luvvvx • @iamthehotdemon • @hrts4hanniehae • @rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy •

[willows-adventures-in-words]

More for the 21 pilots mashup thing I work on sometimes. The other part I posted can be found here.

Whumptober prompts 26: Nightmares breakfast table | parting words regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” word count: 560

~-~-~

He felt himself waking up. Though his mind was foggy, Layne listened to the footsteps walk across the room. And the voice that accompanied them. “-is doing really well.” Layne realized he was still plugged in. “So I was thinking we should start to decide on the next one. Waving through a window is pretty popular. Could have you guys do that one.” He walked around behind him as he continued talking. “Maybe do a throw back and go for a Disney song.” It was a struggle, but Layne managed slight movement in his arm. Only to realize he was restrained. Wrist tied to the armrest of the chair he was seated in. Right. The consequences of his actions. “But I guess before we do something like that I should figure out how to get you guys to be more animated.”

Kurt was quiet but Layne could still hear his footsteps for a moment. There was silence for awhile. He didn't hear him leave. He was still in the room. Layne tried to think. How long has it been? Months? He had no idea. Too many blanks. But... He had to do something. Layne was pretty sure he was the only one lucid enough to try anything. Did he want to risk moving? To find out where their captor was? His fingers twitched. “Hm? No, you're not trying that again.” Footsteps. “Time for you to clock out.” No. No no no. The cord was pulled. No... Then the heavy darkness fell over him.

-~-

Layne jerked awake. Shoving the blankets off, he nearly fell out of bed in his hurry to get up. He was breathing hard. Panicked. Eyes darting around the room as his hand went to his neck. Then his eyes shot over to the window. Taking his hand from his neck he pulled the curtain back. It took a minute before it clicked. Home. He was home.

He stepped back, the curtain falling closed, leg bumping against the bed-frame, and slumped down on the edge of the bed. His hand found its way back to his neck, covering the electrical plug. “Layne?” came the tired voice of his wife. He heard her, but he wasn't listening; his mind someplace else entirely. His heart pounding. It was so vivid. Felt like he was still there. Still... “Layne.” He let out a shaky breath and lifted his head slightly as Cyndi stepped over. She knelt down in front of him. His eyes followed her. He tried to focus. Drag himself back to the present. “You're okay.” She lifted her left hand and gently rested it over the one he held to his neck. “You're safe. You're safe and home.” She removed her hand and rested it on his cheek. “You're home, Layne.”

After releasing a shuddered breath, he leaned lightly against her palm and whispered, “I'm home.”

“Yes you are.” Layne could hear she was near tears. They lingered for just a moment longer before she got up and held him. He wrapped his arms around her. They both needed this. He's only been back home for a handful of hours. Layne closed his eyes and just focused on the sound of Cyndi's heartbeat. Her breathing. And soon her sniffling as she quietly cried in his hair.

[murphy-kitt]

Yoooo! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

Thank you to @darthfrodophantom for also tagging me in another post! :)

I have 69 (nice) works on AO3 so there was quite a lot to go through.

1. red in tooth and claw (that’s your fatal flaw)

Summary: Everyone finds out Wes was right in the worst way possible.

Reason: This was the first fic I wrote in phicphight ‘22, my first year of participating for the event. I remember loving writing this in the moment and beginning to flesh out Wes’ character in my style. It was the first time he had a main POV in my fics. It definitely took me out my comfort zone as I had to take Wes, someone who wants his discoveries to be known, and reduce him to this subdued bystander facing the realisation that although he did want to reveal Danny, he never thought it through or considered the impacts.

2. lie like a tombstone (yet secrets will bloom)

Summary: Valerie finds a body in the park thanks to some ghostly flowers, and she never would’ve guessed that it belonged to Phantom. Only, the context around his death sounds.. concerning. Because he died alone. And no one ever reported him missing. But that just barely scratches the surface of Phantom’s secrets.

