#moving gelatine plates

[bad-prog-rock-ideas]

post this dude rn

#rly good album btw check it out #moving gelatine plates

[conshirtoe]

There’s a Spotify glitch where if you upload something, sometimes it creates a double account of the artist. My brother is trying to rectify this glitch for his own band, and I think that’s what happened to Moving Gelatine Plates too.

#interesting #moving gelatine plates #talkin talkin

[thephilosopheroftheboudoir]

Moving Gelatine Plates

London Cab

from the lp Moving Gelatine Plates

#moving gelatine plates #canterbury scene #nurse with wound list #progressive rock #prog rock #jazz rock #Youtube

[bungitonthen]

25/4/23

the isle of everywhere:    a. the melting feast of freaks - the switch doctor turns everybodies       third eye on but where is zero?    b. get it inner & do the dither for zero is spaced out on fruitcake            again    c. peace of mind or piece of cake or zero goofs again ... you never blow yr trip forever  -  gong  (you)

el viaje de anabelas ... sueños de maniqui  -  bubu  (anabelas)

last song ... memories  -  moving gelatine plates  (moving gelatine plates)

ufo ... smog alado* ... miragem ... passaro de luz  -  bacamarte  (depois do fim)

soundpool ... laila II  -  agitation free  (last)

*hear the pfm reference?

#gong #daevid allen #steve hillage #bubu #moving gelatine plates #bacamarte #agitation free

[myearspleasure]

MERCREDI 29 MARS 2023

MOVING GELATINE PLATES - THE WORLD OF GENIUS HANS

#music #record collection #vinylrecords #moving gelatine plates

[schrodingers-lesbian]

move over dad im getting my prog recs from tumblr users now /hj

#.txt #THANK U WHOEVER POSTED ABOUT MOVING GELATIN PLATES #no clue what theyre saying ofc but this shit fucks

[squidwen]

🐙After Hours with Azul

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Synopsis: You spend a lot of time at the Mostro Lounge, and Azul’s starting to wonder why. You’re not some creepy stalker girlfriend, are you? You two might be “official,” but you’re at the Lounge all the time!

However, Azul reckons there’s a reason behind it that’s deeper. More serious. After taking you to his room, the pair of you snuggle up, arms, legs, and tentacles, and Azul’s hearts simply can’t take the real reason behind your frequent visits.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You preferred the Mostro Lounge after-hours. It seemed more like an actual Lounge, with nothing but the cool lights and the final tunes of the piano player on the stage. No one bothered you either. None of the waiters told you to leave. No one even offered to clear your drink and plate away. The staff cleaned their tables, hung up their aprons, and that was that.

Except for Azul.

He got up from the piano and crossed the Lounge over to your booth. Your breath hitched at his cool hand on your shoulder. You always preferred him without gloves. His hands were beautiful; long, slender fingers with a callous on his right middle one from years and years of endless writing.

‘Another evening claimed by my establishment,’ mused Azul.

At last, you moved. His words thawed you enough to stand.

Azul welcomed you into his arms. His other hand sparked against your ribcage as he rubbed circles into your back. Somehow his chilly touch melted you. You became almost gelatinous in his embrace, as if you were the octopus rather than the warm, sweet little human.

‘You’re coming here more often, angelfish,’ Azul said.

‘Naturally. The foods good and the music’s even better.’

‘I’m sure the music is not better.’

You pulled away.

Azul held onto you. ‘Sorry-’

‘You’re still doing it.’

‘It’s a bad habit.’

‘You need to stop thinking you’re not good enough.’

Your kiss on the shell of his ear silenced any protests. Azul shivered with bliss.

Everyone else had already left; there was no point in keeping up airs. Who would you be trying to impress? Azul was stronger than he looked. Although he masqueraded as a human, he still retained most of his cecaelian strength, and he lifted you out of the booth. You felt as though you were floating. You were as weightless as the exotic fish in the giant Lounge fish tank.

Azul tucked you into his chest, one arm under your legs and another under your back. You smelled his cologne; lavender and something that reminded you of the sea. The tips of his bangs tickled your forehead. Together, you slipped out of the Lounge and through the halls of Octavinelle, hiding around corners for the coast to be clear before ploughing on towards Azul’s bedroom.

A snap of the fingers and the door swung open.

A lilac bed, freshly made, beckoned you forward. Azul laid you gently down. The duvet and mattress moulded to your figure, gasping and depressing as you wriggled your shoes off. ‘I can’t believe you had the energy for that!’ you laughed. ‘After playing all night.’

Azul laid down beside you. His hands, warmed by your back and thighs, searched for yours and brought them to his lips. ‘It’s the nature of octopuses to be dextrous, my dear. Three hours of piano playing was nothing but a warmup.’

‘How modest.’

Azul reddened.

