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drpeppertummy · 9 months

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alphabet-themed stuffing/tummyache/tiny bit of hunger writing/drawing prompts

Air. Your character swallows too much air while eating, chewing, drinking, what have you, and finds themselves uncomfortably bloated. Maybe they refuse to burp out of politeness, their belly grumbling in protest as they swallow down any air that tries to escape.

Bubbles. Your character overdoes it with fizzy drinks. Maybe it's an exceptionally fizzy one, maybe it was just a little too much. Maybe there were Mentos involved. Either way, their stomach is filled to the brim with liquid and gas.

Cookies. It's the holiday season, and your character either bakes or receives more cookies than they know what to do with. Somebody ought to eat them before they get stale.

Determination. Maybe your character is stubborn. Maybe they've taken on a challenge. Maybe they've got some sort of goal to reach, or maybe they're trying to take care of some food that won't be good much longer. Whatever the reason, your character is hell-bent on finishing their food, even if their tummy is begging them to stop.

Endless. Your character has far too much food on their plate, and no matter how much they eat, it feels like they're not even making a dent. How long can they go on before they have to quit?

Friends. Your character sits down for dinner with some loved ones, but they're worried their pal isn't eating enough and urge them to have more.

Greasy. How much oily fried food can your character's tummy handle before they start feeling sick? Hopefully they're at least in the comfort of their own home and not out at a fair or something, otherwise they might have a hard time soothing their upset belly.

Help. Somebody needs help cleaning their plate. Maybe your character gives that last bite to somebody else, or maybe they're the one taking it. Maybe, if you're feeling scandalous, somebody helps them finish by feeding them that last bite.

Inches. How far can your character's belly expand? Maybe enough to be visible. Or for their shirt to ride up. Or even to pop a button. What does it take for them to swell up so much?

Juicy. It's easy to overdo it on fruit, especially when it's nice and ripe. It's refreshing, it's fun to eat, and it's gonna go bad soon anyway, right? No problems, at least until your character realizes how full they are.

KFC. Does your character have a favorite fast food place? Maybe they eat too much when they go there because it's just that good. Maybe it's a little ways away and they have to make it worth the drive. Maybe they have a new special your character's been dying to try and it's bigger than expected. How does all that cheap greasy food feel sitting in their stomach?

Liquid. Your character has a beverage that's a little too much. Maybe they're already full from eating, maybe it's just a huge drink, but either way, for one reason or another, they're determined to finish it.

Movies. Your character overestimates how much food they need for a movie snack and winds up with far too much. Maybe they're too focused on the movie to realize how full they're getting, or maybe they just eat it all because they don't want to have to put it away.

Nougat. It's Halloween, and your character is surrounded by candy. Maybe they're giving it out, maybe they've been given some, maybe they just bought a bunch because they could. How much can they eat before it gives them a bellyache?

Overestimate. Maybe your character's eyes are bigger than their stomach and they dish themself out more than they can handle, or maybe somebody else overestimates their capacity and gives them too big a serving of food. Will they try to finish all of it even once they're full?

Pizza. How many slices can your character eat? Can they fit more if it's their favorite topping? Perhaps this is the time to find out.

Quit. Your character has had it. Their belly is far too stuffed, and they can't eat another bite. Hopefully they weren't feeling pressured to clean their plate, because it's just not happening.

Rubs. Maybe your character has a tummyache, maybe they're stuffed silly, or maybe they just want to cuddle, but they're dying for a belly rub. Hopefully they're getting one.

Soup. It's the dead of winter, and your character is cold and shivering. They need a big bowl of hot soup to warm them up from the inside.

Tired. Your character comes home starving and utterly exhausted. Will they have the energy to cook something? Maybe they'll eat a bunch of easy snacks instead of putting together a meal, or maybe they'll go to bed hungry. If they're lucky, maybe somebody will make them something.

Underestimate. Your character leaves the table not nearly full enough, and it's not long before their tummy is growling. Do they ignore it? Feed it? Maybe they're so hungry that they eat too much to compensate.

Valentine. Somebody gives your character lots of sweets for being so sweet. Maybe they have a number of admirers who leave them saddled with more chocolate than they can handle, or maybe it's just one person who thinks they're just that adorable. Either way, they eat too much in one sitting and wind up with a belly full of sugar.

Water. After realizing how dehydrated they are, your character chugs far too much water in one sitting and winds up with an uncomfortably distended, sloshy belly.

eXtra. Your character is enjoying food with friends, and they make or order way too much, just to make sure they have enough for everybody. Maybe the whole group winds up stuffed, or maybe one person is tasked with taking care of the extra food.

Yogurt. For one reason or another, your character is trying to eat healthy. It's okay to stuff yourself silly if it's health food, right? Or maybe they finally snap and break their diet, but go a little overboard in their frenzy to eat something satisfying.

