Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dear Bubble,

Fanny stared at the mostly blank page, mumbling to herself. The words in her mind felt so difficult to write out into coherent sentences. She glanced over to the pile of opened letters next to her, each one penned in neat handwriting. She took a look back at the chicken scratch on the paper and sighed.

Bubble made it seem so easy - every letter she had sent her since she stayed behind to battle for a BFB always had a charm to it. Every paragraph, every sentence and every word was unmistakably Bubble. Yet, Fanny struggled to pick out anything that would display her unmistakable feelings, too.

‘I have feelings for you’ is too sappy.

‘I’m in love with you’ is too blunt.

Fanny struggled thinking of a sentence that was still her. She didn’t want Bubble to miss the message she was writing with the intention of conveying, but writing something she wouldn’t say didn’t feel right.

I’ve realised that there are many things I hate in this world, but… I don’t think I hate you.

I… actually miss you. A lot.

Fanny reminisced about her short stay on iance. She had never connected with anyone before. She didn’t think she would connect with anyone.

Until Bubble.

It was the first time Fanny felt as if an object cared about her personally. Sure, you had other objects such as Leafy who would spout empty words of consideration, but it never amounted to anything between them. With Bubble, however, she made her feel as if she genuinely cared.

She made her feel as if she was even worth being cared for.

Without hate, there is no strive for improvement. That’s just something I’ve lived by.

And try as I might - and trust me, I’ve tried… I can’t see any imperfections with you.

I was so confused what to think of you. I was so confused what to think of myself.

I believed I am worthy of hate. And I think I still am. But…

You make me think that perhaps… it isn’t as bad as I initially thought.

As she wrote line after line, she reflected on the moments she shared with Bubble, and the moments she spent without her.

She didn’t want to be separated from Bubble, but she didn’t want to compromise her own beliefs about what show was right for her. She couldn’t trust Four - they already betrayed her and the other contestant’s trust.

I thought I’d hate your presence, but now I miss it. Hopefully when both of the competitions end we can see each other again.

I’ve come to realise that I

Fanny paused and put her pen down. She was starting to get nervous. This is the most crucial line in the entire letter, and she didn’t want to mess things up. She took a deep breath and stared at the half finished letter.

value every moment with you, no matter what you do, you brighten up every room around you. This feeling is something I’ve never felt before, and whenever I think of you it’s so intense. Smiles are my weakness and I think yours is the prettiest.

You’re the object I care about the most.

I love you, Bubble.

I really do, and I hate how overwhelming these feelings are. I don’t think I can stand keeping them to myself any longer. No matter how you’ll respond, I’ll accept it.

Yours,

Fanny.

As soon as she punctuated the sentence, she immediately folded the paper to fit the envelope she had ready, trying to not think about the burning sensation in her cheeks. She hated being embarrassed, but it was hard to not be. She wished she could face Bubble in person, maybe then her feelings would come out more natural.

No matter how long it would take, Fanny would wait nervously for a response. After all, passing papers is a decent way to flirt, right?

Chapter Text

Unremarkable.

Average.

Mediocre.

Bland.

Surrounding her, an endless white void stared at her. No matter what direction she walked in, nothing seemed to change. Likewise, her voice felt lost in her throat. No matter how many times she tried to call out, no sound escaped her lips.

A sudden rumbling caused her to stop her aimless wandering, and suddenly she was propelled upwards by a lilac block.

“[C].”

Gaty awkwardly turned around, and staring her in the face stood a large screen. It displayed the one comment, before another was added, followed by another upwards burst from the block below her.

“I'm commenting [C] because I want Gaty eliminated.”

“[C].”

As the comments piled in, another block was added. She could barely maintain her balance as she wobbled on the platform.

“[C] Hey look, Gaty is the most blandest person on the team.”

“[C].”

Curiosity ate at her. She couldn’t help but keep her eyes open as she stared at the comments flowing in. Was this really how she was perceived? Was this really what the viewers thought of her?

“[C] I vote for her because we haven't seen her help in some challenges. She is kinda bland anyway.”

“[C], kinda useless in the grand scheme of things.”

“[C] Gaty IS WAY too bland.”

More and more blocks, more and more comments. In total…

“[C].” 1 thousand

“[C]”. 5 hundred

“[C].” and

“[C].” 9

1509.

By the 100th comment, Gaty’s self consciousness started to eat at her. And now, 1509 blocks high, a shadow stood in front of her, its form never staying consistent. It changed every moment, twisting into various contortions that vaguely resembled herself and those she knew.

Its voice, too, sounded so familiar yet so distant at the same time. It was an amalgamated chorus of voices she recognised.

“1509. That is one thousand.

Five hundred.

And nine people.

One thousand, five hundred and nine people.

All who want you gone.

Who’s to say it will stay stagnant?

Unlike you, it will not lay dormant.

Your votes will chase you until you trip.

One mistake will turn people against you.

It doesn’t matter how idle you are, how passive you are, how much or little you contribute. Either you will trip. Or the others will shine so bright, that you will crack.

And your blandness will be solely how you are perceived.”

Suddenly, it approached Gaty. She instinctively backed off, now standing on the edge of the block. She cast a quick glance to the unseen bottom.

“How many people will remember you once you’re gone?”

And before she could react, she was pushed. As she fell, she could see the top block, and the shadow on top, shrinking every moment. Time felt as if it was slowing down. Gaty could hear one last sentence from the shadow as she neared the ground.

“I doubt it’s any more than one thousand, five hundred and nine.”

“Hgk… AAHH!”

Gaty sprung up suddenly, her eyes shot open. She could feel her body collide with something as she sat up, alert and awake.

“O-Ow!”

Was that… Saw?

Gaty swiftly turned around, and sure enough, Saw stood there, rubbing her temples.

“Gaty…? Are you okay?”

Even now, her voice felt lost. As tears crept in the corners of her eyes, she quickly turned away from Saw.

Saw didn’t say anything. Gaty could feel her hand gently rest on the top of one of her pickets. The touch felt… warm, comforting.

