#I mean I still struggled making it happen but I did it. only dishes and snail care left which I'll tackle in the morning

[tootiecakes234]

The Bet (Part 2)

Warnings: smut(MDNI)

The first night goes without a hitch considering once you got home that night you were tipsy, and only enough energy to shower and get in bed. It was the next morning when the problems started.

Day 1:

Saturdays were you and Katsuki’s lazy day. It just so happens that the two of usually like to start lazy days with lazy sex. All the soft kisses and slow motions. Katsuki was always so sweet in the mornings.

So imagine how disappointed you were when Katsuki was already up and out of the bed when you woke up. You find him in the kitchen dressed like a slut at the stove making breakfast.

“Why’d you leave me in bed by myself” , you ask as you wrap your arms around his waist and press yourself against his back.

“ it was either slip outta bed or slip inside you.” He sounded like he was pouting.

“Ooohhh are you struggling already baby??? Cuz I can give you what you want. All you gotta do is say the word.”, you said with a teasing tone.

“Tch not a chance. Now sit your ass down so we can eat.”

You peeled yourself off of him and took a seat.

“So we never went over the specifics for this. What is and isn’t off limits?? Can we get ourselves off? Is oral on or off the table?? Hmmm?”

“No one touches my pussy again til you’ve begged me, so that means no getting ourselves off and no oral. That’s still sex dumbass”

“Sounds good to me”, you were smug now but it wouldn’t last.

You guys had cleaned up around your home this day.

The entire time you were cleaning you were thinking about him. He was just so good looking all the time, no matter what he was doing. He was washing dishes at one point and you were thinking about his hands wrapped around your throat with the soap bubbles in tact. And that made you think of taking a bubble bath with him, and the last time you guys did that…. Whoooo!!

What the hell was happening?? You had only been without sex for less than 48 hours. It can’t be this bad already!

You check your little period calendar and lo and behold you’re fucking ovulating!! What kinda of shitty ass bad luck is that.

“Hey, where is your head right now?? You’ve been zoned out since I started this movie and you were the one who told me to turn it on.”

“I… umm nothing. I was just thinkin. Why are dressed like a slut?? You got something against shirts??, you asked him annoyed.

“Hah? Where the hell did that come from? Since when do you give a fuck what I have on?”, he was looking at you like you’d lost your mind.

“ I don’t care. I just feel like you should put on some damn clothes,” you mumbled this cuz you knew you were being irrational but it’s true! He shouldn’t be allowed to walk around like that. He had on grey sweatpants and nothing else. Not even anything underneath cuz you could see the imprint of his dick.

When you looked at Katsuki again the bastard was smiling at you. “You ready to give in yet?”

“I- yo-…. You’re doing this shit on purpose??? Are you serious Suki?? You’re actually the devil incarnate.”

“You didn’t think I was going to make this easy on ya pretty girl.”, he then dragged you by your foot until you were laying down on the couch and he was hovering over you.

The next thing you know his lips are on yours. He was kissing you so intensely that it stole your breath away. His hands were on you and exploring and you were getting dizzy from it all.

When he pulls away from you, you all doe eyed with your lips parted and bruised. You open your eyes and he’s staring back at you with a grin on his face, “this is gonna be easier than I thought”.

“…….”

There’s no way. There’s no way he’s playing with you like this. He was teasing!

The thing is he wasn’t just teasing you. He was teasing himself and you felt it pressed up against your thigh! Two can play this twisted game.

You reached down between you two and brushed your hand over his hard on. His hissed a little. Ha, got em.

“Sorry, I thought that was the remote poking me.”

“Like hell you did”, he sneered at you.

You leaned up and kissed him sloppily cuz you knew it turned him. You slip your tongue in his mouth and he immediately starts playing with it, sucking on it. A little moan escapes him. Perfect, right where you want him.

You pull back enough to whisper up against his ear, “this is going to be easier than I thought.”

When you leaned back against the couch you tried your best to look innocent, but the laugh threatening to escape comes out as a giggle.

“This is war, you fucking tease”

All you did was smile at him and push him off you. “It doesn’t have to be war hot stuff. It could end here. All you have to do is get on your knees.”

He scoffed at you and got up and started walking away from you. “No way in hell princess! You’re going down.”

He was in a sour mood the rest of the night. That’s what he gets. Tomorrow you were stepping up your game. He’s playing checkers, you’re gonna be playing chess.

*this is longer than I intended but I really struggled with the way I wanted to write this. I think I’m gonna break it up into separate days. I also wanna write some of it in Bakugo’s POV. Let me know what you guys think.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

@ravenmoore14 @theplacetoputfics @sleepyyhabii

#imagine #bakugou x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #drabble #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo headcanons #bakugou katsuki #fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo smut

[bun-z-bakery]

A/N: heres a little something extra too ;3

DogDay x reader

CW: suggestive

Bath Day

You were off from work today, which usually means it's your day to relax with your little family or struggling to take the bigger members a bath.

Today just so happened to be the latter, and boy were they in for the surprise.

The four of you had just finished eating lunch and dogday was on dish duty today. But you just happened to be a bit too quiet.

"Angel? Are you ok?"

He calls out for you but he doesn't get a response.

Once he's done he's off to find you. You're not in the common areas so his way over to your shared room.

"Angel?"

He opens the door, revealing you behind it.

"Hey!"

You walk up to him, giving him a hug

"Guess what today is!~"

You sang as he hugged you back, you felt him freeze in place.

"But I washed dishes! Please, Angel"

He whines as you take his hand, reluctantly following you to the bathroom that's been prepared for the soon-to-be fight he would put up.

"I don't think I need a bath just ye–"

"Someone thought it would be fun to play outside in the mud while I was away"

He stands at the door while you check the water temperature and gather what you need.

"So now here we are! Plus kissy needs a bath too but you take me a while."

You laugh, using the bathing brush to point at him.

He sighs and makes his way in, he loves you he really does but he hates baths. Getting soaked made him a bit heavier, and drying off was a pain. He knows he has to though, even he admits that he smells.

"Come on the water feels nice!"

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, he stares at you confused for a second.

"Angel! What are you doing?!"

Your clothes were now on the floor as you sat in the water, you wore an orange bathing suit with little dogs on it.

Adorable

He thought to himself as he walks closer.

"Well I figured this might make things a little bit easier for you"

You smile at him, and motion for him to sit.

He makes his way into the tub, his tail wags happily splashing some water on the floor. You didn't care, not only was he happy, but you were happy too. Who knew he'd enjoy bubbles when he wasn't whining all the time?

"Stay still!"

You playfully shout as you attempt to wash the giant dog, squirming in the tub.

"Angel that tickles!"

He laughs out, splashing you with more water.

At this point, you were both soaked from head to toe, so was the floor... and everything else but you'll deal with that later.

Later on in the day

You finished giving Kissy her bath and helped Poppy brush her hair.

Exhausted was an understatement, but you wouldn't have it any other way, you loved seeing them happy and of course, smelling nice.

"Guys, dinners almost done!"

You call out to everyone as you cut some vegetables.

Suddenly, a pair of giant hands grab onto your waist, making you jump.

"Dogday! I could've hurt you!"

You warn as you put the knife down, he doesn't let go, he takes his chance and leans down to your ear.

"Thank you, Angel~"

You gasp as he pulls you closer

"For what, exactly?"

He peppers your cheek with kisses, his tail wags viciously.

"The bath, I had fun!"

You hum in response as you try to cover your now burning-hot face.

"How about next time you don't wear an–"

"Smells good, Y/N!"

Poppy yells out as she and Kissy make their way down the stairs, you try to get out of Dogdays grip but he squeezes you before letting you go, and leans against the counter acting like nothing happened.

Kissy and Poppy poke their heads into the kitchen, you refuse to look at them.

"I thought you said you were almost done?"

She asks, sounding a bit disappointed.

You go back to cutting the vegetables

"Y-yeah I just had to quickly deal with something!"

You nervously chuckle

"All right! We'll watch some TV then!"

You nod in response, once they leave you side eye Dogday.

"What? I did nothing wrong my sweet Angel~"

He teases, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders smugly.

"The couch tonight."

You attempt to say coldly, trying to hide the smile on your face.

"You seem to be forgetting something, Angel"

"Oh and what's that?"

You laugh

"You seem to have forgotten who you belong to, hm?"

He leans to your ear once again

"Maybe you need a reminder~"

He purrs into your ear, running his fingers down the side of your neck.

Yeah, maybe you should call out of work tomorrow.

#bun z writes #dogday #dogday x y/n #dogday x reader #sunnyangel #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime

[copperbadge]

Told my therapist about NaClYoHo, and she likes the idea a lot. But she had a really important question that I couldn't answer: What happens at the end of November for people who want or need to continue?

Hey, I told mine too! She thought it was a smart way to systematize something that even people without ADHD struggle with. I did write a little about this in the manifesto but not in a systemic way, and perhaps I should add some kind of "What Happens After November?" onto the end, so thank you for asking this question!

No system works for every person, and often if a system does work, only part of it works. So when I went to write the manifesto, I wanted to make it as modular as possible. There's a reason that while NaClYoHo is a community, it's a very loose one, without a messageboard or discord or anything that would more intentionally bring people together. This is meant to be a framework on which you build your own home, not an apartment building.

So honestly, what happens at the end of November is up to you.

(I'm assuming for the rest of this post that you've been participating, but if you haven't, that's okay -- most of this should still apply, it's just less about "continuing momentum" and more about "committing to an idea".)

I talk a little in the manifesto about how doing this can help to systematize it -- having spent 30 days putting on a podcast and cleaning can teach you that it's easier than you think, and can put you in the habit. So if you feel it's good for you, keep doing what you're doing. Even posting about it, if you want. Maybe find a buddy you can talk to about it, or give it five minutes in therapy every week.

That said, doing this Every Day For A Month can also be tiring. I find it stressful! I manage the stress, but right now I look forward to giving myself permission not to see something dirty or broken and feel compelled to clean or fix it. Part of doing this in November, for me, is that the rest of the year I can say "Well, that's a November problem" and let it go. So you can, instead of keeping on, start keeping notes about what needs to be done, and either wait until next November, or designate a time period every few months to take care of it. Or have one day a week that's the Salty Pirate day, where you do dishes, or vacuum, or fold laundry or whatever.

NaClYoHo is going to taper gently for me -- it ends tomorrow, but some stuff is going to linger, like the craft projects I need to finish or the furniture I need to assemble that hasn't arrived yet. You can also do that -- keep cleaning as long as you have energy and, once you're feeling tired, stop for a bit.

Now, bearing in mind that I'm just a guy on the internet, it seems like your therapist is engaged with your process, so I would recommend bringing it back to her. She seems like the ideal person to help you make a plan for after November -- you can examine your options, maybe come up with some I haven't named, and discuss how each of them might impact you. And if you're checking in with her about it going forward, she can help you gauge how you're doing with it. At some point it might just be so habitual you don't need to worry about it as a process anymore -- or at some point you might need to set yourself a boundary.

It can be a little intimidating to put yourself so fully in control of something, but the only way you make this work for you is to make it your own. Whether that means continuing on with your whole chest, or shrinking it down for the rest of the year, or stopping -- you get to decide.

Good luck. :) And give your therapist a high five for me.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month

[actuallyadhd]

As someone with adhd who is struggling and still recovering from a major burn/total collapse. How does one deal with failure when you know that this failure was still a massive improvement like I probably failed two of my classes but also the fact that I made it to class 80% of the time and only 20% of my dishes were left dirty long enough to turn into a science experiment as a win but that doesn’t matter to the rest of the world. I feel both like I’m improving and getting a better grip on things and also like an absolute failure who can and should be doing so much better. I don’t ant to improve I want to succeed but I’m stuck and don’t know how to like I’m drowning and don’t know how to ask for help because it feels like I shouldn’t.

Sent December 7, 2023

Okay, first of all, HOORAY FOR MAKING IT TO CLASS AND KEEPING YOUR DISHES CLEAN! Regardless of anything else, those are two huge achievements. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks, I care that you did something that huge for you.

I also completely understand feeling stuck, feeling like you're drowning, feeling like a failure, not feeling able to ask for help. I'm not great at dealing with it yet, but I can at least tell you what's been helping me a little bit.

Redefining "success". Society has all these expectations about what constitutes success and how people should achieve it. I do my best to dump that stuff when it comes up, because it's just not applicable to me. (This is not easy.)

Doing "the next right thing". Sometimes the only thing you can do is the thing that makes sense in the moment. That has to be okay. So when you're feeling stuck, think about the one thing you can do right then to help you get where you want to be.

Reaching out for help, or at least for advice. This is not easy, but if you can find somewhere to go for support (like here!) it will be really good. I recently posted about some personal stuff in a Discord server and found out that some of the others there have the same problems. I also posted about some different personal stuff on Reddit and have gotten some great suggestions for how to deal with them. Both places have offered support in different ways, and that's what I need sometimes.

Here are a few tips about redefining success.

Think about what you really want to achieve. Just you.

Think about what you actually need in order to do that. For example, if you want to be a published author, do you need a degree in creative writing? If not, what do you actually need?

Think about how you can get what you need and achieve your goal.

Success doesn't have to mean "perfect" any more than it has to mean "rich". When I was working in Early Intervention, we considered a skill mastered when the student was able to do it correctly 80% of the time. It sounds to me like you did that this year, even if it didn't result in passing grades.

When you don't get that 80%, look at where things broke down so you can try and keep that from happening next time. For example, did you struggle with completing assignments on time? Maybe you need to get extensions on the due date. Maybe you need to break an assignment down into smaller steps and give each step a deadline so you can get it done and turned in on time. I obviously don't know, but if you need help figuring that stuff out we can help if you give more details.

Followers, do you have any words of celebration or encouragement (or both!)? Please share!

-J

#justanothernerdfighter #adhd #actually adhd #asks #school #executive dysfunction #success

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

Rhea's mistake (Part 9)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

It was early in the evening when Dom, Finn and Damian went back to their own flats. You were now alone with Rhea.

"You gonna tell me now why I had to remove my hand from your thigh?" she says with a smirk.

"I'd prefer not to but I guess I don't have a choice." you sigh. Rhea looks at you with a curious expression.

"Come on don't tease me" she begs. "Yeah, that brings us pretty much to the topic.." you say hesitantly.

Demi just looks at you confused. "Wait, did that- did I.. you got aroused?" she laughs.

You feel the heat rise in your face. You try to punch her jokingly put she catches your hand, pins you against the wall and rests her other hand on your hip.

You gasp, pictures of your ex flash through your mind, the first time he got physical, the first time he beat you up, the first time he raped you...

It was too much. You scream and push her away from you with all your strength. You run into the bathroom crying and lock the door behind you.

Rhea just stands there in absolute shock. Confusion, worry, surprise, everything. By the time she realizes what happened it was already too late..

In your panic you search through her drawers and eventually find some razor blades.

Don't do it, you know it's wrong, just get some help.

If you get help they won't believe you, they'll believe him, you have no other option. Your mind fights.

Rhea feels absolutely helpless and horrible for what she's done. How could she forget about that?

You set the blade, there's no going back now...

Shit shit shit shit shit it echoes in Rheas head. You got your razor blades in there, what if she does anything stupid? She's done selfharm before.

"Y/n!" Demi shouts and bangs her fist against the door. "Y/n please, let me in! I'm sorry, let's talk about it please!" she says with a calmer voice now. Tears running down her face.

You flinch as you suddenly hear Demi shouting and banging against the door. Fuck what do I do now? I can't let her in and see me like that!

"Y/n please! Please don't do anything stupid. I am so, so sorry, please!" Rhea begs.

You let the blade sink.. Your vision is blurry due to all of the tears but you still manage to somehow unlock the door.

Rhea storms in and hugs you so tight you struggle to breathe. " God y/n I'm so sorry" she cries, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You hug her back and you both sink down onto the ground without breaking your hug. Rhea pulls you on top of her lap and you just sit there and cry together.

"I am so sorry y/n, I didn't think it through" Demi sobbs. "It's okay" you whisper through your tears.

"God I've only known your for.. how long? Three days? And I already can't stand the thought of loosing you!" she pulls away slightly to wipe her tears.

She can't stand loosing you.. Shut the fuck up, she means it in a friendship kind of way! You're mind is fighting again. "I don't want to lose you too" you slightly smile at her.

Rhea hugs you again and you stay like that for a while before you decide to make some dinner and watch another movie together.

"Let me guess" Rhea says after you finished washing the dishes. "You want me to sleep in the bed with you again?" she smirks.

"How'd you know?" you say in mock indignation. You both laugh at that. "Come on then" Demi grabs your hand and pulls you into the bedroom.

"okay, I learnt from my mistake earlier so I'll ask. Is it okay if I push you onto the bed?" she grins. "Never" you say with your mock indignation again.

Rhea laughs and pushes you onto the bed. She places herself on top of you and tries to tickle you. You fight in a playful manner and Rhea even let's you win.

You are now on top of her and pin her arms down onto the bed next to her head. You smile at each other and you release her hands.

"Come here" Demi says and opens her arms. You cuddle up to her and she places her arms around you.

"I really like you and I barely even know you. Doesn't happen very often you know" Rhea whispers. You smile, "I really like you too"

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

Paaaart 9. Comment all your suggestions, ideas and stuff and if you wanna be featured in the taglist ;)

Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @babybatlover @thatonepansexual2000

#demi bennett #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wrestling #wwe x reader #ex boyfriend #fear #cry of fear #sh trigger warning #triggering content #dominik mysterio #the judgement day wwe #damian priest #finn balor #cuddles #the girls are fighting

[nailtagyuri]

Just Not's Burger King Bonanza

fics done! ao3 is cyberbullying me specifically so im posting it under cut until they reopen account registrations ^_^ [EDIT THEY DID YOU CAN CHECK IT OUT HERE GO GO GO!!] thanks to @/klonoadoortophantomile for reading the initial drafts!

