PB&J

Summary: A different Robert(Bo Burnham)'s skit rewritten to have Robert Reynolds and Lindy Lee star in it

Warnings/Tags: This may be insensitive. Profanity. Comic Bob (leaning more on the schizophrenic side than possible BP/BPD/DID or other variant) kind of replacing Bo. From Bob's Perspective.

A/N: This is what writer's block does to a person.

Bob stood before of the crowd, adrenaline pumping from the performance, the lights, the crowd--everything. He knew what the next skit was, and he had to put his complete concentration into the timing of it all. It reminded him of the intro from his previous show, three years prior.

He rubbed a hand over his gray long-sleeve as a prerecorded, slightly deepened voice boomed around him, demanding the audience's attention:

And now, what making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich feels like when you're high on marijuana.

He took a few steps forward, head down as the music swelled in, reaching into an invisible bar of peanut butter.

At the beat drop, his head whipped up, and he began moving about the stage like a maniac, going from a sort of crab walk to grabbing ingredients and utensils. His movements were precise and energetic, and the cheering and laughter from the crowd only fueled him even more.

The machines in front of him on the ground blew air dramatically in his face, his hair looking ethereal as he mimed his attempt to combine the two slices of bread slowly, as if some powerful force were at play and the act itself was so grand it should not be rushed. He lifted his legs one by one, replanting his footing in sync with the music. Once the music swelled again, he smushed his hands together and mimed a bite as the stage darkened.

The audience clapped and cheered, likely thinking that the bit was over, but the light came back and Bob retreated to his original spot once more as the announcer spoke again:

And now, what making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich feels like when you're shit-faced.

Bob stepped forward, same as before, but the music swelled to lead into a slowed-down, "crunchier" version of audio instead of the epic instrumental, his sluggish walk and unfocused eyes matching it. Laughter could be heard as he took a hand full of jelly and used a rolling pin to roll the bread slices. Bob goofily danced like he had only a percentage of control over his body and mimed pouring an entire jar of peanut butter onto the bread, which he slowly began eating out of with his bare hands.

Suddenly, the music cut out, and the stage became more illuminated as the sound of squeaky shoes, keys, and a door closing rang out.

"Hey, baby. I'm home," a female voice called out as Bob quickly turned his back against Lindy, hunched over the jar of peanut butter.

"Honey, you okay? What's wrong?" her voice called out. Bob mumbled something inaudible, still slouched.

"Are you drunk? Have you been-- You've been drinking, haven't you? You've been fuck--... You're fucking wasted, aren't-- I can't hear you, Bob, speak into the microphone."

Bob walked up to it as the audience laughed a bit, swallowing before saying in a clearly drunk voice, "I'm not."

"What's behind your back? What're you holding behind your back?" Lindy asked, frustrated. "Just.."

"Itching," Bob replied (Just- just don't be-), "itchy back (what is- just show-)."

"What're you hiding behind your back? Just show me," Lindy demanded, exasperated. Bob clumsily brought his hand out, holding up nothing.

"It's a jar of peanut butter," he said sluggishly, "sue me."

"That's mayonnaise," Lindy sighed out, making the audience chuckle once more, "That is a jar of mayonnaise, that is not peanut butter. Why are you holding a jar of mayonnaise?"

"Why are you holding a jar of mayonnaise?" Bob deflected, eyes almost completely closed at this point.

"I- I'm not holding a jar of mayonnaise," Lindy said pointedly.

"Touché, bitch," Bob replied, earning some more laughs from the crowd. Lindy sighed once more.

"You know what? I am fucking done with this shit, okay? I had to get up at 5:00 a.m., I had to be at work by 6:00," she ranted as Bob clumsily stumbled a bit near the microphone. "I had an exhausting day, I just wanna come home, unwind, relax, and I come home to a mess that I have to clean up."

"I'll clean it up," Bob slurred, holding onto the microphone stand for support with one hand.

"No, no! I will have to clean it up, because you'll make it worse if you try to, okay?"

"Yeah."

"You know what? I'm fucking done with this," said Lindy as Bob addressed the audience (Are you? She's done.), "you are so immature (This is what I deal with Monday through...), I cannot leave you alone without getting shit-faced (...Monday)." She paused, frustration somehow still building up.

"Who are you talking to right now?" Lindy asked, exasperated. Bob pursed his lips slightly, pointing to the crowd so quickly he almost loses balance. "You just gestured to the sink," she spat out, "what does that mean?"

"There's an audience full of people," Bob slightly mumbled into the mic, chuckles still leaving some folks.

"Okay, you know what?" Lindy said. "This fic is getting a little too weird and meta. Okay? We're done with it."

Bonus:

5 years later

Lindy sighed exasperatedly, like she did everyday, living with Bob.

Chapter 3: The Strawberry Bear, Hound Poe, and the Red Hug Wedding

Fandom: Game of Thrones x Con Air / Toy Story / Nicolas Cage

What if the Red Wedding was saved by Arya Stark, Hound Poe, and a strawberry-scented Lotso Huggin' Bear using the power of hugs? 🍓🐻

-

"Hmm, oh fuck-"

Shane ground his hips down harder, painting slow circles. Ilya was so hard inside him, and Shane could feel him throb with arousal. His eyes were hooded, his mouth hanging open in bliss, and Shane mentally patted himself on the back for purchasing that vibrating butt plug which resided inside Ilya's hole right now.