“Was it a nightmare?” Saw asked softly.

“Y… Yeah… but I’ll be… fine…” Gaty trailed off, distracted as she felt Saw’s arms wrap around her frame.

“I’m here for you, like how you’re always there for me. Don’t be afraid to tell me anything…”

Gaty leant into her touch, squinting her eyes as her tears started flowing.

“Thank… you…”

Saw held her close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. Gaty only let out a few sniffles as the two of them stayed like that for a while.

Gaty took deep breaths with encouragement from Saw. Once she felt like she wouldn’t choke through her sentences, she spoke.

“You’re really the best, Saw…” She murmured, leaning into her chest, “I feel like… I don’t have to fear elimination when I’m with you.”

“Is that what the nightmare was about?”

“Yeah… I’m worried that I’m too… bland. I know 1509 votes is nothing compared to Dora’s 11,109 but… that’s still a lot of people who wanted me gone… what if more people will want me out next episode? And then the episode after that?”

Saw frowned and pulled Gaty closer.

“I understand it’s… strange feeling like so many people voted for you, I feel like 250 voters from mine to your votes is such a huge difference if I saw them in person, but compared to every vote in total… it really isn’t much.” Saw spoke. Gaty looked up at Saw, who gave her an understanding smile.

“I mean… sure, more people might vote for you next episode, but fewer people could vote for you, too, you know? More people could like you, and if they don’t… that’s their loss.”

Gaty gave a small smile and sighed.

“Thanks, Saw… I’m just so worried about being eliminated, sometimes it just clouds my brain. Ugh… I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Hey, now… Don’t be sorry! It’s okay to be vulnerable. The last thing I’d want for you is to face this alone. I worry about you sometimes.” Saw gently wiped away the remaining tears.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Saw…” Gaty mumbled, “you’re my best friend and I couldn’t ask for more.”

“You’re my best friend too, Gaty. I love you to bits.”

Gaty stopped herself from replying. She didn’t want to misread the signs of platonic love for romantic love, but… she couldn’t deny that she also loved Saw to bits, too. How could one not love Saw? Gaty thought she was perfect in the fullest sense of the word. She was worried that she was too bland for Saw - too unremarkable, average, mediocre.

“O-Oh… did I say something wrong…?”

But, she didn’t want this situation to stay stagnant.

“Saw… I…”

She didn’t want to just lie dormant as her self consciousness worsens, and her heart aches. Gaty wanted to take action.

“Maybe it’s because of all the earlier emotions… but I really have to get this off my chest. I love you too, but in a… more than best friend way. And I know I said I couldn’t ask for more, and I mean that. But… I don’t want to just internalise this…”

Gaty looked away from Saw, concentrating on her own breathing. Although, Saw turned her around to face her.

“Gaty. Look at me, please.”

She took a deep breath, before doing so. Saw had a gentle smile, and Gaty could feel her heart beat faster.

Without a word, Saw leant in, connecting their lips. A muted but passionate answer to Gaty’s longing heart. Gaty melted into the kiss, closing her eyes to focus on the only thing that mattered to her at that moment - Saw. And Saw did, too, still holding Gaty close as if she would slip away from her grasp.

Gaty’s cheeks, red from the tears and warmth she felt around her new lover, burnt with a passion she hadn’t felt before.

Eventually, Gaty slowly pulled away, savouring the last moments of Saw’s soft lips.

“W-Wow…” Was all Gaty could say. She was speechless.

Saw smiled and gave her a loving peck on the top of her central picket.

“I’ll always be there for you, okay?”

Gaty nodded and buried her face into Saw’s chest. She could just stay like this forever.

“So does this mean… we’re a thing?” Gaty asked, it still felt like she was dreaming. She just wanted reassurance she was awake - and not still falling.

“Of course, gosh… do you want another kiss to remind you?” Saw asked and gave a small laugh.

Gaty looked up at Saw and grinned.

“If you’re offering, then absolutely.”

To Gaty, it didn’t really matter how many people would remember her. It could be one thousand, five hundred and nine or less. All that mattered to her, was that it was at least this one person who was holding her.

If someone as bland as her was able to gain the attention of someone as radiant as Saw, then she couldn’t really ask for anything more than the promise of her love. She didn’t need to please an audience of people she would never know.

At least she’d be able to go back to sleep with pleasant dreams, and one thousand, five hundred and nine reassuring comments as Saw held her close. She smiled at Gaty’s small figure as she drifted to sleep, closing her eyes not too long after. It felt like it had been one thousand and nine days of crushing on Gaty, and after all this time… she could confidently say that it was worth it.

Chapter Text

The sun began to set on the first day of The Power of Two, and Price Tag sighed in relief. They had managed to get by the first challenge without messing up, yet they were still nervous. In a group of forty-two contestants, being one of two newbies felt intimidating. There appeared to be certain quirks and traits of others that their teammates knew, but they were unaware of. At least their team seemed amicable? Price Tag was at least glad they were accepted by a group of nice objects - no one seemed to dislike them, which was always a positive!

They glanced over to their team, who were all chatting in smaller groups. From what they could tell, Naily and Bomby seemed to have the closest connection out of Just Not. Apart from that, the others appeared to only be acquainted with each other, apart from Book and Nickel, which Price Tag had gathered to have been on a team before in a past season.

Giving a small sigh, they hoped their worries weren’t too obvious. Price Tag was an expressive object, after all. They just wished they were as familiar with the show as the others seemed to be.

“Hey, Taggy.” Naily’s voice suddenly snapped them out of their thoughts, they spun around to see Naily stood there, her usual mischievous grin on her face.

“Oh, hey Naily,” Price Tag responded, trying their best to mask their worry.

“Those carets aren’t fooling me! … there's also a semicolon,” She mumbled the last part, but slid closer to them, “What’s up?”

Price Tag could feel a colon and backslash on their face for a moment, before they sighed - a display of zeros and ‘o’s.