If you need something here tagged as a trigger warning, please contact me via ask! This fic contains depictions of real life political figures, occasional graphic violence, and YURI!!! *thunder clap*

Morning descended upon the bathrooms-turned-hotel where TPOT was once held. The sun shone over the horizon and its light crept through the dust-covered windows, into the already noisy cafeteria smack-bang at the bottom of the tall building. Even if Two's "mandatory mealtimes" had ended along with the gameshow itself, the cafeteria still flourished as a regular gathering area for social interaction, at least to those who could manage a consistent sleep schedule.

Price Tag spotted their designated black and yellow table, where they always sat along with the rest of team-turned-friend group Just Not. They walked up to it, quietly asking Cake if he could move so they could take the window seat. He obliged. He knew Taggy liked absorbing the sunlight.

They :]'d comfortably as they eyed their companions. Book, Nickel, Cake and Bomby were eating with them this morning. Naily was still in bed and Pillow was probably also asleep, what with the obvious. They were glad the two had more time to rest than when they had things to wake up for, but a part of them missed the way Naily would sleepily stumble towards their table each morning, mumbling sweet incomprehensibles as she shuffled next to them and lazily rested on their "shoulder". Oh, how she struggled to stay awake in the brief moment before she guzzled down her dangerously acidic energy drink and shot straight up, bright and alert. But enough about her. They could talk to her later.

"So," Taggy perked, "What's been up with all of you?" "Crunklybrunkly zooper dooper," Nickel groaned, "don't even get me STARTED on this horrid excuse for a foodish substance." Price Tag saw Two cover their mouth with their paws from the other side of the room. They seemed extremely hurt. Nobody audibly got Nickel started but he kept complaining anyway. "Like, what's it supposed to be, melted yoylemetal?" He poked his dish, a gray, gelatinous, rectangular blob. It jiggled against his fork.

"I'd say it's Tofu," Book proposed as she took a bite of her salad. "Black bean. It's a bit gray, though. You should try it, anyway, if you want." "They don't call it gray bean, Book." Nickel rolled his eyes, sarcastically. Cake slid in. "You feeling alright, Nickel? You're not usually this grumpy." "WRONG ONE!?" Shouted Bomby, who gripped his head with his hands in sudden fright. "No, no, I'm not an impostor, I swear!" Nickel replied. "Ugh, sorry everyone. Just I wish the stuff we ate was… fine-er. The food Two makes is kinda mid."

"THE FOOD I MAKE FOR FREE, NICKEL?!" Two boomed from next to him. Nickel fell back in his seat, startled. His foot slammed his plate, launching the substance high into the air and directly onto his face. Everyone stopped for a moment to process what had happened. "Oh golly!" Book cried. "Your tofu…" "Uhh, ground sevruga, actually," Two corrected, raising their finger up nerdishly. "Only five spoons of one of the most expensive kinds of caviar on the market, condensed into a chunky rectangular delight and nuked in a microwave for 62 seconds. Better learn to eat it up, Nickel, the black sea can't provide these delicious tastes forever!" They walked away, smugly.

There was a brief silence, aside from Nickel's slurping. Taggy raised an eyebrow, astounded that a simple 'hello' could lead to such malarkey. "The heck did any of that mean?" They exclaimed. "Any of what mean?" Naily perked her lips to imitate Taggy's ,':{ as she walked up to the table. Upon seeing her, Price Tag's confused expression quickly morphed into a joyous :3. They felt their string begin to wag in excitement. It unconsciously thumped against the empty spot next to them repeatedly as if to gesture where she should sit.

Naily saw this and laughed. "Oh wow, so many choices," she teased. "I can barely decide." She crouched down before launching herself into a frontflip, barreling over the table and stabbing clean into her designated spot. "Nailed it!" She shouted, triumphantly. The rest at the table clapped. She pulled herself out and quickly grabbed her meal the others had been saving for her, unwrapping it hungrily and biting into it without thinking to take off the pickles. It was a cheeseburger, its buns dyed such an eye-burning tone of hot pink Taggy wondered how they hadn't lost sight just looking at it. Naily called it the 'Girlburger'. "But really," Naily asked as she took another bite, "what's going on, buddy? I heard someone scream from upstairs."

They turned to her slightly and explained what had happened. "I don't even know what cabby car is!" Nickel exclaimed through his loaf. "Hmm…" Naily put a paw on her chin thoughtfully, taking in all the information. "I think…" she spoke in a hushed tone, widening her eyes. The others moved in. "it's from the viewers' world."

Everyone gasped. Nobody among them had eaten food from, let alone seen the viewers' world in person before. Only Teardrop had gone when she was sent for a challenge, and they were extremely hesitant to discuss her findings. "That's nonsense!" Book cried. "Sorry, I mean… Naily, Two's a really thoughtful host, but are you sure they'd venture out to such uncharted lands just to make breakfast for Nickel, of all people?" Naily shrugged. "Yeah." "It'd make sense," Taggy chimed in. "They still have some of their limitless power, right? If they used it to easily come here from their home planet, maybe they could easily go from here to the viewers' world."

"Yeah!" Supported Cake. "Maybe they just like to travel, and that was, like, a souvenir." Nickel sat up. "Why don't we go there?" He asked, casually. "Y'know, see more food like this. It'd be a nice change of pace from all the Dragons and Dragons and Dragons campaigns." "You mean you liked it?" Asked Book. "Oh no, it was disgusting." He replied. "I just want more of it." "Oh. Well, that's a bit of a strange mentality- wha, wait a minute! We can't go! Are you insane?! We don't know what's out there!" She grabbed Nickel out of fear. "Well if Two can make it back in one piece," grinned Naily as she stood on the table, "then so can we, the 7th greatest team this side of Goiky! And I think I know just the guy who can help us…"

"I can't help you." Said Winner, dryly. "L." Shouted Price Tag, making a >:L. Naily grew upset. "But Winner, you're the only one with limitless power who isn't mad at us!" She pleaded. "Dontcha have a heart?" Winner frowned, slightly. She was right. Winner, after defeating Marker in a rather anti-climatic boxing match, had prophetically won the Power of Two and subsequently the grand prize. Being carried episode after episode through their loyal voterbase was a kind gesture, they knew that. If everyone was that nice, surely they'd be nice enough to not instantly kill a whole team with a woodchipper, right?

The thought of woodchippers reminded them of the British Exterminator Incident of '24, and they cringed. They shook their head. "I'm sorry, guys, it's dangerous territory out there, and I don't think you'd all fare well with that kind of responsibility. There's a good chance that if I let you lot go, you won't come back." They put their arm on their hip and closed their eyes affirmitively. Most of the group groaned. "THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!" Cried Book.

Taggy slid up to them. "C'mon, Winner, ol' buddy, ol' pal, ol' winner winner chicken dinner, you know I'd give you that kinda freedom if I were in your shoes!" "No you wouldn't." "Fair enough," they turned around and walked off. "THINK OF ALL THE FOOD!" Bomby cried. Nickel's eyes lit up. "Yeah!" He perked, as he scooched up to the defiant Winner. "Maybe they even have… purple tomatoes." Winner opened one eye. "The kind Two made for me back in the first episode?" They whispered. Nickel looked away playfully. "Perhaps."

Outside the hotel, Winner prepared to open a portal, waving their hand around slowly. "You guys owe me a real one." They said. "I'd get into a lot of trouble if Two found out I were using their powers to do this kinda stuff." Nickel got goosebumps. He and Two already weren't on good terms. "Oh, Winner, I'm sure we'll be okay!" Assured Cake. "So long as we don't, y'know… get lost. Or killed." Winner frowned. "Cake, you're a sweet guy, you don't have to be a part of this." He blushed slightly at the compliment. "No, no, really, we'll be fine! Book already told me all about how she escaped Evil Leafy, this should be no problem for her. Right, Book?" He turned to face her.

"Yeah, you could say so…" Book rubbed her arm nervously. Memories of her antics inside Evil Leafy were fuzzy after the 53rd puzzle or so, but from what she could recall she wasn't nearly as careful as Cake thought. Pits of spike and lava layered every corner of the dungeon and each obstacle grew more and more difficult for her to avoid; gruesome ends and embarrassing slip-ups were all too common and death became expected rather than feared, but at least back there she had some form of recovery. Who knew what this higher realm had to offer?

Winner shut their eyes as they began to conjure up the portal. Sparks flickered on their fingers as they moved hypnotically, a bright ball of energy starting to form on their rippling palm, flashing green and purple rapidly as it grew in size. The others looked on in amazement, gazing into the light as if they were challenging God to a staring contest. Naily, failing to break her stare, shuffled up on top of Bomby to cover up his fuse with her paws, in case a rogue flare set it on fire and blew him up. Besides the obvious, the last thing they needed was a loud explosion to draw attention to themselves, as if the electric crackling wasn't doing that already.

Winner clutched the ball with their fist. "So where are we going anyway?" Asked Nickel, choosing the worst time to ask a question. "Wh- I don't know!" Hissed Winner, hastily. "On the map, it looks kind of like a foot, if that helps!" They moved their arm back to aim. "You might wanna cover your ears…"

Two shuffled through their wardrobe, looking through their accessories before finding a large pink bow at the bottom of the pile. They brushed off the dust and slowly put it on, staring up at it to make sure it didn't fall. "How do I look?" They asked. Gaty finished her boba, slurping the contents at the bottom of the cup. "Absolutely fabulous," she complimented. "It suits you really well!" They smiled. Leave it to Gaty to give them a confidence boost. They sat down next to her, sipping their drink as they started to relax. "So what's been going on with Nickel?" Two groaned. "Ugh. It just feels like he doesn't care about all the effort I put in for everyone. He just casually criticizes my cooking like it's nothing, like I do it out of some sort of obligation! Like, I don't have to stay here, if I really didn't care I would've just up and left years ago! Why can't he see that?"

"Hmm." She thought for a moment. "Well, if I were you I'd show him the process of actually cooking the food rather than just giving it to him. It's easier for him to insult your creation because all he's seeing is the stuff on the plate, and not the hard work behind it, if that makes sense." Two swirled their tea like a wine glass. "Hmm… well, I guess it does. I'll see if it-"

The room suddenly shook violently, like a bomb had gone off and decimated one of the hotel's floors. The quaking lunged Two back in their seat, their drink splashing in their face and staining their bow. Whipped cream splutted like a cream pie in a circus act. "Oh shoot!" Gaty exclaimed. She stood up, hastily opening the closet. "You want me to grab a cloth, or some paper towels, or somethi-" She stopped when she turned back to look at them. She didn't know if their face had turned red from the sprinkles or the unbridled anger burning within them. It wouldn't take long for her to find out.

Winner stared at the portal, eyeing it to make sure everybody would fit, before hearing a flurry of muffled yet very loud curses from upstairs. "That's not good."

"RUN!" Shrieked Naily, speeding into the portal like a mouse into a hole. Taggy followed suit, then Nickel, then Bomby, then Cake. Book trailed last but stopped inches away from the portal, still extremely hesitant. "I-I can't decide! It just doesn't feel right yet!" Winner telekenetically floated some parts toward them. "Well you're gonna have to be quick if you wanna join the other five, I need to cover this up!" Book stared back at the deep, whirling maw before her… wait, did they say other five? There weren't only five other people on Just Not!

"PILLOW!" Cried Book. She'd forgotten all about her! Her heart sank. Pillow was already a hazard with her teammates around, who knows what would happen if she were left alone? She ran back up to Winner. "Winner I need you to throw me up to Pillow's room so I can take her with me!" "Huh? Book, I really don't have the time…" "You have to! Th- the lives of the contestants are at stake!" "…Book, are you going to go or-" "THROW ME!" She snapped, overpowering anything Winner had said or would say.

Book barrelled through the window into Pillow's room. Her eyes dashed around the pastel walls and contrastingly bloody splatters before spotting her, to her left. She appeared to be polishing an inanimate object of some kind. "Pillow, you have to co-" "I don't have a weapon," Pillow said, calmly. She snuck whatever she had in her sheets before turning around, giving a suspiciously contented smile. Book stared. "…Uh huh. Pillow, you have to come with me!" She grabbed her and leapt back out the window, instantly regretting not thinking things through. "Are we playing Yoylebungee again?" Asked Pillow, naively. "You forgot the rope." Book screamed her lungs out as the two fell down, down, down… Winner rushed to catch them both in their hand, throwing them in the portal just in time for them to close it off.

Two stomped around the corner. "WHAT IS GOING ON- Oh." They stopped in their tracks when they saw Winner, resting their arm against a vending machine shakily. The discomfort in their wide, crooked smile could be seen from a mile away. It created an uncomfortable vibe topped off by their worried, dilating eyes and furrowing brows. The air whistled between the two for a good few seconds, leaving silence so loud you could hear their muscles contract.

"Oh, hey Two, didn't see you there," Winner spoke hastily as they paced toward them, "sorry if I made a racket, darn vending machines stealing your money, rah! rah! rah! Really tests your temper, don't it?" They nudged the number slightly with their hand, "Hahaha, I suppose you'll be leaving now." Two waved their hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait, it stole your money?" They noted. Winner's pupils shrunk. "Oh, uhh, Two, you really don't have to-" "Well why didn't you just say something? I'd be happy to help you get it back!" Before they could get a sentence out, Two was already inspecting the vending machine for issues. "Let's see here… ew, five dollars for vanilla Dr. Fizz?" They rolled their eyes. "Stop." Winner cringed. When this was over they were gonna be owed enough favors to speedrun ten birthdays.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes. Her head was swimming in a pool of nausea and stress. Had it been a dream? Could all this talk of portals and higher worlds be blamed on unconscious neurons firing alone? Naily stood over her, frowning worriedly. "Gee whiz, are you okay?" Book groaned as she slowly rubbed her temple with her paws. Her head throbbed against their eyes so much she felt like they were going to pop out. Pillow rushed over to her. "Perhaps she's dead. Book, are you dead? Say 'yes' if you're dead." Book sat up, mumbling to herself. "AH! ZOMBIE!" Cried Bomby, as he grabbed a rusty hammer from beside him and swung hysterically. "ZOMBIEEEEEEEE!"

"BOMBY I'M ALIVE!" Shrieked Book, widening her eyes. She slumped over, eyelids squinting as she blinked repeatedly. "I'm alive," she clarified. "I'm awake… where are we?" Cake looked around. The seven were surrounded by large, worn-down buildings, covered with graffiti and offensive etchings. An opening in front of them gave way to what looked like a street; that and the blisteringly bright sun above them were the only sources of light in what was otherwise a dark open tunnel. He certainly didn't want to be here at night. "Looks like…" "It's an alleyway." Pillow interrupted. "I didn't know we were going to the real world." Book stood up. "No, the real world is back- whatever. We've seen it. Can we go home now?!" "What? No way!" Nickel perked. "We only just got here, let's have a look around!"

NO!" She shouted. "Err, uhh, I mean, what about all the fun things we can do here in the alleyway? Like calculating the total worth of all of its many things!" "Three dollars," answered Price Tag, who represented the value on their face. "Hahahaha, that helps!" Book lied, glaring at them. "or, we could play Interdimensional Red Rover! I'll start." She made a mad dash for the portal, speeding forward and crashing into the back of a machine.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes.

Pillow was quick to interrupt her reverie, grabbing her and flipping her back into a standing position. "That's better," she hummed. Book was dazed but at least she was still conscious. "Urgh… Wait, what am I still doing here!?" She cried as her gaze met the portal. She fixated particularly on the giant contraption blocking her path. "Wh- what's THAT doing here?! Why is this happening!?"

"Your companions probably punished you for not following the rules," Pillow assumed. "They didn't even call you on over." "They didn't even call her on over," Naily whispered to Taggy. She walked up to the portal and threw a lone pebble at it. It banged off the back of the machine and flew threw a window. "Yup, that's blocking us off alright." "So we're trapped?!" Cake yelped, fearfully. Price Tag attempted to comfort him. "Aww, don't say that, Cake! I'd say it's more like very heavy encouragement to stay." "That's all we really can do, isn't it…" Cake conceded.

The group was silent for a moment. "Well…" Naily lingered as she raised a paw. "The only missed shot you can shoot is an unshooted shot, ain't it?" She started walking off, Price Tag following close behind. The others shrugged, following in her footsteps. Book was so distracted trying to interpret Naily's phrase that by the time she could muster up a response, she and the rest of the group had already left.

Book paced up to them, "Wait, you're all just leaving?" She cried. "You can't! Shouldn't you try and break the wall down, or something? We're gonna get lost!" "Don't worry, we'll go back," Price Tag assured. "We're just exploring first!" "No. Taggy, no! This isn't as simple as 'exploring', we have no idea what this place looks like, or where everything is, or how big everything is, if we lose sight of this alleyway we won't find our way back and we'll lose EVERYTHING! Cake, you just got back with Loser after years of not seeing each other and now you're willing to abandon him?!" The color began to drain from his face. Guilt began to wash over him. "Well…"

Naily stepped forward to interject. "Book, you couldn't even break it down with your full body weight. Would you rather invest all your time in a lost cause or use what time you have in this new world to take a risk? Look," she flipped Book open to tear off a blank page, "You can scribble important information down on this and when we find something that can break down the structure, we'll go back! It solves itself!" Book sighed as she rubbed her temple. If she was so sure... "I really hope you know what you're doing. Do you have a pen?"

Just Not walked casually through the street, Book sketching important details and sign names on her pages in case they got lost. Cake was quick to notice how uncanny all of this world's inhabitants looked: their faces had strange lumps beneath their mouths and eyes, and odd, patterned shapes on both sides of their heads. He assumed these were arms. Almost all of them towered over the group, some taller than Bomby and Book combined. Their eyes were rich with detail and color, almost all of them staring back at Cake with an atmosphere of judgement and suspicion.

He felt his cheeks turn pink. Did they hate him? Did he do something wrong? He'd clearly done something wrong. Why else would they keep looking at him?! "Looks like these guys haven't seen an object before," Naily hummed, derailing his train of thought. "Everyone looks so… same-ey." Nickel whispered. "How do they tell each other apart?" Cake sighed. At least his friends were somewhat on the same page, even if they didn't completely share his mindset.