Zoo. Your character has been walking around the zoo all day--or maybe a theme park, or a carnival, or whatever the hell you want--and they're tired and hungry. They'd better stop for an overpriced snack break. Hopefully they don't spend the rest of their outing with a bellyache.

#belly kink #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #stomachache kink #hunger kink #prompts #text

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doomsdaybby · 7 months

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finally posting my contribution to @carolmunson’s cutest writing challenge!

please please please join in if you can!! there’s no pressure, and I had such a good time with this. it made me all giggly and soft, which is something I haven’t experienced to this level whilst writing for a little while 🫶🏻

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer

props: a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook

dialogue prompts can be found in the original guidelines post linked up top!

word count: 3.5k (huh?!!? this ended up a lot longer than I anticipated)

content/warnings: female physical descriptions and she/her pronouns used for reader character throughout, original series eddie (no au), friends to lovers, questioning relationship (unestablished, that weird in between), first date, fluff on fluff on fluff, a little angsty at the start but we lighten up, cringe-worthy flirting that makes my heart flutter, first kiss (🥹!!!!), slightly suggestive (no smut), swearing.

The cool evening breeze sweeps at the hem of your pinafore dress, a fitted denim ensemble that hugs the fat of your hips and thighs, sitting snugly at your waist, paired with a pretty floral long-sleeve.

The trailer park can be spooky at this time of night, especially with a little chill in the air - you have always gotten the creeps standing out here too long. You tuck the two VHS tapes you’d brought along under your arm, a six-pack of Miller Lite beers grasped faithfully in one hand, the other free fingers fidgeting with some loose cotton strands at the end of your sleeve.

Now that you were here for a date, you surely couldn’t just knock twice and waltz in like you own the place, like you usually do. Jesus, your collar is fucking tight. You fumble with your shirt, forefinger raking back and forth over the threads, the thin material somehow not granting you enough precious airflow.

You had never been so nervous around Eddie. Never had you really needed to think about your outfit or your hair or even your goddamn makeup.

But now. Now, it was different. After a slip of the tongue amidst a heated argument over something that you couldn’t even place clearly anymore. One that erupted because Eddie had failed another math test, or another subject similar along those lines. Not caring about his education enough to actually scrape his high school diploma from the bottom of the barrel, one that would soon be a vacant void if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass.

“Why do you even care?!” he had yelled at you, actually fucking yelled. Eddie hated the way you looked at him, eyes laced with disappointment and an anger you didn’t mean; the downturn of your brows and a deep crease at the very top of the bridge of your nose. A place that he had wanted to litter with gentle kisses more times than he could count.

It had shocked him too, the sudden raise of his voice, an air of malice coating the words. Though it wasn’t aimed at you, not really. Eddie just couldn’t bear the idea of you, somebody he cares so much about, being yet another person that viewed him as such a failure.

It had just tumbled out, an admittance of pathetic besotted pining that had built to mountainous heights over the years. A mentos in a cola bottle, the whistle of a kettle on the stove at boiling point, you just couldn’t help it.

“Because I like you!” you had called back twice as loud, though the ferocity was near triple of Eddie’s.

“Like, really fucking like you, Eds” you admitted quieter that time, only able to steal quick glances at his astounded expression - a jarred sort of picture painted on his face, chocolate eyes wide and jaw loose at the hinges.

“You… you do?”

So here you stood one week later, on a chilly mid-March Saturday night, on the front step of Eddie Munson’s trailer - a person who you held near and dear as a friend since middle school and, at arm's length, a kindling flame, always believing that your infatuation was completely one-sided.

Therefore once your romantic desires turned out to be reciprocated, your heart was in your throat and your head spun dizzy in a dream-like state.

Another flatten of the front of your dress, a press of your middle finger to the tacky gloss of your lips, and you were knocking on the front door. Folding your arms over yourself was a grand task to keep yourself busy for a moment - fingers strangled by the plastic casing surrounding the alcohol and tapes almost slipping from under their secure hiding spot.

You start to pick clumsily at the skin just above the nook of your elbow whilst you wait for said date to answer the door. Of course he didn’t keep you waiting long, though it was foreign for him to have to answer the door to you. Eddie appears in five seconds flat, hair perfectly mussed and the waft of his aftershave - the surprisingly good kind, pine and amber - erupts millions of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

You feel like a dumbass kid, one disgustingly love-struck and naive. A feeling you aren’t overly familiar with, not to this degree. Of course you had your school girl crushes, fawning over your too large poster of Rick Springfield you had pinned up on proud display at the back of your bedroom door.