“You caught me. I guess I’m just… worried. Everyone seems to know what they’re doing and everything about each other, but I’m less experienced,” They responded, their expression resting on a straight face.

“Oh! Bomby and I could help you!” Naily beamed, “we’ll teach you all you need to know!”

“Really? Thanks!” Price Tag smiled, and followed Naily to where Bomby was sitting. He waved to the both of them. Price Tag knew he wasn’t expecting anything back, but a forward slash and tilde was enough to send the message.

Naily and Price Tag sat down near Bomby, the trio forming a triangle.

“Taggy wanted to know more about the other contestants ‘n other stuff!”

“Thanks again, Naily,” Price Tag smiled.

“No problem, now… what do you want to know about first?”

“Maybe… what happened in the previous seasons?” Price Tag suggested, “that might be a good place to start.”

“Bomby probably knows more than me about that… he’s competed more than I have.”

Bomby nodded,“I almost joined BFDI, but lost to David… but I was there a few times outside that chance, too.”

Price Tag noted how quick Bomby got his sentences out - it took a few seconds to fully realise what he had said, but they could get used to it. Naily seemed to understand him instantly.

“The contestant who won BFDI stayed behind for BFB… other than that, there are only nine contestants out of the original twenty-two who are competing here.”

Nine? Out of the forty-two here… that’s roughly twenty-percent. Which isn’t too bad… Price Tag thought. It was a comforting thought that there weren’t more season one veterans than they had initially thought.

“And that’s the only full season so far! Other than BFB, of course,” Naily chimed in.

“Wait, wait… so… the only people who have competed in a season that’s reached completion is those nine?” Price Tag asked. The two nodded.

“Yup! BFDIA never finished, right?” Naily cast a glance to Bomby, who gave another nod, “IDFB wasn’t really a competition, and BFB got split!”

“Oh, wow… that makes me feel a lot better,” Price Tag smiled, “still… it must be useful to know so many people.”

“I guess? But you have us now!” Naily grinned and scooted over closer to Price Tag, “and I’m sure you’ll get along with the rest of Just Not, too!”

“Thanks, Naily. And thank you Bomby, too.”

Bomby also moved closer to the two of them, wrapping his arms around the both of them. The two, being armless, just leaned into the hug.

Price Tag smiled and closed their eyes, leaning close. They could get used to this feeling. This feeling of comfort, with people they could trust. This feeling of home that they brought, and, hopefully, this feeling of familiarity which they desperately wished to keep feeling.

Chapter Text

Speaker sighed to himself as he shifted through a stack of papers. It was another long day at work, and he was getting tired of the same routine day to day. But, it needed to be done, and he couldn’t avoid work. He glanced at the phone on his desk. Was it wrong to wish for some excitement? Something new, something to interrupt the draining routine Speaker had found himself in? It was unusual for someone as serious as Speaker to want a little chaos, but he had found himself missing the unexpected.

He placed the papers back down on the desk. The pile wasn’t getting any smaller than what it was the day before, and the office wasn’t getting any less lonesome, either.

A small thud from behind the door alerted him to a presence.

“Ow… I probably shouldn’t have kicked it…” A voice murmured from the other side. A few seconds later, Sketchpad burst through the door, energised and glowing with energy.

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt one of these days, being so reckless,” Speaker commented, but couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Sketchpad, as tiresome and clingy as he is sometimes, was still enjoyable to be around.

“Pshaw! Don’t worry yourself, I’m perfectly capable!” They beamed, putting their hands on their hips.

“Right. Anyway, what brings you to my office?” Speaker asked, “you haven’t visited in a bit.”

“And that’s why I decided to change that! Let’s hang out today,” Sketchpad grinned, scrambling up a chair until she was able to jump on top of the desk.

“I’ve love to, but…” Speaker side, motioning to the non-sentient paper, “work has been busy lately.”

“Then take a break! You know what they say - ‘Taking a break can lead to breakthroughs’,” He smiled and jumped on top of the stack of papers, “so, let’s leave this stuffy room. Just you and me!”

Speaker hesitated. It would be nice to take a break, but what if he falls even further behind? It was definitely a concerning thought, with how far behind he already feels. Sketchpad did have a point, on the other hand, and this office did clog up his brain sometimes.

“Alright,” He chuckled and smiled, “fine, you win. What do you wanna do?”

“Yes!” Sketchpad quietly exclaimed, doing a small fist pump before speaking up, “I was thinking something casual! Like, go to the park or something!”

“I mean, sure, but why there?” Speaker asked, curious.

“We could have a picnic - ooh! It would be like the bonding time I never got as a child!”

Ah, Speaker mused, that would explain it. Speaker hardly knew how to reply to the statement.

“So… you’re projecting onto me?”

“Yup!” Sketchpad beamed.

Well, at least they’re direct about it.

Speaker assumed it would be a single comment - something Sketchpad still meant but never pursued. It was a common thing from her, he had noticed, self-deprecating jokes that were never melancholic was Sketchpad’s speciality.

“Fair enough, I guess I can’t really tell you not to. So… let’s go.”

Speaker led the way as the two walked to the nearest park. Being a local cop, he had pretty good knowledge of the area in the city, even if it was for more… concerning reasons that gave him the knowledge. It wasn’t uncommon to see crimes take place in parks, after all.

But today he was taking the day off of work, so he tried to stop thinking about it.

As soon as the arch of the park entrance came into view, Sketchpad ran ahead of him, checking over their shoulder every so often as if Speaker would disappear if they didn’t make sure he was still there. Eventually, he got to the arch and stood underneath it, leaning against the cool metal as Speaker caught up.

“You can be quite fast,” Speaker joked and smiled.

“Only if I want to be!” Sketchpad responded, before starting to walk into the park, “c’mon!”

Speaker trailed behind as Sketchpad led the way. She eventually picked a spot of grass in the open and sat down. As soon as Speaker caught up, he sat down opposite. The grass was ever-so-slightly damp from the rain yesterday, but not enough to cause too much of an issue for either of the objects.