You kissed his nose. ‘Tell me more. If you can brag to anyone it would be me. Not that I need to be told about how amazing you are. You just carried me up to the top of Octavinelle as if it was nothing. I bet Jack couldn’t even do that.’

Azul, however, did not bring up anything. It still didn’t feel right to. Not with you. Not yet. He was still so new to this. He had never loved anyone before, and the pair of you had only made your relationship official a few weeks ago. Azul was trying to strike a balance between impressing you, and boasting. He wanted to seem cool, not conceited. You already accepted him for what he looked like… for some reason, but surely there was only so much you could take. You could tolerate ugliness, but vanity?

‘A good businessman never puts all his cards on the table,’ said Azul.

You rolled your eyes. ‘Business talk? Here?’

Shoot, Azul thought. Play it cool. ‘You are in the bedroom of the dorm leader of Octavinelle and the manager of the Mostro Lounge.’

‘I thought I was in my boyfriend’s bedroom.’ You started to pull away again. Azul gripped you tightly. His strong fingers were like suction cups. ‘Come on, Azul,’ you sighed. ‘If you’re a businessman, does that make me a customer? Or some associate? I know this is new to you. It’s new to me too. But just… let yourself be… well, mine. Even if it can only be in this room. I need that.’

You shifted closer to him and snaked your arm under his head. His ear rested in the crook of your elbow, letting your fingers fiddle with his hair. The fedora fell away. His locks were stringy from hours under a hat, but you didn’t mind. It was like his head was a giant snowdrop; the petals stuck together as it tried to bloom after a long winter.

Azul drew closer. The bed creaked.

‘My angelfish,’ he breathed.

You hummed.

‘Why do you stay at the Lounge for so long?’

Your stroking stopped.

Azul tensed. ‘If you don’t want to say then-’

‘No, no. It’s fine. It must seem creepy, like I’m some crazy stalker girlfriend who watches your every move now that we’re together. But it’s not. Seven, it’s not. I just… it’s just a soothing place. Some people like the library. Others like the park. But the Mostro Lounge is perfect for me. I’ve been going there all year just to unwind. You might not have noticed. You’re always so busy.’

‘No other reason?’

It was your turn to tense.

Azul detected it immediately.

Sitting up, his cerulean eyes pierced into you like icicles. He was the businessman again. All the tenderness had been leached out of him. Something was wrong. He knew it. Something he was determined to get to the bottom of. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you being at the Lounge. He loved it. Your presence always made him play better, and he was happy to smuggle you on-the-house desserts whenever he could. But you had been showing up too often, as if you were hiding, or escaping, something.

‘Let’s not have secrets from each other,’ he said.

‘Secrets?’

‘Please, angelfish.’ Azul blinked and his eyes became gentle again. The eyes of a lover; lidded and pleading. To prove that he was being open – and to give you permission to do the same – he lay down beside you again and transformed back into a cecaelia. His skin speckled with lilac until it was completely purple; his legs unravelling into eight black and purple tentacles.

Azul couldn’t meet your eyes as he transformed. It embarrassed him. He felt so grotesque. So hideous. But then, you came to him again, and wrapped your arms around his torso. The feeling faded. Azul took you into his arms.

The tentacles wound around your legs like ribbons around maypoles. Cool and slick; the suction cups kissing your exposed skin, making it prickle with gooseflesh. You stayed still to invite them higher. Azul delighted in the feel of you. You were more detailed when he held you this way. He sensed every inch of you. You were beautiful, and more tentacles came up to bind you.

Around your waist. Around your hips. Around your stomach. With ease, they pulled you in close to Azul. The cecaelia buried your face in his chest. You could hear his three heartbeats. They were fast. You couldn’t help but smile into Azul’s shirt.

‘Are you comfortable, my darling?’ Azul asked.

You nodded, too relaxed for words. Azul’s touch was velvety soft. All your dark bindings were gentle and plush, like a caterpillar wrapped in a chrysalis.

A final tentacle cupped the back of your head. You shivered as the suction cups kissed your scalp. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but it brought you out of your comfort just enough to feel like talking again. ‘What about you?’

‘I’m at my best when you’re with me,’ Azul said.

You melted a little more. ‘Same here. And I confess, that’s the reason why.’

‘Why what?’

‘I’m sorry. I know I’ve come on too strong and I’ve spooked you.’

‘No, not at all.’

‘I just…I… you know you’re my best friend.’

Azul’s heartbeats got even faster. ‘A-And you’re mine,’ he breathed. ‘The Leech twins… they’re not the same as you.’

‘The others aren’t the same as you either. Don’t get me wrong, Ace and Deuce are great, but they’re like twins, and Jack and Epel are dedicated to sports, and Sebek’s obsessed with Malleus. I sort of feel like I just touch-base with them, but I spend time with you. And even if it’s not “with” you, just to see you, hear you play, admire who my partner is, even just sit in your Lounge, is enough.’ You mustered the strength to crane your head back and kiss his jaw. ‘I’m millions of miles from home, but I somehow feel there when I’m with you.’

