Im Not Exactly At A Good Time To Repost My Movie Sonic Vore Story From Wattpad, But I Will Once I Get

I’m not exactly at a good time to repost my Movie Sonic vore story from Wattpad, but I will once I get time today.

Also, just for my constructive criticism and improvement, why do you all love the Peanut Butter Toast incident so much?

Wild Kratts Vore - The One with Tazzy Chris

This story was inspired by @voreaz , huge HUGE thanks to their blog for inspiring me to get out of my debating head and actually write Wild Kratts vore, something I’ve been considering since before I knew what vore even was. While I am trying to center this around the episode, I apologize if I deviate too far in the parts I’m not trying to deviate from. Also, continuity doesn’t exist until Athena P says it does, so until she drops a lore video, I’m ignoring it. (Also don’t tag her OR the fandom if you reblog this please, I’m already dying publishing this)

Silence in the night isn’t a thing.

Maybe you’re in the city and there’s cars driving by, or like a small town with the noises of bars, but out in the wilderness, there’s the best kind of night noise: living creatures. Crickets and cicadas chirping, wolves howling, owls hoo-ing, and other noises. The noises of the wilderness are an active sign of flourishing life, even in the times most are asleep, but for the Kratt Brothers, this was the best time to observe the Tasmanian Devil.

Out in Tasmania, the brothers were on a quest, a great and noble quest, to prove that these creatures weren’t actually as scary as people think they are. It was also a chance to help scientists track them, as they are sadly endangered and as such needed to be protected.

Chris was sure to pack only essential tools for tagging. After all, each material was extra weight and as such, only what was necessary should be brought, so while Martin revealing that he only brought a crappy Halloween mask, was surprising, he was calm. Not mad, just kind of surprised.

Aviva took this moment to call them via hologram, eliminating the chance Martin had to explain his thought process or share anything else he brought.

“Simply put the tag on their ear. It doesn’t hurt them and allows us to track them!” She told the boys before going back to work on something, whatever it was is unimportant. Now, one can’t simply grab an animal and put it on the animal; that would cause them distress and maybe pain. The fly cam was the mouseketool for the job, providing a safe and easy way to tag the devils. Walking towards the noises of these creatures, Martin asked Chris,

“Not to be a scaredy cat, but are you sure we wanna do this?”, either afraid of the dark or the very creatures that he preached to be misunderstood.

“We have to! T. Devils are disappearing so quickly, and the more we know about them, the more we’ll be able to help protect them from becoming extinct” Chris replied calmly, his patience grounding Martin’s slightly hysteric fears.

What would help this were if one of these T. Devils didn’t make a scary shadow via Chris’ headlamp, but guess what? Martin, while initially afraid, saw the creature making the shadow and the coating of fear was spread away. Martin did though, feel a tickling sensation on his leg and asked Chris accusatorily if this was a good time for a tickle fight.

“I’m not tickling you right now”

As it turns out, one of the unaptly-named devils was licking his leg, which frightened Martin into Chris’ arms. But these devils didn’t just create fear, they also ate food. Being scavengers, they found a carcass and began eating, giving Chris ample time to put on a tag via the fly cam. [Watching the episode right now for the sake of exposition and they can chew through BONE?!] Tagging went well.

Now here’s where things get interesting. While Chris was using the fly cam, a devil came up to him and began observing this large foreign skin monkey that showed up out of nowhere. While Chris was joking about the devil giving him a taste test, what this animal found more appetizing was the creature suit, and took a chomp at it. Sparks and whirring caught Chris’s attention, who told the animal to be careful as to not cause a creature suit malfunction. But as things go, he jinxed himself and suddenly starting shaking as a green glow engulfed him and he became partially Tasmanian Devil, his brain rewired in a more wild sense. Chris was now half man, half creature. Instantly smelling something good, Tazzy Chris (as he was affectionately referred to by witnesses) ran on all fours for the sake of discovering where this meat was. Martin saw this situation and grabbed Chris by the leg just as his malfunction temporarily ceased, with Chris none the wiser of this incident. Chris walked along, malfunctioned again, and returned to normal just as Martin tried to inform Aviva of the situation, who didn’t believe him but started on their way anyway. Chris kept malfunctioning and unmalfuntioning with no knowledge or control.