The park was semi quiet, only a few families and individuals were hanging around the area. Speaker thought it was a shame - this park, despite its history, was definitely a nice area when it isn’t a crime scene. He remembered taking a couple of cases that the park was involved in, and how the follow-up reports were tedious.

And here he was, thinking about work again.

“Somethin’ on your mind?” Sketchpad asked. Speaker hadn’t noticed that whilst he was thinking, the object had leant close, hands on their hips as they inspected his expression with a magnifying glass.

“Just… my workload, I guess,” Speaker admitted and watched Sketchpad.

“You’re here to relax, remember! As Leafy from BFDI once - or twice - said, ‘there’s a life out there to enjoy - so enjoy it!’ And outside of work, there’s a much more exciting life!” Sketchpad beamed, putting away the magnifying glass.

Sketchpad’s object show references were always an eye-roller, but this time, Speaker appreciated the sentiment none-the-less.

“Right. Thanks, Sketchpad. I think I needed a distraction,” Speaker smiled and looked at him, “so… how are you holding up?”

“Hm? Me?” Sketchpad questioned. She seemed taken aback by the question, as if Speaker had spoken in an unknown language.

“Yeah - how are you generally feeling? Anything weighing you down?”

“I mean…” Sketchpad mumbled, was that a hint of hesitation in their voice? “... nope! Nothing at all!”

“You’re a bad liar,” Speaker huffed, “cough it up. What’s wrong?”

“Ughhhhh…” Sketchpad whined before crossing his arms, “do I have to say?”

“Well… not if you don’t want to. But, I still want to make sure you’re okay.”

Sketchpad fell silent, thinking to herself. Speaker watched and waited patiently. He had never seen them this uncertain or concerned before - usually they were so impulsive that Speaker sometimes wondered if their body acted before their brain could.

“I don’t want to sour the mood, and I’d rather just spend time here with you!” He finally spoke up, his bright demeanour returning.

“... Is it about what you said before about projecting onto me?” Speaker asked, slowly. He wanted to approach the topic as gently as possible. The reaction to his comment was immediate in her face, and he quickly spoke up before she could.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but…” Speaker gave them a soft smile, “I’m here if you need me - I don’t mind how you look at me.”

“Really?” Sketchpad mumbled, unsure, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Of course, it doesn’t matter if your form of escapism is watching object shows, or projecting onto me, I’ll accept it. And besides… I think having these breaks will be healthy for me, too.”

Sketchpad grinned and stood up, somehow seeming more excited than ever.

“I think this is the best breakthrough I’ve ever had!”

Chapter Text

Tonight was the coldest night Taco had ever experienced. The cool breeze that seeped through the leaves of the bush she was huddled behind was not the only thing that made her feel so… cold, isolated and bitter.

Her thoughts wandered too far, further than she had allowed herself before. Taco hadn’t allowed herself to think of anything to do with Microphone since… she had quit. Maybe it was the fear of realising something was wrong with her, or the denial she still felt. She didn’t know.

The only thing she was certain of was that she was cold and lonely.

‘Lonely’ was such an odd word to Taco. She was a lone wolf, going solo and never needed anyone.

But why did she feel such yearning for company now?

Was it the fact that she got used to Mic around? Was it the relief of being able to confide, however small, in another object?

Or was it that weird feeling she would get whenever Mic was close…? That feeling she would push down, lock and forget about, the feeling that Taco didn’t know, and the fact that she didn’t know scared her.

Taco couldn’t deny that she missed having company.

She missed Mic.

Taco stared down at the ground and bit her lip hard. She had avoided it at every opportunity, and now it finally pushed back. And now, she was feeling as cold as ever.

She was truly alone.

Taco thought she had gained something… she took it for granted, and now she’s lost it.

Is this punishment? A cruel punishment for not realising earlier?

What a cold, cold punishment.

Taco stood up, inhaling sharply. She was still unsure about a lot of things, but missing company wasn’t one of them.

Was it only Microphone, or was it the fact that it was especially Microphone presence that made her feel so warm?

Either way, it isn’t as if she couldn’t make new friends as of right now.

And she didn’t want to leave things as they were with Mic, either.

Was she ready to face all of it? Taco didn’t think so, especially not alone, but… she was willing to start.

She desperately hoped Microphone would be willing to accept this small warmth that had started to burn in her icy heart.

Taco had never felt this nervous before. It was unfamiliar, intruding and messed with all her senses.

She had begun walking before she had even realised it, her legs and her heart had reacted before her thoughts could. She fumbled with her InvisiBow nervously. Why was she being so rash? It was unlike her to do something without a plan, without reason, without structure.

As Taco walked closer to the forest edge, she felt more and more anxious. The looming tower that was OJ’s Hotel stood in the distance, and Taco could feel her heart jump.

Mic was there.

It ached, it hurt, it was still so cold.

Taco pressed the button on her bow-tie, watching as her hands and the rest of her body turned invisible. She was about to commit another crime, but this wasn’t as if it was the first time she had trespassed.

The first step out of the forest felt heavy, as if it was trying to drag her down to the ground, but she kept walking. She had barely left the forest in her time during season two, and sure as hell hadn’t seen OJ around, or any of the objects she used to know. It was for the better, but now standing so close to where they reside, Taco felt a sour taste in her mouth.

The closer she got to the hotel entrance, the more nervous she got. Would Mic understand? Would she even understand it herself?

She stepped close to one of the giant windows on the front of the building and peered in, scanning the lobby for any sign of presence that would be alarmed by a door seemingly opening itself. There was no one.

Taco slowly opened the hotel doors and slipped in, shutting them with her back as she leant against them.

Now… where was Mic’s room?

She had no idea what the layout of the hotel was, and she didn’t want to get caught out in the open, she wouldn’t put it past Microphone to recognise the bow as her.

Either way, she couldn’t waste time standing still. So she began walking in a single direction, peaking into some rooms as she passed. Some were empty, but others were occupied by others. None of them were Mic, so she pressed on.