Reason: This fic is so self indulgent it’s actually ridiculous. 35k+ (and ongoing) words of a corpse au and no one knows au mashup with me trying to keep the mystery up as long as possible. I’ve been working on it for two years now, it’s seen me through college, and who knows how long forever more. I appreciate this fic a lot, because it’s a massive motivator for me to keep writing and reminds me that I am capable of longfics outside of one-shots. The Val and Wes team up was unexpected when it began but honestly one of my fav combinations of characters to write. Of course it’s also a big favourite because it’s a corpse au ❤️🤌.

3. Mask

Summary: Danny never really took a minute to consider what he looked like in Phantom form. He didn’t need to, not really. It wasn’t as if he was scared of what was under the mask. No, not at all.

Reason: another self indulgent fic. It was Ectober 2021 and I saw this prompt and went “yup it’s danno has a HAZMAT hood time”. I loved writing the reveal scene in this the most, when the Fentons and Val realise that Phantom is just this kid with no evil intent (best genre of fics imo). Also the opportunity for a sequel is prevalent—although I’m unsure if I’ll go ahead with that. I put a lot of work trying to get the build up and reveal done smoothly.

4. Forest Fires

Summary: 1967. Nine-year-old Madeleine Walker watched her older brother Daniel Walker die in a lab accident. Years on, she’s certain that Danny Phantom is the ghost of her dead brother. But she’ll never know now, having thrown away the opportunity in a fleeting moment of anger. Meanwhile, a confused Danny sets out to uncover what happened to the uncle he didn’t even know existed. Only the truth is much more than just a simple lab accident.

Reason: although only one chapter and two prequel one-shots at the minute, this AU/series is something I’m very proud of. I’ve planned a lot out for it and I can’t wait to get all the mysteries set and unravelling. Maddie’s portrayal of character I feel satisfied with considering the turmoil over her brother and having to deal with Danny’s changing behaviour. Excited to get this one going again. Also love it because I get to include my OCs 😁.

5. beyond false pretences (we search in plain sight)

Summary: Danny Fenton disappeared without a trace. Soon after, his family followed. Five years on, Sam Manson is determined to figure out why.

Reason: This was my third phicphight fic in 2022 (I seemed to have really liked my fics that event 😆) and I saw the prompt and ran with it. I particularly love writing mystery and suspense so this was very fun to do. Unfortunately it’s not finished but I like what I’ve done so far. I loved putting the easter-eggs within the fic and seeing if readers could spot them. And it was great fun to see people theorising on what they thought had happened to Danny.

I’m going to tag: @jadenoryuu @kawaiijohn @dp-marvel94 @jackdaw-sprite @cleanlenins

[wisteriagoesvroom]

85 and 8 please (for the prompt mashup) <3

ooo 8. Hospital AU and 85. Innocent physical contact

from prompt mash ups

my first foray into yuki x liam!! thank u lia for prompting!!

--------------

“How did you injure yourself again, Liam.”

“Wasn’t my fault, alright? Was reaching for a bunch of gloves on the top shelf and they all just fell on me.”

“These cardboard boxes are so small.” 

“Yeah, earth to Dr Tsunoda, cardboard boxes have sharp edges.”

“We aren’t Doctors yet, idiot. You should have let Nurse Robson do it.”

“We will be soon. And Kathleen’s mad at me because I ate her dark chocolate digestives the other day.”

“C'mon. You know better than that by now.”

“I was running between shifts and it was desperate, okay.”

“Not okay.”

“Yes, we know how seriously you take the issue of food thef– ow.”

“The swab was coming from one mile away.”

“It still hurts!”

“Do you need a little bit of, what. Kissing on your big fat head. To make it better.”

“Some of us are genetically not blessed with caucasian genes and hairlines. But yeah. No. Maybe. I don’t care!”

“If you don’t care, then I won’t do it.”

“I didn’t– oi– why are you puckering so weird? Oh for fuck’s sake, your lips are dry.”

“At least your complaining is just the same each time.”

“Wow, Yuki. What would I even do without you.”

“I don’t know. But– stop staring. You always– hold on. It’s buzzing.”

“I have the same equipment. I get the exact same buzzes.”

“You saw the ping? Tracheostomy on 2B.”

“Oh, good. Not done one of those in a while. Should be fun-as.” 

“You have very weird ideas of having fun."

"That's why you like living with me, obviously."

"Maybe I'm regretting it."