Azul had never heard anything like it. You were so sweet. So kind. No one ever complimented him without wanting his attention, or recognition; without wanting something in return. Octavinelle was full of sychophants, none bigger than the Leech twins, but you… you were as pure as driven snow. You loved every inch of him, inside and out; something Azul had thought was impossible for him to find. To deserve.

His tentacles bundled you up even more, pressing you in close until it was almost uncomfortable. His suction cups kissed you. Thousands of kisses. Small pecks, until the tentacle cupping the back of your head lifted you to Azul’s lips.

Velvet. Smooth. Soft.

When you broke away, you were both breathless, and exhaustion descended upon you. The night had been long; the conversation hard. Azul loosened his grip on you but kept his tentacles in place. He could think of nothing sweeter than to fall asleep to the feeling of you, and you didn’t mind. You had never been so comfortable; so warm and welcome.

With a final kiss, you snuggled into your cecaelia and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic thump of Azul’s heartbeats.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Author note: Well hey! It’s been a while!

I hope you enjoyed the fic! I had to write an Azul one after being away for so long! He’s by far my fav character, and it was his birthday recently so I think we’re all in Azul-mode atm.

If you liked it, please like, comment, and share.

- Squidwen

#fluffle writes #reader x azul #azul ashengrotto x mc #squidwen #azul ashengrotto x reader #reader x Azul Ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #reader x twisted wonderland #fanfic azul #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #reader insert #octavinelle #cecaelia #octopus

[kunikukitty]

✐ Always An Artist, Never The Muse

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!reader

xi. covet

The last time you held a pencil was a couple of months ago, and it was used for shading your answers in exam.

You prepared yourself mentally before going here, yet you really cannot run away for too long.

You thought that messaging Mona would atleast ease your nerves, but it's no use, you're still overwhelmed. Being inside an art studio where you're surrounded by different types and brands of mediums is surely taking a toll on your mind.

You're tempted to pick up something, whatever it is, anything could be used to create strokes and form a shape.

But you can't. The materials not being yours is one thing, but the fact that it might cause you to actually give up on art. Because yes, you still have hope, you are still wishing for that talent to magically come back to you, just not yet.

You remember the times of your frustration. A blank paper awaits in front of you to be filled with yet another masterpiece. With a flick of your wrist, you guided your pencil to leave an ink behind. You did it a few more times, but it's not turning out good.

Erase, draw, erase and draw.

The lines ain't making sense, the paper is almost ripped due to the continuous erasing. You're beginning to lose your patience, the image in your head is turning blurry. The more you try to correct the mistake, the worse they get. It is the only thing you're capable of doing, so you have to finish it. You cannot fail.

Silly you thought it was just an artblock, and you told yourself that you cannot have that now. You have to fight it. You have to create something. You did not allow yourself to rest until you manage to draw something pretty.

You tried, tried and tried again and again. Until your hand stopped moving and your creativity dried up.

You remember how your wrists, fingers, and inside your head feels like there's something so itchy internally that you cannot soothe.

"What are you doing?"

You were surprised that you almost let out a gasp. You looked over to the door to see Scaramouche looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "I suggest not to steal anything, I have all of my materials memorized."

The gasp now left your mouth. "Are you accusing me of thievery?!"

He simply shrugged, and when he put down something that's when you noticed he's holding a tray, with food in it.

"Wow, I didn't expect you're the type to give food to your guests."

"Yeah, right? Shocking. Especially to you? I'm too kind." He rolled his eyes at you. "Quick. Eat now so we can start."

"Oh wait, you mean... you'll paint me eating?"

"You just confirmed my assumption of you. You're pretty stupid." He remained indifferent while you glare at him. "I told you I'm too kind, didn't I? I'm letting you eat before making you stay still."

'Oh yes, of course of course...' you muttered irritably under your breath as you walked towards the table where he placed the tray. He managed to hear them, even heard his name being cursed—a predictable response from you, really.

Nonetheless, you're thankful. Although you aren't on good terms(but not really much on bad terms either) with each other, he still prepared something for you. He can choose not to, but he did. Not to mention, you are indeed hungry right now.

You look at the plate and it's a... jelly? Transparent too, but you can't make out what's inside. The most dominant color is light brown, and theres some orange, yellow, white— maybe it's a gelatin cake? You've only seen those in videos, where they decorate floral designs and whatnots inside the gelatin. This jelly is not as pretty, though.

You took the spoon he prepared and sliced a small piece, and the texture inside interests you. The spoon glides easily unto it yet at the middle part it gets a little hard— and inside the brown part is white. You took a closer look by bringing the spoon close to your face, the closeness made the scent of it go through your nostrils.