Until she noticed him.

It was another wave of shock passed through her, and even more unpleasant thoughts that she had shoved down resurfaced.

Pickle.

Another object she had wronged sat in the room with a couple others as they played video games.

Taco scowled and walked away. She didn’t have time to feel even worse than she already was feeling.

And she didn’t want to dwell on the fact that she felt bad, either.

As she passed room by room, she started to feel even more lost.

Stupid OJ and his massive hotel.

A hotel he owns because he won season one, and not me.

That bitter, sour taste of resentment returned, and she balled her hands into fists. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that others got so much, and what was she left with?

Nothing.

Playing nice only got her so far. What did they have that she didn’t?

She made alliances.

She competed well in competitions.

She was loved enough to stay.

…

Loved enough to stay?

Taco let out a quiet sigh. That string of words hurt, and she knew the reason why.

Mic.

She shook the thoughts off. There was no time to be thinking about it if she was just going to stand around and wait. Microphone wouldn’t come to her, after all.

Taco searched a few floors of the hotel until she peeked into a room that caught her attention.

It was a bedroom, one side completely spotless, and the other had a few accessories.

But other than that, it looked clean. It looked new. As if someone had recently moved in and had haphazardly dumped their stuff in a general area. No one was inside, however.

Should I wait? But, what if her roommate walks in instead? Ugh, this is a pain…

Suddenly, she was roughly pulled by her InvisiBow into the room. She let out a shocked yelp as she immediately reacted, swinging her arms and legs back at her unknown assailant who held her.

But, she’d be lying if she said she had no idea of who it was.

They closed the door behind them before dropping Taco, standing by the door to block her way. She took a deep breath, and turned around.

… Knowing who it was didn’t make it any easier. Microphone stood against the door, arms crossed and an irritated expression.

“What. Are you doing here?” She asked, her voice felt so cold.

Taco sighed and pressed the InvisiBow once more, as much as she wanted to hide away at that moment.

“I…” She started, getting caught on her words. Where should she even start?

“... I wanted to… see how you were doing,” She finished, awkwardly glancing to the side. It was difficult to even look at Mic, let alone speak to her.

“... Right. For some reason, I don’t believe that.”

“Believe what you will. I’m telling the truth - no strings attached,” Taco spoke, putting her hands up defensively as she made eye contact with Microphone.

“I…” Microphone groaned and put a hand on her head, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t like it. When have you ever cared about how I was?”

Taco flinched at the comment, slightly offended, but understanding.

“Since we became a team?”

“We weren’t… really a team, it was just you directing me,” She mumbled, “it was a ‘mutually beneficial relationship’. You never seemed… to care. At all. All you cared about was the prize money.”

“Then why am I here now? It’s because-”

“-because you want to take advantage of me again?” Microphone cut in, taking a step towards Taco, “Because you want something from me? Because you’ve lost your chance again!?”

Microphone was stood in front of Taco now. Taco didn’t move, and stood her ground.

“You’re assuming things here, Mic, I wanted to help you!”

“And if you actually cared about that, you wouldn’t have done what you did!”

By this point, the two were both full on yelling at each other with no worry of being heard. The both of them were angry and hurt, and needed to take out their energy on each other.

“Are you daft? I can still care about you and stick to my own decisions! Either way, it isn’t my fault you’re oblivious to my feelings and how I feel when you’re around! It’s at least clear to me that I’ve cared about you more than you’ve-...”

Taco cut herself off. There was an agonising, defeating silence that fell. She had slipped up.

“... How you feel when… I’m around…?”

The look on Microphone’s face was a mix of surprise, anger and pity. It was neither cold nor warm.

Taco looked away, mumbling, “... I’ve said too much. I’ll leave now, since you want me to.”

She kept her gaze away from Microphone as she tried to walk past her, but Microphone moved to block the way once again. Taco glanced up at the girl, trying to mask the surfacing emotions.

“Wait, I never said I didn’t want you here-”

“No, no, Mic. I’m insisting. I’ll leave and get out of your way.”

Microphone reacted quickly before Taco could press her InvisiBow, grabbing her arm in a firm but gentle way.

“Taco… at least talk this through with me. Please?”

“...” Taco avoided eye contact with Microphone as she could feel her eyes sting. Her heart felt like it was on fire. The flames of her feelings burnt so much it started to hurt.

“I… I can’t. I’m barely even familiar with them myself - I can’t just spill out my feelings to you… It’s too much.”

“Then what? You’ll just bottle them up until you start to lose sight of everything around you?” Microphone sighed, “... I know from experience, let your thoughts out.”

“Mic, I… I just don’t know.” Taco could feel tears form, despite every effort to prevent them.

“Just start with what you do know, then,” Microphone replied, letting go of her arm.

“... okay…”

Taco took a deep breath.

“I… I feel so conflicted when you’re around, Mic. I’ve always had my own principles and stuck to them, but when you left… I don’t know, it’s all so confusing. I feel… as if I could do better. It’s like Pickle all over again but tenfold. I could feel my heart pang whenever you were close; it made me feel warm, something that heated my cold heart. And now that you’ve left… it’s frozen over. I just want to feel that warmth again, that feeling of contentment whenever you spoke with me, that joy I’d get from hanging out with you - even when it had nothing to do with my plans. You’re so… perfect… in a way I can’t describe, just looking at you makes me feel so… soft. I just… I just want to feel your warmth again.”

“Taco…”

“I knew this was a bad idea… I’ll just go…” Taco mumbled, now turning to approach the window. She barely got a step in before Microphone once again grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Taco barely had enough time to question what she was doing before she leant down and kissed her. She could feel that familiar warmth arise in her chest and cheeks, the perfect temperature.

The kiss only lasted a few moments before Microphone pulled away, a soft smile on her face.

“You should have said something earlier.”

Taco was still a blushing mess, stammering as she tried - and failed - to articulate her thoughts.