"Are you?"

“Whatever. Let's go save some lives, ohbei.”

"Right back atcha, hobbit king."

"Stop calling me that. Or I'll stop bandaging your ugly face."

"Hmmm. I'll consider the request. Yeah, no– I won't."

"Asshole."

"Your favourite asshole."

"Shut up."

--------------

[emceescha]

I HAD TO ROLL IN BECAUSE I GOT THIS TIKTOK OF ALAN CUMMING SINGING MAYBE THIS TIME IN A MASHUP WITH WILD PARTY AND I JUST THOUGHT OF YOU OK 👉👈 - https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNeoyWCHv/

Gotta know if this prompts any emcee thoughts of course 💅 (@squips-ship)

@squips-ship LAURAAAAA 🫶🫶🫶

alan loves covering other cabaret songs i swear to goddddd his cover of mein herr is actually already on my emischa playlist ;w;

this is huuuge though goooooood im going to go CRAZY!!! HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO ALL THAT AND HE DID!!! HE DID THAT !!!!!!!!

it is so fitting for emischa though too... like.. GOD he wouldnt ever perform it but my god .. theoretically.. he would in the show.. when its just him alone on the stage.. fuuuck . wishing deep down that mi wont leave them.. that maybe for once he's allowed to emotionally invest himself in something, to let himself take a chance to be loved that maybe it is unconditional.. that he doesnt have to worry abt them leaving or it all being temporary like everything else in his life. fuuuuck. and thematically it's about the fleeting nature of hedonism. the downsides. everything around them is changing and nobody knows if its for the better or not (its not). they arent good for each other probably but they are together anyways. fuck

[nasuversekinkmeme]

much ado about soap operas - BlackJacketsandPens - Fate/Grand Order [Archive of Our Own]

Original Prompt: 

https://www.tumblr.com/nasuversekinkmeme/725393704201912320/morgan-castoria-or-oberon-get-stuck-watching-a?source=share

morgan castoria or oberon get stuck watching a live action 10000000 page slow burn mutual pining fic set in novum chaldea and possibly have to restrain themselves from just going up and telling the two idiots whoever they are that their feelings are fucking mutual moron i can see it with my faerie eyes please just get together so i can live my life without reading your mind as you wax rhapsodic about this bitch’s smile and sulk because you think they dont like you

Summary:

Castoria and Oberon commiserate over their Master’s ridiculous mutual pining situation and resolve to (attempt to) figure out how to do something about it. Why is Chaldea such a soap opera?! (SFW, no content warnings)

Honestly, Oberon thought sulkily. If he wanted to watch a soap opera, he’d steal someone’s television. (And he really, in point of fact, did not. Soap operas were annoying.)

The one…okay, one of the many bad things about being stuck in Novum Chaldea as one of Master Komadori Fujimaru’s servants was, well, the interpersonal drama. God help him but it was everywhere! You couldn’t take two steps without spotting some idiot with more issues than a magazine subscription, and his Faerie Eyes made it that much worse. Granted it was a bit more wildly varied and unhinged and frankly slightly more entertaining than Faerie Britain had been, yes, but still. Gah, were Heroic Spirits allergic to communication?!

(Not that he’s one to talk, but he has an excuse.)

And the worst part? Oh, the worst part was that not even their esteemed master was above it all! On the bright side, she was one of the most sincere, genuine, earnest people he knew, and it really did kind of hurt his eyes to look at her sometimes, clear and bright like Proper Human History’s blue sky – and there were icky emotions on his end there that he was not about to properly examine any time in the near ever – so it was a bit less awful than literally any other human ever. But on the downside, beyond her. Uh. Well, she had Thoughts about him he was studiously ignoring, and she had a remarkable propensity for horny thoughts every so often about…a lot of Servants, of both genders, but neither of those things were the problem here.

Oh no. The Komadori soap opera was about one person in specific, and it wasn’t the dead doctor or the samurai chick, both of which he’d heard about and heard she was still pining for in varying degrees. No. No, she had much worse taste than that. (Not that he knew the two dearly departed to judge her taste where they were concerned, but honestly, if she was eyeing him she had abysmal taste anyway.)