So this happens, and while they’re still dealing with this crap take care of the whole Zach thing, because truly, that’s not what’s important here. What is important was what happened next [here’s where we deviate from the episode slightly]

This suit, as it turns out, was not something that could be fixed lickety-split. Rather, it would require being hooked up to a computer and the software deactivated so that the suit could be removed for repair. But it was 4 in the morning and since Chris had some level of control, the Tortuga gang decided to leave the issue until after they got some good night’s sleep. After all, it would require focus she just didn’t have, and Chris was too tired to be helpful. So, the issue was put off. With the lights off and sleeping bags out, everyone got in and got rested for a few hours of sleep for tomorrow’s next adventure.

Sadly, this wasn’t going to go too well, and that’s for one simple reason: Martin had been foolish. If you recall, I mentioned that Aviva had interrupted him before he could share everything else he brought. Now, this thing he brought was the miniaturizer, a glorified shrink ray. It was compact enough to fit in the cargo shorts Martin wore, and was so exhausted from taking care of Chris and Zach that he had forgotten to put it up. So there he was, tightly wound in his sleeping bag with a small device in his back pocket against the ground slightly. All it would take for catastrophe was Martin rolling over slightly and pushing the button into the ground. What do you think happened?

The zapping sound, muffled by the bag, was unheard as Martin was shrunk to a tiny size. Immediately waking up in fear and realizing what had just happened, he thrashed and panicked, trying to find his way out of this sleeping bag so he could get someone to help him with returning to normal size.

Meanwhile, Chris was struggling to sleep, as his Tasmanian form had taken over for a hot minute and was wide awake, being nocturnal. While he did roll to his side and start to close his eyes, from the slit of his vision still showing, he saw movement. Small movement in Martin’s bag. His regular reaction would’ve been to jump up and investigate, but the rather feral part of his fried brain saw something else in that lump, something that was quite shocking and yet not realized fully quite yet: food. Some small and defenseless creature that could satiate his ravenous hunger after being rejected the carcass he had so badly craved. It was something. Like a cat preparing for a pounce, he just stared at the lump, watching as it got closer and closer to the edge, tripping and struggling all the way. And then, he saw it: a tiny blue thing. It was extremely dark, so much so that the night vision wasn’t quite helping him decipher what on earth that was. What was it? A monkey? A mouse? Some poor unfortunate flightless bird, like a damn Kiwi?

It truly didn’t matter what it was at this point; it smelled heavenly, like the greatest diner in the state of Oklahoma. It would probably taste even better. Saliva started seeping from his mouth as he started craving whatever the hell that tiny little thing was. Now would’ve been a great time for the malfunctioning suit to switch back, but poor luck fell upon this poor turtle ship, as it would experience a quite unpleasant incident, one only discovered once the sun rose and the dust settled.

Martin, after much struggles and pushes, tripped out of the sleeping bag and onto the cold, hard floor, his arms catching him just in time to not faceplant. He took a moment to get up and tried to look around, to formulate a plan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the massive green eyes of his transformed brother, his pupils widened beyond the point that they typically go in dark places. It was something more, Martin recognized. What exactly was triggering this response from Chris wasn’t quite clear though. Happiness of seeing his brother? Focus? Hunger? This though, was more analytical thought than Chris was doing.

However much of Chris’s mind was there within his current state fluctuated, and right now, his mind was more wild than not. There was no thought, just animal instinct for a moment. With an unzipped sleeping bag, Chris lept out of his bag and pounced onto the unidentified creature, keeping it trapped within his hands. He had caught it and was in complete control of its circumstances now. Curiously, he picked it up in between 2 fingers by some sort of cloth. He ignored the fear that had covered Martin in a white, cold sheet and took a deep sniff of his brother. The smell was so strong, and so appetizing that Chris could wait no longer. Well, at least for a moment. Some more of Chris entered his mind, and thankfully this part told the rest that despite his lack of patience, he should be careful in not to harm this creature but rather to just swallow it whole. Such advice was swiftly taken.

Martin had never been more scared. He’d admit he was a bit of a scaredy cat, was frightened by shadows and the sort, but the fear was always ushered away by rationality and curiousness. This was different, however, in the sense that this was, at least to him, a real threat. He had no control over the situation, no rationality to lean on. For heaven’s sakes, his own brother was treating him as some sort of creature, a mouse, and not as his own flesh and blood brother, his lifelong friend.