“If you can prove to me that you can ‘do better’, then you won’t have to spend another night cold.”

The smaller object nodded and cleared her throat, her face still as red as her tomatoes, “R-Right. I still am a bit… hesitant to change, but… if it’s for you then, I suppose I can try.”

“There we go, that’s the Taco I remember,” Microphone laughed and smiled, grabbing her hands gently, “I think I’ve also been needing this warmth for a long time, too.”

Chapter Text

As the object scribbled and doodled on the sign, she hummed discordantly to herself. She made sure that there weren’t any glaringly large empty spots, filling them in with small doodles. Most of them were Ice Cube, but occasionally she would draw herself nearby.

The sound of the permanent pen drowned out the quieter sounds of footsteps, and Bracelety didn’t notice until two legs entered her peripheral vision.

Looking up, she saw Gelatin who looked at her inquisitively.

“Heya, Bracelety.”

“... Hi.”

“I would ask what you’re doing, but I think I already know,” Gelatin chuckled and sat down opposite her.

Bracelety nodded and glanced back to her sign, looking over for any spots, “Icy deserves more than one sign, so I like to change it up.”

Gelatin watched as Bracelety started doodling on the sign again.

“What do you think about Ice Cube?”

Bracelety looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Even she knew how obvious her idolisation of Ice Cube was, and she was starting to wonder if Gelatin was just trying to make conversation, or was genuinely oblivious.

“I mean, I know you’re her fan, but… is there anything more?” Gelatin asked and leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face, “like, say… a crush?”

Immediately, Bracelety dropped the pen she was holding and could feel her face redden.

“I-I… well… Icy is…” She stammered, looking down at her sign just to avoid Gelatin’s curious gaze. She ended up looking at one of her own drawings of herself and Ice Cube, a pink heart in between the both of them.

Blushing harder, Bracelety turned the sign over to its blank side.

“I love Icy… but in a fan way! I-I… I swear!”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than me,” Gelatin pointed out and crossed his arms, “be honest with yourself.”

“W… Well…” Bracelety mumbled quietly.

Bracelety couldn’t help but sometimes daydream of fake scenarios of Ice Cube noticing her, talking with her, hanging out with her, and…

She’d deny it if you asked her, but she has thought about Ice Cube kissing her. How soft were her lips? What did she taste like? Would she melt from how intimate it would be? Bracelety was curious, to say the least.

“... maybe I do like Icy like that…” She mumbled, more to herself than to Gelatin.

“Then, I think you should go for it! Ask her out on a date, get to know each other a bit more.”

Bracelety tilted her head in confusion, “Oh, but I already know everything about Icy!”

“But does she know just as much about you?” Gelatin asked, crossing his arms, “Plus… there may be things you didn’t know about her that she’d only tell someone intimate with her.”

“Hm…” Bracelety frowned, fiddling with her hands nervously, “what if she says no?”

“I’m sure she’ll give you a chance! I’m sure she’d even appreciate being able to talk to you more casually.”

“I’m still not sure…” She mumbled, her face felt the warmest she had ever felt.

She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to function properly if she was on a date with her idol. What if she messed up? What if she said something wrong? What if Ice Cube started to hate her? Bracelety didn’t know if she’d be able to cope with her favourite person hating her.

Suddenly, a third voice joined the conversation.

“I think you should go for it.”

Bracelety turned to see Donut standing behind the two of them, hands on his hips.

“W… Were you listening?” Bracelety asked, her face would have grown red from embarrassment if she wasn’t already scarlet.

“I didn’t mean to intrude, but I kinda guessed what you two were talking about. Gelatin mentioned planning to talk to you about your Ice Cube obsession,” Donut admitted.

Bracelety nodded and sighed quietly to herself.

“I’ve never had to worry about rejection before.”

Donut cast a glance over at Gelatin before looking back at Bracelety. He gave her a reassuring smile.

“You’ll never know if you don’t go for it.”

“Yeah!” Gelatin beamed, “if you’re nervous about asking her in person, why not send her a letter?”

“Huh. Gelatin having good ideas?” Donut chuckled, “Either way, if you need reassuring, Barf Bag and I are willing to help. And probably the rest of Team Ice Cube, too.”

Bracelety nodded and stared back down at her sign in thought.

“Thank you…”

The sound of rustling grass indicated Donut’s departure. Bracelety looked back at Gelatin, who stood up with a determined look on his face.

“I’ll go grab some paper and writing supplies, I’ll be back!” He announced before running off, leaving Bracelety and her sign.

She was really nervous. Bracelety had pretty much based her whole life around Ice Cube when she first saw her. It filled the gaping hole in her identity, and gave her reason to be someone.

Yet… she was unsure if she could still be a fan knowing that Ice Cube would hate her. The looks Ice Cube would give her would be too much for Bracelety’s confidence.

She likes whatever Ice Cube likes.

So would she hate what Ice Cube hates, too?

Bracelety tried to think of something, anything else, but her thoughts always focused on Ice Cube. If it wasn’t her, then what else would she think about? Herself? But, who was ‘Bracelety’ anyway?

“Hey, I’m back! … Bracelety?”

Bracelety quickly wiped away the tears that were starting to form and looked back at Gelatin, who stood there, pen and paper in hand.

“... You okay?” He asked and sat back down on the grass. Bracelety quickly glanced away.

“Yeah…” She mumbled.

“You sure don’t sound it,” Gelatin spoke, his voice unusually soft, “is something on your mind? Is it about asking Icy on a date?”

“... Kinda,” Bracelety sighed and glanced back at him, “... more on the identity issues side. I don’t know who I am without Icy…”

“Hm… then maybe you could find out when you get to know Ice Cube more?” Gelatin suggested.

“What do you mean?...”

“Like… the more you find out about Icy, especially the little things, the more you’ll have an opinion and find out differences between both of you.”

“I… never really thought about it like that,” Bracelety admitted and gratefully accepted when Gelatin handed her the pen and paper.