It was the infamous golden Archer, in point of fact. The shiny, arrogant, insufferable King of Heroes himself. Why, he had absolutely no goddamn clue. But boy, were her thoughts and feelings a whirlwind of pining and wistful sighs and all that stupid shit that sent her borderline swooning. Ugh! He was too busy gagging internally to parse the mashup of feelings that she gave off when he was in her vicinity, but it was goopy and gross and he desperately wished she’d just say fuck it and kiss him already, but nooooooo. Nooooooo.

And as if that weren’t bad enough, the stupid king was giving off the same bullshit pining nonsense! You’d think, given his attitude about basically everything, he’d be the first one to do something about it, sweeping her off her feet and declaring her His and making some arrogant proclamations about treasure or some dumbass shit. He didn’t seem the type to pine. And yet here the idiot was, watching her when her back was turned with the most stupidly fond expression on his face, and physically restraining himself from calling her whatever it was – probably some sappy ass nickname – that popped into his head every time he talked to her.

And of course, half the time he walked into the cafeteria to filch a meal from someone not paying attention, there they were. Being stupid. In front of his salad! Yeesh.

Thusly irritated, he spots one of his own usual targets and waltzes over, perching daintily in the seat beside her and resting his chin on a hand to beam sunnily at his Artoria, the Caster sitting distractedly with her tray of food in front of her. If he was going to be in a sour mood, he sure wasn’t going to be in one alone if he had anything to say about it!

“Gooooooood morning, Artoria~!” He chirps, his false cheer turned up to Extremely Grating levels for this early in the morning. “And how are we this fine day~? Why the long face?” He reaches out to steal a strawberry from her fruit cup just to add insult to injury, but she barely notices. Huh.

Instead, she flops onto the table, her forehead hitting it with a solid thunk. “Why is she so stupid,” she groans, voice muffled. “Smart about everything else, and yet. And yet. Gahhhhh.”

Oberon blinks slowly. “And you would be referring tooooo….?”

She tilts her head to peer up at him, one of her green eyes fixing him with the most deadpan look she can muster, which is definitely nothing to sneeze at. “Komadori. Duh. You can see it too, or you wouldn’t be trying extra hard to piss me off this morning. You always try to needle people when you’re in a bad mood.”

…well, he’s not going to belabor the fact that she knows him that well, even if he absolutely resents the hell out of it. In any case, she’s right, and he steals a grape and sticks his tongue out at her before popping it in his mouth.

“Busted,” he says, sighing dramatically. “Honestly, it’s exasperating. Look at them! I’d thought that King of Heroes was the type to take what he wants whether you want him to or not, and yet here they are, being– ugh, starcrossed. That hack Shakespeare’s written comedies like this and I hate them just as much.”

Artoria rolls her eyes. “No kidding!” She complains. “I’ve talked to my other selves about it, the original knows him pretty well and from what she says he’s absolutely the type to go for it way too hard if he’s into someone. Not to mention Komadori! I’ve seen her hit on a ton of Servants, and heck, she even flirts with him, but have they gotten their act together? No!” She sighs, just as dramatically. “It’s ridiculous!”

They fall silent, and stare at the duo – Komadori was with one of her usual mealtime groups, that being that Irish Lancer that looked like Grimr, the red haired Archer in green, and a couple others, and the King of Heroes was off being an arrogant tool with that just-as-gold pharoah, and both were studiously not shooting looks at each other every so often – for a long moment. And then as one, they turn to look at each other.

“Operation: Soap Opera Busters?” Artoria suggests.

Oberon grins, showing off his much-too-sharp teeth for a handsome faerie king. “Oh yes, let’s.”

She grins back, showing off her matching set. “Meet me in my room later, I’m gonna investigate. You see what you can find out too.”

“Got it~” He hums. “Let’s get our dearest darlingest Master laid.”

(Maybe if she was getting railed regularly by Mister King Goldie, she’d stop having those Thoughts about him. Right?)

——

Well! He thinks, as he finds his way to Artoria’s room – ‘room’, given she crashes in Komadori’s room more often than not – he’s discovered some very stupid, but very pertinent information about the King of Idiots. Okay, to be fair, it’s not objectively stupid, but it’s making the man act like a complete buffoon.