By the look of it, it seems like a— wait... is that...

"Is this meat??? Inside a jelly?!" You were appalled. Is this a joke? Is this a prank? Your eyes are wide open as you looked at him, stunned.

"What?" He clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "That's a traditional snezhnayan dish, kholodets. How rude of you to react that way."

Wait, what? "Oh." You calm yourself. Right, you're in a different country, their cuisine is different from your homeland. Now you feel bad from reacting like that, it's no different from his earlier statements about blind people, you think.

Not wanting to stoop down his level, you fixed your composure and sat straight. "Right, sorry." you say with seemingly matured tone, putting the spoon down.

"I even chose carefully what to serve you, especially after I heard from Caps that you're a picky eater." He said, shaking his head and clicking his tongue again repeatedly. He looked so disappointed, too.

You may dislike him, that's true, but you're a person with morals. You don't like upsetting people unless you're purposely doing so.

So took the spoon again in your hand, the little piece still in the scoop, then you brought it into your mouth.

Your eyebrows contort in disgust as you taste the unfamiliar food. Boiled meat with meaty jelly, complex seasoning and unusual flavor— you don't understand. The jelly... is it supposed to be the broth? It doesn't go well, in your opinion. Disturbing, for you.

Amidst your evaluation of the taste, your ears caught on a quiet chuckle.

You turn your head, only to see Scaramouche looking down at you as if belittling you.

"So it's true," he starts, "for foreigners, kholodets is unappetizing at first glance. I really thought you wouldn't give it a taste, but you did. How surprising."

The face you make is that of someone who just got betrayed. He doesn't even look like a snezhnayan himself! You forced to swallow the bits in your mouth, "You..!"

The remaining chance for your relation with him to be amended is completely gone now. How dare he? You regret playing nice with him. Men are truly atrocious beings. How can Capitano even tolerate this guy?

You're utterly shock. And how did the fucker react now? Giggling, like an ass. He looks too amused, in fact.

While he's in a laughing state, you took the time to drink water.

"Glad to give you fun. Didn't know you're so childish."

He shrugged, unaffected. "You won't eat anymore?"

His sarcastic smile is annoying you. You really shouldn't had agreed to this. "It was so delicious Im already full at first bite. Thank you very much."

You watch him take a round brush and sit sit on the stool with the canvas im front of him. He looked at you, "Come on." he said, pointing at the other stool.

You rolled your eyes before obeying. "Pose?"

"Arms up."

"Fuck you."

He chuckled again and you're beginning to dislike the sound of it. "Try Mona Lisa's."

You crossed your legs elegantly and straighten your back. You faced left a little, mimicked her hands in your memories, and... should you smile too?

"Is Da Vinci your fave artist?"

...Fuck.

You want to slap your mouth at this very moment. That was out of instinct, you guess. You like asking artists you meet their favorite historical artist— well, before.

No, it's alright. Knowing Da Vinci is a basic knowledge, even non-artists knows that. You shouldn't think too much.

"What if I say it's Picasso?"

You don't know how to react to his answer. Would it be obvious that you're an (ex) artist if you react as if you know?

You remember how confused Itto was when he learned that not many artists like Picasso. He's dumb though... but still!

Should you act confused too? Should you act knowledgeable?

You glanced at his artworks on the wall with your peripheral vision, who could he be inspired of? However, when you looked at him again, he's paying attention to his canvas.

Maybe he doesn't care. Good, good. Stay that way.

Wait... His hand is moving. He started now, yet he hasn't told you to smile yet, should your expression remain fierce?

Okay, now you're nervous again. Does your face look asymmetrical? Can he see the texture of your face at this distance? The corner of your eyes do not have gound, right? You want to lick your lips but you're not sure if you should move. It's not chapped, right? You only applied light make up, it's not too much, right?

"Relax." You heard him say. It felt like you were allowed to breathe again.

Right, right. Relax. This is another one of your reasons why tou dislike being a muse, you feel awkward! What are you so nervous of, anyway? This man, asshole one at that?

He doesn't deserve your kindness anyway. You may make funny faces to tick him off, you couldn't care less.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. You don't know how much time passed but you guess the painting is going smoothly. It doesn't seem like he's struggling nor does he look stressed.

But what matter is... how long is this going to take?!

You, personally, it takes so much time to finish a painting. Hell— you don't think you were able to finish a piece in just one day.

"Can't you just take a picture of me?"

Not being able to move too much is annoying for most people, you're not an exception. You're an impatient person, too. And you're still on a stool, too!

One word, tiring.

"That defeats the purpose."

Your eyes narrowed and your lips curled inwards. "Everything has evolved, we're in modern world."

"Besyashchaya devushka." You didn't understand what he muttered under his breath. "Shut up and stay still, fix your expression."