But with Eddie? It was totally unmarked territory, when you step meekly into his living room, uncharacteristically bashful, it sets alight that same adrenaline rush as if you were diving headfirst into shark infested waters. This was real life, your real life. He wasn’t a chart-topping celebrity you had ripped pages out of magazines for, Eddie was someone you had known only on platonic terms for nearly ten years.

“You look nice. Like, uh, really nice” Eddie compliments as he shuts the door.

“Y’made an effort for little ol’ me?” his grin stretches wide, a real pretty wide, a sort of grin that has never-ending smile lines rippling across his pink cheeks. Eddie matches your bashfulness, a shared tensisity that envelopes the air between you like thick black smoke accompanying the climbing licks of a fire.

You snort, such flattering remarks like this from him in this context was weird, but it felt so fucking good.

“You clean up pretty well yourself” your smile matches his, and it was true. Eddie did make an effort when it mattered; decked out in neat black jeans that unusually had no holes in the knees, the same makeshift handcuff belt, a faded white Van Halen t-shirt, completed with a dark olive green flannel that was cuffed to the elbows as the cherry on top.

The man was looking delicious, the same ripened fruit that tempted Eve in the garden of Eden, but you try not to stare too hard.

“I brought a couple movies,” you say, setting the beers atop the kitchen counter. “We’ve got ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ or one that Harrington said was pretty good, ‘The Breakfast Club’”.

You hold them both up to Eddie, who is smirking, a boyish expression that makes your stomach do backflips.

“Those are two wildly different options,” he snickers for a moment, a small pause before continuing with a mischievous bite, “And Harrington, huh?”.

Your brow raises warily, sensing a playful game of verbal tennis stirring up between you, the atmosphere electric. “I mean yeah, he does work there, Eds”.

“Aaahhh,” Eddie strings with an epitome of understanding, one you’re not certain that you’re following. “Now I know why you were almost a half hour late. Y’been chatting it up with other guys.”

“Don’t be like that,” you scold him lightly, “That’s not even true! Plus, do you really think I'd be here on a date with you if I had the hots for pretty boy?”.

Eddie takes pride of place at the end of the couch closest to you, hair enveloping his face as he crosses the living room.

“Oh? So he's a pretty boy now too?”.

You’re propped up against the kitchen counter, hip to the wooden cabinet, elbow leaning on the counter top. “You are the easiest person to get a rise out of, you know,” there was that smile again, a fond roll of your eyes in hand with the blooming cherry red at the apples of your cheeks.

Plus you’re prettier anyways, by a long shot.

“Hm. Will need to have a talk with Stevie-boy about trying to steal my girl”. Eddie notices the beaming display of pearly whites that earns him, one as radiant and scorching as the July afternoon sun.

‘My girl’.

It lights you ablaze from the inside out, the pound of your heart a booming bass drum in your ears, one vicious and overwhelming, and you suddenly become aware of every single vein and delicate capillary rushing with red hot blood.

“So… movie?” you’re holding up the chunky VHS tapes in either hand, insinuating pointedly to the macabre horror you were both certainly more inclined to, a jiggle of the dull clunk of plastic on plastic.

“Your choice, babe.” Eddie stretches an arm across the back of the couch, one leg swung up onto the well-worn cushion folded into a triangular shape. The space he had left for you was near disastrously tempting, able to fit perfectly cozy beside him, head crooked into the juncture of his neck.

Babe wasn’t new, but tonight it strung velvety smooth across his vocal cords with a much rosier lilt. Of course Eddie notices the bite at the inside of your cheek, the tightening at the corner of your mouth whilst you turn away from him. God, you don’t think that you’ll ever get used to this sort of giddiness.

“You got popcorn?” a wiggle of your brows in his direction and he’s giggling, a noise you hadn’t quite heard, breezy and flippant, overly juvenile but it was endearing.

“Actually,” Eddie jumps up from his spot on the couch, the shabby fabric already indented with a shadowed figure, remaining perfectly vacant until the owner returned.

“I thought that we could make chocolate chip cookies. You like cookies, right?” He pulls the multitude of ingredients from the cupboards and fridge, a stockpile threatening to topple from his arms. You watch him fondly, head propped up on the heels of your palms.

“I wrote the recipe down in this notebook. Debbie a couple doors down wouldn’t let me borrow her cookbook, said I couldn’t be trusted. Not sure if they’ll turn out any good but, yeah,” Eddie peers at you doe-eyes as he scratches the back of his head, fluffy locks exaggerated. He had washed his hair, it was always a dramatic transformation when he did. You were special.

“You made all this effort for little ol’ me?” you perk up, eyes swimming crystalline, brimming with the kind of tenderness only you could omit. Eddie chuckles, flipping open the notebook to decipher his rushed scrawling decorating the lines in smudged black ink.