A quick library raid behind that mousy, big-breasted librarian Servant’s back got him the most basic information on the golden idiot’s myth, and that sent him seeking out the Servant named Enkidu. Now, he’s aware there’s a goddess or two from the area around, but he’s seen Ishtar in the cafeteria and hell the fuck no, no thanks. He actually likes Enkidu, anyway. The thing’s a clay doll made from the Planet itself, and considering he’s, well, similarly born…there’s a bit of a strange kinship. Granted, one of them was made to corral a semi-divine tyrant and the other was made to devour an entire country, but hey. Gaia’s weird like that.

And Enkidu, it turned out, was just as frustrated with golden boy as the two unwilling spectators were! Good! The homunculus had happily divulged what Oberon had been looking for, and even offered their assistance in ‘forcing Gil to stop acting so ridiculous about Master’ if needed. Which was probably going to be needed if Oberon intended to have a Pointed Conversation with the man, given golden boy could probably break him in half with one hand. Stupid arbitrary Strength stats.

Anyway! Onward. He pops into Artoria’s room with nary a knock, and waves at her sitting on a crate – yes, her ‘room’ was a storage room she’d decided to commandeer as her little headquarters when she wasn’t napping in a pile with Komadori on her bed – with a winning smile. “Hello, hello, do I have some juicy gossip for you~! Courtesy everyone’s favorite green haired homunculus, who sends their regards and offer of assistance beating Golden Idiot upside the head if we need it.”

Artoria snickers. “Komadori told me they made friends by beating each other senseless in a market square,” she says. “I’m somehow not surprised it’s that kind of friendship. Anyway! I ended up talking to that Servant, um, Robin Hood, because I asked around and someone told me he was actually there in that Singularity thing that took place in Gilgamesh’s kingdom. Komadori gets evasive about some of the stuff that happened there, so I figured it’d be a good place to start. And boy, was it!”

“So I take it we both have the juicy gossip~?” Oberon says, amused. “Good to know, so spill it. What happened?”

Artoria leans in, eyes alight with that vicious sort of glee that he’d always found so damn funny, more so now that he’s met her other selves, who have none of that unhinged sort of feral wildness she does. “Gilgamesh – like, actual living person in the Singularity Gilgamesh, though ours has his memories apparently – literally jumped in front of a laser for her. Like, Robin was there, he saw it but didn’t move fast enough and then like, boom! Right through the heart! He literally died for her, Oberon, like, oh my god! Robin said he said some dumb shit about needing to anyway for Singularity reasons, but like, of all ways to go!”

“He died for her and she still doesn’t think he–” Oberon groans. “Is she stupid?! She’s stupid! Look at him, you’ve seen him, he’s got a head bigger than Cernunnos and acts like a spoiled five year old half the time, he wouldn’t do something like that unless he legitimately gave a damn! How the hell does she not see it!?”

Artoria shrugs helplessly. “Robin says his best guess is that Komadori’s got some trauma over losing people after that doctor guy and the samurai lady and, like, half the people she’s ever met along the way saving the world– and to be fair, we didn’t help– so she’s afraid to commit just in case,” she explains, and Oberon grimaces. Hell, she did have a point there. They, uh, really didn’t do much to not reinforce the ‘all my friends die’ trauma. Oops, sorry not sorry (on his end, at least, he’s sure Artoria does feel a bit bad). “Which does make sense. But, I mean, come on, he’s a Servant! She can always summon him back. Which, granted, doesn’t erase the dying part, but still. Isn’t he like one of the most mega-powerful Servants anyway? He’s gotta be hard to kill!”

“And anyway, she’s not one to balk at taking stupid, reckless risks,” Oberon adds with a roll of his eyes. “You and I both have seen how insane she is firsthand.” He studiously is not going to mention the fact that one of said risks was nearly jumping off the Border after him when he’d fallen. Nope, not relevant. “But…wait a minute,” he blinks and then slaps a hand to his face. “Oh my god, they have the same damn issue! This is ridiculous!”

Artoria blinks. “What?”