"This place doesn't look like it has what we're looking for," observed Pillow. "Well maybe we just need to dive deeper!" Taggy eyed the crowd and picked whoever they thought was nicest. They scuttered up to them, making a ^.^ and striking a kind pose. "'Scuse me, sir! Me and my buddies were just looking for some caviar, and you look like the kinda guy who'd know their stuff about that."

"I don't," they replied, briskly. "Ah, well, we've all got room to learn. But could ya redirect us to someone who knows where we can find any? My gray weezerino over here could really go for some sevruga." They dragged Nickel towards them.

"Sevruga?" The man pondered. "Sounds Russian. You'll probably need a plane ticket, or something."

Nickel broke free from Taggy's grasp. "Does it cost money?" He said, playing along with Taggy's cool guy persona. "Because I happen to be pretty experienced in the field of things worth five cents or under, if you catch my drift."

The man was silent for a moment. "If you can't afford it, you can also drive," they muttered. "Through the sea. You'd have to hold your breath for a while, though."

Book cringed at the reminder. "Aaaaand that's where we'll end things for now! Thanks anyway!" She nudged Nickel, cueing everyone to speedwalk away.

The man was left with his thoughts. His inner monologue began to scold him. "Damn it, Barack, you should've gone with them. They seemed nice, even if they were cosplaying as random objects." He sighed as he pulled out a special red, white and blue senzu bean. You'd think a former president, let alone a Saiyan, would be better at talking to people, but here he was. Alone, and about as awkward as a worm in a spider club. "What an Obummer," he mumbled as he popped it in his mouth, letting the chemicals and sudden nutrition wash the regret and loneliness away.

Just Not walked for what seemed like ages, the ever-expanding list of turns, streets and stops growing harder and harder for Book to remember. Whatever part of the journey they were up to now, it certainly didn't look like the beginning. Most of the buildings now were more than two hotels high, a far cry from the quaint forts just a couple blocks back.

Book wondered if her team were actually serious about walking all the way out to the ocean just so they could go to this "Russia" place. Finally having enough, she decided to speak up. "Hey, guys, uhh… are we going to do anything other than walking while we're here?"

Pillow looked around, before catching something in the glimpse of her eye. "We can drive!" She chirped, pointing off to the distance. The others looked: a large, black vehicle stood before them. It was chunky, sleek, and surely big enough to fit everyone. It led a trail of multiple similar cars, all empty and parked in front of a beautiful hotel, one of the tallest in the street.

Book groaned. She had to start wording things better.

Price Tag inspected the vehicle. "Hmmm… doesn't look very seaworthy." "Plus, if we're going to steal it," Naily lowered her voice to a whisper, "we'd have to take out the guards first."

She pointed to two flags, waving proudly on the front end of the van. Nobody recognized either of them. Naily winked at Bomby, who raised a hand, gesturing everyone to stand back. The others were still, as he breathed in. He leapt forth, landing quietly in front of the trunk, before wiggling his fingers and slicing them through both flagpoles at once. The flags slid clean off, landing in his palms.

"THAT SHOULD BE BOTH OF THEM," He shrilled.

The others were impressed. Naily cheered eccentrically, whistling and wooing loudly like she'd just seen pigs fly. "Wasn't that the coolest thing you've ever seen!?" She yelled. "Alright, now let's get in the car!"

Everyone obliged, Naily hastily shuffling into the driver's seat and grabbing onto the wheel. "Oh, uhh, Naily, I think it would be better if I drive this time." Book cautioned, eyeing the pawless pedals. "Why's that?" Naily responded, smiling at her mindlessly. "Oh, it's just, y'know, I have…" She stopped herself before she could say "arms". She remembered a late night bar conversation she had with a very drunk Snowball, who was unfortunate enough to bring up that subject around her.

"It was terrifying," he moped as he chugged down another shot glass. "All I wanted was to join her team. I was nice. I did nothing wrong. I told them they seemed like nice people, even if they were weak and armless." His eyes widened with sorrow as they stared off into space. The memories hit him like a shovel, jabbing into the nerves of his emotions and digging tears out of his cold, almost dead eyes. "And then, out of nowhere…" He whined, his voice cracking in pitch. He turned to Book suddenly and grabbed her shoulders. "She owned me!" He cried, shaking her hysterically. Book could see the fear and vulnerability in his pupils as they dilated and shook. "She owned me! SHE OWNED ME! SHE OWNED ME, BOOK! I WAS OWNED! SHE OWNED ME!"

She didn't quite know what "owned" meant in this case, no matter how many times it was repeated. But if famous tough-guy Snowball was afraid to get on Naily's bad side, chances were Book should very much avoid that path as well.

"…a very strong drivers' spirit!" She finished. "Mine's stronger," Naily grinned. "C'mon, Price Tag, you take the pedals!" "On it!" They saluted, sitting comfortably beneath her. Book sighed as she moved to the back seat, while Bomby took passenger's. If anything went wrong she wouldn't be to blame.

After a bit of fumbling with the ignition and figuring out how four people would fit in two seats, the car started and the group were off. Nickel could barely make out someone glaring at them from inside the building, but he didn't care. This was a whole new experience for him! He shuffled his feet, making sure that they didn't damage Cake's frosting as he sat on top of him.

Book, meanwhile, sat directly in front of Pillow, whose arms wrapped around her in a spooning position. Pillow, ironically, was very passionate about keeping herself safe. She was the only one in the car, aside from Cake, who had strapped themselves in, and had even encouraged Book to share the seatbelt with her. She denied, nonetheless. She didn't need it on such a casual drive, and would hate to make either of them uncomfortable with a tight squeeze.

Naily stared at all the viewers, and they stared back. They'd been doing that a lot, hadn't they? Was it the van this time? She couldn't understand why it'd be such a spectacle to them, what with its all black coloring and rather uninteresting interior. Perhaps these viewers were just very easy to excite. Their brains would probably implode if they saw something with as much visual noise as the Freesmart Supervan, she thought.

Her brows quickly furrowed into a frown when she saw a series of billboards looming over the rest of the town. They all had the same image plastered over them: a creature, presumably a viewer, smiling smugly at the camera, in a confident, commanding pose. Underneath them, a series of stripes and a string of bolded, instructional text:

"Vote Ron DeSantis for presidential reelection, November 2028. A stronger government, a stronger America."

Naily scoffed. She hadn't even made it past her own team's first elimination, and here this guy was, plastering their mug everywhere trying to get people to vote for them twice? As if one victory wasn't enough? Something about it made her blood boil. It wasn't like their silly campaign would even work, anyway, none of the billboards even had letters or square brackets.

She saw some viewers in blue uniforms ripping a much smaller poster off a building: it had similar messaging, but the colors and figure looked different. Most likely it was endorsing someone else, encouraging viewers to vote for an opponent or a teammate. The blue uniformed viewers tore it off, ripping it to bits, before throwing what was left on the ground.

Whoever these contestants were the prize they were battling for must've been really elusive if it meant they were willing to hire their own personal goons. What prize could somehow be more enticing than limitless power? Why were these people so desperate to win it? Just a viewer thing, she guessed. As if object traditions were any less weird.

"So what do you all wanna do first?" Nickel inquired. "Ooh, let's see if they have a beauty salon!" Taggy smirked. "I'd personally LOVE to get my nails done." "That's funny," said Naily. "Thank you. But really, wasn't the plan to get something to eat?" "Didn't you hear the guy before?" Cake butted in. "The caviar we're looking for is probably 2763 canals away." "That doesn't mean we can't try something else!" Nickel replied. "Yeah! Let's see if they have any cool restaurants 'round here." As if on cue, Pillow looked out the window, immediately noticing a sign that stood out from the others. "How does Burger King sound?"

The rest of her team turned their attention to the restaurant. The bright and colorful branding of the logo enticed all of them. The word "burger" implied food, meat. A meal they could all share; the word "king" implied either medieval decadence or supremacy, as if the cooks here were the metaphorical kings of all burgers, delivering quality unmatched by any other chain.

"Don't mind if I do," Naily muttered under her breath as she turned the car around and moved into the Drive Thru. She knew how this kind of thing worked from her team's many late night visits to Gelatin's Steakhouse, but the experience of being in the driver's seat for once was almost surreal in a way. "So what do you all want?" She asked, flinching at the unnatural feeling of those words spilling out of her own mouth.

One by one, everyone listed off what they wanted. Being the only photosynthetic creature among them, Price Tag jokingly asked for a torch.

Naily rolled down the window and forwarded the message to the speaker, whose gritty and bitcrushed voice directed them to the next window. She did so, reaching what appeared to be the restaurant's kitchen and playing Where's Woody with her order as she stared through the window.

"Oh, there's other cooks. Do you want me to take care of them?" Asked Pillow, innocently. "No, it's fine." Naily replied, not knowing exactly what that meant. She tapped the wheel mindlessly as boredom began to set in. The group was left in awkward silence for a brief moment. "Let's listen to some music!" Pillow chimed in, again. She shoved Book off her and reached into the front seat, clicking the radio on. The scratchy, radical voice echoed through the car's walls. "And next up on our totally tubular 2000s throwback, 'This is Such a Pity' by Weezer!"

Pillow appeared to recognize the name, and showing more emotion in that moment than throughout the rest of the trip, she frowned slightly and clicked the radio back off. "Silence also has its perks." As awkwardness descended upon the vehicle, each member of Just Not silently waited for another to speak up, spark a conversation and break the tension.

"How would we kiss?" Price Tag inquired.

Naily raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What? M…me?" "Yeah," They looked up at her and smiled casually. "How would we kiss?" "Uhhh…" She was confused more than anything. Hadn't she already kissed them plenty of times before? "You mean…" She moved to give Price Tag a casual yet loving smooch on their forehead. They chuckled as their face began to warm slightly. They didn't expect her to demonstrate, but weren't complaining. "Oh, nah, heheheh, I mean more…" Their voice grew quiet. "more deeper than that, if that makes sense."

"Oh." Naily's face lit up. "OH, you mean, like, you wanna make out? Like…" She looked out the window, then back to them. "…like now?" They silently nodded, making a bashful <:].

She frowned, sympathetically. "Oh, Taggy, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but you don't exactly have a… 'mouth' mouth, do you? There's not much for me to work with…" They matched their expression, a disappointed :(. She was correct. Price Tag did technically have a mouth but it lacked any depth and couldn't be used for anything other than talking and making faces. The closest thing they could get to tasting anything was their antennae, which they used to drink water and absorb light energy for nutrition. Using that would be unbelievably awkward, though…

"If there isn't a way," they technically lied, "can we at least pretend?" Naily smiled. That she could do. Turning them down at this point would just be cruel. "Oh, alright," she grinned, playfully rolling her eyes. "C'mere." She pulled Price Tag towards her for a kiss. They let out an adorable EEK! as their "lips" met Naily's.

Within seconds the LARP kissing session was in full swing, much to the chagrin of Nickel who looked on in partial disgust. Despite being on their team, he hadn't seen the two interact much, especially not with such blatant intimacy. "Ugh, somebody needs to get a room. Are they always like this?" He hissed to Bomby.

"YEP," he beamed. He could confirm what with how close the three had grown since Naily's return from years of separation. The long-distance relationship they were forced to adapt to after TPOT 5 didn't exactly scratch their mutual itch to be in each others arms. The current sight brought back a particularly pleasant memory from more recent times:

When the show ended and they finally had a chance to reunite, the three had all built up such a desire to give affection to one another that the first thing they did as soon as they made physical contact was hug for three straight days. Sometimes, Bomby would do some footwork, carrying them into their room and grabbing drinks or food, all while not breaking the hug of course. But for the most part, those blissful 75 hours were spent doing nothing but chatting, snuggling, relaxing, and watching random shows on TV. Oh, the way they all cackled watching the Exitors' real time fandubs and hilariously bad reruns of the Object Bang Theory…

Since that faithful day, one would rarely be seen without the two others. The closest they got to splitting was when they chose to sit at different tables, over an argument regarding how to spell fortnite, a period of two weeks, which was resolved later that morning. But aside from that, they were strung together like a sowed blanket. Or, rather, welded together like three small Lego pieces, pressed together with ease and virtually impossible to be separated from that point onward.

Naily slowly moved backwards as she stared into her lovers eyes. "You're so beautiful," she hummed. Price Tag chuckled sheepishly as their blush deepened, before gazing off to their left. "Naily…" "Yes, honey?" She pulled them closer. "She's here…" "Yeah, I'm here…" She wrapped her paws around them in a hug. "I'm so sorry I ever left you…" "No, I mean…" They frowned. "At the window. Our order's here." Naily looked to see someone with bags of food. "SHOOT!" She cried as she dropped Price Tag and scrambled to look natural. "We'll, uhh, be taking our food now, thanks!" She smirked, nervously.

The worker was uninterested. "Uh-huh," She muttered tiredly as she handed the bags of food over to her customer, who grabbed on to them with what she thought were really large gloves. She didn't know what it was with these kids and their weird ass fashion trends but at this point she was so exhausted that she couldn't bother to care. Working 16 straight hours without a wink of rest had taken its toll and all she wanted was to get this last bunch of customers over with so she could end her shift. "Will that be cash or credit?" She sighed.

Naily blinked. "What?" "Cash or credit?" The cashier repeated. "How are you going to pay for your order?" Nickel stood up and slid over to the front. "Oh, I think I see what this guy's deal is. Check this out!" He flopped face-first onto the counter. The cashier stared down at him, then up at Naily, who stared back with an inattentive grin. "…Is that a nickel?" The unamused cashier mumbled. "The one and only!" She confirmed. "Okay. This is five cents," she said, blankly. "Your order is $104.86." "Uhhh, actually it's worth much more than meets the eye!" Book interjected, trying to stop a conflict before it could begin. She scrambled to make something up, "It's a one of a kind, uhhh… Nicko…min…ator, the last of its species!"

"What? No I'm not!" "Oh yeah, you are!" Price Tag >:]'d, sticking to the bit. "He's only one of the highest priced thingamajigs on the market!" They wrapped their string around him and fibbed the highest value they could count to. "check it, 8 whole bucks!"

Book facepalmed. Cake grew worried. "Wait, are we really gonna just leave him here?" "It's fine," said Pillow. "There's other ones." The cashier raised an eyebrow. "So he's not one of a kind? W-Whatever, we can't accept this. If you can't afford to pay for your order I'm afraid you'll have to return it." "Well," sighed Nickel as he stood up, "I know when I'm beat."

"Now just hold on, Nickel…" Naily flicked him back over on his back. "I think I can make this work. Here, I'll write you a check." She opened the glove compartment and grabbed a paper slip. She scribbled something down and slapped it on the counter, sliding it over to the cashier, who was too tired to realize she couldn't accept that as payment either.

She picked up the slip and was met with a crudely written note, "Distraction". "DRIVE!" Shouted Naily. By the time the cashier had realized what was going on, her group of dine-and-dashers had already sped off, with the food, but without the odd nickel cosplayer that still lay on her desk. "They're gone, aren't they?" He asked. Wendy sighed. Trillions of entities in the universe and none of them wanted to give her a single fucking break. She pressed a button at the top of the room, "Code 2762 at 1:15," before resting her chin on the bar and waiting to be allowed to leave. "You got anything you wanna kill time with?" She slurred to the coin costumed fellow. "Uhhh…" He thought of an interesting conversation topic. "I cranked a machine once."

"What are you doing?!" Cried Cake as he watched the Burger King fade away from his vision. "He's still in there! NICKEL'S STILL IN THE RESTAURANT!" "Oh yeah… Well, the only option to get him back I can think of is to go through the Drive Thru again, and that's gonna need a lotta quick maneuvering now that we've burned bridges." Naily searched through the bags for some fries. "How about we eat first? Can't have good reflexes on an empty stomach!" Price Tag looked up at her. "I thought you already ate?" "But these are better for the brain," replied Naily as she stuffed a pawful of fries in her mouth. "Potatoes and all. Not as high in mercury." "Ah, that's fair."

Naily handed a fry over to Book, who handed it over to Cake. "You want this one, Cake?" "I'll eat when we get home," he muttered, quietly, as Book took the fry back and ate it. He was too pertubed to dwell on food. How could anybody not be pertubed knowing one of their friends was accidentally left behind? How was nobody freaking out?! Book could see he was fearful, almost to the point of tears. "Cake? Are you feeling alright?"

"We left him behind…" He weeped. "We abandoned him! We're never gonna see him again!" Book felt guilt wash over her. "Oh, don't say that! You know he's just a few blocks away." She rubbed his back. "Look, I know our teammates are a bit… erratic, at times, but they still care deeply about their friends, don't they? They'd never do something that out of line if they weren't sure it'd end up alright in the end." He sniffed. "But what abo-"

"Shh," Pillow hushed as she slid into the front seat, pointing onto the window. "Look over there," she exclaimed, cueing everyone to look in her direction. It was the same hotel where Naily had found the car. Pillow was particularly fixating on a suited man standing outside, who appeared particularly livid for whatever reason. He was kicking and screaming, jumping up and down in unabashed fury. "Isn't that the guy from the poster?" Taggy pointed out.

"Oh yeah," Naily replied. "Ron whacha call it. Gosh, his face's practically turning red. Pillow, try reading his lips!"

Pillow rolled down the window and peeked her head out, curling her hands around her eyes to mimic binoculars. She spoke in a monotone voice. "-idiots, I don't care who you are, I am the President. If you don't get it back in five seconds, you can tell your kids they won't be having a christmas… look, there they are, that's my car, those assholes stole my car, shoot them, shoot them."

"PILLOW!" Cried Book, who pulled her down just in time to miss the flurry of bullets coursing through the windows. Everyone followed suit as gunshots flurried through the car; the bullet-proof glass was strong, but the government's exclusive top-model NERF guns were stronger. When the noise fell silent, Naily perked back up. "Whew, that was close. You guys all good?" "Not mentally," Book whimpered. "We have one casualty…" Cake spoke, crestfallen as he held up a soda cup. Liquid bled out of the gaping bullethole in its middle, pouring through the front and back ends. Taggy giggled. "Heh. Well, if an object got shot today, I'm sure glad it wasn't one with a face. Huh, Naily?" They looked up at her, frowning when she didn't humor their playful quip.