Now if he thought that was bad, the lifting up above the head slow opening of Chris’ jaw to reveal his eager and awaiting maw sent a cold shiver down his spine and terminated any hope that this would be easily resolved. The sight was out of a nightmare. The teeth looked sharper and weren’t much of a pleasant invitation. The pink and squishy tongue covered with a veneer of saliva and lowered somewhat in preparation for his presence, for its next meal. At the very least his throat was healthy, flexing somewhat in anticipation for this event, and his teeth were white. The mouth of his brother was human, and yet in a way, more animal, more carnivorous.

The furred fingers gripping his shirt released, and he yelped as he landed face first into a pool of saliva and onto the squishy tongue. Quickly after, Chris’s teeth clicked shut and he was trapped. The tongue pressed up, pinning Martin against the roof and rolled him around with itself, tasting him, savoring him even, like a candy. Martin, evidently, tasted phenomenal, and he wondered if Jimmy ever felt the euphoria his brother was feeling. It wasn’t like that blue whale mouth he was in, as that was bigger and the tongue didn’t do all this. But his thoughts once again skimpered off in fear to the bunker in the back of his mind with their families in tow as Martin once again lost rationality and Chris moved Martin about the mouth, covering him in hot and slightly sticky saliva. I mean, it was NASTY, but in a way, to Martin, it was cool enough. He’d washed worse off of his clothes. Now that he was lathered and in place, the back of the tongue lowered and Chris slightly tilted his head back, allowing gravity to move his brother into his throat. Martin could only scream as he rolled into the back of the throat, and with Chris taking a deep swallow, he was forced into the throat. It took another swallow to get him far enough down for peristalsis to take over for him.

Chris put a finger on his throat to feel the irregular shape of the creature inside him, being tugged deeper and deeper. It was wonderful. This was unlike anything else he had ever done. The feral-ish (have to be careful using that word) part of his malfunctioning mind acting on its urges and following its basic instinct to consume, he felt satisfied at a good meal. Once the morsel that he usually called his brother disappeared beneath the collarbone, he laid back down on his sleeping bag as he felt the drop of Martin falling into his stomach.

It was an unceremoniously plop, really, as Chris didn’t catch himself and landed square on his head and fell backward onto his, well, back. It was indeed a stomach, humid as all hell, with wrinkles everywhere and a clear bile at the bottom that was really just a puddle. As far as sight was concerned, there was none, but as for smell, hoo boy. It was the smell of spoiled food of meals past, of bacteria’s chemicals. Truly, it was rank. He’d rather be back in the mouth of that grouper he saved the pufferfish from. The natural reaction to being eaten alive is usually fear, panic, sadness, etc, and while for a time this is how Martin felt, it was overcome by curiousness before long. He started recording with his creaturepad, marveling at the stomach walls moving and churning him around this moist environment, similar in a way to the swamps they’d been in in Florida while looking for crocodiles. The way the body worked was fascinating and his mind raced, taking notes of the process. How the mouth had soaked him and the muscles of the mouth joined with the throat to swallow him, how said throat had worked to swiftly move him down here, and how the stomach responded to his presence. It was a good thing, him being distracted from his circumstances, how he was trapped in an organ usually filled with acids that would break him down into nutrients to fuel the body.

But that was peculiar, how they were just not there, something Martin picked up on after feeling the mucus on the stomach wall protecting it from self-destructing. Why on Earth weren’t digestive enzymes present? He was grateful they weren’t here so he wasn’t in danger, but still, perplexing, no? The space without said threat was relaxing in a way, the heat and limited bile working to soothe his weary body and tired mind, to sort of whirl him to sleep. While he was laying against the wall, he was fighting to stay awake, but ultimately, he lost the battle and dozed off to unconsciousness.

Hours passed, and as the sun rose, Chris had fallen asleep, but Aviva had woken up, had already hooked his suit up to her computer so that she could patch the code and allow Chris to be free from his creature power suit. She knew that T. Devils were nocturnal and Chris too by extension, so she wouldn’t be pressed for time to do it before Chris’s suit glitched again and he went off to do something. This was barely an inconvenience this way.