“Yes!” He complains. “I told you, I talked to Enkidu! They said that when they were both alive, they’d died because gods are shitheads, and Golden Idiot was mega ultra traumatized forever by it!” There was more to it than that, about the idiot’s terminal semidivine induced loneliness and avoidance of any real connections besides Enkidu themselves, but given Oberon understood that part a tiny bit too well he wasn’t going to think about it too hard. “They’re both sitting around pining relentlessly but being too scared to say anything because they don’t want to risk losing someone they love again and being hurt, my god this is actually worse than Shakespeare!”

Artoria buries her face in her hands, swearing inarticulately in a mix of very colorful Cornish, Breton, and Welsh – he’s so proud, who taught her half of those – for a moment before sighing. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?” She moans.

“We do,” Oberon complains, draping dramatically across another crate. “Uuuuughhhhh, why did I sign up for this?”

“Because you’re as sick as I am of watching them dance around each other?” Artoria suggests. “Because you like Komadori and want to see her happy?”

“Shut up, do not accuse me of that second one, how dare you,” Oberon snaps. Rude! He absolutely, totally, definitely hates their master. For sure. Completely. Yep. No lies here. “But damn it all, you’re right, I am sick of it.”

They fall silent for a moment, staring at each other.

“…we have to talk to them now, don’t we,” Oberon says.

Artoria blinks slowly. “That…is the next step, yeah.”

More staring.

And thus comes the simultaneous frustrated screams of two people who are notoriously terrible at sincere interpersonal communication realizing they’ll have to actively do just that in order to resolve this issue.

Ah, well. Looks like they’ll be suffering for a little longer, won’t they?

[mykingdomforasong]

Ooh, how about Historical + Huddling for Warmth with DinLuke for the mashup?

((I have a wip where Din is basically Shakespeare and Luke is his patron (Earl of Southampton), so I've set it in that universe -- England circa 1593 (the plague summer). This is a very self-indulgent AU. This doesn't fit the prompt that well, but it's the historical period I know the most about.))

Rating - M (could maybe be T)

~

Din sat at Luke's writing desk, his fingers of his left hand scratching at the fine, polished wood, as his right hand clutched a quill that scratched away at the parchment. Candles and moonlight lit the room. A rare breeze blew through the room, cooling the hot summer air with all the force of a child blowing the steam off a hot stew.

The right word was evading him. He'd tried half a dozen or so, but none of them fit the meter or set up the right rhyme. His foul paper was covered in more scratched out words than final ones. He felt guilty for abusing his master's fine paper in such a manner, but there was no other way.

He stopped scratching, and instead turned into tapping.

Impediments, he wrote. tap TAP tap TAP. Yes, that would do.

"Master poet," Luke called to him from his spot on the bed. In his usual fashion, he hadn't dressed after making love, choosing to just wrap himself up in his sheets and drift to sleep. He pushed himself up now, the candle light dancing off the blonde hairs of his chest. "As your patron, I must insist you stop writing and return to bed."

Din had left him in a flurry of sheet and pillows when he felt the muse call to him. His coy mistress had abandoned him though by the time he reached ink and paper. With his newly discovered word impediments he'd managed to squeak out a single line.

"I felt inspired, my lord," Din told him.

"You can be inspired over here," Luke said. He reached out his left hand, trying to pull Din back in his direction as if through the air. "It's such a cold night. I'd appreciate some words to warm my bed."

Din laughed. He'd pulled on a linen undershirt when he'd gotten out of bed and nothing else. Even that was already sticking to his chest with sweat. The August heat and the light of the candles kept the room hellish, and their nightly activities only made it worse.

"I think I should keep my distance if you feel chilled in this weather," Din said, but he dared not speak any more in jest for fear of welcoming Death into the home.

Luke flopped back onto the mattress with a dramatic flare to rival Din's own fellow players.

"I'm not chilly," he admitted to his lie, "just burdened with desire."

"Then you should feel hot," Din corrected. "I don't know that I would help alleviate that feeling."

"You, master poet, are the only one who can," Luke said, propping himself up just a little to see if Din would move towards him.

Din abandoned his sonnet, stood up from the desk, and stripped off his linens.