"Naily? Are you OK, buddy?" Her eyes were wide, blank, empty, yet filled with despair. Invisible tears fell down her face, sliding down to the corners of her mouth, a small frown with lips that covered her clenched, grinding teeth, as if to give but a glimpse at her interior rage. Price Tag's face formed semicolons. They'd never seen her like this. "Slow down." Naily hissed at their partner, who understood quickly. They eased pressure on the pedal as Naily slowly turned around, the vehicle creeping onto the sidewalk.

"Wait for my signal…" She carefully waited for non-target pedestrians to clear the runway. Book began to connect the dots. Her heart sank. "Naily, it's just a cup, whatever you're gonna do, don't do it!"

"Brake…" Bomby fastened his seatbelt. Those gunmen had really done it now; there was no stopping Naily at this point. Whatever was about to happen, was about to happen. "RAM IT!"

The car shot forward. Onlookers screamed and leapt out of the way as the vehicle sped towards the clique of suits. The self-proclaimed President's jaw dropped in horror as the cadillac careened towards his body. His ear-splitting scream was cut off with a loud, painful crunch, his body crashing into the windshield, his nose breaking and his arm bones forced to twist into unnatural angles. His face flattened from the sheer force, like something one would see out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. It quickly slipped downwards leaving only a trail of blood, which was quickly cleaned off with the wipers. The body fell under the tires as they crushed out what little life remained in the corpse.

"Aw yeah!" Cheered Taggy as they gave Naily a high-five. Book's jaw was agape. "That was… you just…" "Now that Big Red's been taken care of, let's get Nickel back!" She flicked the radio back on instinctively, and like something out of a cheesy movie, a song began on cue. "Look at this photograph," the speakers blared. Pillow barely bat an eye. She clearly didn't mind this song as much.

Nickel flailed his legs around. "And it's just, she does nothing, while I toil and toil and toil for some stupid recovery center that doesn't even work after a while!" Wendy was attentive to the story the stranged coin costumed fellow was telling. She didn't think it was real, at all, but anything to keep her awake while she waited for management to let her leave.

He stood up and started gesturing wildly with his feet, "Flumple dumple smordledorf, it was degrading! Like, I was reduced to a cranking slave, crank crank crack 'till the sky goes black." He sat back down with a huff. "Why didn't you just, like… stop?" Wendy asked. "What?" "Like, just stop cranking. If you feel, like… degraded, or whatever it was, why keep doing something you hate, y'know?"

And let his friends die? He quickly grew defensive. "Oh yeah, well…" He stuttered, struggling to come up with a comeback. "Why don't you… stop… your thing?!" She fell silent. Nickel's response was cheap, and poorly delivered, but something about it resonated with her in a way she couldn't describe. Could she really do that? Just stop doing her job for a while because it strained her mental health to the point of splinters? Then again, money was tight… She furrowed her eyebrows. "You do your whatever, I do mine," she dismissed vaguely.

A car swept by, as the dine and dashing group from before grabbed Nickel by the foot and pulled him back into the car. Taking back a tip? Now that was low… not that he was, actually, a coin of course. Was he? Whatever, he was gone anyway, but his idea remained…

Cake grabbed onto Nickel and hugged him tightly, as he sobbed hysterically. "NICKEL I'M SO SORRY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH I WAS SO WORRIED I'D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN," He spouted, as he peppered him with platonic kisses. Nickel shut his eyes, shielding them from the brown smooch marks appearing all across his body. He was glad Cake loved him enough to fear for his safety, he just wished he wasn't caught so off guard. "Thanks, but I was kinda in the middle of something…"

"Well that doesn't matter, now," Naily said as she swung the car back onto the road, then into the nearest parking lot. "You must be starving after all that waiting! Here…" She took the items that weren't fries out of the bag. Those were for later. She threw a cheeseburger at Nickel, some nuggets at Cake, a 'whopper' at Bomby, an ice cream at Pillow, a salad at Book, and took the kids meal for herself. The plastic toy inside, presumably inedible to her, was given to Taggy; an astronaut of some kind, with Toy Story 7 branding, they were merely estatic that it eminated light of any kind for them to, quote unquote, "eat".

Nickel stared into the burger, his focus blotting out all other senses. This was it. The purpose of the entire trip, to get at least a taste of viewers' world food. With great carefulness, he moved the food toward his mouth and bit into it, his teeth digging into the papery outer layer, the soft, warm bread, and the juicy, succulent meat. He thinks he forgot a step, but it doesn't matter. He's eating now, and he can finally taste the higher realm.

But something about it feels off, artificial. Less personal than Two's cooking. It tasted better, obviously, but what it had in flavour it lacked in heart. There is no love, no passion to be tasted, rather, homogenized corporate fluff.

His train of thought was derailed by a series of blasting sirens, fading in from in front of him. "W…what's that?" Pillow looked to the front window for the source of the noise. There, crawling over the horizon, were a flock of cars speeding their way. Atop their rooves were sirens, flashing red and blue. "Oh, I know these guys! They're feds." She turned to Naily, smiling. "They're probably angry at us because we killed their leader. We should drive. Now." She got the memo, forwarding the message to Taggy, who floored the pedal and swerved the car onto the road. The chase was on.

The car bulleted down the path, dashing away from the persuing police. Onlookers gasped as sirens whined throughout the street, dispatch after dispatch chasing the rogue presidential cadillac. Many scrambled for their phones to take pictures of the incident, eager to document perhaps one of the strangest events in U.S. political history.

One enemy car managed to catch up with Just Not, preparing to throw them off course. Ram! Nickel flew off Cake, hitting the back of the driver's seat before collapsing onto the floor. "Oh dear!" Book cried as she stood to pick him up. Ram! The car surged forward. Book was thrown out of her seat, pages aflutter. Pillow, who was restrained by her seatbelt, took notice. "You seem to be having trouble with one of the drivers," She observed. "Do you want me to take care of them?" "Y-yeah, sure, do what you can!" Book groaned as she rubbed her temple. Ram! The car swerved from left to right. Naily struggled to keep balance, frantically trying to stop the car from spinning. Taggy twisted into awkward positions in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pedal. Bomby gripped onto the grab handle, failing to curb his panic. "WE'RE GONNA DIE!" He screamed. Ram! Like a kick in an already bruised chest, the car was shoved again. "HURRY!" Cried Bomby. When Book finally managed to regain composure she could make out Pillow reaching for the back of her covers, pulling out a large, black shape. Her eyes widened. "I-is that a…" Ram! Book shrieked as she fell back onto the floor. Pillow rolled down the window, unfazed.

"I lied, earlier." She said, as she unbuckled, and took aim. "I have a gun."

Right as the car was about to ram again, Pillow fired a spray of bullets, which burst through the enemy's windshield and caused the car to swerve away in surprise. It turned sharply to the left, spinning directly into a building, which collapsed on top of it in a fiery explosion. "BURN IN HELL, YOU CAPITALIST PIG DOGS!" Cried Pillow.

Naily saw the car fade away, and sighed in relief. The feeling vanished as she saw a sharp curve in the road. "We're about to turn!" She shouted. Pillow noted, grabbing onto the grab handle and using the velocity from the vehicle's swing to fling herself onto the back trunk. She used one hand to cling onto the window, and the other to hold onto the gun. Bullets fired hysterically at the cops as they swerved, desperately trying to dodge the storm of gunfire while keeping chase with the criminals.

"How are we going to get home?!" Cake panicked as he pulled Nickel in for a protective hug. "I don't know!" Naily snapped. "The alleyway could be anywhere!" Book facepalmed. Her cover was starting to redden from the amount of times she had slapped it these past few hours. Taggy made a <:[. "Book, weren't you keeping directions?!" "Me?!" Book replied. "Oh, yeah, me, uhh…" She scrambled across the floor. That page couldn't have gone too far, could it?

After a few seconds of searching and a quick buildup of fear, she finally found the page. She sighed as she sat back in her seat and buckled up, scanning the pages for any valuable information. In spite of how rushed it was, it felt surprisingly comprehensible. "Okay, do you know where Barnes Street is?" "No!" Naily responded, before seeing a street sign. "Yes!" "Okay, turn right there…"

Pillow felt herself slide sharply to her left, flipping over onto her front as she struggled to maintain her grip on the rim. She found herself awkwardly shifting onto her right as she tried to get a good look at the pack of feds, still following her with intent to kill. If they didn't recognise her before, they certainly recognised her now.

She was running low on ammo, and if she wanted to permanently get rid of the threat, she'd have to change tactics. She looked up. A helicopter flew above them at an almost safe distance. She assumed it belonged to a news station, of some sort. Stupid spies, probably broadcasting this live for the whole world to see, like it was any of their business. At least in BFDI there was a chance to edit some of the more personal things out. She took aim.

She unexpectedly swerved back to her right, this time almost falling off the car. Her feet slid off the trunk, and for the moment, she thought she would end up skidding onto the road, meeting an untimely end as her cover was ripped to shreds. Yet, thankfully, a swift swerve sent her back to the uncomfortable, yet safer position she was in before, and she, once again, took aim.

"OK, now you're gonna wanna stick to this road for a couple more metres!" Book instructed. Naily obliged, using this time to glare at the car coming up to her right. It slowly gained on her, and she anticipated another ramming. But instead, the driver rolled down the window and poked their head out to talk to her.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA," they shouted, over the unending howls of the wind. "HOW FAST YOU'RE GOING?!" Naily rolled down her window. "NO," she remarked, "I CAN'T READ." "I'M GOING TO NEED TO SEE YOUR LICENSE AND REGISTRATION!" She rolled her eyes, pulling out an I.D. from who knows where and sticking her paw out to give it to them. They grabbed it and read its label, a single, crudely written word: "Distraction". Looking up from the note, they were barely given enough time to react to the car in front of them, and with a painful crash, they demolished the entire front of their car, and practically their entire body. "Naily 2, Viewers 0!" Cheered Taggy.

After skillful shooting at the helicopter's rotors, Pillow watched the fireworks. The machine barreled down uncontrollably, spiralling into the police herd and colliding with a loud, dramatic explosion, which sent debris flying even in her close vicinity. The bright orange light soon faded, leaving only piles of rust and rubble. Pillow sighed in relief, and swerved back into the car. That spectacle was worth the world. "Uhh, guys, I think we missed," Cake muttered as he pointed to the bright neon "alleyway" sign that they had just sped past. That must've been where we came from, Book thought as she facepalmed.

To make matters worse, Bomby could see another herd of cars speeding towards them. "TURN! TURN!" He shouted. Naily swerved around, this time heading in the opposite direction. Her stomach dropped when she saw a pile of cars blocking her path. "Well, we're done for." said Nickel. "Taggy, brake!" Naily commanded. Much to her surprise, they didn't. "Price Tag, brake!" "No, we can't!" They snapped. "You can make it through this, you ran over that guy, you can run through a couple cars!"

Their words were kind, if not poorly timed considering the circumstances. Nethertheless, she trusted them enough to play along. She angled herself towards the alleyway and shut her eyes, hoping with all her might that they were correct and she would push through the piles of cars. It was either that, or nothing.

By now, a crowd of almost every object in the hotel had gathered around the vending machine. Green tape was set up near the area, so nobody but those willing to try and fix it could cross. Surprisingly, after so many hours, nobody could seem to understand what was wrong with the vending machine, or how they could get Winner's "money" back. Not even Golf Ball could fix the issue.

Snowball, one of the only objects who hadn't previously showed up, stepped proudly in to the fray. He strutted down the cleared line, "You're all stumped by a vending machine? Pathetic! I can fix something like that in seconds," He boomed, shoving Golf Ball out of the way, "because I have arms!"

"No, stop, don't." Said Winner, sarcastically. He breathed in, then out, as he stretched his arms towards the vending machine. "Open sesame!"

Nothing happened. Everyone was silent for a brief few seconds. Snowball took another deep breath. "Open sesa-"

The car burst through the machine, flattening Snowball in the process. It flipped over repeatedly as the other objects rushed to get out of the way, Winner particularly growing afraid as their once dimmed fears were quickly rekindled. Finally, it settled, resting on its back.

One by one, Just Not climbed out of the vehicle. Naily, realizing that she wasn't dead, leapt around in celebration and cheered. Seeing Taggy, she leapt into their legs estatically, giving them multiple swift kisses and thanks. Their string began to wag again as the affection extinguished their uneasiness. They made a ^w^, their voice cracking as they cheered giddily that they were both okay, and they didn't think twice before reciprocating her hug as they wrapped their legs around hers tightly. Soon afterwards they were joined by Bomby, who pulled both of them in for a group hug. "OHMAGOSH! NAILY! TAGGY!" He cried, as the group barrel-rolled forward in excitement.

Soon after they were joined by Cake, who was glad to see his friends were alright, then Nickel, then Book, then Pillow…

"Just Not?!" Cried Two, as they all stopped to look at them. "Where have you been? We've been trying to fix this ve-" They froze when they turned around to see a giant, green portal. They were left in a paralyzing state of shock, their jaw agape as they stared at the wormhole.

"The real world," they slowly turned to the team. "You went to the real world."

Price Tag sighed, as they stepped forward. "I guess there's no denying it any longer." They shut their eyes into a U_U. "It was Winner. Winner forced us to go." They recoiled. "T-Taggy!" "Winner! You mean you were in on this?!" They began to sweat. "Well, I mean-" "Yeah, totally! We were just trying to keep to ourselves, but they threatened to terminate our cable subscription, it was horrible!" Naily put a paw on her forehead melodramatically, playing along with the bit. "Book, you can back us up, right?"

But Book was already running off. She held up a finger, likely to indicate that they had taken things 'one' step too far, before disappearing into the distance. The joke was on her, though, Naily thought. She was holding up the wrong one.

Either way she couldn't keep up the act. "…It's just a prank?" She shrugged.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT WAS A BIRTHDAY GIFT OR ANOTHER TRIAL FROM GOD!" Two yelled, "I AM BEYOND ANGRY AT ALL OF YOU! Winner, I gave you clear instructions to not randomly create portals to the real world without my permission."

"I'm sorry!" They sighed. "N-Nickel said there were purple tomatoes, and I was hungry!"

"You eat those literally every other day! Nickel! I tell you to be more grateful for what you have, so you run off into another dimension?!" "W-well, yeah, but the food they have there doesn't really taste- have the same heart that yours does."

"…YOU ATE THEIR FOOD?!" They cried, taking personal offense. "Look," said Naily, "I'm really sorry if we did something wrong by running off. We just wanted to find more of the exotic caviar you were talking about!"

They frumped. "The ca- Is that what this is about?" Nickel's eyes darted around. "Well, yeah, where else would you get it from?"

"Nickel." Two said, bluntly. "Nickel, look at me. We have a canal, with fish in it. That lay eggs. Caviar is fish eggs."

"Oh." He tapped his foot, awkwardly. "Well that's why we didn't really… find any, anyway. We mostly just ate burgers."

"Whatever you ate, it wasn't worth violating one of my clearest rules!" They sighed. "Look, I'll let you all off the hook this time, since clearly none of you had any malicious intent." They walked towards the portal, while eyeing Winner, "and using your limitless power irresponsibly, even for just a minute, is admittedly tempting," before standing in front of it. "But you all could've gotten very hurt, and for that risk alone, I don't want you ever sneaking out like that again."

They turned around. "Now I'm going to go get some stuff for oh MY GOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!" They screamed as they saw a flurry of tanks, helicopters, and police cars aiming directly at them. They hastily ripped the portal off the wall, folding it into a bite-sized piece before swallowing it with a quick gulp. They breathed heavily for a few seconds. Winner raised their eyebrows. "That's impressive." "WHAT DID YOU- Thanks, by the way, thank you for noticing, but WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

Pillow pulled out some shoelaces. "We also killed the president."

Nickel bit into his fried caviar. It was crunchier, and more bitter than his previous feast. "Well, maybe two week house arrest isn't that bad after all!" Naily perked, kicking her feet against her assigned bed as she switched on the TV. "Yeah," Taggy said as they huddled under the blanket. "We get room service and everything!" "AND, THANKS TO DOORDASH, 4% CASHBACK ON EVERY PURCHASE." Cheered Bomby. Naily awkwardly nodded. Perhaps exposure to the viewers' world had gone to his head.

She looked up at the roof - gray, like the rest of the room - and silently sighed. While she appeared about as optimistic as the others, secretly, Naily couldn't wait to get out of here. The room's dull coloring was nowhere near as visually stimulating as her walls, which were somehow littered with bright neon blinkie gifs and other animated posters. She stared enviously at the bed which would've been assigned to Book had she not been pardoned by Two. Stupid justice. She was probably being rewarded with a nice, tropical vacation for her efforts to stop the situation from escalating before it began, while the rest of the team lounged in prison.

Naily was right: but in actuality, being separated from her friends even for a little while was perhaps just as punishing to Book as this ordeal was to Naily. The friend group they shared was tight-knit: nobody could stay mad at each other for long, and even if they didn't think it, they longed to see each other again and quickly reconcile.

"Well, Burger Kings come and go…" Cake stated as he ate a fry, whose recipe had been copied from the titular restaurant after much research, "but you're all the only monarchs I'll ever need."

Awkward, yet sweet. That was Cake. He huddled up with the rest of his team in a hug while thinking about how Loser would be the royal jester in this metaphor.

Ironically, Nickel thought to himself as he took another bite of his caviar, Two perhaps did need to go to the viewers' world to make proper ground sevruga after all, before the incident made it too dangerous for anyone to venture into again. Except it wasn't the caviar that was obtained from the viewers' world.

It was the microwaves, delivered by Black Sea Shipping Company.

Pillow crept into her room. It had been vacant for the past fortnite on account of her house arrest. Her friends were currently having a reunion party downstairs to celebrate finally being able to interact with the outside world. How naive, or rather, ignorant. They had finally taken a step outside of their little bubble and were still perfectly content with staying inside? Their loss.