When Chris finally rose, his suit had been removed and was back to normal, oblivious to the events that had transpired just hours ago. He took a look at Martin’s sleeping bag and found it empty, save for the miniaturizer. It looked like it had gone off. This was worrying: if Martin had shrunken in the night, where was he now? Then, he heard a peculiar sound from his core. A sound unlike the heartbeats and gurgles that were standard, it was almost . . . Snoring?

Peculiar, but it couldn’t be what he thought. He should just call Martin, ask him where he was. When he dialed Martin, he could hear his ringtone coming from-

His suspicions were true. He theorized that his tazzy form had seen Martin shrunken and decided he was prey, catching him and swallowing him whole. But there weren’t any acids present, thankfully, so Martin had unintentionally fallen asleep. He didn’t blame him: it had been a LONG night, so he needed some rest. Chris chose not to inform the others of his discovery, but rather to talk a morning walk. Once Martin woke up, Chris would release him. They’d tell the others that he had had a run in with a hungry devil, but not which hungry devil. Then, they’d wait until night to tag more of the devils. But until then (and until Aviva and Koki inevitably found out the truth and lectured them), it would just be an alone nature walk, but with Martin, not truly alone.

Ladies and gentlemen, theys and gays, I’ve got something splendid for you all today. It’s time for:

tefifonconnoisseur’s OC dump!

Disclaimer: I went through a deep dive for OCs I’ve created since 2021, and every drawing after the first was before my drawing class and thus around 2021-22, since I didn’t draw much last year, and what I did was just OC doodles.

All characters work for the DDB, a news company that reports on either the most nothing news or almost gets themselves killed, with very little in between.

If you want more info on any of this, feel free to ask either on my page or in the comments.

I do touch on vore throughout, but mostly roles and a brief thing about it at the end. This is mostly G/T centric though

All is below the cut for the sake of not filling your feed. Please don’t use my OCs without my permission.

Aristotle Buttermilk

Age: 18

Position at DDB: Reporter

Status: Prey

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: AroAce

Misc.: Autistic, prefers peace, enjoys classical music and any music considered “gay”

Carlene Fernsby

Age: 43

Position at DDB: CEO

Status: Wants nothing to do with vore, prey if you enjoy pain

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Straight

Misc: Prone to violence and Karen behavior, guards Aristotle from himself and is his protector. Carlene hates Francine but hasn’t had reason to fire her yet

Mildred Everlove

Age: 65

Position at DDB: Sound Designer and Composer

Status: Prey

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Misc: Her soulmate, Chloe, passed tragically in 1989 and thus she hasn’t been in the dating scene much since, plays Matilda Brunswick in “Titans of Philadelphia” (see more below). She’s a grandmotherly figure and caring, but not to those who hurt those she loves

Francine and Charlie Dill

Age: 28

Position at DDB: Francine is a secretary, Charlie runs HR

Status: Switch

Pronouns: Jeanne goes by she/her, Charlie by he/him

Misc: As you could guess, twins. Charlie went to college while Francine served time in the military before coming back and becoming a secretary. Charlie is a perfectionist and takes complaints seriously, while Francine is more laid-back and carefree, except not really since she’s more Karen then Carlene.

Mr. President

Age: 222

Position at DDB: President

Status: Switch

Pronouns: They/Them (Mr. Is gender-neutral)

Sexuality: Unknown

Misc: nobody knows where he came from, he just said he was the president and everyone just accepted it. He could be a god, but nobody really bothers to ask. He is actually nice weirdly enough, but nobody talks to him so nobody actually knows

Pelvis Resley

Age: 37

Position at DDB: He’s supposed to be running IT, but he probably leaves the IT staff to fend for themselves and goes to do shows

Status: Pred

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Home Depot membership card levels of straight

Misc: He does Elvis impressions and tries to get any woman breathing in his general vicinity. He would’ve been fired if Mr. President didn’t find him too funny. His personality shifts depending on how well his previous night’s show went, but nobody likes him.

Le Cube

Age: 39

Position at DDB: Cook

Status: Pred

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bi

Misc: Basically Pelvis but with more charisma and nice all the time. He prefers not to perform but rather to record jazz music.