So you did bake cookies together, a welcome ease to the tautness that strung tight in the air. You could get used to this, pottering around the kitchen, knowing Eddie on this entirely new plane of existence. You bump hips and snicker like kindergarteners, swiping off stray puffs of flour that somehow managed to settle under his eyes, allowing your thumbs to linger there for some selfish moments too long.

“I ran out of like, the nice cups, is this okay?” Eddie hands you the now chiller beer on ice once your baked goods sat safe and sound on the oven rack, a rather ghastly looking E.T. printed onto the cool glass. The picture was chipped and scraped in parts, appearing crummy considering the movie was still fairly new, though you didn’t mind.

You survey the glass up at your nose, rotating your wrist clockwise and opposite, lips form a downturn when you realise that the poor friendly alien had been decapitated without the tender loving care it obviously needed.

“It’s perfect”, you exhale a brief laugh lightheartedly, patting the cushion beside you, and Eddie spared not a moment more before he dived onto the couch with a similarly shabby looking glass in hand, though this one was embellished with a flaking Lord of the Rings design.

Now you were lounging together, taking up that place beside Eddie you had peered at so ardently earlier in the night, his hair brushing your cheek and the trailer enveloped in a cushy blanket of navy, apart from the blaring flickering white of the television screen.

Your head rests against his collarbone, his own tilted downwards so that his jawline was cushioned by your crown. This kind of more intimate contact came with a natural ease that neither of you had expected. The longer the clock ticked by, spending time together like this went from the sensation of that first crisp splash into the deep end of the pool that froze you to the bone, slowly, to the comfortable warming lull of floating down the lazy river.

You could float down the lazy river hand in hand with Eddie for the rest of eternity.

You weren’t sure how long you both enjoyed each other's company, the closeness, the minor skin to skin contact - long enough to empty your first cups of beer. But the awful smell of something burning soon seeped in from the direction of your precious cookies in the oven.

Eddie’s head shoots up when yours does, two noses sniffing up at the air. Eddie darts for the kitchen, and low and behold, behind the dirtied glass of the door and swaddled in smoke, were some very cremated looking cookies.

“You didn’t set a timer?” you questioned him, following close to his heels as he allows the smoke to billow free. The kitchen area quickly enfolds with the smog, stinging your eyes and catching at the backs of your throats. It was only a matter of time before the noise of the movie was drowned out by the alarming smoke detector.

“You said you would!” Eddie asserts, dumping the blackened cookies into the trash bearing an extremely puppy-like look on his face as you’re fanning the detector with a dish towel.

He sets the now empty tray back on the counter, winces at the high pitched ringing whilst pressing his finger to close off one ear. With another few bats of the rag, the alarm finally shuts off, and Eddie stands hand on hip just staring at you.

You shrug your shoulders, a pitying purse of your lips when the boy's face falls, brows pinching ever so faintly. You could kiss away every sad face he ever pulled.

“You have any vanilla frosting?” you ask lightly, shuffling through the cabinets only to find a couple tins of canned soup and a box of half eaten cheeze-its. Eddie observes the ingredients you had packed neatly away next to the sink, unfortunately not enough remained to make another batch.

“I don’t know where you think you are but I can assure you that I don’t,” his voice is sterner than he intends, crossing his arms, pissed off at himself that he had messed up what he wanted to be a perfect first date.

“Sad,” you respond dryly through a suck of the teeth, tilting your head back and towards him, almost swinging from the handles of the cabinets. “I could eat that shit with a spoon”.

Eddie grimaces, “and you… like that?”.

You mirror his expression, glossy lips stretching into an open-mouthed half smirk, arms folded and shoulders slumped forwards, turning full bodied to step gradually into his personal space. You have to crane your neck up some to meet his eyes, ones as dark as a piping hot shot of espresso.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you assure him when his spread fingers skate lightly along his clothed ribs, a self-soothing action you were well accustomed to, one that shatters your heart a little. “The grocery store might still be open, we can go get some ice cream”.

You run your own fingers along the tops of his arms, brushing beneath the cuff of his sleeves. Your touch was soft, delicate, fingertips glacial compared to the flush of his skin. Eddie Munson was on fire.

“Hey…” You press the palm of your hand to his cheek, stippled a carnation coloured pink due to the light buzz of alcohol, plus the fact that you were touching him so tenderly had his pulse point racing. It was an innate response, to reach up and press the plush of your lips to his cheek, barely an inch or two from the corner of his mouth.

“I’m having a really good time with you, okay?”.

“Okay…” Eddie murmurs back, a low melodious noise as one large fervent hand closes over the one you held to his face. You think that he is about to return the favour, maybe draw you into another one of many tight hugs you had shared before.

Except by the way Eddie tugs at your sleeve behind your elbow, his arms unraveling to welcome you chest to chest, you swallow over a dry throat in the moments it takes you to catch up.