There's no point in convincing him, you realize.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. Being in this room is surely annoying. The emotions you've been trying to reject ever since you step foot in here is resurfacing much stronger now. Especially now that you have nothing to distract yourself and there's an artist painting in front of you.

You miss it— holding a brush, the feeling of relaxation when the process is going well, the challenge of drawing the reference...

You miss all of it. You want to paint again.

"Fix your expression."

You were taken aback of his words. He noticed the slightest change, he must be really paying attention. Artists are truly amazing, aren't they?

Scaramouche. That's his name, right?

He's rich, he can buy as many materials a he like. Based on this studio; he can sculpt, paint, draw with charcoals, color with different types of mediums.

This could've been your life too if you didn't stop drawing, you think. But no. He's much more capable and skillful.

Come to think of it, you never even hang your works on the walls of your house. You don't even have many finished artworks, and the finished ones aren't that beautiful.

You heard him click his tongue. "I told you to fix your expression, don't I? If you're eager for this to be done as soon as possible, then do as I say."

"When did you began to draw?"

"None of your business." He glared at you, "Look, if you have time to kill, waste is somewhere else. Don't start a chitchat with me, I don't have all day."

Wow. Now he's the one annoyed, when he was the one who wasted time earlier by making you eat something he know you wouldn't like? He's funny.

Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. After a while, it was done. You checked the time and it has only been two hours and a couple of minutes that passed ever since he started.

That was fast.

"Can I see it?" When he nodded, you immediately approached the painting.

Honestly, you were expecting it to be a little messy in style with some defined parts since it was just done in two hours. But the painting is a perfect copy of you, as if he took a picture of you. The only blurred part is the background, and your entire image is refined. He caught everything in perfect precision.

Is this even humanly possible? Two hours is too short for this.

You take back what you thought earlier. This could've been your life too? You wanted to laugh at yourself. Compared to him, your level is way too low— even if it's the you from before.

prev | masterlist | next

taglist. @veekoko @aeongiies @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @magica-ren @feiherp @beriiov @hiraethhv @kleej @eutopiastar @keiiqq @bananasquash @kuniisvt @tamikahoshiko @scaraenthusiast1 @sketcheeee @xxrougefangxx @luciledreamz @icomeheretolaughnottofeel @sereniteav @lily-lmao @h3xi2g0n3 (i cant tag those in bold)

note. i searched the worst rated russian food and interviewed some russians for this okay, don't come at me (for this ill share something in my country that foreigns would find disgusting— a cup of coffee poured in rice!)

#wanderer #genshin impact #kabukimono #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #wanderer fanfic #genshin smau #scara smau #scaramouche smau #genshin impact smau #smau

[ohtobealady]

Love your cobert drabbles and fanfics!! Please write more!! Hope you are doing well 😘🥰😉

So I had a very, very old request for a long-lost prompt list. They requested #18 which was an angsty “All you had to do was stay.” I do not know where that request went, so I am answering this more open-ended one from 2020 instead. Thank you Anon of Bygone Times. I am doing well! And I hope you are, too.

Just felt like doing a little something! Hurt/Comfort really. Post ANE. Please forgive the clunkiness xoxox

—//—//—//—//—//—//—

Angst #18 - All You Had to Do Was Stay

Her mouth felt as if it was stuffed with cotton and her tongue felt dry and thick. It was over, but the taste remained: mineraly and sharp, a bitter tang. It filled up her entire mouth and nose, the taste and smell indistinguishable from each other. She needed water.

Cora opened her eyes and immediately blinked. She worked for a moment to adjust her vision, pressing her eyelids softly and then peering into the afternoon rays of sun coming in at an odd angle to the room. Oh, her head pounded and throbbed. Water; where was the water?

She closed her eyes again and rested her head back against the thin pillow. She’d prayed it wouldn’t be like this. The first few times she’d done the treatment, as Doctor Clarkson had called it, she’d gagged, of course. But she managed the small measured portions of raw liver she’d been prescribed to eat over the course of the day. She could have the injections just as soon as they were shipped from London; this would get easier—less frequent. But after a week, and with the shipment still missing, she found she could no longer stomach it. She managed her portion at luncheon, just barely finding the strength to swallow the gelatinous mush in her mouth that had once been neat cubes upon her plate. But then the vomiting began at tea. And it didn’t stop. The smell of it, the vomit a dark red in the basin, set her mouth to watering and nose burning as a precursor to even more retching.

So Robert had taken her here the next morning—this morning—, in spite of her protesting, to the hospital.

Cora groaned. Whatever strength and newfound energy she’d enjoyed before was completely depleted now and what remained were aches and fatigue. She wouldn’t think of what it may mean—that the incessant vomiting of the last day and night had undone all of her progress—but instead tried her best to look at the bright side. The injections would be in soon, and there’d be less liver. Not no liver, she knew. But less. She could stomach less.