The Selenites

Age: They’re a species, range is 0-98 usually

Position at DDB: They ruin everything

Status: Usually Preds

Misc: They’re basically the ones from “A Trip To The Moon”, just with my take. They’re aliens that occasionally show up at DDB and just wreck everything. They are 65 feet tall and they hate Mr. President, but can never get him. They are the villains of this universe.

Other basic world information:

Akin to the OCs of other vore enjoyers who won’t be named, the DDB sorta just enter other realities (fandoms) whenever they want, no explanation

The company is located in a small Midwestern town in the middle of nowhere

Shrinking tech and growing tech was perfected in 199X and the DDB’s guys keep the secrets under wraps, but not well since when things happen, EVERYONE KNOWS

Giants do exist; they live separately following the human-giant war of 1933

Due to the rules of dimensional scaling being nonexistent, the DDB crew are tiny in certain worlds but not others.

Giants are 60 years ahead of humans

Mildred Everlove has performed a show in a stomach before.

The “Titans of Philadelphia” movie centers around Matilda Brunswick and her apprentice Alfonso who assist in the human-giant war of 1933. She uses a 1905 Oldsmobile with plasma guns attached for combat. After being eaten by a giant teen, Skip, and freed, they team up with him to defeat the big bad dictator Kristopher. It was released in 1989 and became a cult classic when released on VHS in early 1990.

Stomachs only work when the owner of that stomach wants it to

Hi

It seems that the community as a whole is sleeping on the potential of the PBS Kids show “Wild Kratts”

Context: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Kratts

en.m.wikipedia.org

Wild Kratts - Wikipedia

Wild Kratts - Wikipedia

I’m not sure if it’s just obscure, but like, the show has:

Canonical G/T (via the Miniaturizer)

And several vorish scenes. To my memory, here’s some:

During a termite episode, Chris (in Termite power) gets into the mouth of some termite-eating thing, idk

A bear tries to eat one in a fish power

They’re in some flying machine shrunken during the snow and Aviva and Koki are sticking their tongues out and they have to avoid them. OOH

The platypus episode where Chris, miniaturized, is kidnapped by Gourmond and is referred to as an appetizer or something by Zach 👀

A whole episode dedicated to a game where the brothers catch their shrunken friends in the mouths of their suits. When Jimmy is caught in pelican power, he cries out, “Please don’t swallow me!”, which idk if they can do that in the suits or not, but OH MY.

The show’s still going, but they haven’t gone the WHOLE WAY with this vorebait. I’m aware one or two people are writing vore fanfics, but I believe they’re kink pages. There is a G/T fic on Wattpad (written by some kid with bad grammar) that like the series is a TEASE in the vore department. If you see a fic from me with them, this ramble is why.

I’m in a G/T mood, might write a solely G/T fic, maybe even introduce OCs. I’ve got them, but my issue is I’d want to use ones I’ve introduced elsewhere, but I don’t want anyone finding that “elsewhere”.

Like vore is cool but G/T by itself is a goldmine.

The Peanut Butter Toast Incident (Miles Morales Unaware Vore)

I never promised I was posting these stories in order, mostly because the next story in the chronological order has 4 parts and I’m conflicted on sharing in parts as written or all in one piece. This was the first story I got a request for, and to my knowledge the first Miles Morales vore fic. This does contain unaware vore of a teenager, so be aware that’s below the cut. Enjoy! Or don’t, just please don’t burn me at the stake. I’ve got work tomorrow lol.

(We will say this takes place bedore the second one but after the first. Also Y/N for flavor points (which means your name). I know he has a roommate, but oh well. A Marvel plot with this plot was suggested by nickyjel123, and I figured I’d use my own Marvel pred “crush” [idk the term for preferred pred in a non-sexual way if there is one])

A normal morning in a dorm is, as you’d expect, usually plain and consists of mundane tasks one does to prepare themselves for a long, monotonous day of school work. Things like getting dressed, brushing teeth, preparing one’s backpack, making coffee in the communal kitchen or some cereal if you’re a baller. This is done with a level of grog often from bad sleep. For Miles Morales, this was that morning. Upon unceremoniously popping open his eyes due to a loud alarm and slowly stretching and making his way out of the bottom bunk, he began to get dressed in uniform, a typical suit that made him even more tired. Slowly, he lifted his pants onto his waist, weaved his black, slightly cracked leather belt through, and buttoned way too many buttons. Checking himself in the mirror, he had bags under his eyes from a study-filled night previously and his hair was somewhat greasy, although today Miles couldn’t be bothered to rectify his uncleanliness with anything but layers of deodorant and a spritz of gel. This was his appearance as he went through the door and towards the communal kitchen.