Eddie’s lips are soft, you already suspected that by the pouts you were a victim to over the years, fleeting thoughts of what they would feel like pressed to yours.

His body invades yours, the kitchen surrounding you bleeding into a shadowy blur, bleeding hazes of the movie scenes bursting into crimson and neutral coloured supernovas. Your hands are buried in his shaggy brown locks before you could even register your movements, pinching at his roots at the nape of his neck.

It was desperate. It was downright addicting, the way he tasted. His lips tacky with your glassy strawberry flavoured gloss, smearing to the corners with every open mouthed part. It was a shot of heroine in your veins and the highest of highs Eddie could never dream of reaching, a hit like no other.

The ice wasn’t just broken, the entire frozen lake was smashed to smithereens beneath your feet. Though you cut it short before anything can get too hot and heavy despite the sting it spikes right at the center of your heart.

“For the record…” he interjects, a tiny whisp of a kiss pressed to the end of your nose, “I think you’re sweet enough. You don’t need any frosting” Eddie smirks when you part, tone less cloudy and more challenging, that lost puppy-dog expression replaced by a playful and troublemaking smugness.

Your lips seal together in a tight line, despite his atrocious attempt at some romantic banter, neither of you could keep it in for very long, and you both burst out in reams of laughter.

You push him away at the chest, though your hands certainly linger there, basking in the physical contact that you now craved more than ever. “Never say that to me again! Come on, loser. We have a movie to finish”.

Your attention no longer settles on the teens in peril before you, the guts and gore no longer piquing any iota of interest. Eddie’s hands were all over you, though not in a sinful sense. It was suggestive, sure.

The tap tap tap of his fingers at the inside of your thigh, an absentminded tick to distract Eddie’s racing mind. His nails skimming the tender ticklish flesh at the curve of your neck, catching the thrumming artery and the muted hitch of your breath, up behind the back of your ear and down to brush at your collarbone beneath your shirt.

You’re turned into him now, a casual position where you could both hide behind the throw pillow and giggle through a particular jumpscare.

“Stop making me nervous” you mutter, his grin lengthening twice as wide when he notices that you’re smiling too.

“I'm making you nervous?” he nuzzles his nose under your cheekbone, pressing further into you to trap you at the corner of the couch, one hand grasps at your shoulder whilst the other strokes small feathery circles just above your knee.

“Eddie!” you exclaim, sitting up and away a fraction from the warmth of his side, grabbing the throw pillow within your reach to swat at his chest.

“Baby”.

Your eyes light up, a startle shaking in your chest, releasing a whisper of a gasp you didn’t mean to. Eddie tilts his head to the side, closing the gap between you a little more, eyes heavy lidded and they twinkle with the reflection of the screen across the room.

His voice is low, muttering to you as if he’s sharing a secret. “I can call you that? baby?”.

“If- if you don’t stop that right now, Munson, we’re gonna have a problem”. Christ, he’s making you fucking tremble.

“Oof, and we’re back to last name basis,” Eddie feigns offense, palm to his sternum in a false wound of his ego. Though he’s impossibly close now, lips meer inches from meeting for a second time, and you can almost fucking taste him again.

“My girl seems to work pretty well on you,” his breath skims the bridge of your nose, cheap beer and spearmint.

“If you’re trying to make this go somewhere that you shouldn’t be…”

Eddie inhales a dramatic breath, clutching at his shirt. “How dare you suggest such a thing! I would never dream of taking advantage of such a sweet thing as yourself. I am a gentleman!” he proclaims, all gun but no smoking barrel.

“You’re talking out of your ass, Eds” you’re in stitches, a saccharine candy-coated chortle that knocks the wind from the space between your ribs, comedic horror plastered all over his face.

Then you’re pulling him in by the collar before he can utter another word.

now it’s time for me to read the whole freaking masterlist!!! 🫶🏻 let me know if you enjoyed!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #writing challenge #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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omgcatboi · 8 months

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POV: Your fat boyfriend just discovered the diet coke mentos challenge.

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abellystuffingblog · 1 year

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So I think this may actually be the largest or most stuffed I’ve ever been before 🥴🐷

Started off with a moderate sized McDonald’s stuffing comprised of a double quarter pounder, 2 large fries, 2 large cokes and 3 apple pies, eaten in public 😳🐷 aftermath of that shown.

Then I stopped by the shops to pick up some Diet Coke, mentos and 2L of ice cream, to firstly do a coke and mentos bloat and then to chug the whole container of ice cream 🔥🐷

I had 1.25L of Diet Coke and a roll of the mentos, which really stretched out my belly 🥵 Then came the ice cream, which I managed the entire 2L 🐷 I managed to just get it all down and it really pushed my limits which I love!