With this, she opened her eyes again. Late afternoon, she could tell. The hospital bed beneath her felt stiff and narrow. The quilt was rough. She attempted to ease herself up slowly, the blood in her head thumping and her stomach sore from its terrible labor.

But then the small creak of a wooden chair to her right, and the warm weight of his hand upon her blanketed shin stilled her.

“Lie back.”

“Robert,” her voice croaked softly, her protest pitiful and weak. “I’m alright.”

“You aren’t. You need rest.”

Despite her scoff, Cora did lie back. She hadn’t even the energy to roll her eyes. “I’m alright. Really.”

“So you said.” His voice was gentler in his contradiction than before, and even though her eyes were closed, Cora could feel the way he shifted in the wooden chair. She could feel the way he leaned closer to her, and she felt his hand move from her leg and to her arm. His fingers encircled it, and she felt him draw a soft line along the thin and fragile bone of the inside of her wrist. She sighed; her head hurt a little less. “We were pleased to see you’ve kept down the last portion.”

She hummed a reply. “Best not to speak too soon.”

“Doctor Clarkson says if you can keep down the next, he’ll send us home to bed.”

She swallowed down what she wanted to respond: She didn’t want another portion. The very thought of it prickled up beads of cold sweat upon her hairline. She did groan, but took in a long breath to steady herself. “I’ve been resting all day.”

“Yes. And he has given you direction to rest as much as possible tomorrow. That is, if you’re well enough to leave.”

“Oh, Robert,” she opened her eyes. “I don’t wish to take up a bed for anyone who may really need it.”

She felt the way his fingers moved upon her wrist. “I suppose you think you don’t?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve been ill, yes, but not ill enough for constant monitoring.” She shook her head, closed her eyes, and swallowed down the dry burn of her throat. Her voice was hoarse from the vomiting. “Besides, I’d like to see you try keeping all that liver down.”

His fingers tightened. The chair creaked. And in the absence of what she thought would be a low chuckle, Cora slowly opened her eyes to find him looking down at her.

“I wish I could do this for you.”

She sighed. “Do what?” she asked, even though she knew.

“All of it.”

She knew. Her chest ached when he looked away from her, his chin trembling. Yes, she knew. For she felt the same when he was lying in this bed a few short years ago and she was the one on the creaking chair praying that somehow they could exchange places. She’d suffer it for him, she knew. And he would suffer this for her. “Oh, darling.“

“I hate seeing you so ill. Last night. I’m so terribly sorry you must endure this.”

It took more energy than she thought she had to slip her wrist from his grasp and for her fingers to find his hand instead. She squeezed, quickly and firmly, and smiled when he at last met her eye.

“No. I don’t want that. No apologies or pity. Hmm?” She smiled wider for his sake, and she tried her best to level her voice, to not sound quite so weak. “All I want is this. For you to stay beside me. Holding my hand.”

He chuckled, softly and sadly. “You’ll have some of my pity. It can’t be helped.” At this, he brought her fingers to his lips and pressed them. They felt warm against her skin. “But I will hold your hand.”

#cobert #downton abbey #cora crawley #robert crawley #cobert drabbles

[gainerstories]

Fat Cats: Chapter 3

The rumble of the subway caused Joe and Justin to jiggle. A healthy paunch sat in Joe’s lap, subtly sloping out underneath well-defined pecs. His pants had been sized up but not his shirt, which was slightly strained at the buttons when he was sitting down. Justin’s thighs now touched at all times, especially when he was seated. Their girth was hard to ignore as the train car sent vibrations through their softest spots. 

Justin was staring at his phone in disbelief. Before leaving the house they had snapped a photo for Instagram since they hadn’t posted since they moved to New York five months ago. The image staring back at him didn’t look like the J&J they had been in California. Neither man was oblivious to their expanding waistlines, but seeing their size captured in a photo was a different experience entirely. 

Justin glanced over at his husband’s belly next to him and then back at the photo. Yep, it really was that big. He then looked down at his own fledgling paunch. A solid roll was visible beneath his button up and digging into the waist of his pants. He hadn’t realized it was so visible until now. There was no denying it: J&J were expanding alongside the rest of the office. Slightly embarrassed and slightly aroused, Justin tapped “Share” and put away his phone. 

He kissed Joe on the cheek and noticed for the first time that a pad of fat had developed just under Joe’s chin. Joe smiled and gripped Justin’s thigh. Joe enjoyed the warmth of Justin’s gelatinous inner thigh and felt a twinge in his loins. He imagined Justin’s freshly fattened ass square atop his face, smothering him with its plumpness. Joe was constantly horny lately and couldn’t wait until the evening when his fantasies could become reality. 

Strolling into the office with his shoulders back and beginner belly forward Joe marched straight to the kitchen. A waffle bar had been set up and helped himself. Like all the other guys in the office, he carried a heaping plate back to this desk along with a coffee that was more cream than anything else. He sat down with a satisfied grunt. He enjoyed expanding his appetite alongside other powerful men. 