Luke's bed was feather-stuffed, and his bedding was cotton and silk. The air around him seemed always so impossibly perfumed; all luxuries Din imagined belonging to Cleopatra and Helen of Troy. And yet, here they were now, under his knees.

"You, my lord, are a lusty devil," Din said, retaking his position over his patron. Luke's sweet mouth met his. Din felt his hand in his hair, and the stump of his right wrist where Luke had lost his hand trace down his side.

"And thou, master poet, are incredibly tedious." Luke's hand was between them now, moving in lawless ways.

"I'll write you a sonnet in so high a style, Luke, that no man living shall come over it, for in most beautiful truth you deserve it," Din promised. Luke always flushed with passion when Din used his Christian name.

"Any words that might keep you from me tonight are foul," Luke insisted.

"No," Din protested, kissing his cheek, then neck, then chest. "Fair, only fair words."

"Fair is foul," Luke said. Din couldn't quite make sense of that one.

"Then stop my mouth," Din said.

Luke did as he was bid, and captured his mouth again. Luke wrapped his legs around Din, pressing Din even closer as if he wanted every inch of Din to be flush against him. Din always managed to forget just how strong Luke's legs had become from a lifetime of riding. He found himself utterly at the mercy of his patron.

[thesinglesjukebox]

'WEIRD AL' YANKOVIC - "POLKAMANIA!"

"Weird Al"'s first Jukebox appearance... today, we have finally truly become the Singles Jokebox.

[4.38]

TA Inskeep: Oh look, vaguely recent pop hits set to polkas. <Miranda Priestly voice> Groundbreaking. </Miranda Priestly voice> [2]

Kat Stevens: There are a certain subset of songs which I've only ever encountered in "Weird Al" polka medley form: I have no idea what the original "Cradle of Love" sounds like, nor have I any real interest in finding out. So it spoils the fun a little when it turns out I know all the tunes already. [4]

Julian Axelrod: "Weird Al" Yankovic was one of my first favorite artists, which means I was exposed to some of the biggest pop hits in history via parodies and polka medleys. So while "Polkamania!" might disgust and confound the average listener, I find it charming that he's still committing to this incredibly specific bit forty years into his career. It's been a decade since "NOW That's What I Call Polka!", which means Al has a wide array of hits to cover, from the obvious ("Shake It Off") to the inspired ("Vampire") to the baffling. (My biggest laugh came not from his polkafied version of "WAP," but the censored rendition of "Thank U, Next" that immediately follows.) It's hard to judge this through a contemporary critical lens when it exists mainly as a funhouse inversion of pop's immediate past. Listening to a "Weird Al" polka medley in the year 2024 feels like returning to your hometown and finding out your favorite old haunt is still standing and still run by the same curly-haired weirdo, untouched by the evolution of taste and the passage of time. [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: A foil to Eminem: Em is crass where Al is gosh-darn unoffensive, dying to offend where Al is dying to please, but the two artists share a drive to present themselves as more chaotic than they actually are. (I interviewed "Weird Al" once, and he was so unwaveringly on-message that it felt like interviewing a career politician.) Their pop-culture medleys are as routine and unsurprising as holiday concerts, though Al's are more event managed: doing the press circuit, he was happy to break down all the logistics of the "Polkamania" assembly and approval process. In doing so, he critiqued the song better than I ever could: SZA ghosted him, but Lin-Manuel Miranda returned his call in like 30 seconds. [4]

Tim de Reuse: I'm sorry, Al. This kind of thing was your bread and butter, but we've pulled the rug out from under you. The genre-cloud of "recognizable song awkwardly re-rendered in different style" is the basis for a million clickbait YouTube thumbnails, ten percent of all videos on TikTok, and probably a quarter of all audio-based generative AI prompts. I've already heard all of these songs as Gregorian chant, as Norwegian black metal, Midwest emo, using the soundfonts from Super Mario 64, performed by a bad Kate Bush impersonator, in fucking "Negative Harmony" -- never of my own volition. This stuff is just in the air now, competing for my attention, and it all sounds the same as every cell phone ad. Wat's left here? Polka? Is polka still funny on its own merits? Was it ever? It's not you, Al. It's us. I'm sorry for what we did. [1]