Honestly look at me, I can hardly breathe, let alone move 🥵🐷 I swear my stomach just keeps stretching to accomodate for all the thousands upon thousands of extra calories I’m forcing into it!

But I just can’t stop, I want, no, I NEED MORE!!! Send me DM’s and asks with challenges and recommendations about what I should stuff myself with tomorrow!! 🤤🐷

#me #male feedee #stuffed belly #make me fatter #belly #weight gain #getting fatter

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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 days

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.Dead asleeP.

Title: Chapter 1: COMA Prompt: You were peacefully sleeping when you suddenly wake up to the sound of a heart monitor steadily beeping somewhere nearby, and realize you are in the med-bay with no memory of what happened prior to this. // After watching movies with your siblings all night and passing out in the tv room, you wake up to find that you're alone. What happened? Fandom: ROTTMNT Word Count: 1,927 Author: PhoebePheebsPhibs Rating: Gen Characters: Leonardo, minor Michelangelo, Donatello, & Raphael (disembodied voices) Warning: Derealization, nightmare-ish stuff (Leo is stuck in a dream) Summary: Leo enjoys a calm sleepover with his family... but when he wakes up in the middle of the night, everyone is gone, and the world starts to turn upside down... Notes: No Beta, We Die Like Gram-Gram! More chapters to follow (5 more, to be exact)

@shr00mi3writefight @tmnt-write-fight @that-0n3-shr00mi3

Posted on AO3 <-

Leo missed having nights like these. The five of them, watching movies late into the evening and early into the mornings. Bowls of popcorn emptied within the first fifteen minutes, stacks of pizza for them to scarf down, liters upon liters of soda, boxes of candy for everyone to enjoy, and plenty of pillows and blankets so that not a single square foot of the concrete and metal-grated floor was exposed. The classic Hamato-O'Neil sleepover extravaganza.

Leo battled April with their typical pun battles, where one would make a joke using wordplay, and the other would have to follow suit with a similar or related word. Leo started off saying that all her jokes would be 'cheesy'. April assured him they were all 'gouda'. Leo retorted that her jokes 'were like swiss cheese -- too many holes'. And so on and so forth, gaining complaints and boos from the rest of the group as they went on. Raph brought out all his cuddlies and stuffies, letting each sibling take one for comfort... should they decide to watch any scary movies. Their energy came in waves, the first dissipating after the first J.J. film. They paused, had some food and snacks, watch some 'Try Not To Laugh' challenges, failed the challenges, and then the second wave hit. Donnie set up a special game he'd heard about and fixated over for them all to play. At some point, Mikey started laughing too loudly and accidentally screamed in April's ear. Leo was making fun of the characters with his colour commentary and annoyed Donnie into pushing him off the couch. Raph decided it would be cool to see if a mint in Vitamin Water and shaking it would have the same effect as a Mentos in Diet Coke. News flash, it did.

So the night was going really great!

Leo cackled as he pulled Donnie off the couch with him. Raph panicked and dropped the bottle once it started foaming and exploding, and April grabbed the drink and used it as a weapon against them. Donnie started a massive pillow fight and created a battlefield. Once their second wave of energy had depleted, and the pizza boxes were all but empty, they settled down to continue the movie night. It was really nice, having everyone over together like this. Leo tried to recall the last time they'd gotten together like this and had a massive celebration...

Mikey laughed as he pointed to the screen, cackling madly. Raphael had fallen asleep watching Jupiter Jim's Pluto Vacation 4 and broken the coffee table with his face again. Donnie and April groaned loudly, but Leo and Mikey high-fived with glee.

Just another fun family night. One Leo was so extremely grateful for. Though, he didn't have any real need to feel that way. The Shredder was locked away, Big Mama was not causing any problems (that they knew of), and his family had never felt closer since Splinter had shared the a good portion of his past with them. Everything was... perfect. Sure, things had been kind of rocky before. Concerning Leo's portals needing more experience, the secrets that Splinter kept from them about their origins, Draxum being a villain, and the Shredder's resurrection. Among other things. They needed a night like this. To unwind, relax, take it easy and have a laugh. They were all just teenagers, after all.

Leo leaned back in his sleeping back, propped up with pillows to form a cocoon throne. He chuckled softly at Raph's light snoring, Mikey drawing pictures on his face, April putting curlers into Mayhem's hair and through Donnie's mask tails...

His eyes grew heavy.

Leo fell asleep.

"Leo, wake up, Leo!"

"Can he hear us? I think he can --"

"How do we know this will work?"

"It just will. It has to."

"Don't give up on us, Leo... C'mon, get up... get up...!"

"Leo?"

Leo's eyes fluttered open. He yawned, and turned over in his sleeping bag.