In Justin’s office, Manuel had arrived to deliver some petty gossip. In the last couple months Manuel had expanded considerably as well. Justin hadn’t noticed until today, however, because Manuel was wearing that same seafoam green polo from a couple months ago. Needless to say, the shirt no longer fit. It couldn’t contain the solid inch of chub hanging out from the bottom, which Manuel kept covered by a much needed white undershirt. Although the office was filled with expanding cubs, it was unusual to see someone allowing their girth to hang so exposed. 

“I don’t mean to put you on the spot, Manuel, but I think it’s time for a new shirt,” Justin winked. 

“God, I know. All my good shirts were in the hamper this morning. Does it look bad?”

“I mean, I’m sure no one will complain. But maybe it’s time to retire that one after today.”

“You’re totally right, man. I put on fifteen pounds just last month and now nothing fits. Can you believe it?”

Justin marveled at the realization that Manuel was actually growing faster than himself or Joe. To answer Manuel’s question, he couldn’t believe it. Fifteen pounds in a month was no small feat. It was moments like this that left him in disbelief at his new life in New York City.

Later that night, Joe and Justin lay in bed reading. Their silence was broken by Joe’s phone which received a flurry of text messages in under a minute. Joe grabbed his phone off the night stand and Justin couldn’t help but steal a glance. The messages were from Guy. Justin’s paranoia was instantly aroused and to make matters worse Joe got out of bed and took his phone to the bathroom. He was only gone for two minutes but it seemed like an eternity. 

Joe returned with a sultry look on his face, tossing the phone aside and crawling on top of Justin. His strong legs straddled his supine partner as his belly hung wobbling above the elastic waistband of his underwear. Justin noticed Joe’s cock was already swelling in size. They kissed. Joe placed an affectionate hand on Justin’s love handle and gave it a sumptuous squeeze. Justin’s paranoia dissipated as his cock began to stiffen. 

Joe removed his husband’s underwear and then his own. As they made out, Joe wedged his hand between the bed and Justin’s pool of ass fat. With a hand full of ass and his tongue down his lover’s throat, Joe was dripping with precum. Both men were grinding their buttery bodies against one another, the squishy fat spreading beneath the force of their lust. 

“Sit on my face,” Joe purred.

Joe reclined on his back as Justin perched his bubble butt atop Joe’s eager mug. Joe went to town as Justin stroked himself and admired Joe’s husky body writhing beneath him. The man was getting seriously beefy between the gym and his newfound appetite. It wasn’t just his belly that was getting fat either, although it was growing spectacularly thick. His legs were bigger too and even his chest had begun to soften. 

Justin wondered what would come next. He imagined Joe’s belly turning into a full spare tire that wrapped around his body and muffin topped above a fat ass and bulging thighs. He imagined how heavy Joe would feel next to him, the way the bed would sag beneath their combined weight. He imagined his own body growing alongside his partner’s, swelling with fat week after week until they looked like all the other hulking men in the office. Justin felt himself getting close. 

He lifted himself off Joe, whose face was wet and glistening. With a bit of lube and a full blown weight gain fantasy spurring him on, Justin lowered himself onto Joe’s pulsing cock. His ass clapped against Joe’s strong thrusts. Both their bodies jiggled wildly from their passionate fucking. Joe’s belly looked like a plate of jello in an earthquake. Joe seemed to notice Justin watching his gooey core and scooped up his rolls of belly fat in both hands.  

“You like that?” Joe said and shook his gut. “You like that beer belly on your man?”

Justin nodded and bit his lip. 

“Then grab it,” Joe demanded. “Feel how soft it is. It’s all for you.”

Justin placed both his hands on his husband’s quivering belly fat as he bounced on the dick. It did feel soft. It felt plush and heavenly and he wanted more to grab, he wanted it bigger like the partners’ at the firm. 

“You want it bigger, don’t you?” Joe said, verbalizing Justin’s fantasy. “You want a big husky bear under you, don’t you? And I bet you want to be one yourself, you little slut.” He gripped his husband’s cakey ass and gave it a hard slap

This was too much for Justin to take. He could feel the orgasm percolating deep within him and gripped his manhood. Almost immediately he began to erupt. Joe’s eyes dilated in wonder as his husband turned into a fountain of come. He began to orgasm himself, driving his cock deep into his love. Their muscles clenched and their hands painfully squeezed one another’s excess adipose as their erections sputtered the last bits of come. 

Exhausted, they collapsed in bed, Joe spooning Justin. Joe fell fast asleep and just as Justin was nodding off, the vibration of Joe’s phone stirred him awake. It sat on the nightstand directly across from him. The screen lit up with a text message from Guy.