She bit her fingernail into the shape of a key, and unlocked her drawer. Two had confiscated her gun after finding it during the car inspection. They didn't, however, think to search her room. Searching through her pile of backup weapons, she found another: a ray gun. Smaller, and with a much slower firing speed, but it packed a punch if you had good aim. Perfect for what she was trying to achieve.

She switched it to "Portal" mode. The incident was probably all over the news by now. It would take a lot of work to cover it all up, but if Pillow had her heart set on fixing what was broken, chances are it wouldn't take more than a few hours. If all went well she would be back in time to catch the end of the party.

She aimed at the floor.

She breathed in.

She fired.

#this sucks but i am free. okay? #bfdi #bfb #tpot #maintagging this WE BALL! 🏀🏀🏀⛹️🏀⛹️⛹️⛹️ #sketch.swf #fic.avi #Naily bfb #Naily tpot #Price Tag BFB #Price tag tpot #Cake bfb #Cake tpot #Nickel bfb #Nickel tpot #Bomby BFB #Bomby TPOT #Book BFB #Book TPOT #Pillow BFB #Pillow TPOT #nailtag #nailtagbomb #just not TPOT #much of this was written before tpot 6 which is why 4 and X arent there. sorry #also there was meant to be a scene where Loser calls Cake on the phone while everyone's in the drive thru and orders onion rings #wouldve been cute and established that all of the post-split contestants were back as well but i forgot Lol #i need an ensemble tag for when i do the whole team the last time i did it there were so many tags it messed with the search results

[scribbledbeans]

Eating Isn't Something Earned

Summary: You overthink how hard you work for the crew and decide you don't work enough to deserve to eat. Sanji reminds you that food isn't earned. Warnings: ED, mentions of not feeling worthy of food, self hatred Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This is completely self-indulgent but I figured other people may benefit from some Sanji love [GN!Reader so everyone can enjoy <3]

"And~ Voila!" The table bursts into cheers and ogling once Sanji reveals the giant fish from under the cloche. The fish was caught earlier in the day by the crews sharp shooter. Immediately, Sanji had recipes flooding his brain the moment he laid sight on it.

"WHOAAA~!" Luffy's eyes shine bright, mouth watering at the sight of the monster of a creature plated in front of him. Before the plans in his head go into action he quickly gets smack to the back of the head.

"Let me cut into it first." Sanji's brow twinges in anger. Like he would allow the captain to demolish this perfect feast before anyone else could even taste it. Sanji portions out plates for the crew, making sure Robin's, Nami's, and your plate were delicately crafted to make sure the perfect bites could be crafted. The captain obviously given the largest plate. The table commences their dinner feast, laughing and sharing stories from their day.

"I swear to you, I was practically horizontal reeling this bad boy in!" Usopp already exaggerating the story of his 'great catch'. "You know me though, I couldn't let the beast get away! I reeled and tugged and reeeeeellled and tugged," His movements are dramatic like that of a children's theatre play, "and BOOM that monster was flying through the air! I had to beat it into submission ya know? Really had to teach it a lesson after making the God Usopp work so hard- I mean it wasn't hard work at all it was s-super easy bringing him aboard!" He rubs his finger under his nose to hide his nervous laughter.

You giggle at the long-nosed man's clear cover up for his struggle of tugging the fish out of the water. Your day was generally uneventful compared to the rest of the crew's. The only thing of substance was sparing Zoro. Nothing crazy happened during that either, he was mainly just re-going over basic stances to maximize defense.

Dinner does look delicious, you can't deny that Sanji's cooking always looked so appetizing. No matter the beauty of the dishes he creates, you can't bring yourself the do more than push around the contents of your plate. Listening to how active the rest of the crew is you start to wonder if you deserve the meals prepared for you. You weren't studying like Robin, Nami, or Chopper. You didn't benefit the ship by fixing things like Franky or Usopp. You didn't entertain the others like Luffy or Brooke. What were you doing to help? These thoughts have been plaguing your brain recently, unable to make them stop.

Sanji watches the crew dive into his master piece, smiling at the happy faces and bellies he creates with his meal. He grabs the wine bottle from the table and starts making the rounds to refill the glasses of those who wished to partake in the delectable pairing he chose. He slowly makes his way over to you and notices not only was your wine glass untouched, so was your food.

Leaning down to your ear he whispers, "Did you not want fish, y/n-swan? I can make you something else for you if you'd like."

You were pulled out of your trance of over-thinking by his smooth voice. "Oh, no, it's alright Sanji. I think I'm just not very hungry tonight. I'm sorry."

"Please, don't apologies. Don't force yourself to eat on my behalf." The blonde smiles down at you, his hand laid softly on your shoulder. "If you get hungry later I can warm this up for you or make you something else, okay?"

"That would be nice of you, thank you." You give the chef a small nod.

"Anything for you, y/n-swan~." His smile warms your heart, but did you deserve such kindness?

You excuse yourself from the table and make your way to the main deck. The rambunctious crew still able to be heard. Leaning down on the railing you stare out to the sea. Your mind still reeling with the same worries. You didn't deserve the food served to you without hesitation. You don't deserve to eat with the crew that grinds tooth and nail to keep the group afloat. You don't deserve to eat. You aren't worth the love and effort put into the dishes made for the people who put their hearts and souls into everything they did. Your eyes start to burn with tears, trying to choke back sobs so you don't disturb the merry making happening behind you. Your head falls to the rail you were leaning on, hands grasping your hair.

"Y/n." A voice calls out to you, quiet enough that you almost miss it over your own sobs. Quickly you wipe your eyes and try to slow your breathing. Foot steps slowly approaching you from behind. You turn to see the curly browed man coming over to you.

"Sanji, hello, did you need help with the dishes?" You try to even out your voice as much as possible, small wavers giving away that you weren't okay.

"Chopper told me that you've been giving your plates to Luffy more often recently." The chef states, ignoring your question. "I know it isn't my food, you've taste tested these dishes for me hundreds of times. Please, y/n, tell me what's troubling you." Finally only a foot away from you.

You can't hold back your tears from him anymore. He's so sincere with his plea. "I don't deserve them. I can't accept something I didn't earn." You hide your face in your hands, attempting to hide the shame of your lack luster performance on the team. Quickly arms surround you, the hold is comfortably tight.

"Don't you ever say that again!" Sanji sounds so stern but he means it in the most genuine concern. "You deserve to eat, you work so hard every day. You improve yourself little by little, you may not see it but everyone else can. You give so much of yourself into everything you do."

He grabs your cheeks so he can see your face clearly, wiping away tears with his thumbs. A gentle kiss was placed on your forehead.

"Eating isn't something earned. It's something you deserve. Everyone deserves to eat, even if they aren't working themselves to the bone. Please, never feel like you don't deserve to eat." Sanji rests his forehead on your own. "Now, if you actually aren't hungry I won't make you come back with me. If you are though, please let me make you something to eat. You deserve something special, just for you."

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #one piece #one piece x reader #op sanji #sanji x you #sanji angst #sanji vinsmoke #black leg sanji #gn reader #sanji x gn reader #angst #comfort #sanji comfort #hurt/comfort #bean's writings

[ctrlmay]

ᴛᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇsᴛ

sɪʀᴇɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ

Warnings: death, and murder ( seems brutal but it really isn’t)

After High School, Osamu pursued his dream of opening his restaurant, and at the age of 23, he proudly became the owner of Onigiri Miya. His restaurant resides in a coastal town where the salty breeze kisses the air. Spending his time doing what he enjoyed, Osamu served his friends, family, and tourists with his amazing dishes using the best ingredients supplied by the ocean, which stands only meters away from Onigiri Miya.

Fetching his own produce, Osamu ventures out into the vast ocean; in his boat, carefully navigating the different water territories that lurk with dangers and mystical wonders far greater than his existence. Despite being a treacherous place for a lone sailor, it remains his only and best supply source. And over the years, he has overcome countless obstacles that the unpredictable sea has to offer.

That's how he knew to plug his ears when he heard a faint yet echoing humming sound in the distance. Scanning the horizon, he spotted the rare sight – a woman perched on top of a rock, combing through her locks with her fingers, and her tail flicking up and down, all the while producing a lovely and enchanting song. He knew immediately that you were a Siren and couldn’t believe his eyes, becoming entranced by your effortless beauty.

However, he quickly snapped back into reality upon meeting your gaze, continuing his work to avoid any trouble. You'd stopped singing. By now, with your incredible ability to write a man’s fate with a song, he should’ve jumped into the water, drowning in defeat, unable to resist your bewitching song. But he had not, and nonetheless, you were confused, though intrigued.

Diving into the water, you swam up to the side of Osamu's Boat. “Hello,” you greeted him, with your velvet voice that bled through his earplugs.

“Hey,” he replied, regretting his words instantly, unable to resist the inviting sense of your voice.

Observing the earplugs in his ears, you teased, “Earplugs, how naughty of you, sailor man.”

“What I can’t hear won’t hurt me,” he replied once again, unable to control the impulses of his own mouth when talking with you.

“Hurt you?” You were offended by his statement. “Why would I hurt you?”

Osamu didn’t respond, instead choosing to focus on his work, fishing up the traps of crab.

“You know? I know where to get the juiciest crabs.” You persisted. “All you have to do is get in the water.” You said, waving your arms in the water inviting him in.

He showed no reaction to your invitation, continuing his work. “Come in the water, little sailor man.”

Osamu stopped, and his foot from itching any further towards the edge of the boat, fighting the urge that itched for him to jump in the water in order to return back to his restaurant alive. He refused to die because of the lust that filled his heart.

“No,” he bellowed to his pesky foot and you.

“What did you say?” You questioned in disbelief.

And Osamu responded just as he did before. “I said No.”

“No?” Your voice filled with rage. “What do you mean, no?” Your voice echoed through the open sky, making big ripples in the water surrounding you and Osamu.

Your anger intensified, and he saw your face shift from something beautiful into a monster. Without understanding what was happening, all he could infer was your anger transmuting with the ocean. From ripples of water, you raised a huge wave enough to flood the entire town with just your hands sticking out of the water.

He went to the wheel to go back to the shore, but it was too late when the wave crashed down on his boat, flinging him into the ferocious waters.

The wave passed, though your anger didn’t, and still, the ocean roared violently, making big waves after another. Osamu struggled to keep his head above water and was pulled under by the neck by you, leaving him gasping for air and fighting to survive.

“You're Mine, Sailor Man.” He’d lost his earplugs in the water, even if they weren’t much help, but in the deep with the water covering his ears, he could hear your voice loud and clear.

He was defenseless in the water, his lungs couldn’t hold for long, and the weight of you dragging him down wasn’t much help to him either. Osamu was losing oxygen but refused to give up. He had a business to run and wasn't going to let years of hard work go to waste for a stubborn siren.

With his last ounce of strength, he fought against your hold till you finally loosened your grip on his neck, and Osamu managed to turn the tables, surprising you with his boldness. Seizing the moment, before you could react, he brought you to eye level, not hesitating to latch his lips onto yours.

Hungrily, he smashed his tongue into your mouth, stealing the air from your lungs into his. His tongue searched for yours under the water that entered and left the small air pocket in between your mouths, all the while trying to hold his breath. Despite his goal of stealing air from you to survive, he enjoyed the kiss and felt you surrender to his kiss, knowing he had succeeded in reversing the roles. And serenading you with the feel of his lips, turning you, a siren, hungry for more.

Before you could fall any deeper into the kiss, you pushed him off of you. Osamu nibbled on your lip before pulling away, leaving blood on your lip and a satisfied grin on his face. Holding onto the little air he stole from you to ascend to the surface and back onto his boat.

You swam to the surface, keeping a safe distance from Osamu. Despite everything that had happened, you couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that, for the first time in centuries with your honor of taking the last breath of thousands of men, a man had taken your breath away.

"Your death is mine, sailor man." You said with your voice still carrying its alluring charm despite the ragged sound, still catching onto your breath.

Osamu chuckled, “Looking forward to it, angel." Osamu replied with a wink.

Your lips twitched into a half-smile; he had left an impression on you that no other man had lived long enough to create.

This is my first time doing fantasy so don’t say nothinggg. Also I’m thinking of making this into a series 🤭 idky

#osamu x reader #miya osamu #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu osamu #osamu fluff #osamu angst #osamu miya #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #ctrllingmay #ctrlmay

[chimielie]

Hajime’s the last one left.

You and your friends had all gathered to celebrate, though what the specific occasion was he couldn’t be sure. It was a joint birthday-victory-holiday party, including festivities like cake and movies and a lot of loud laughter. Like everyone did whenever the rare opportunity was presented, you had stayed up through the earliest hours of the morning.

One by one, people had trickled out, saying their goodbyes, until only Oikawa and Iwaizumi were left; and you, hands tucked under your head as you slept, blissfully unaware of the TV turned on low in front of you and the two men arguing before your door.

“I’ll wait,” Oikawa insists. “I don’t mind—”

“Neither do I,” Iwaizumi says, his voiced hushed but nevertheless firm. “I’ll clean up a little while I wait for them to wake up—”

“I can help,” Oikawa says. “Two hands are better than one.”

“You mean four and two?” Iwaizumi snickers while his friend rolls his eyes. “Seriously, you’ve got a way longer way home than I do, and I have the day off tomorrow besides. Go get some rest.”

“Fine, fine. But you do too much,” Oikawa puts a hand on Iwaizumi’s arm. “What happened to the guy who used to beat me up for overworking myself?”

“I know my limits, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi retorts. “I’m not driving myself into the ground, just doing something nice for a friend.”

“Maybe,” Oikawa’s face is deadly serious. “But don’t forget how easy it is to wear yourself out when it comes to something—“ he cuts a pointed look at the back of the couch— “You love.”

Hajime doesn’t have anything to say to that.

He throws away all the trash people leave behind unknowingly, clears up the dishes, wipes down every flat surface of your home. He organizes your shoes. The cheery white sneakers you wear almost every day seem to smile at him.

He blinks. He needs to go to bed.

You’re still sound asleep when he returns to the couch. It’s a funny quirk of yours—you can fall asleep nearly anywhere. You once passed out with your head in his lap in a busy mall, with bright white fluorescent lights staring you right in the face.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low, trying not to startle you. “Time to wake up.”

Your breathing continues evenly, undisturbed.

“Okay,” he huffs to himself, amused, and tried to find the best way to roll you off the couch and into his arms.

It’s not too much of a struggle to drag your dead weight into your room, and he gets you into your bed in a position that won’t cramp eventually. He doesn’t tuck you in, because that’s an octopus’ game, but he hopes you’ll be warm enough, though he won’t be here to be sure. You make a sleepy noise that’s nearly his name when he puts you down, reaching out with your eyes still closed, searching for something.

He watches you for a moment (or a few, but who’s counting at this liminal time before dawn), admiring the peace of your sleeping face, the way your lashes cast long shadows over your cheekbones, the whistle of air through your nose. Your hair is in your face. He knows he shouldn’t bother but he sweeps it aside with gentle fingers, trying not to think about the softness of your skin or the textured strands of your hair.

Your fingers twitch again, still seeking.

Maybe someday, Hajime thinks as he opens the door to step out, equal parts fond and wistful, moonlight and shadow playing across his face. That’s what keeps him going. Maybe someday.

#goodnight everyone hope we are all filling our mutually pining for iwaizumi standard #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!! drabble #hq drabbles #iwaizumi hajime drabbles #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! x reader angst #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #hq x reader angst #shorts!

[lovelylinnn]

MY FIRST STEDDIE FIC WOOO

Title: make my brain go quiet

includes: fluff and slight angst. hurt/comfort.

eddie’s brain was in no way quiet. and of course steve knew that when he had met him, but he didn’t know the extent of it.

eddie knew in a way that other people’s brains did not work the same way his did. when he watched other people throughout his life, he didn’t even realize just how different he was. he just knew something was.. off.

from how much he talked, to the millions of thoughts running through his head, to the never sitting still; fidgeting, pacing, and late night walks when he couldn’t sleep. never having enough time during tests, struggling with making friends, figuring out how to read.

everything was a struggle. he hated himself. he thought he was stupid. everyone said he was, anyway.

the only person that made him feel better was his uncle wayne, and even then, he still didn’t ever feel smart enough. good enough.

that was, until steve.

they had been dating for a couple years now. eddie still thought about their first date, a month in. it was a movie night at eddie’s trailer, he had made popcorn, set out various chips, and rented the movie.

and then he talked pretty much the whole time.

he just couldn’t help himself. any time something interesting happened he had to make a comment. it was an impulse; an urge.

but steve hadn’t said anything in return.

and after the movie, eddie talked for maybe about 20 minutes about the ending of it. he hated cliffhangers, and of course it ended with one.

“that was complete bullshit! they killed off the main girl and we didn’t even know who the killer was? i mean, cmon!” he exclaimed, beginning to wash the dishes. steve stood next to him and nodded in response.

then eddie’s face fell. he realized it. he had been talking this entire time.

“sorry,” he mumbled, “i’ll shut up now.”

he expected something mean in response. it was always mean, so how could he not? it was always a, “i was hoping so,” or “good,” or “i thought you wouldn’t stop,”

but what steve did in response just melted his heart.

“keep talking, please. i like to hear your voice,” he said quietly in response, a small smile playing on his face, “plus you had a very fair point about the movie.”

eddie smiled brightly, a light pink beginning to dance on his cheeks.

“you’re not annoyed?” he asked. he was still unsure. he didn’t want to get his hopes up. his brain was still screaming at him to shut up.

“i’m being serious, i’m not annoyed at all, ed. i like hearing you speak,”

eddie’s smile got wider. he stayed silent for another couple moments.

“well, okay,”

and that was that.

about a year into the relationship, steve had come across his journal. eddie’s therapist had mentioned something about writing his millions of thoughts down, especially if they’re negative or something.

and eddie didn’t know why, maybe it was the weed, but he let steve read his journal.

eddie was always the talker in the relationship, yes. but steve didn’t really know just how much he thought until he read them. pages and pages of rants, ideas, drawings, anything that had popped up in his mind.

and he thought it was completely endearing.

eddie was honestly expecting something mean in response again as he flipped through the pages. his ears were red, and he was trying to play off his embarrassment as cockiness, but honestly it probably wasn’t working.