Ilya babbled in Russian, looking up at Shane in adoration, an unending stream of praise and love that made Shane feel warm all over.

"Slow down, solnyshko," he slurred. There was spit on his lower lip; Shane licked it off and Ilya pulled him into a kiss.

"Are you gonna come for me?" Shane asked breathlessly, "Come inside me? Fill me up?"

Ilya groaned. "Ask nicely." His hand ran up Shane's spine, landing in his hair, pulling. Shane fluttered his eyelashes with a moan; he was close as well.

"Please come inside me, Ilya," he whined, "Please, need your cum-"

Ilya let out another groan, his fingers tightening in Shane's hair-

Then, several things happened at once.

Ilya opened his eyes, and just for a second, his gaze strayed away from Shane to a point behind him on the ceiling.

Then, he exclaimed "Oh, fuck!", but before Shane could feel proud of himself for making his husband come so hard, Ilya scrambled away from under him with so much force that it catapulted Shane off the foot end of the bed, Ilya's dick pulling out of him with a literal pop; at the same time, Ilya rolled sideways, scrambling; with a loud shlorp-sound, the butt plug exploded from his body with the force of a missile, hitting the wall and leaving a wet lube-print there while Ilya toppled off the bed backwards while his dick was spurting come all over his own chest and face.

"What the FUCK, Ilya!" Shane exclaimed, pulling himself up from the floor; his asshole hurt from Ilya pulling out so quickly.

"Spider!" Ilya gasped, pointing at the ceiling, "There's a fucking spider-"

Shane looked up, and yes, indeed, there was a spider sitting peacefully on the ceiling.

"Seriously!?" Shane asked, feeling annoyed.

"Yes!" Ilya groaned, wiping his own cum from his cheek. "Fuck, ow."

"Yes, ow!" Shane stood up, shaking his head, "You couldn't have stayed calm?!" He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and climbed up onto the bed.

"You know I hate spiders!" Ilya moaned pitifully. He sat up, rubbing his back, cursing in Russian.

"Evidently." Shane stretched, grabbing the poor thing with a tissue.

"Careful!" Ilya ducked aside as Shane made his way to the nearest window. Shane rolled his eyes at him, opened the window and tossed the spider out.

"There, done."

Ilya gave him an apologetic smile from the ground. At least he had the decency to blush. "My hero."

"Yeah, yeah." Shane smirked, reaching out for Ilya to offer him a hand. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" He gestured at where the damn butt plug was still vibrating on the carpet.

"No, is fine." Ilya sheepishly shook his head. "Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, my soul," Shane said dramatically, then licked a drop of cum from Ilya's collarbone. "That load was supposed to go inside me."

So, I have been writing a crack fic tonight that has Bianca and Sephiroth going to the Gold Saucer and I like to think there are themed rooms there, since this is comedy.

Like a Zack Fair themed room.

The door slides open, revealing a room that’s 90% Zack Fair: life-sized holograms of him flexing everywhere, a giant inflatable Zack that immediately starts screaming when it detects movement, a squat master 2000 and neon blue walls covered in "ZACK IS #1" posters. There was cat versions of his face on the bedspread. As they settle in, the holographic Zack activates again nearby, his voice booming through the room: "SQUATS ARE THE KEY TO A STRONG CORE! TRY TEN NOW!"

Guest Note: If you chose Option 1, please note that the room automatically locks until 50 squats are completed. Have a golden day!

Summary: What would it be like to have Arthur Spiderwick from the 2008 movie as a boyfriend?

A/N: Many of these imagines work for a gn!reader but some are anatomy-specific!

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Divider by @racingairplanes

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Alien Stage (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ivan/Till (Alien Stage), Ivan & Sua (Alien Stage), Ivan & Luka (Alien Stage), Hyuna/Luka (Alien Stage), Hyuna & Mizi (Alien Stage), Dewey & Hyuna & Isaac (Alien Stage), Hyuna & Hyunwoo (Alien Stage), Hyuna & Sua (Alien Stage), Mizi/Sua (Alien Stage) Characters: Luka (Alien Stage), Mizi's Mother (Alien Stage), Isaac (Alien Stage), Dewey (Alien Stage), Ivan (Alien Stage), Hyuna (Alien Stage), Hyunwoo (Alien Stage), Till (Alien Stage), Freddie | Till's Guitar (Alien Stage), Sua (Alien Stage), Io (Alien Stage), Mizi (Alien Stage), Acorn (Alien Stage), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Ivan and Luka are Best Friends (Alien Stage), Ivan and Sua are Related (Alien Stage), Established Mizi/Sua (Alien Stage), Luka-centric (Alien Stage), Luka is Bad at Feelings (Alien Stage), Luka is a Little Shit (Alien Stage), Luka is in Denial (Alien Stage), Luka is Whipped (Alien Stage), Luka is a Menace (Alien Stage), Can you tell I love Luka, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, OC is not main focus, Just a side character, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, I'm Bad at Tagging, Bad Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ivan is Bad at Feelings (Alien Stage), Emo Till (Alien Stage), Musical Instruments, Mizi is a Ray of Sunshine (Alien Stage), Alien Stage is a band, POV Alternating, Betaed Summary:

Admittedly, maybe accepting that scholarship into Anakt University wasn’t the best decision Luka made.