"Wake me'up... wh'n iz... morn'n....."

No one responded. The lair was silent. Leo couldn't even hear the movie playing.

He sat up slowly, glancing around to see if the others had all fallen asleep as well. No one was here. The projector was still running softly, but there was no sound, no image. Just TV snow -- static buzzing across the screen as the machine whirred and whined with exhaustion. Huh. Weird, he'd never known the projector to do that... Leo tilted his head in confusion. The screen blinked at him oddly. The static took soft shapes Leo could almost swear he saw images in the interference. It must be his imagination.

⠀⢀⡀⡄⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠲⢶⢶⢲⠄⠀⢴⠦ ⢸⡈⣷⢱ ⠏⣾⢾⢸. ⠿⡀⠀⠀⢸⢸. ⡿⢹⠀⢸⡈⣷⢱⠲⢶⢶⢲ ⠀⠁⠀⠈⠉⠈⠀⠈ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⡇⢸⢻⠀⡞⢠⠖⢦⠀⣇⡤⠂⣠⠶⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⡆⢰⠴⠢⡄ ⠀⢳⡏⠀⣷⠃⢶⣉⣹⡀⡏⠳⣀⢯⣉⡩⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣀⣯⢻⣄⣠⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠂⠀⠀ ⢸⡈⣷⢱ ⠏⣾⢾⢸. ⠿⡀⠀⠀⢸⢸. ⡿⢹⠀⢸⡈⣷⢱⠲⢶⢶⢲ ⠀⠁⠀⠈⠉⠈⠀⠈ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠲⢶⢶⢲⠄⠀⢴⠦

But the instant Leo called his attention to it, the projector popped, fizzled, and disconnected.

Huh. Must be the sleep deprivation...

Leo's attention came back to the emptiness of the room. Where had everyone gone? It was too dark and too quiet to be morning yet. Maybe... they'd all gone to get more snacks? It was a silly idea, but the only probable one he could think of. Leo rose to his feet, stretched, and clambered over the sea of pillows and cushions surrounding the area. He wondered what time it was. He tried to find his phone... but, uh... hm. That was unlike him, to leave his phone unattended. Oh well, he didn't actually need it. Besides, there were other clocks in the lair. Leo roamed into the halls, which seemed a lot longer and more dominated by shadow than usual. These shadows were strange, rounding about the walls and ceiling and floor as if they were cloth rolling down a hole. In fact, the more Leo focused on the world around him, the more it seemed distorted and out of place. The photos on the walls were tilted and slanted, the images were too blurry to be discernible. There were doors that he did not recognize, practically littering the hallway. And the hallway itself went on for miles and miles and miles. Leo eventually saw a door that felt familiar. Felt familiar. It did not look familiar. But being near the door felt like being at the end of a task you forgot you were doing. Recognition of completion. He opened the door.

It was the kitchen. And it was empty. No one was here... huh. Weird. Where had they all gone? Leo glanced at the wall clock. The hand were at... uh... He couldn't read the numbers. There weren't any numbers. And for whatever reason, he couldn't recall in what order numbers ran, or where they started on a clock. At the top? The middle? The bottom? Where was the 1 supposed to be? And which hand represented the hour?

Uh... h-he didn't really want to see the time, anyway. It would just remind him of how many hours he had left to try and sleep.

"You've been sleeping enough, I think..."

Who said that?

Leo glanced around room anxiously. The once warm light was starting to dim, darken, desaturate. It was getting pretty cold in here. Leo ran out of the room, and looked down the halls. The way back to the living room was pitch black, and getting darker and scarier by the minute.

"This way, Leo! Follow us!"

Leo turned to look the other way.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel! A deep, warm, golden amber light. He'd go that way. Leo started running. It was so hard to run, he felt like he was running through water, or molasses. Slowed down to a crawl, he forced his arms and legs to move as fast as they could to escape the oncoming, ever consuming darkness.

"Come on, Leo, you can do it!"

"You've got this, dude! Keep going!"

"Don't give up!"

Leo struggled hard, gritting his teeth and growling with strained effort.

"Rrrrrgh! Who ARE you weird disembodied voices, anyway?! What have you done with my family?!"

The voices didn't answer. Or maybe they did, he just wasn't hearing them anymore. Everything felt like slow motion.

Leo finally made it to the edge of the light. As soon as his fingers touched the sparkling beams, he felt the effects of the darkness bleed off of him, ebbing away like the tide as he crawled out of its reach. The cold chill that had been clawing at his heart and lungs was now replaced by a glorious sensation of healthy warmth. The air sparkled, chasing the dark back into the abyss. The light brightened, beckoning him. Something about this light felt like... like... Like Mikey, somehow. It mirrored his bright personality. Leo could almost swear that touching the light was like holding his hand. He could feel the weight in his palm.