Joshua Lu: "NOW That's What I Call Polka!" was a guilty pleasure of mine, operating as a genuinely catchy and humorous summation of then-recent hits made by a man with a palatable appreciation for pop music and a knack for taking on unserious tasks with the utmost seriousness. "Polkamania!" is mostly the same, and in being his first mashup since then (aside from some Hamilton thing I can't bring myself to listen to), he's had to distill over a decade of hits down instead of just a few years' worth. All of these songs included make sense, but every other song just instills a sense of "Oh yeah, that was a thing once," culminating in a Taylor Swift remake that surely would've amused me in 2013 but now just feels a dozen lifetimes old. It doesn't help that some of these songs are just kind of boring and don't offer much by way of humor, forcing pretty straightforward polkafications and awkward transitions.  [5]

Ian Mathers: Look, none of these will ever equal "Polka Your Eyes Out" to me, both because of the song selection there and because I was 10 when it came out. But I'm happy Al's out there doing his thing, and I hope he never changes. [6]

Mark Sinker: OK, back in April some clown called on him to become our beloved worm-man god-emperor, and now look what happened: “Brat Al” Yankovic! There’s a whole slab of cultural and music theory to be explored one day, about what happens when you convert modern pop into sheet music and then convert it back out again into your favoured local sound-style: what gets elided, but also what’s gained (not nothing)! And maybe some day someone will write it up — but that day is not today and that someone is not me.  [5]

Hannah Jocelyn: The polka medleys were never my favorites; it's almost always the same shtick and there's none of the cleverness of his usual material or his (underappreciated!) style parodies. There's inspiration here to be sure, "Weird Al" doing "Bad Guy" as klezmer gets this a positive score on those grounds alone. Maybe if he released this five years ago or in five years it would work and not fall victim to the Anxious Interval. But this is "Weird Al", long-reigning king of kitsch. Who wants him to be in touch? [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Both 10 years out of date and 10 years into the future. Welcome back, polka. (And "Weird Al," too.) [10]

Taylor Alatorre: I appreciate that there's a person out there who can get me to say with a straight face a sentence like "I miss when the polkas were more thematically consistent." [5]

Jonathan Bradley: "Weird Al" sucks. I feel so mean to say that: people love this guy who, let’s face it, is completely harmless and has been delighting (mostly) children for decades, and here I am telling you how appalled I feel that we celebrate such a pristinely executed vision of pure crappiness. And yet, here we are blurbing him, so: I hate the querulous insipidity of Al’s interpretation of pop music. His schtick demands familiarity with pop — otherwise the parodies make no sense — but shies away from the music’s flair and vision and emotion, as if the pleasure these things offer is too terrifying and too adult, and must be remediated through the lens of banality so as to be controlled. His jokes rarely riff on details of the texts themselves, the way a Lonely Island video might, but replace any intensity of feeling with artefacts of suburban triviality: crappy television, crappy minor medical ailments, and so much crappy, crappy food. Even the verisimilitude of his productions — his greatest actual talent — runs headlong into the crappiness of his adenoidal voice, reassuring us that he’s not so proficient at his craft as to be mistaken for a star. And then there’s his sideshow of playing covers with an accordion, which we understand to be a joke instrument, in the style of polka, which we understand to be a joke genre. Is his polka any good? None of his listeners care. Do they go on to explore more polka? Why would they? Do people who enjoy polka think Al is contributing anything to the music they love? Who cares; the incredible notion that someone somewhere might enjoy polka is part of the joke. Because the most desiccated and shriveled aspect of Al’s relationship with pop is that he can’t imagine it has its own jokes. Cardi B is funnier in “WAP” than he is here. Lil Nas X was a better troll on “Old Town Road.” Billie Eilish had better comic timing with her interjected “duh” on “Bad Guy.” And I understand how churlish I sound saying all this. I am Seymour Skinner; I am Ed Rooney. But I like jokes! (I’m not mad. Please don’t put in the newspaper that I got mad.) The problem is that there is nothing fun happening here! [0]

Alfred Soto: I'm happy Al exists. This song sucks. [2]

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