For Y/N though, this would be a morning that would live in infamy for its lack of luck and sheer stupidity that could rival certain programs on children’s cartoon programming. Upon awakening, Y/N popped up and slammed their head against the ceiling, causing a red circular mark to appear on their forehead. This awoke the folks in the dorm above them, who of all people were the worst ones to deal with. The particular gentleman involved in the forthcoming drama has chosen to remain anonymous, but shall henceforth be referred to by a fake name: Buford.

Buford was a STEM student pursuing the highest level of education offered at Brooklyn Visions Academy and in several of the same classes as Miles. Buford, however, was a rougher personality from old money who was not fond of Miles, but more importantly hated Y/N due to their pursuing of art and their more effeminate personality. He would often call Y/N names in passing or would steal their things and destroy them. This time though, he was in the mood to make Y/N’s day so much worse. See, his brother had created a device that could reduce matter to a fraction of its size, effectively shrinking it. Due to the nature of atoms, this effect would be temporary and last for a time that hasn’t quite been measured, but was less than 12 hours based on testimony.

This device was Buford’s way of payback: to shrink them so that hopefully they’d end up getting into hjinx. See, he doubted Y/N could be actually killed; the increased density of the atoms made the recipient of the shrinking much more resilient to things like falls or being stepped on. It would just suck and scare Y/N some. So, Buford set his action into plan and shot an orb into the floor vent, as the bouncing would inevitably lead to it reaching Y/N’s bed. The orb made a loud electric banging sound with each bounce, bouncing faster until it eventually sunk down the vent and directly onto Y/N’s sore head, making a splatting sound as it was absorbed into their hair follicles.

At first, Y/N found this to be an annoyance, slightly peeved that Buford had, at least in their mind, shot them with some sort of pellet. As they made his way to the ladder, they thought it might be a couple inches taller, but chalked it up to their grogginess and near-concussion a few moments prior. However, as they descended the ladder, they found that each step was farther away from their foot, until they had to leap off the bottom of the ladder. At this precise moment, they took a deep look around and started realizing what exactly was happening to them: shrinking, and at a pretty good rate. They noticed the details of the carpet become finer and finer, and eventually decently sized until each little follicle was up to their waist. Thankfully, their oversized shirt and pajamas had been afflicted by this orb’s atom reduction as well due to complicated things that we aren’t going to bother explaining because any attempt to do so would be so far off from logic, it would be a disservice to us and you.

As you’d expect when someone who’s usually decent height becomes a few inches tall, fear gripped their heart like a snapping turtle: unceasing and hard. At this moment, Y/N had nothing: no aid, no way to call for help, no method of finding anyone, and not much vocal power to even try. Some other factors included the fact that it was cleaning day, so someone would be in to vacuum them up, as well as it was a school day, so if they didn’t get help soon, they’d have to wait until 4, or later if Miles didn’t come back, as was a trend.

A trend that didn’t offer Y/N too many favors. Miles was pretty good at art, but Y/N couldn’t get pointers on theirs for often several days at a time. Typical schoolwork was not our protagonist’s strongest still, which made things even worse when help vanished from the dorm. They often had to find someone else to help them, which tended to be people who didn’t exactly know what they were teaching either.

However, it was the morning, and they knew that Miles would be eating peanut butter toast in the kitchen for an amount of time as he would often talk with a friend or two. If Y/N could make it over in time, they could get help. As quick as they could (which was honestly not bad pace), they ran off to the dorm commons.

Miles got distracted in the communal kitchen for a minute catching up on last-minute studying for a Physics exam that was inevitably going to nab him a decent grade. Whether this grade was up to scrutiny was another question. This setback didn’t matter too much; Miles tended to eat pretty quickly without his table manners being watched like a hawk by his parents. They had always done everything they could to raise Miles to become a model member of society: making sure he was putting in maximum effort into his work, learning life lessons, and other things that would keep him from a life of poverty and violence. Unfortunately, one lesson was not taught, a lesson that doesn’t matter nearly as much unless you’ve got an enemy around: check your food BEFORE you eat it. It was a lesson often learned by those with allergies and the picky eaters of our society, oftentimes the hard way for the latter who naturally assumed their sandwich wouldn’t have mayonnaise and made their server suffer for their lack of foresight. For those without that though, who cares?