“Maybe you’ll learn that you like something Ice Cube doesn’t, and vice versa. In a way, the more you get closer to her, the more you’ll be able to stand on your own. Does that make sense?” Gelatin asked and laughed nervously.

Bracelety smiled and nodded, placing the paper on the cardboard sign so that writing on it would be easier, “I think so… Icy is like… a way of projection to fill what I thought was missing. But maybe… she can also help me find it!”

Gelatin stood up, and grinned, “Exactly! I’ll leave you to it. Good luck!”

Bracelety waved Gelatin goodbye before she picked up the pen, a new confidence now instilled in her.

Although she wasn’t too sure how this would go, she had hope.

“... I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this happy, and that is saying something.”

“I take it went well, then?” Barf Bag asked as she approached Donut and Gelatin, who were watching Bracelety and Ice Cube in the distance.

“I think she was a bit nervous at first, she practically shoved the letter in her face and stood around embarrassed for a bit as Ice Cube read it… but it looks like she said yes,” Donut replied and smiled.

“That’s good. I’m hoping it works out for her.”

“I think it will - Ice Cube looks pretty happy too!” Gelatin beamed, “... Hopefully Bracelety won’t stop hanging out with us, too.”

“She can bring Ice Cube with her,” Barf Bag laughed, “It’ll be like a family meeting.”

Chapter Text

“Optimism, Pessimism and Realism.”

“For the last time, I’m not helping out. Get out of my room and leave me alone.”

“Aw, c’mon, PJ! It won’t take long, plus, you wouldn’t want SKey on your case again, would you?”

Pickle Jar sighed and mumbled something under his breath. Winey peaked around his shoulder inquisitively.

“Look at it this way - at least it’ll be clean quicker with two of us on cleaning duty!” Ze beamed.

“Ugh, your optimism is so sappy I feel somehow even less motivated,” Pickle Jar grumbled and turned around to look at her.

“I can’t help being half-full all the time, mentally and literally!” Winey placed zer hands on zer hips proudly.

Pickle Jar rolled his eyes, “You’re half-empty, though, literally and apparently in your head, too.”

“I thought as a fellow drink, you’d understand. Half-full is the right answer.”

The sound of footsteps caught the attention of the two objects. The two of them looked to the doorway to see Phone. He stood in the door frame, his usual deadpan expression on his face.

“... I’m just gonna gloss over what you called me,” Pickle Jar spoke before turning to Phone, “Phone, solve this for us - I can’t be bothered arguing over something this pointless. Is Winey half-full or half-empty?”

As the two other objects waited, Phone stared idly for a moment before responding.

“Winey is half-full and half-empty.”

———————————

“An Anxious Storm.”

The soft tapping of the rain hitting the window soothed Chocolatey, who sat just in front of the window, looking outside.

Occasionally, thunder and lightning occurred. Chocolatey thought it was pretty, seeing the weather like this. He gazed wistfully at the dark grey clouds above, where blue skies used to be now stood walls of melancholic grey. It thought it had a special beauty to it, however, and enjoyed storming nights like this one.

“Hm…?”

Tickety almost passed by the room, until he noticed Chocolatey staring out of the window. They retraced their steps before taking a step into the room.

“Yo. Everything good?” Tickety asked, mostly to announce his presence as he looked at them.

Chocolatey turned around to meet Tickety’s gaze. He thought for a moment for a response before simply nodding.

“... Yeah.”

Tickety approached Chocolatey before standing just in front of it.

“You sure? Wasn’t too sure if you would find this weather alarming,” Tickety spoke, repositioning themselves to lean against the wall.

“No, I think it’s pretty calming, actually…”

“Suit yourself. I just didn’t expect you to be the type to enjoy bad weather.” Tickety glanced at them, who were still looking outside the window.

“When everything around you makes you anxious… I guess you start to appreciate things others don’t,” Chocolatey mumbled.

“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

Chocolatey looked over at Tickety and gave him a small smile.

“Yeah… thank you.”

———————————

“Experiments Usually Run Smooth When They Aren’t On Coin Roll.”

“Can you just sit still for a minute?”

Coin Roll quickly stopped her fidgeting as Flask stomped past her. It was just the two of them down in Flask’s lab - Mantle was hanging out with others for once, so it was just Coin Roll and Flask.

And Flask, to say the very least, was starting to get agitated. They had asked many objects in the building for assistance on a new experiment, yet no one but Coin Roll even considered it.

So now they were being subjected to Coin Roll’s boisterous behaviours. From awful jokes to small verbal ‘pranks’, Flask had heard it all in the span of twenty minutes.

“Ooh, ooh! What does that thing do over there?!”

And the questions.

It was as if Coin Roll had enhanced observation skills - and not in a good way, as they were constantly asking about tools and equipment around the lab.

Flask took a deep breath and grabbed a clipboard and a pen.

Focus, Flask. Don’t let this fool crack your composure, They told themselves, once this is done, you’ll be free from this torment.

Coin Roll swung her legs underneath the chair, still waiting for an answer.

“Stop with the questions, it’s starting to get agitating,” Flask grumbled as they placed the clipboard and pen on the small table next to them.

“You’re overreacting!” Coin Roll laughed, a huge grin on her face.

“And stop with these vile jokes, too.”

“Don’t you mean vial?” Coin Roll asked, motioning to the vial rack in the centre of one of the desks.

Flask sighed. This was going to be a long day.

———————————

“You Want To Argue? I’m Sure It’ll Be Easy For You.”

Gavel was annoyed - as usual - and wanted to take let out some steam by arguing with someone. Maybe it was silly, but the feeling of pride and accomplishment upon winning an argument was one of the best feelings to him.

He looked around, trying to see if there was anyone who would be compliant to his arguing. The trouble was, that some objects wouldn’t react well to how passionate he could be. Of course, that didn’t mean he never argued with them, but usually kept it down to when it was needed. Objects like Chocolatey and Lip Balm always ended up making him feel worse, even if he was winning.

Other objects were just downright impractical to argue with one way or another.