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#gainer stories #weight gain #gay gainer #chubby guy #weight gain fiction #gay bear #gay weight gain #ex jock #chubby chaser

[batrachised]

Adventures in Maud's Recipes

Tomato Jelly Salad

The Recipe

It's been a while since I've picked up LMM's cookbook, after the successes of the New Moon Pie, the cornbread, and the potato soup! I experienced hit after hit - New Moon pie was light and delectable, the cornbread a taste of Eden, and the potato soup apparently academy award worthy. Why at this point, I thought to myself, I should trust Maud's judgement implicitly when it comes to the dinner table. But then I pondered: I'd only tried the recipes that are difficult to get wrong. What if I tried one of the more out there recipes? Cornbread is one thing; raisin pie another. I considered my options. There was dandelion wine, but that required wild dandelions and I didn't feel like curling up with a book and a glass of pesticide; salmon jello molds (yes, really) but that was too much for me (there are some paths even I dare not tread for the sake of lm montgomery); or, I found, there was the aforementioned tomato jelly salad. This salad involves tomato juice, vinegar, onion, sugar (hold on, now we get crazy) which you combine with gelatine to make a jello (keep holding on) and then while the molds are forming, you add a vegetable such as peas or cabbage. For the crunch, I suppose. After all, everyone wants their jello to be crunchy. For obvious reasons, I hesitated. While I do not hate jello, I am suspicious of jello combined with tomatos and peas. In fact, it took me months to build up the emotional resilience to try. Yet, try, I have, and you shall hear of it.

The Results

After a rather disastrous mold experience (I made the mistake of pouring into a floppy dish instead of a metal one, thus meaning any movement of the dish resulted in tomato jello liquid everywhere), we landed on this:

Do you see the peas? Waiting, in the jello like little minnows? What's not to like about this presentation? I love all of my meals to look like bloodsoaked peas. I go for "Veggie Tales mass murder" when it comes to meal presentation, personally.

After bravely moving past the Veggie Tales crime scene, I popped a piece out onto a plate. Here's what it looked like out of the mold (featuring wizard hat roommate's banana chips in the background, my food photography skills are truly impeccable):

That looks vaguely pretty, if it weren't for the peas. One last photo - much like a crime scene, I feel obligated to provide photos from multiple angles. The mold is definitely molding. I suppose you could argue this is vaguely Christmas themed due to the red and green.

The Review

You're supposed to eat this wrapped in a lettuce leaf, but I detest lettuce leaves in that form and refused to do so. I would take this pure, raw, unfiltered by any form. Wizard Hat Roommate insisted on watching as I took the first bite. Tremulously, I took up the fork. Would it taste all right? Would the texture be too much? Would Lucy Maud deliver? I paused, then boldly took a bite.

I want you to imagine the flavor of ketchup. Then I want you to imagine this flavor transmitted via the medium of jello. Then on top of that, as the cherry on this veggie tales sundae, I want you to imagine this ketchup has peas in it. Needless to say: I did not enjoy it. It tasted wrong...disordered...as if the earth itself shuddered as I bit into it. Is this how Frankenstein felt, feeling his creation lurking in every corner of the world? Haunted by the work of his own two hands?

Okay, in all honesty: it wasn't that bad. It wasn't good, but it wasn't bad. The taste was okay - I didn't like it but it wasn't disgusting. The texture was weird - I didn't like it but it wasn't disgusting. The two combined admittedly pushed it, but it only toed the line of being gag worthy.

It didn't help that the color of the jello meant my subconscious kept expecting a sweet cherry flavor, only for my mouth to meet vinegary tomato and peas. Ketchup jello with peas on top is not for me personally, though I won't speak for anyone else. Wizard Hat Roommate insisted on trying one, and actually finished hers. She described it as something she'd never make, but she could eat. We shall see if Clifford Roommate has the same opinion.

So, what would I rate this? Well, if a zero is a mouse in a pudding sauce, and a ten is Susan's monkey paws, I rate it Aunt Martha's ditto served cold and topped with peas.

#batrachised bakes #i don't know if this was baking or culinary crime #it felt like culinary crime #hey anyone happen to want 4 more jello molds?

[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

[conshirtoe]

Damn

#those are the only ones available too #moving gelatine plates

[thephilosopheroftheboudoir]

Moving Gelatine Plates

Moving Theme

from the lp The World of Genius Hans

#moving gelatine plates #canterbury scene #progressive rock #prog rock #jazz rock #Youtube

[bungitonthen]

2/3/23

last song  -  moving gelatine plates  (moving gelatine plates)

the gates of delirium  -  yes  (relayer)

awaken  -  yes  (going for the one)

#moving gelatine plates #yes #steve howe #jon anderson #patrick moraz #chris squire #alan white #rick wakeman

[myearspleasure]

MARDI 28 MARS 2023

MOVING GELATINE PLATES

#music #record collection #vinylrecords #moving gelatine plates