“you have a really cool mind, eddie,” he spoke after a few minutes, “some of this is really interesting.”

he blushed deeply and stammered, “th-thanks.”

steve closed the journal and handed it back to him, kissing him on the cheek, “of course.”

and fast forward to now. steve was staying as eddie’s trailer for a couple nights with a slight cold. eddie had always made him feel better. the time was around 4pm, which meant he would be home from school soon.

he sat on the couch by the trailer door reading a book, a blanket on his lap and he sat in silence.

he hated it. he missed eddie’s rambling, or humming. he needed something to fill how quiet it was. it was always way too quiet in his house. his parents were there, but not emotionally. especially not now, when he was an adult and didn’t need to stay there anymore.

eddie was the opposite. and he loved it.

he heard the door unlock, and his heart jumped a little out of excitement. he smiled and sat up, closing the book and waiting.

“hey, eds. glad you’re home,”

eddie looked at him and the other man immediately knew something was wrong.

“what’s up?”

he sighed heavily, rubbing his tired eyes and going over to him on the couch. steve sat back, letting him lay down on him in between his legs. his head sat on his lower chest, arms wrapping around him. steve played with his hair, which was something only he and wayne were allowed to do.

“you okay? what’s wrong?”

“brain’s being too loud today. everything was so bright at school and i hated it,” he said. his eyes closed and his arms wrapped tighter around steve.

“ah, i see. i’m sorry about that, eddie.”

“‘s okay,” he muttered, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” and he spoke again after a few moments, “so, laying on me helps i suppose?”

eddie nodded in his chest, humming an approval.

“yeah. you make my brain go quiet.”

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[stargazingellie]

lazarus is risen

chapter one: prologue

hiii :)

i'm writing something on ao3 and wanted to post it on here too, so here's the first installment!! (teehee)

here's a summary:

After deciding to let Abby live, Ellie has returned to Jackson. But given everything she's lost, it no longer feels like home. She's sad, she's confused, and above all else, she is so, so very lonely. So when a group of strangers shows up and offers her a second chance, she might just take them up on that.

Ellie must decide between staying in Jackson – and living with the ghosts of her past – or leaving in search of new meaning. Whatever she decides, her choice will have far-reaching consequences – not just for herself, or for Jackson, but for all of humanity.

Or:

Ellie saves the world, maybe?

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Prologue: A separate introductory section of a literary or musical work.

The clock on the wall read 10:49 p.m. – well outside the bounds of typical working hours, even for the lab’s most dedicated personnel. Fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling of the large room emitted a low hum and sent rays of unnaturally harsh light spilling over empty  workbenches, abandoned petri dishes, and one single, solitary figure hunched over a microscope.

He adjusted his round, wire-rimmed glasses and fiddled with the magnification lenses. As he did so, he took meticulous notes in a well-worn binder, from whose edges years’ worth of handwritten, detailed data threatened to spill. Lost in his observation, a sudden burst of static from his walkie-talkie jolted him back to reality.

“This is Red Team 1 to Dr. Reynolds. Dr. Reynolds, come in.”

Frantically, the man finished what he was writing, set down his pencil, and responded, “Go for Reynolds.”

“Sir, there was an incident in Quadrant 3. Daniels is compromised. We’re bringing him in now. E.T.A. 7 minutes, over.”

The man quickly began packing up the binder, taking special care to keep all of the papers neat and in order. “Copy that. Bring him to the same operating room as last time, over.”

“Copy that. Over and out.”

The man packed his belongings into a leather satchel and hurried out of the quiet laboratory. Rushing up stairs and around corners, he arrived at the operating room and began setting up the necessary equipment as he struggled to catch his breath. This was so much easier when I was young, he thought to himself. Just as he positioned the final syringes, two men supporting a third between them burst through the heavy double doors with a loud bang.

Familiar with the routine, the pair lay the patient on the table as each secured a wrist and ankle cuff. The patient, whose metal nameplate read Daniels, did not resist.

Dr. Reynolds hastily pulled on gloves as he stepped beside the table to speak with the patient.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Daniels. You’ve been of great service to our cause. I just want to make sure – you still want to go through with this? We can just end it now if you’ve changed your mind.”

Daniels gazed back at the doctor, beads of sweat already beginning to form on his pale forehead. “Yes,” he nodded. “I still want to. I’ve only ever wanted to help, in any way I can. I hope it works for you this time, and if not, well, maybe you’ll still get some useful data out of it.” He gave a weak smile and blinked back tears, as if trying to convince himself of his own statement.

Dr. Reynolds placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. “I hope so too. I really do.”

Turning away, the doctor picked up the first of several syringes he had placed in two neat, even rows on the operating tray. One row was full of a milky liquid, while the other row of syringes lay completely empty. Addressing the two burly men who had brought Daniels in, Dr. Reynolds asked, “Where?”

“Stomach, sir,” one replied.

The doctor turned back to Daniels and lifted the hem of his blood-soaked shirt, revealing a ring of teeth marks on his lower abdomen. He inserted the needle into the center of the bite and injected the contents of the first syringe. Looking at his watch, he waited thirty seconds, then used an empty syringe to take a blood sample from the side of Daniels’ neck. Three more minutes of waiting to allow for further incubation. Inject at the site of infection. Another thirty seconds. Take a sample. He repeated the sequence until all syringes had been injected or contained a cerebral blood sample, labeled with small, neat handwriting.

Addressing Daniels directly, Dr Reynolds said, “Okay, that’s the last of them. I know you’ve seen this process happen to others before, but I’ll remind you of what to expect. It’s just a waiting game now, and if you start to show symptoms, it should be within the next few hours. If the treatment works – and I do hope it does – you should remain in control of your body. If not, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He gave Daniels a comforting smile, a final squeeze on the shoulder, and gathered up the blood samples. “Keep me updated with any changes,” he said to the guards, and hurried back down to the lab.

Once he reached the lab, Dr. Reynolds’ practiced hands created slides of the infected blood in a matter of seconds. He pulled out his binder of notes and began observing the samples under the microscope.

“Multicellular filamentous fungi present in all samples,” he muttered to himself as he excitedly recorded his observations. “But antifungal concoction seems to have made a small yet noticeable effect on subsequent samples.”

He continued to record his data until, about half an hour later, his walkie-talkie sprang to life again.

“Red Team 1 to Reynolds. Reynolds come in.”

Fearing (or rather, knowing) the worst, the doctor picked up the radio. “Go for Reynolds.”

“Daniels has progressed. You should come back up, over.”

Dr. Reynolds sat back in his chair and let out a defeated sigh. He wrote in his notes: Blood samples seem to indicate initial success, but subject still presents as symptomatic.

Back in the operating room, he didn’t need a microscope to know the treatment wasn’t strong enough. Daniels was rapidly declining; his entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat and, despite the strong cuffs, his right hand was twitching erratically. 

The doctor crossed the room to the operating table and gazed sadly down at his patient. 

“Hey Doc.” Daniels smiled weakly as his eye twitched. “Not in the cards for me, huh?”

Dr. Reynolds cleared his throat. “Well, as a positive, it looks like the treatment had some initial progress at the cellular level, but at the organismal level… we’re not quite there yet. I can give you a sedative to make this part more comfortable. Would you like that?”

Daniels stoically shook his head. “No, save it for someone who can put it to better use.”

The doctor gave a soft, sad, chuckle. “Always the valiant one, Daniels. Good man.” Turning to the two remaining members of Red Team 1, Dr. Reynolds said, “Please escort him to the Waiting Rooms.” The men gave a quick nod and wheeled the table back through the heavy double doors. Dr. Reynolds watched as they disappeared around a corner. Briefly losing himself in thought, his ponderings were once again interrupted by a call on his radio.

“Base to Dr. Reynolds. Dr. Reynolds come in.”

The doctor furrowed his brow. Base? They never call this late. Their usual administrative updates were never urgent enough to warrant a late-night page.

In his confusion, he managed to get out, “Uh, yes, go for Reynolds.”

“Doctor, report to headquarters ASAP. There’s someone here who needs to speak with you. It’s…  something you’ll want to hear, over.”

Taken aback by the strangeness of the request, the doctor simply replied, “Copy that, I’ll be there in ten, over.”

When he arrived at headquarters, he was quickly ushered into a small conference room. His colleagues sat on one side of the long wooden table, facing four armed guards. The researchers were all in various states of disarray, suggesting they had not been expecting this meeting either. Dr. Reynolds’ attention fell on the one person in the room he did not recognize; on the other side of the table sat a dirty, tired-looking woman whose cuffed hands lay flat on the table in front of her. 

Dr. Reynolds took the empty seat opposite the stranger and asked, “What’s this all about?”

To his left sat Dr. Martha Simmons, one of the organization’s lead mycelium specialists with whom he regularly collaborated. “She showed up at the wall. Insisted she speak with all of us. Wouldn’t talk until you got here.”

One of the guards spoke up. “We found this on her.” He tossed a knife bearing a clearly recognizable Firefly insignia on the table. “Usually we wouldn’t bring one of her kind straight to HQ, but she insisted she had information critical to your research. Seemed pretty adamant about it.”

Dr. Reynolds thought for a moment, then, glancing briefly at his colleagues, addressed the stranger. “Well, I’m sure we’re all interested as to what information you might have. Please, go ahead.” He sat back in his chair and gestured for the woman to speak.

A string of words fell out of her as if they’d been rehearsed many times before. “My name is Arielle. I’m from the Boston QZ. I’m part of the Fireflies – well, was – I know you guys don’t take kindly to us. But most of us are gone now. FEDRA and other groups and all that. I left the QZ when it started to get bad – well, it was always bad, but, you know, bad bad.” 

She realized she was rambling and cleared her throat. “Anyway… I headed south, hoping to find somewhere better. Tall order, I know. But the farther I went, the more I heard about some researchers still trying to fight this thing. Like, real scientists – not just wannabe, half-trained doctors like we had. Only these scientists hadn’t been having much success. People are saying you’ve been trying to come up with some kind of treatment from infected subjects or something.” 

She held her hands up as if to say, No judgment. “I mean, I don’t know the first thing about mushrooms, so I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. But I figured, if a treatment isn’t working when it’s made from people where the fungus thing, like, completely takes over, then… what if it was made from someone where that didn’t happen?”

She looked expectantly at the scientists in front of her, as if she thought some collective moment of realization would ensue.

“Ma’am,” Dr. Reynolds started. “What you’re suggesting… It's a nice thought, but we as humans have never dealt with this particular mutation of this particular kind of microbe before. There’s no reason to believe that someone would be… or even could be…” Dr. Reynolds trailed off and threw his hands up in defeat, unsure of how to best let this woman know she was living in a land of delusion.

“No, no, listen to me,” she insisted. “I’m not – I’m not crazy. Listen, I have every reason to believe it. Seeing is believing, right? Well, I’ve seen it. With my own eyes. A couple years ago, there was this girl. She was bitten, but nothing happened. It just scabbed over. I’m telling you, I didn’t believe it at first either. But it’s real. She’s real.”

Dr. Reynolds sat forward with interest. Dr. Simmons shook her head in disbelief. “Ma’am, if that’s true, then you’re suggesting… what, exactly?”Arielle, visibly frustrated with the lack of immediate understanding, pressed her palms together in front of her chest and took a deep breath to collect herself. “I am… suggesting that this girl is immune. And I am telling you that I know where to look for her.”

#the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #lazarus is risen // ellie williams #tumblr i missed u #why am i nervous #lemme know what u think i love talking 2 people!!! <333 #teehee

[crzy-joey]

OsaSuna

Starting his dream of owning a restaurant he had a healthy weight of 161 pounds for his hight... But that soon changed.

When did this happen? How did it happen? He touched his small chubby tummy. His six pack was long gone. He stopped training when he started college. So that was not a surprise.

In his third year of college he started working towards his own restaurant. He always cooked and perfected meals. Making variations of desserts, baking.... He did everything. Not only that, he ate too. He tried while cooking, just to see how the taste changed. Afterwards to taste how the flavours worked together

He always worked on new dishes, new combinations of food and new techniques. He didn't notice how much he was eating. He didn't even notice his body change. Now stepping out of the shower, looking in the mirror in front of him he did. He noticed.

"I really need to cut down...", he said to himself, looking at his pudge. Just to check he stepped on the scale. 170 pounds. That's not a bad as he thought. "That's okay" he said. "Maybe I can keep going like this just a little longer..."

And he did. Trying food constantly added to his waist and to the scale but he avoided the latter. Even tho he saw it and his clothes didn't fit as they used to, he still denied his weight gain.

He denied his portions getting bigger. He always got seconds now. Atsumu looked at him with a questioning look at family dinner with their parents and their partners. "What? I don't eat more than usual. Also I have to do some research for my restaurant", Osamu said. "I didn't even gain weight my clothes just shrunk in the wash or something", he added when his brother started to look down to his Body.

"Yeah right", Atsumu said. He didn't want to pick a fight now. Might as well let his brother believe his clothes shrunk.

Because of his denial but constant weight gain, his clothes were now really tight. His shirt, that didn't cover his gut properly before dinner, rode up to his belly button and his tight pants are even tighter now.

"do we have dessert?", Osamu asked as soon as he finished his second portion. Hesitating at first his mom got up and brought in the dessert. Osamu immediately started on his. Suna still struggled to eat his portion of the main dish so Osamu ate his leftovers and his dessert. After finishing, he took a deep breath. His shirt had ridden up to the top of his belly and his pants popped open.

"are you sure, you didn't gain weight?", Atsumu asked directly now.

"I don't know... I avoided stepping on a scale the last months..." Osamu said honestly .

"Well maybe you did gain a little bit of weight...", suna said, lovingly patting Osamu's gut. Atsumu and Suna were right... When he stepped on the scale the next time, he weighed 255 pounds

Now he was insecure about his body... "Babe what's wrong?", suna asked gently.

"do you even still love me like this?", Osamu asked.

"Baby.... Yes of course! You gained a little weight-"

"94 pounds....", Osamu interrupted

"but I love you. And no amount of weight can change that. I like you like this a lot. I love your body so much", Suna looked his boyfriend deeply into his eyes. He put both hands on Osamu's gut and rubbed his hands over it.

"I love this. This little gut of yours. Also 255 pounds aren't that much to begin with. There is still room up top", Suna smiled, his hands still rubbing his boyfriend's belly. "Let's watch a movie together"

They went into the living room. Osamu sat down on the couch while Suna got some snacks and started the movie. Osamu didn't know that Suna also baked a cake for him. Osamu had three slices. He leaned back his stomach cramping up. He ate way to much way to fast... He wasn't full by any means.

Suna's hand found it's way to Osamu's Belly again. He started gently massaging the aching gut. Osamu groaned lightly. He pressed his stomach against Suna's small hands. Well Suna's hands weren't small but compared to Osamu's Belly, they were.

"does this feel good, big boy?", Suna asked. Osamu just moaned in response, he really enjoyed the massage. The cramps loosened and he could breathe again. Suna's hands didn't stop tho they stayed on his belly rubbing, massaging and playing with it.

#haikyuu #weight gain story #chubby haikyuu #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu weight gain #chubby Osamu #miya osamu #Osamu Miya weight gain #fat haikyu #fat Osamu

[absolutebl]

Hi, absolutebl.......Do you mind if I ask you some random thing? I used to love shoujo/josei manga and het romance kdrama equally....But ever since I found BL manga 3 years ago, my interest in shoujo and het romance decrese a lot, and what I search for is just the dynamic between mc (male) and male lead...I don't want to read or watch mc (female) and male lead or mc (male) and female lead...

What do you think happen to me? (Sorry for this weird ask)

Really love your blog....Thank you so much, for sharing your BL analyses, reviews and recs. I learn a lot from you. Some of my fav BL series, I found them from you.....Thanks.....

Do you mind if I ask again for BL recs? Because I know here are users that did not want to receive different asks from the same person.....

Also, have you watched dmbj or read orv? Both series based on a novels that have very strong bromance vibe.....

Do you know that sotus, manner of death and 2together are adapted into manga? Before I found your blog, BL that I read are from manga and manhwa, and I was surprised when I knew that the series above are from thai drama (I know the manga first, sorry).....

Last ask, what do you think about BL or GL that make it better than het romance? Do you feel that too?

Sorry for this very long ask, if you mind, I will not ask again......Hope you have a wonderful day.....

Honestly I don't know. But I can say it happened to me with manga a very long time ago. I switched from reading bodice rippers to yaoi and pretty much stopped reading anything het romance after that. (I still read scifi & fantasy that's not primarily romance, although not as much as I once did.)

Fortunately for me, the M/M self publishing revolution, and then BL, came along.

That said, I did pick up Kdramas (via Kpop), and they are now the only het I watch.

I've gone through phases where yaoi or m/m or BL was ALL I was consuming for a couple years. And then just stopped. Stared reading more widely for a while. (I'm making the comparison with books because I have never had the opportunity to do this level of obsession with cinema before, there has never before been enough on screen queer romances for me to just watch those and nothing else until 2020. Now there is.

Honestly, I don't know why this happened or me, or anyone else.

To understand why we like a thing, let alone obsesses or fixate on a thing, is so complex. Maybe it's because I come out of kink but I've learned to just go with the fetish... as it were.

It's like trying to understand why you like a particular dish, song, fashion, color, painting, architecture, even a plant or animal. I mean we can come up with explanations, flavor profiles, childhood formation of taste, family backgrounds, and so forth. Or academic analysis to do with disenfranchisement and the psychological appeal of narrative and beauty.

But sometimes often we like a thing because we like a thing.

I know, for humans, the "why" is our most powerful question. (Marketing also knows this, incidentally.) One of the reasons we tell stories AT ALL (to ourselves, to others, around a campfire in ancient times) is our search for the eternal why. It gave us mythology. It gave us religion.