Tickety won’t care.

Winey is either too optimistic or too oblivious in arguments.

Phone… is even more impossible to argue with.

Gavel sighed. Looking around, he spotted one particular object by themselves.

Lamp leant against the wall, idly watching others as she crossed her arms. She appeared to be in deep thought about something.

Gavel approached her, stopping next to the taller object. Upon noticing him in her peripheral vision, Lamp turned to look at him.

“Can I help you?” Lamp asked, her smug disposition returning.

“Uh, yeah, you can. Tell me what you were doing,” Gavel grumbled.

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today? Why should I tell you? Last time I checked, it wasn’t a crime to stand here.”

Gavel rolled his eyes, “Sorry for being curious. You’re awfully defensive for someone who was just standing around.”

“So? Maybe I was just confused why you would ask something like that randomly.”

“If that was the case, you wouldn’t have said ‘maybe’.”

“What are you, a lawyer or something? Get off my case.”

“Well, actually-”

“It was sarcasm.”

Gavel grumbled and turned around, unable to deal with the wall of sarcasm that was Lamp, “You’re impossible, too.”

“You’re very welcome!” Lamp called as Gavel walked away, feeling more frustrated than ever.

Chapter Text

Wri“Ugh… we’ve been searching ██████ for so long now!” Rockety whined as she walked down the dungeon alongside Mp3y, “... I’m starting to get hungry.”

“... Already? We had those rations, what, half an hour ago?” Mp3y raised an eyebrow.

“Only a little hungry!” Rockety replied defensively, “Plus, those rations barely tasted anything. I want flavour! Pizazz! Something that doesn’t taste like prison food!”

“And… how do you know what that tastes like?” Mp3y asked, starting to get a little confused.

Rockety promptly ignored them, and stopped by a wall that had strange carvings on it.

“Hmm… uh-huh…” Rockety mumbled to herself as she studied the wall. Mp3y walked behind her and looked at the wall as well.

“Can you read it?”

“... Nope!” Rockety beamed, “But… I assume it must mean that there’s something in the next room!”

“What gave you that idea?” Mp3y asked.

“... The big arrow pointing to the room?”

Mp3y looked once more, and sure enough, a big red arrow pointing to the doorway of the closest room connected to the passage of ancient text.

“Oh. Well, let’s go. There might be something good in there.”

“Ooh! Like food maybe!” Rockety quickly rushed ahead, Mp3y having to speed up to a run to catch up with her.

Upon entering the room, Mp3y immediately noticed how off this room felt compared to the rest of the dungeon, although the walls still remained as warm and damaged as everywhere else, the structure of the room was more akin to a… food-court? The walls protruded outwards and were carved to create stall-like structures on both sides, equipped with doors, signs and other equipment that looked out of place.

“Uh….”

“Oh! I just checked the map, this is a food-court!” Rockety beamed and eagerly looked left and right at all the different stalls selling all sorts of food. Behind the counter stood objects seemingly identical to each other, all standing idly.

Mp3y approached one of the stands, squinting to read the sloppily written signs.

“Huh. This one sells ice cream. You said you weren’t that hungry, right? Would ice cream do the trick?” Mp3y asked and looked over at Rockety, who was at the stall next to them.

“I mean, yeah… but some flavours of ice cream are just too sweet!” She huffed.

“You know, there are other flavours apart from strawberry, you know that right?”

“Some are just as sweet - or even more! It hurts my teeth.”

Mp3y crossed their arms in thought.

“I mean, it’s ice cream, so it’s bound to be sweet, but are there any flavours you do like?” They asked and watched Rockety as she stared at the menu.

“... Chocolate would work!”

“Alright. Anything else you want on it or anything?” They asked. Rockety looked back at them and huffed playfully.

“No toppings! But can you get it in a tub? Unless I eat it in one go, it’ll be hard for me to hold it!”

“I don’t doubt that you could eat it in one go,” They laughed and smiled at the smaller object who pouted.

“It makes the brain freeze worse! Do you know how many ice cream places lack the tubs?! It’s a lot!” She exclaimed.

“Maybe you should start asking before you order.”

“I’ll have you know-”

A monotone voice interrupted the two other objects.

“Are you going to order, or what?”

“Oh, sorry!” Mp3y quickly apologised, turning to the object behind the stall. Normally, they would be offended by the tone of voice, but it was a food service worker - so they thought it was totally reasonable.

“Chocolate! No toppings! In a tub!” Rockety chanted. Apparently she didn’t have the same amount of respect for food service workers as they did.

“And one neapolitan scoop in a cone, please,” Mp3y added, directly looking at Rockety at the last part. She didn’t appear to get the memo.

The worker just nodded and began to work on their order. Rockety promptly sat down on the cold floor. Mpy3 didn’t understand why - there were many empty chairs littered around the room - but decided not to mention it. Not wanting to seem awkward, they sat down next to her.

“So… do you think we’ll get to the prize first?” They asked.

“Maybe! It’s already been quite the adventure so far,” She responded and smiled.

“True. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take this time to chill.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Rockety beamed and stretched out her legs.

After a minute of sitting around and idle chatter, a voice interrupted the two once more.

“Hello?”

Mp3y quickly stood up and looked over at the worker, who stared back with an unamused expression. A tub of chocolate ice cream with a plastic spoon sticking out of the top was placed next to a cone of neapolitan ice cream, placed upright in a cone holder. The worker picked up the cone and handed it over to Mp3y.

“Oh! Thank you,” They spoke and took the ice cream cone. With their other hand, they picked up the tub. In their peripheral vision, they saw Rockety stand up next to them. The worker raised an eyebrow and crossed their arms expectantly.

“Oh.”

Mp3y quickly turned to Rockety.

“You don’t… happen to have money on you?” They asked, half-whispering.

“Uhh…” She looked back at them, before bolting as fast as she could.

“Run for it! I’m not going back to jail!” She yelled, Mp3y stood there in shock for a moment.

Before they too, ran to catch up with the object once more.