Y/N panted, but as they looked up, an exhausted gasp emitted from them. Miles was gargantuan, his upper details barely visible from their view, but the smaller details of their shoes and legs were heightened. Every speck of sweat, every scratch and imperfection in the leather, every leg hair was visible as if it was under a magnifying glass. Those details were heightened at a level humanity often never gets to see. This daze that Y/N experienced didn’t last, as it was rudely shattered by the bellowing pop of the toaster.

Time was running out. Y/N found a stool and wrapped themselves around the leg of it, inching their way up like a caterpillar. After lots of pain, they managed to reach up onto the seat and pull themselves off. They jumped onto the handle of a drawer, but losing grip in one of their hands. Sweat from their hand transferred to the handle and loosened its grip too. Looking down, the hard tile promised a swift death to anyone who dared fall from such a height onto it. Closing his eyes, his grip let loose and he fell…

As Miles spread his peanut butter onto his toast, he thought about his roommate, Y/N. He heard a bang from their hall, and he wondered if it was Y/N banging their head hard or if it was Buford ding-dong-ditching him for the 2nd time this week. He was fully aware of the beef between the two, and hoped that he wouldn’t have to go to Buford’s again and risk losing their acquaintanceship. Then again, Y/N was a closer friend, so did he need to ditch Buford.

His thoughts lead the peanut butter toast to slip from the plate, landing upright below the handle of the drawer, exactly where Y/N fell. The timing was perfect, and Y/N survived by falling into the peanut butter. The impact still winded them for a moment, but they realized they were in this peanut butter. They didn’t realize yet that the peanut butter was slightly sticky.

Within the 5 seconds it fell, Miles gripped the toast, unaware of his roommate near the edge. A sense of vertigo fell upon Y/N as they rose up to Miles’ level. Their near-death accident not only had been prevented, it might nab them help. As loud as their baby little lungs could provide, they shouted out for Miles for assistance. Despite their effort however, their sound waves were unable to penetrate Miles’ large greasy ears, in part due to a loud fan keeping the air circulating in the room, an in part due to his minute size. At the very least, Miles’ eyes worked perfectly and hopefully would notice them waving their arms. It was with a degree of effort and their frustration that their arms had sunk into the thick, creamy peanut butter. Despite all of his effort into waving, they couldn’t penetrate the creamy butter. Their only hope was for Miles to spot them. To their utter fear, when Miles opened his mouth wide, revealing all of the details in their tongue and gums that they realized in fear that they had not been noticed. They couldn’t help but notice that his teeth were white and shiny, but sharp and somewhat pointy. The taste buds and other spots on his thick pink tongue were quite obvious at this size. Saliva coated it in a thin veneer, revealing Miles’ ravenous hunger. His throat looked healthy, with a lack of tonsils noticeable and his uvula being relatively short, not grabbable, that’s for sure. As their heart beat faster and faster with fear, Miles bit down on the bit of toast Y/N resided in. Quickly, Y/N was covered in moist toast and water-soaked peanut butter and was swished back and forth, somehow missing every single tooth that bit down on the clumps of food in Miles’ mouth. Hot, somewhat minty, somewhat rank breath filled the cavern and made the air stagnant. This was hell. Every single second that ticked by was filled with yelling and fear, filth and heat. Y/N screamed for help, begging Miles not to swallow. A wet sound rang through as their begging fell on deaf ears and they slid towards the awaiting opening to the throat.

Miles switched the fan off, and while continued chewing heard a familiar voice, extremely quiet but close at the same time. In order to hear this voice better, he decided to gulp down the food in his mouth, sending Y/N down the slick, wet tube known as the esophagus. He thought he had heard the voice say not to swallow, but he couldn’t imagine why.