"...Mikey?" he asked aloud, eyes wide with shock at how familiar and real it all felt. The realest thing here...

"He felt me!"

"Huh?" Leo asked, still unsure where the voice had come from...

But before he could discern anything, his feet started moving again, almost as if he was no longer in charge. He strode through the tunnels, following the light.

"Don't worry, Nardo, we'll help you get back."

"We'll be right here beside you, no matter what."

"Anatawa hitorijinai."

"I don't speak... whatever that is," Leo mumbled sleepily. He wondered why he felt so drowsy all over again.

But Leo felt like the voices weren't malevolent. They weren't evil, or cruel. Maybe they had done something to his family, maybe not. It felt more like they wanted to help return him to them. Leo wasn't an overly trusting guy, but he was willing to stake his life for his family's sake.

He was willing to follow the light.

#tmnt write fight #write fight #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #archive of our own #rottmnt leo #ao3 #dreams #stuck in a dream #fanfiction #fanfic

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gutsluttsbelly · 1 month

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When doing mentos and coke challenge, do you chew mentos or swallow them whole?

i swallow them whole. it doesn’t work if you chew them!

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shouta7fag · 1 month

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"nsb teen founder isn't real, he can't be in your head all day hurt u" nsb teen funder:

#ts4 #simblr #sims 4 #the sims 4 #show us your sims #my sims #ts4 cas #sims wip #nsb challenge #nsb #not so berry #not so berry challenge #nsb mint #sim: mento

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luckystorein22 · 1 year

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#coca cola #plus #le plus grand bonbon du monde #bonbon xxl coca #bonbon xl coca #bonbon coca #le plus gros bonbon #coca #cola #gummy cola bottle #je teste le coca + mentos challenge !#coca lait #mélanger coca #expérience coca #expérience coca cola #experience coca

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sepulchretide · 2 months

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Wrong time to take the mentos challenge

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the-mighty-mittens · 2 months

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Incorrect end roll quotes yippee

Gardenia: I dare you-

Yumi: Russell is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Gardenia: Why not?

Russell: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

Russell: Thanks for pulling the fire alarm, you saved me from giving an oral report about The Scarlet Web.

Gardenia: You were too lazy to read the book?!

Russell: I was too lazy to watch the movie.

Cody: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Dogma and not do the thing,

Cody: Well there’s a clear right answer here.

Cody: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

Tabasa: You're ignoring all your problems.

Russell: I know.

Tabasa: You also know it's an unhealthy coping mechanism?

Russell: I'm ignoring that fact as well.

Tabasa:

Cody: Who the fuck-

Dogma: Language!

Cody: Whom the fuck-

Dogma: No.

Informant: *slams books down in front of Russell*

Informant: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night.

Russell: You could of said literally anything else.

Informant: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble.

Russell: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

Russell, playing a video game: How do I play?

*Russell has drawn first blood!*

*Russell is on a killing spree!*

*Russell is on a rampage!*

*Russell is unstoppable!*

*Russell is dominating!*

*Russell is godlike!*

Russell: Don’t worry guys, I figured it out.

Chris, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing?

Russell: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language.

Chris:

Chris: Water you doing?

Chris: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products!

Chris: *sprays hairspray in their mouth*

Chris: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

Chris: So I got this amazing plan!

Russell: We fail almost every time you say that.

Chris: Well this is the same! But with a hamster involved.

Chris: What do you have?

Russell: A KNIFE!

Chris: NO!

Chris: Life is like Russell. It's short.

Chris: I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me first.

Russell: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Russell: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’. (Note: Russell... No)

Russell: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve! (Note: I already did this joke but here it is again)

Gardenia: You look mentally ill.

Russell: I am. Let’s go.

Russell: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions.

Dogma: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Gardenia: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Kantera: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Russell: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Cody: Did you have to stab them?

Russell: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me.

Cody: What did they say?

Russell: "What are you going to do, stab me?"

Cody: That’s fair.

Kantera: What's wrong with you?

Russell: Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

Gardenia: iuegrukfhoeuhfeoruhf

Dogma: What is that?

Gardenia: it’s a keyboard smash

Dogma: How do I do it?

Gardenia: just press anything

Dogma: 7

Gardenia: Seriously, Russell, how many people would you have killed if we’d asked you to?

Russell: That’s not important

Gardenia: I DISAGREE.

Cody: Russell, what do you have?

Russell: A KNIFE!

Cody: Okay, have fu-

Yumi: NO!

Cody: Fruits that do not live up to their names; passionfruit, grapefruit, honeydew and dragonfruit.

Cody: Fruits that do live up to their names?

Cody: Orange.

#end roll #Sorry if these are kinda bad it was really late when I made this lol

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