But sometimes, especially with art, I feel like it's better just to dwell in wonder and grey spaces. The awe and the enjoyment itself, without understanding, it part of the experience.

Worship at the church of BL? Is that what this is? Maybe?

Some kinda thoughts anyway?

Generally these narratives provide a sense of comfort. Perhaps our love is something to do with characters who normally struggle (and usually are marginalized, tortured, killed and/or miserable) getting their happy evers? Perhaps it's because it's pure fantasy in terms of relationship. (I think for a lot of straight women there is something profoundly alluring in a gay relationship that they had/have no chance of every experiencing or being part of, the otherness itself is part of the appeal.) Perhaps its the lack, we never before had enough content to get obsessed over it to this level. (Let's not talk about the number of times I rewatched Latter Days after I got it on DVD, okay?)

I mean it's worth putting yourself through a thought experiment. Write down a list of ten things you like about BL that make it differnet from other kinds of media.

But you may find it's just like "why do I eat at Wendy's instead of Burger King?"

Because I like it better. They do the thing I like. (Spicy chicken sandwitch, FYI).

Perhaps it's something more profound, a kind of narrative sexual identity. It's the thing you desire. Then again, I'm pretty fluid in my desires, so I am comfortable with the idea of being attracted to different people at different points in my life. Just like being into different kinds of media at different times in my life.

I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, so long as:

It's not to addition level (damaging your emotional/financial well being)

You're comfortable with the notion that your tastes may change again

Other Questions

Do you mind if I ask again for BL recs? Because I know here are users that did not want to receive different asks from the same person.....

I am always happy to give out BL recs! The more specific the better. I consider it my primary service to humanity, at this juncture.

Also, no offense but I get so many asks from so many people I rarely remember who's asked me stuff before. Unless you have a very notable icon or style of writing, or interact with me regularly in comments & DMs. My memory is CRAPTASTIC. And I run multiple social media accounts several of which have much higher volume interactions than this one. It's not you it's the law of Dunbar's number. The human brain only really has the capacity for 150 social connections. And frankly, I don't know if I can manage even that many anymore.

Also, have you watched dmbj or read orv? Both series based on a novels that have very strong bromance vibe…..

Nope. I don't watch bromances if I can help it. Too much actual kissing these days to distract me, and I am one of those who wants some kissing for my queers.

Do you know that sotus, manner of death and 2together are adapted into manga? Before I found your blog, BL that I read are from manga and manhwa, and I was surprised when I knew that the series above are from thai drama (I know the manga first, sorry)…..

Yes and Yen Press picked up SOTUS for the USA print market. I'm hope to read that someday. I haven't tried MoD or 2g. I tend not to read reverse adaptations in general, not sure why. Also, I went off manga when it went primarily online. Never even experienced the manwha revolution. I'm old school enough to not enjoy graphic media scrolling. I miss turning pages "backwards" and getting amused my misstranslations.

Last ask, what do you think about BL or GL that make it better than het romance? Do you feel that too?

I don't like a value judgement like "better" on pop culture. I would just say "I personally enjoy it more" so I guess "better for me" would be how I might put it?

In my case? I think it's primarily that I spend so much of my life with little to no queer romance in it. And I mean modern romance all sappy and happy and cheesy and safe. It's just pure joy to have it available to me in such volume on my screen with such pretty trappings, flawed as it may be.

But also.

I just like it.

#asked and answered #i got a plane to catch #loves and cheese to the queer babies #thai bl #why do we like bl #just another random essay from p'abl

[riverxxxo]

Anger issues. : Steve Harrington.

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warning(s): anger issues, mention of depression. Hurtful Words. Angst. Language. Fluff.

You had been arguing a lot with Steve lately because of vecna and everything else. You were stressed and upset, hating yourself about what you told Steve during your anger fit. You didn't mean the words you said, but don't make everything okay.

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You had just gotten home, everything and everyone had been annoying you lately, and you didn't know why. Maybe because of the stress? Finding out vecna could kill us all? You've been getting snappy with Steve and not meaning to. You and Steve were enjoying a nice dinner as he spoke up, "love, can you get me a drink? Please?" Your eye twitched. you just wanted to be left alone as you nod. "and some ice..?" he'd smile softly as you hiss, looking down at the glass, nodding, "what's wrong?" Steve asked, frowning a bit, wondering if he had done something wrong. "Oh, nothing, don't worry about it."

"Y/n, something is going on. Please tell me I wanna help."

"I don't need anyone's fucking help, harrington."

Steve would look at you; his eyebrows furrowed "what's that supposed to mean..?"

You'd put his glass on the table, walking away, ignoring him as you walked over to the sink; Steve got up, wrapping his arms around your waist as you pushed him off, walking over to the stove. Steve standing there confused "y/n, are you going to tell me or not..? Have I done something..?

"Yeah, you have; you've gotten on my nerves all day, so if you could fuck off for a bit that would be nice."

Steve would look at you upset, "y/n.. I'm sorry, your parents had called earlier asking how you were because they haven't heard from you in a while. And the way you've been acting is starting to concern me."

You'd glare at him, slamming the dish down "it's not my fucking fault your parents never loved you enough to check up on you. Harrington "Steves's eyes well up with tears. It took a lot for this man to cry, but you just happened to do it." w-what..?"

You knew what you said, and you instantly regretted it. "Steve, I didn't mean it that way.." he would look at you with anger and hurt, tears rolling down his cheeks as he scoffed. "Oh? What did you fucking mean then y/n?."

You would shake your head, tears in your eyes, "I don't know.."

Steve would look at you as he got up, walking upstairs to his room and locking the door. You kneel on the floor, starting ahead; how could you have let your anger out on him? He's never done anything wrong to you. He's never snapped. But yet you take out your anger on him. He's so fragile with certain topics. His depression. His family, his childhood. His struggles. His pain and you were there for everything. He trusted you with everything he told you.

You sat there for what felt like hours when it had only been a half hour. You get up, walking up the stairs slowly, your heart beating in your chest, tears threatening to spill out. You reach his door and stand there momentarily before knocking quietly. "Stevie..?"

No answer.

"I know you're in there, Steve. Let me in so I can talk to you, please."

Still, no answer, so you Pick the lock, unlocking the door. There you saw him, Cuddled on his bed facing the wall, quietly crying, and it hurt your heart to see this because you know you're the one who caused it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out his window, "Steve, I'm sorry."

Steve shook his head. "I shouldn't have asked. That's one thing my parents always told me that I was the disgrace of the family, and maybe they're right.. Y/n.."

You shake your head no kissing him softly.

"Steve, it's not your fault. I was being a bitch. You aren't a disgrace. You're perfect the way you are; you always have been."

Steve sighed as he looked at you, as he laid his head back on the pillow. "You aren't a bitch, y/n. You're perfect the way you are. I just wish you wouldn't snap at me as much or use shit against me" you would nod softly, "I won't again, I promise.. I was acting stupid. You don't deserve it."

Steve would pull you into his arms, hugging you tightly, a quiet sob leaking between his lips, "I love you y/n; it's okay; I understand how you feel, and it's okay not to be okay."

You'd hug him tightly. "I love you the most, love; you mean everything to me; let's try to get some shut-eye, huh? We can go do something together in the morning, deal?" steve would nod, pulling you on top of him, kissing your forehead, covering you both up as you drifted to sleep.

Over the last few days, since the argument happened, you've gotten better. Things haven't been as bad as they have been, and talking to Steve helps. Something you should've done, but you were just afraid to. Waking up on steves chest, you look up at him asleep, snoring softly and his hair a mess. He looked beautiful, didn't he always? You'd move up just enough to kiss his cheek "good morning, my love, I'll be back soon, alright?" you got up slowly as he grumbled in his sleep. Walking downstairs, you turn the stove on, making some scrambled eggs and toast, his favorite. Humming, you pour a glass of milk and orange juice and put it on the table. Finishing up the eggs, you split them up, putting them on your and his plate along with the toast, and deciding to make some bacon. Going into the freezer and took out some frying it on the stove. You sit down waiting as Steve walks downstairs in his baggy blue Pj pants shirtless, his hair all messy as he smiles softly at you, seeing everything "you didn't have to do this, you know."

Smiling, you nodded, flipping the bacon "I know but I wanted to, you look handsome as always by the way."

Steve would sit down, "you're beautiful as always too darling" smiling, taking a drink of his milk, leaving him with a milk mustache you laughed at "oh my God, that's cute" he rolled his eyes, smiling, licking it off, squirting some ketchup on his eggs it making a fart sound as it did the both of you looking at each other trying to hold in a laugh. As you smirk, sticking your fingers in the ketchup, wiping it on his nose as he gasps, "I know you just didn't do that y/n," you'd smirk to yourself, "oh, but I did!" Steve smirks; he gets up and wipes ketchup on your face, too, as you both stand there and laugh "you're a dork, steve," he'd smile, kissing you softly. "I'm your dork."

Smiling you both, sit back down and eat your breakfast. Steve grabbed his bacon from the stove, groaning as he ate it. "Hey, do you wanna do anything later?" thinking as you drink your orange juice, "what about going for a little drive together?"

"I like that idea. Where to though?"

Smiling big, you suggest the spot you both used to hang out as kids. Both of you agree to it. You both get ready to head out. Getting in his car, you put your and his mixtape you made together in The slot as it starts to play the Steve miller band song "the joker," rolling down the windows smirking at Steve as the wind almost smacks his glasses off your face as you stifle a laugh snoring as you did so Steve rolling his eyes smiling at you "ha ha real funny y/n." driving along, Steve blowing through some dead lights you both finally get there as you smirk at Steve getting out of the car "whoever loses jumps in!" he would gasp as he takes off his shoes and starts off on a dead leaving you behind struggling to catch up "no fair Harrington!" you called out as he gets there first smirking picking you up as tosses you in the water. Jumping in after you kissing you softly, smiling as you said, "you make it world go round, Steve. I love you so much."

"And my love for you is greater than the universe, my love."

Taglist »»———-🖤———-««

@eddiemunsons-girl @sorrowbridge should I make a part 2? 🤔

Author notes:

this is the first imagine I've posted on this account and I haven't written in awhile so bare with me if it's crappy 😂 hope you enjoy

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#steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington headcannons #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington depression #stranger things imagine

[writingwitharlo]

Do The Thing

a/n: whoop, it's a big boy... think this is trapesing closer to worship territory than tickling but it is what it is. pls leave nice comments in the tags, i'm very much on the fence about this one

anon: 06. “Could you… do that to me?” with nick/charlie and make it about body positivity

Tickle Trope Prompts

(Heartstopper; Nick/Charlie)

3144 words

Warnings: body image struggles, ED struggles

Everyone struggles with their bodies. It was something Charlie was still learning. That didn't stop his brain from making him suffer regardless.

Charlie watched silently as Nick tried to organise some cables of his gaming console. Not that Nick was a messy person, by any means. Just every couple months, the small clutters would pile up to a state that bothered the older boy.

"It's not going to be any fun," he had told Charlie only earlier that day at school. "And it's actually kinda gross."

Charlie had shrugged. "I can still keep you company. Make sure you don't get distracted." A couple pokes to the other's ribs had been enough to get him to agree.

"Ah-Alright, alright. Even if you're gonna be the biggest distraction there."

"Mh-hm, right. Shut up and finish your essay."

It actually seemed a big help to Nick to just have someone there. At first, the bigger messes like dirty dishes and rubbish, disappeared quickly, not wanting to leave a bad impression, even if the two had been going out for quite a few months already.

Charlie didn't care. He knew how easy it was to lose track of the state of his room. He dreaded having to return home that evening, fully aware of the state his own room was in.

Once the cables were organised to Nick's liking, his next goal was the scatter of dirty laundry across his floor and piling up on his desk chair.

Except, as the older boy went to crouch, to push himself back up to his feet, the sound of tearing fabric made him freeze.

Charlie looked up from his phone, previously engrossed in curating an appropriate cleaning playlist. "What was th-aHah! Oh, no!" He slapped a hand over his mouth, which did little to muffle or reign in his surprised laughter.

A very obvious tear now graced the seat of Nick's jeans. Serves him right for not changing into some comfy sweatpants like he might have done any other day. But no. 'I'll be too comfortable then and not get anything done.' Well, at least that tactic had worked. Until now.

"Noo, I liked these," Nick whined but let out a laugh of his own. He moved to the mirror, trying to see how bad it was as he felt along the frays. "Yeah, there's no fixing that."

"How did you even do that?" Charlie was forced to bite down on his lip, still grinning like an idiot.

Nick scoffed playfully as he shimmied out of the jeans. "That's what happens with a  juicy, booty-licious arse." He made a point by shaking his butt a bit in Charlie's direction, which only made him snort with a cackle. "See? No tiny, twiggy butt to be found."

Their back and forth continued for another minute before Nick returned to the task at hand, seemingly happier without any jeans on, and Charlie focused back on his phone. Everything was fine. Until it wasn't.

That's not what he meant, he wasn't talking about me. But my arse is twiggy. Boney. He hates it. That's why he said that. I'm too skinny. Practically a skeleton. How could he ever love someone like me?

Without him even realising, Charlie's brain had latched onto Nick's words. A throwaway comment. A comment he had laughed at about not 30 minutes ago. But his spiralling didn't seem to go unnoticed.

"Char?"

Warm pressure at his ankle brought Charlie back to the present. He blinked, noticing the hand on his leg and following its arm until he reached a concerned face. "A-Are you done?"

Nick didn't reply immediately and only during the silence did Charlie notice the lack of music. He gazed at his phone to see that the playlist had finished. How long had he been zoned out?

"Right, sorry, uhm..." Charlie scrolled up and tapped the little shuffle icon, relieved as a familiar song awoke the little bluetooth speaker on Nick's dresser, albeit slightly more muffled. Nick must have turned the volume down.

Feeling Nick’s gaze linger, Charlie focused even more on his phone, refusing to meet his eye. 

Nick let out a soft sigh and went back to finishing up the last bit of cleaning he could be bothered about, knowing better than to force Charlie to talk. 

‘Great, now he’s annoyed with me too,’ Charlie thought, burying himself deeper in Nick’s hoodie. However, as if he had read his mind and just wanted to prove him wrong, Nick started to softly sing along to the music. Mostly to himself but very clearly not annoyed. That didn’t stop Charlie from scrolling through his phone almost manically, doing anything to stop himself from zoning out like that again.

“Ugh, finally.”

The mattress bounced under Nick’s weight as he dropped himself onto his bed beside Charlie. The latter lowered his phone, closing the game he had been playing for the last 15 minutes to glance around the room briefly. “Oh, you finished. Good job.” He patted Nick’s thigh and went to get up. “I should get home-”

“Wait, hang on.” A hand on his wrist made Charlie pause, slowly settling back in his spot. “Do I not get a congratulatory kiss?”

Charlie rolled his eyes playfully and leaned down, pressing his lips to the corner of Nick’s mouth. “Good jo-hmb.” Clearly, the older boy had other ideas on how his prize should look as he pulled Charlie back in for a proper kiss.

Even with Nick on his back, lying below him, Charlie could only go along with the other’s plans. The brush of a tongue against his lower lip was enough distraction to convince him to stay, however. 

A minute later they broke apart, both slightly breathless with rosy cheeks. Charlie brought a hand to Nick’s chest, using him to push himself upright again after being pulled down.

“Thanks,” Nick chirped, propping himself on his elbow. He took Charlie’s hand in his, refusing to let him get too far away, not ready to let him go home just yet. 

Charlie just stared at their hands, jaw clenching when Nick began to run his thumb over his boney knuckles. It took a lot of willpower not to pull his hand away.

“Not just for the kiss but for not letting me get distracted. And the music.” 

Charlie only gave a brief nod, fixing his eyes on the tidied desk. “That’s okay. Happy to help.” He felt a squeeze to his hand, and when he ignored it first, there was another. Hesitantly, he brought his gaze back to the other boy who was already looking at him with… fondness? No, that couldn’t be it-

“I love you.” There was no hesitation behind his words. Still it made Charlie’s brain short-circuit.

It wasn’t the first time he had heard those words. Those three special words. Thinking about the very first time still made him cringe a bit. How awkwardly he had gone about it.

“I-... Are you sure?” Charlie’s tone sounded playful, but to him, it was a genuine question. Did Nick really love him? Or did he just pity him, like Ben had?

“Hmm…” Nick pretended to think about the answer for a moment but fairly quickly came to a conclusive answer. “Yeah, pretty sure- Wait.” He laughed when he noticed Charlie’s reaction. “Why are you crying?” But as the other brought his hand up to cover his face, Nick’s smile faltered. “Hey, whoa, Char…”

Nick scrambled to sit up, arms flying around Charlie’s shaking shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” The younger boy buried his face in Nick’s chest, practically slumping into his lap. He shook his head. This was not how an okay person reacted to a love confession. What was he even crying about? This was ridiculous.

Rubbing soothing circles into Charlie’s back, Nick tried not to let his concern filter into his voice, knowing his boyfriend would just beat himself up if he knew he had upset Nick in any way. He continued to mumble sweet nothings, letting Charlie know that he was safe, that he wouldn’t be leaving his side. Nick couldn’t say he had been expecting this reaction, but from the way Charlie had been acting earlier, perhaps he should have known that it was something bigger.

It took some time but Charlie’s breaths rattled less with every passing minute until there was only the occasional sniffle every now and again. Nick could feel he was getting ready to pull away and gave him a reassuring squeeze, paired with a kiss to his messy curls, before allowing him to sit up again. 

Charlie used the back of his sleeve to dry his eyes before noticing the damp stain he had left on Nick’s t-shirt. “Oh, fuck. Sorry.” A watery laugh mingled with the words as he brought his hand up to try and dab it dry.

Nick just shook his head with a lopsided smile, holding onto Charlie’s wrist. It seemed the worst had washed away with the tears. “It’s just a shirt,” he mumbled and ducked his head in an attempt to catch Charlie’s gaze. “There you are.” He cupped Charlie’s face with both hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks before he pressed a gentle kiss to one, then the other. “I’m pretty sure congratulatory cuddles were also part of the deal.”