Fear coursed through Y/N’s vains as the rhythmic gulping sent them further and further down the tube, squeezing them and keeping air from their chest, nearly making him pass out, until eventually they fell into the stomach, face first into the liquid below. This place was essentially a smelly sauna cranked. The place was immensely hot and stagnant, with a liquid smelling of acid hiked up to Y/N’s chest. White bubbles covered the walls like vines. Despite what they had just learned about the sulfuric acid present in the stomach, Y/N weirdly felt no pain or any other effect. It was just unbearably hot. They continued to yell, but were drowned out by the churning noises as the stomach processed the toast clumps next to him. Just when they thought this couldn’t be any more miserable, clumps of peanut butter and toast fell onto them and penetrated their already-ruined clothes and just made them feel even worse, as if the humidity couldn’t ruin their mood more.

Miles, finished with the meal, wondered what the voice had wanted him not to swallow for. It has sounded like Y/N, but it couldn’t have been them. Maybe it was his imagination or someone’s phone in the hall behind the wall they were facing. Around this time, Buford entered the room, eyeing Miles as he grabbed a protein shake from the fridge.

“Hey [Buford], have you seen Y/N this morning? I’m worried about them?” Miles inquired.

“No”, Buford said, giggling.

Miles didn’t believe Buford, saying, “Don’t lie to me. I know you two have something against each other. If you did something, I’m going to have to report you, and I don’t think that would be worth your time with how many warnings you’ve received already.”

Buford realized he wasn’t in the mood to go to the office despite the fact that his parents would make this charge go away like the others.

“Let’s just say my new atom reducer works…”, he replied, dashing away like a coward.

Miles, tired as he was, attempted to piece together everything in his mind. He wondered if Y/N had managed to get to him…

About this time is when he realized what had happened: he had somehow, someway, eaten Y/N. His closest friend here, he had just swallowed them, consumed them like they were nothing to him but just a garnish. Miles felt light-headed and a sense of vertigo at this moment and ran to the trash can, vomiting everything in his stomach out.

Around the time Buford came around, Y/N had gone from yelling to crying. They were now alone in this hell of an organ, with nobody knowing about this. He was going to die here, and nobody would even know what had happened. His tears were interrupted when the entire stomach sloshed to the side, knocking Y/N into the juices. The entire stomach squished up, and Y/N was shoved forcefully back up the tube and expelled past the uvula and every single tooth into the waste bin.

Miles quickly spotted Y/N and cupped them into his palm, hyperventilating and panicking.

“I’m so sorry dude, are you okay?! I’m so so sorry! I can’t believe I let this happen to you!”

Y/N replied hoarsely,

“It’s fine, I’m good,” Y/N replied, tears still stuck on their face indicating that they weren’t good at all. Miles grabbed a moist paper towel and washed Y/N off. This was an odd sensation. Here he was, holding his friend in his hand, cradling and protecting him in his most vulnerable position, like a baby is by their mother. Y/N felt like a baby, but felt nurtured and protected, cared about. Staring into Miles’ large spherical eyes, he saw Miles in a different way. More than a friend, but a protector, a caregiver, maybe even more. They almost didn’t want this moment to end.

Miles checked his watch and realized he was running out of time. Apologizing, he left Y/N on the dresser of the dorm with a granola bar and a cotton ball for a chair, and dashed out. Y/N was usually annoyed when Miles left him in times like this, irritated or just generally apathetic. But now, he wished that Miles would be there, not for his help, but for his presence and care. There was also the issue of their classes. They would have to miss them and had no alibi or excuse. Thankfully, Y/N generally had a good reputation and didn’t miss many classes, so punishment wouldn’t be that severe.

By the time Miles returned that afternoon, Y/N had returned to normal size, clearly having showered and changed clothes. They kinda looked cute in their Rolling Stones shirt and lounge pants, with their messy hair nearly covering their eyes. The situation earlier had been a nightmare for them both, and would be henceforth referred to as the “Peanut Butter Toast Incident”, but was more of a bonding experience for the two. Miles moved from peanut butter toast to other kinds of toast and refused to eat it with peanut butter up until the writing of this story at least.

We’d love to tell you that Buford changed or got any consequences for this, but nothing could be proven for sure. Burford improved none, as you’d expect. A few weeks later, due to separate circumstances, they did move a floor up in the dorms, but that’s about it.

As for Miles and Y/N, this was the start of a close relationship, whether platonic or romantic we don’t care to know. It was either way the start of something new between the two that started with Buford and some peanut butter toast.