Charlie raised his brow slightly, as if ready to argue that he had never entered such a deal but cuddles sounded like just the right thing so he just nodded. He keeled forward bringing his arms around Nick’s neck, his weight pressing against Nick’s chest and they both toppled over, each with a huff of their own. 

Nick fished around for Charlie’s phone, changing the music to a more cosy playlist before tossing it aside and fully engulfing the other boy with his arms. He could feel Charlie playing with his hair and gave an approving hum, head tilting slightly for better access. 

Charlie wasn’t sure how much time passed. The playlist was long. He had made it himself, after all. They had adjusted themselves slightly after about ten minutes to stop any limbs from falling asleep, and since then, Nick’s hands were beneath the hoodie, fingers drawing random shapes into the fabric of the shirt he wore beneath. 

It was comforting and distracting at the same time. Comforting enough that Charlie melted into the touch but so distracting, that all his brain wanted was to ask one specific question. The only problem was, he had never asked this question before. And with the way Nick’s hand was starting to pause every now and again, it couldn’t be long until the older boy would doze off. 

“Nick?” 

“Yeah?” Or maybe not.

Nothing more came and Nick’s eyes fluttered open. The surprise on Charlie’s face told him he had not expected him to still be awake. And in all honesty, he didn’t think Charlie was either.

Charlie’s nerve, that he had built up over the last three songs, was gone with one look from Nick’s warm eyes. “Uhm, could-” He couldn’t do it. His head ducked down and he buried himself in the crook of Nick’s neck. Maybe from here… He tried again.

“Could I what?” Nick asked, the muffled voice too intelligible, even right beside him. 

Charlie huffed and Nick was pretty sure he could feel the blush against his neck. “Do the thing?” 

Nick’s eyes narrowed in thought, unsure how to decipher the requisition. “‘The thing’?... What thing?”

A bit of a whine mingled with the second huff. Surely he was just messing with him. It was so obvious what he meant.

Nick chuckled, although apologetic, still amused by the other’s flustered frustration. “I’m sorry, Char. What thing? I don’t think we’re thinking about the same thing right now.”

Charlie buried himself deeper, refusing to answer. Or rather, too embarrassed to answer. It was a silly request anyway.

But Nick was patient… and knew how to persuade an answer out of him. He resumed his treatment against Charlie’s back, drawing generous swirls into the relaxed muscles, only to accidentally drift too close to more sensitive zones every now and again. 

It wasn’t enough to draw any audible reaction, but when Charlie shrunk back with a flinch, Nick was ready to give a totally sincere apology.

“That,” Charlie breathed out and Nick’s brain stalled. “Could-... Could you… do that… to me? The way you did last time?”

Nick moved his head back slowly so he could get a glimpse at Charlie’s face and was met with the most sheepishly innocent look. A grin lit up Nick’s face and he just nodded, planting a reassuring kiss against his temple before pulling back, giving Charlie enough space to get himself comfortable.

Once Charlie was in position, he looked over at Nick and gave his okay. Propped on his elbows, settled between Charlie’s legs, Nick slowly brought his hands beneath the hoodie again. Except this time, they intentionally found their way beneath the shirt to make contact with the warm skin below.

Charlie couldn’t help the soft gasp and brought a hand up over his mouth, unintentionally sucking his stomach in. “Shh,” Nick soothed, unable to stop smiling at his reaction. His hands trailed over his tense belly until the muscles finally relaxed, his touches slow and steady but deliberate, always leaving enough pressure that Charlie didn’t feel like curling up on himself.

 “How’s that?” Nick asked after a few minutes, his hands now moving in a predictable pattern.

Charlie hummed, eyes closed and one hand holding onto Nick’s forearm (just in case). “Don’t stop.” Once he knew where Nick’s hands were moving, it was easier to let go, his breath evening out as he focused on the trail of tingles Nick’s fingers left behind.

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “Wasn’t thinking about it.” Perhaps this would become their new ritual.

This wasn’t the first time they had found themselves in this position. Although, the first time, their roles were reversed.

The boys had been out to eat with the rest of the Paris Squad. It had been someone’s birthday. There was pizza and burgers and chips and milkshakes. By the time Nick and Charlie got back to a bed, Nick had started to regret taking Darcy up on that bet, who could finish their milkshake the fastest. He had groaned most of the way home and even lying down hadn’t helped. He had just felt gross and like he never wanted to eat again.

Of course, Charlie had taken it upon himself to lift his boyfriend’s mood. Teasing and playful, it hadn’t taken long until light fluttering touches circulated over Nick’s belly. Had it not been for Nick’s worry of throwing up if he laughed too much, the treatment might have helped. But Charlie had been happy enough to shift gears. Slowing down and with more deliberate touches, Nick had eventually been able to relax, the soft zings from Charlie’s fingers lulling him in.

The second time, Nick had come to hang out at Charlie’s, only to find him bundled up with a thick jumper under his covers on one of the sunniest days of that spring. Without having to ask, Nick had crawled into bed with him, letting the other vent while offering his comfort. When Nick pointed out how much Charlie’s treatment had helped him that one time, Charlie didn’t see how he had anything to lose. It had taken a lot more convincing and adjusting for Charlie to trust the process but eventually settled down, practically turning to jelly in Nick’s hands.

Just like now. Despite Nick’s touches being considerably lighter from when he started, Charlie was still able to tolerate them, his fingers following the same path over and over. Down his stomach, along his waistband, over his hips, up his sides, across his ribs, down his stomach. It was almost mesmerising, even for Nick. And the lighter touches left behind a pleasant prickle on Charlie’s skin. 

Nick glanced up at Charlie. It was hard to tell if he was asleep or not but at least the corners of his mouth were turned upwards, only to turn down again when Nick’s hands slowed. “Noo,” Charlie whined quietly, lifting his head to look down at Nick.

“Just a short break.” The position wasn’t the best but Nick would take sore arms over a sore back any day. “Did it help?”

Charlie felt his cheeks heat up and he nodded, squeezing Nick’s forearm. “A lot. I see why you enjoyed it so much.”

Nick laughed that warm, gentle laugh of his. The one he reserved for quiet moments like these. “You’re cute.” His hands held onto Charlie’s hips, holding them steady as his head dipped down. The soft lips against his warm skin caught Charlie by surprise but couldn’t help but hum when the peppering continued over the rest of the exposed skin.

Something about every individual spot getting the same level of love and attention felt even more… intimate. And after just a couple minutes, it was too flustering to bear.

“Come here,” Charlie whispered, giving Nick’s arm a tug and soon let their lips collide.

The sound Nick made into his mouth made it obvious that he hadn’t expected such a kiss but was quick to follow along. They made out for a bit until simply settling down beside each other, wrapped up in each other’s arms, much like before. “Thanks.”

Nick hummed. “What for?”

“Don’t.” Charlie dropped his hand from where it was playing with his hair to flutter over the back of his neck.

“You’re welcome,” Nick laughed, shoulders scrunching up.

It would have been so easy to just drift off right then and there, if it weren’t for the pit in Charlie’s stomach. Just it wasn’t a pit of guilt or worry but something he was still learning to recognise for what it was.

"Nick?"

"Hm?"

"I-... I don't think I've eaten today."

"Oh, Char." It wasn’t resentment, or annoyance or disappointment, just gentle scolding.

“I know.”

Nick planted a last kiss to Charlie’s jaw before moving to the edge of his bed, his hand held out for Charlie to take. “Let’s go change that.”

Charlie eyed his hand, one side of his mouth pulling up higher. “Are you cooking?” He took the hand to pull himself upright before getting to his knees to position himself against Nick’s back.

Nick chuckled, placing his hands over the arms that settled over his chest. “Looks like I am.” He got to his feet slowly, slightly bent at the hip to accommodate the extra weight on his back. “But only if you’re sharing.”

“Hm, fine. But only ‘cause you’re cute. And because I love you. And because I’ll get to watch you cook in your underwear.”

“Yeah, but not only in my underwear.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

#tickle fic #heartstopper tickle fic #ticklish!charlie spring #ticklish!nick nelson #body worship #nick and charlie #nick/charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #tickling #heartstopper

[anystalker707]

Home

Pairing: Frank x Reader Word count: ~ 2 100 Genre: Comfort / Fluff Summary: Frank is finally back after touring for a long time and delayed flights.

Requested by @lubbockshusband [How about after my chem being on tour frank is just tired and wants to be home to his s/o (...)]

Despite the long months that dragged by, the house still feels awfully empty and way too silent. It’s right, though—getting used to this isn’t an option. The days feel awfully longer, and not even hours spent working or on facetime seem to make time decide to go any faster.

Something about seeing Frank’s pictures on tour doesn’t have only this anguish and longing twisting in my chest, but also pride and happiness, which diminishes the desire for him to come back so soon; he enjoys it far too much, even more after so long. Nonetheless, I still want him here, to hug and kiss and cuddle, to prepare my favorite dish when I’m too lazy to cook anything.

Everything has been feeling worse during these last days, though, given how Frank was supposed to have arrived earlier in a flight that ended up not happening and had the band stuck in another continent for a few of days so far without the— Well, I wouldn’t say they have no foreknowledge regarding when they’re coming back, I’d say that just I have no idea of when they’re returning because they didn’t inform me on anything. Typical of them, in a way, but still doesn’t fail in making me worry.

Fuck it, next time I’m packing it up and going with him, it doesn’t matter what my boss says.

A sigh escapes my nose—maybe a little heavier than it should because even Soup is whining as she nuzzles my leg lightly. She is looking at me when I turn to look at her, and I don’t know which of us feel worse about this, but I still try to have her lighten up a little, petting her head before I slide open the door to the backyard; the sound is enough to even have Lois show up from God knows where to go outside, so Soup ends up following her.

“Right,” I mumble, tapping the pen repeatedly against the paper in a hope it’ll help me ground myself easier so I can actually make a list of what I’ll need the next time I go to the grocery store instead of staring at the paper sitting on the marble counter all night long.

This shouldn’t be so hard. Things aren’t like that just because Frank isn’t here, right? I hate how it feels like my fingers just don’t grip the pen right, my toes just can’t sit together comfortably against the ground, and my clothes sometimes feel too rough against my back, and—

“Fuck!”

Did I hear it right or am I hallucinating things? I hold my breath, frozen still, making sure I’m making no noise.

“Fucking shit!” The sound of rattling follows, finished by a thud.

Alright, I’m fucking sane. I think. I put the pen aside to go to the living room to check, and there stands Frank with his back turned to me and his bag by his feet while he struggles to set his guitar case and another bag down. He continues cursing under his breath, probably undoing some of the straps and soon his other bag meets the ground.

“You’re back already!” I move to close the door, enough to have him look at me with wide eyes, and help him put the guitar case down. “Couldn’t even let me know you were on the way back?”

“Sorry!” Frank purses his lips, groaning as he nudges his bag with his foot so it won’t fall over, and maybe he nudges it for more times than needed with a stress that takes over shamefully fast. “I got too caught up on things, I just couldn’t wait to see you!” His voice grows whiny the way it always does when he arrives home after a long day, overwhelmed, and something shifts and warms up in my chest with it, finally having all the feelings inside it settle down once his arms are around me for a hug, his face buried in my shoulder. “It was so good! The tour, I mean! These last days have been so stressful, though, I—” Frank interrupts himself with a sigh, which is followed by his stomach’s grumbling.

A smile tugs on my lips and I press a kiss to the side of Frank’s face, nuzzling him a little. He still smells a little different, but it’s just a small edge that doesn’t make him any less comforting. “I’m sure it was, and I can’t wait to know everything that happened! Why don’t you take a shower to calm down and relax for now while I fix you some food, then we can talk, hm?”

“Yeah, right,” Frank breathes as he starts to pull back just to stop midway, his hands resting on my forearms to give them a soft squeeze as if reassuring himself it’s real. A wide grin tugs on his lips whilst a soft sigh escapes my lips; my heart flutters.

“Remember to breathe and go!” I roll my eyes, cupping the side of his neck to bring him close enough for a soft kiss before I pull away—because he won’t do it himself—to walk back to the kitchen, giving his ass a light slap when I walk past him. He is still grumbling on his way upstairs, but he never receives the attention he seeks with it.

Relaxing and calming down are two things that Frank hardly does in general, hence there’s no real surprise in how he clearly remains in his vibrating-in-excitement state when walking into the kitchen again with his wet hair combed back, some shorts and an old band shirt. He’s about to say something, sucking in a breath, but his words are replaced by a gasp as he runs to the backyard. Soup barks once and it’s more than enough for me to know what’s going on; I chuckle, glancing through the glass doors while I serve Frank’s food.

“Frank?” I call, hopefully loud enough. “Come eat. You know they’ll follow you.” I move to grab a can of juice from the fridge and he still doesn’t show up, only doing so when I’m about to call for him again, walking into the kitchen with a poorly suppressed smile under my glare. Shaking my head, I put the can down, watching him finally take a seat after struggling to walk down the kitchen without stepping on—or tripping over—Soup and Lois. “So?”

Frank’s features fall softer, still with happiness lingering on them, as he takes the fork in hand and hums softly, messing with the food a bit, pausing a little and only then I notice Soup sitting next to him with her head on his lap whilst Lois is probably by the other side of the chair, given his glances. “Well, you know most of what happened, of course.” He tilts his head with a light shrug, leaning in to bring the fork to his mouth. Not like Frank was able to spend a day without at least sending me a thousand texts, which could also be accompanied by a call or facetime, which also lasted over an hour, regularly. “But yeah, the last days have been complicated since the flight was canceled and stuff. Like, I don’t know how Ray could fucking keep calm during all of it.” He rolls his eyes as he reaches for the can juice.

“Or maybe it’s about how you guys were too desperate about all of it.” I scoff mockingly—he has a point, whatsoever, I know how anxious the guys can be and how they probably already had plans for when they returned home, just for everything to be ruined in short notice—and pull a chair to take a seat across from him.

Frank twists his mouth, scoffing, and sips on the drink. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Go on,” I chuckle. Fuck, I missed everything about him, from his presence to the little tantrums. I reach for the can, taking a sip of it as well, maybe because I really want it, maybe because I just crave more interaction with him. The way he glares at me playfully snatches another chuckle from me terribly easily.

Frank hums, pursing his lips. “Right, so we had to find a hotel so we could stay in the city until the next flight and stuff. I didn’t really know what was going on because I didn’t really talk their language and stuff, and I was too desperate,” he mocks my tone while scrunching his nose, compelling me to snort.

The house finally isn’t so empty anymore. It’s also warm—not that it was exactly cold before—and comfortable again. None of us shut up for a single moment, no matter if we’re telling each other the things we already talked about before just because the urge to hear more of each other’s voice in person is huge. Keeping myself from touching him in some way the whole time is impossible. Like he’s a fucking mirage. Six months are so fucking long, way too long.

After all this time, it’s difficult to even leave each other for a couple of minutes, as if one of us were to disappear just for the lack of the other’s presence. Pathetic, yes, hopeless even. Either way, things are fine again when we’re finally under the covers, snuggled together in the comfort of our bed. It doesn’t even take Frank five minutes and he’s putting his phone aside on the nightstand after messing with it for a moment—probably turning on the do-not-disturb mode given how the notifications decrease—before he moves over to lie on top of me.

“Oh, my God,” he practically groans into my chest, shifting around until he finds a nice position, with his cheek pressed to my shoulder whilst his breath fans over my neck. “I missed this so bad...” His words run one into the other, almost as if he were melting.

“Yeah, me too.” A smile tugs on my lips, and I take a moment to feel his chest moving against me as he breathes, inevitably synchronizing it for a few seconds, which pretty much goes in vain since he’s still breathing rather fast. “F—”

“What about you, though?” He asks, letting his fingers fidget with the creases on my shirt. “How were these last days?”

“I had just been working, mostly.” I give in with a sigh, hoping I will help him calm down by running my fingers through his hair, taking my time on the strands on the back of his neck since he always loves it when I mess with his hair there. “Monday was a very busy day, but I finished everything a little before lunch both today and yesterday, so I was mostly hanging out with Soup and Lois. I was actually making the shopping list when you arrived.”

“Sounds like Monday sucked.” He clicks his tongue. “Did you add burgers to the list? I’ve really been wanting to eat some. Or homemade pizza, y’know.”

“I don’t think so, but we can add it to the list tomorrow.” I hold back a yawn; I don’t want to sleep just yet, I need to spend at least a little more time with him.

Frank gasps softly, and shifts as he brings himself up on his elbows. “Well, but what if we forget about it? It would really suck, I really want to cook with you again! You could even take the day off so—”

“Frank.”

“—we can spend the whole day together, y’know? It would be—”

“Frank!” I can’t help but to glare at him; my heart heaves with how he pouts, looking at me with wide and lost eyes. “Frank,” I say softer this time as I bring him closer again to resume his previous position against me, “you said you’ve been craving it lately, so I’m sure you won’t wake up tomorrow just not craving it anymore. Not to mention that you’re back now.” My fingers run through his hair again, sometimes scratching his scalp just the way he likes it. “We can do it whenever. You don’t need to worry, okay? You’re home. Just relax. There are no canceled or delayed flights anymore.”

A long silence follows, and Frank’s breathing slows down gradually, eventually matching mine instead at the same time the tension unravels away from his muscles and he shifts a little around me until finding a position much better than the previous one, though still lying on top of me, with our legs tangled, and allowing me to play with his hair.

“It’s good to be back,” Frank sighs, letting his forehead press to my neck as he shifts closer, his eyelashes tickling my neck. “I missed you so bad. I love you so much. Too much.”

“Yes, I know how it feels.” I smile hopelessly. “I love you.”

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tagging list: @trans-ylvania | @newgirlinhell

#poison.fic #my chem #my chemical romance #fan fic #fan fiction #frank iero x reader #frank iero #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #x female reader #x non binary reader #mcr #mcr x reader #oneshot #x reader #imagine #mcr imagine