Red Reflections

by KylerArts

Summary:

The Smiling Critters cartoon has long since ended. The Critters have grown up without realizing the strangeness of their cartoon world, or why it seems like reality warps to its own whim as their lives go on far past where they were meant to cease in the show.
They all begin to have nightmares of a factory, large, sprawling and bloody, yet these nightmares are fragmented and hard to understand. That is until one fateful month when it all comes to a head.

Within the month that they're all in college, away from the valley, in a city never meant to exist in their world, suddenly, these nightmares don't feel so dreamlike anymore.

Faced with ragged and beaten reflections of themselves, how will they cope with staring their worst traits in the eye? Will they have the chance to before the mirror comes crashing down around them?

OR;

The Cartoon Critters must juggle college life, relationships, and the memories/lives of their alternate selves. Oh, and look! Dad’s Home!

Notes:

So Heads Up, This Is Structured Like A Visual Novel Meant To Run On/Transfer Easier To RenPy (Because It IS), So Sorry If It Gets Confusing, Or If The Script Esc Structure Makes Listening To This Through TTS Sound Like A Teacher With Dementia Doing Roll Call.

Aaaanyway, Here Is The Fanfic/Ao3 Version Of "Red Reflections", And My Break From Another Project Stuck In Art Block HELL Right Now.

This Is Fully Meant To Be Me Indulging In Hyperfixation On Chapter 3 And The Other Fantastic Smiling Critter Fics (Which I Have Read A LOT Of, I Know Who You Are >:3), So Hopefully My Writing Style I Mainly Use For My Visual Novel Translates Well Here. I'm Trying To Write Normally For A WIP "Mau Makan Apa?" Fanfic, But Fuck If It Doesn't Feel Ass-Backwards Coming Off A Python Hellscape Like RenPy.

So Here We Are. If I Fucked Up Tags, Then So Help Me Jebus, I'll... Go Fix Them I Guess.

Enjoy ^w^

(P.S: This Shit Ain't Beta Read Cause I Have No Beta Readers, So God Help Me, It Gon Be F u n k y.)

Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: “The Most Important Friendgroup Reality Will Ever Know: Part 1”

Summary:

A look into the past, and the historic meeting between the two that would form the greatest friendgroup their world would ever know.

Notes:

Soooo The Intermissions Turned Into Prologues, And The Days Turned Into Chapters And I Cant Believe I Was So Set On The Weird Layout I had Before. I'm Just Gonna Do What Feels Right Instead. Sorry For The Confusion, And Those Looking For New Content For RR, I Plan To Post Some New Chapters Shortly After I Finish Updating The Fic In General. So Like... Today

Anyway, I Really Liked The Idea Of The Smiling Critters Starting As A Trio (You'll See The Third Soon Enough), And Slowly Growing As They Make More Friends; From Social Outcasts Like Bubba, To Street Scraps Like Nap And Crafty. I Hope You're Excited To See How They All Met, And Why.

That's All For Me For Now (Aside From Coming Back To Fix Mistakes I May Have Missed.)

Hope You Enjoy! ^w^

Kyler: Kyler Here!

 

Kyler: As A Gift To You Fic Readers, Here Are The Sprites I Designed For The Visual Novel Version Of This Story, So You Can Get A Better Idea Of What The Critters Look Like! (And Also Their Names, Cause Coming Up With Them Was Fun)

 

Kyler: More To Come As I Work On Them!

 

.

 

CARTOON CRITTERS

Samuel Helios, Lee-Day “DogDay”

 

Theodore Selene, Nap “Theo/CatNap”

 

Kick Aries, Chicken “Kicken/K.C”

 

Bubba Edison, Bubbaphant “Bubs”

 

Hoppy Ann, Hopscotch “Hops”

 

Bobby Louise, Bearhug “Bobs”

 

Pick Eastwood, Piggy “Picky”

 

Carmen di ser Piero, Corn “Crafty/Craf”

Bailey Lambert, Chops “Baba/Babs”

 

Simon Edgar,  Smoke "Simone/Hotshot"

 

Brittany Elizabeth, Cosgrove “Rabie Baby/Rabe”

 

Maggie Finnigan, Machintire "Mako/Machs"

 

Touille Remington, Machintire “Tool/Toots”

 

Allister Montimer, Gator "Al/Alli"

 

FACTORY CRITTERS (CONTENT WARNING: Gore/Implied Self-Harm)

 

Exp. 1186 - “Bobby Bearhug” - Elizabeth Rose

 

Exp. 1187 - “Bubba Bubbaphant” - Oliver Raymond

 

Exp. 1188 - “CatNap” - Theodore Grambell

 

Exp. 1189 - “CraftyCorn” - Carmen Tores

 

Exp. 1190 - “Hoppy Hopscotch” - Jasmine Rylands

 

Exp. 1191 - “PickyPiggy” - Jennifer Armstrong 

 

Exp. 1192 - “Kicken Chicken” - Cameron Quinn

 

Exp. 1193 - “Everyman Angel” - Dr. Angel P. Waltz

 

Exp. 1195 - “DogDay” - Samuel Lee 

 

Kyler: And Now To The Goobs Themselves!

 

.

 

A young rooster stands alone in the playground, wasting away as he watches the other kids play.

 

It just so happens that today is his first day at this school after being homeschooled for around two years, and he's trying really hard not to think about it.

 

He was scared to go to a public school. 

 

He was scared to be in public in the first place.

 

But the thing he was most scared of was the other kids.

 

He knew he couldn't make friends with any of them.

 

They made their friend groups years ago, and he doesn't know the first thing about being around so many people.

 

Being seen.

 

And they'd think he's weird, wouldn't they?

 

He's so behind on what's cool and what everyone wants to talk about.

 

So he passes time alone, kicking around a rock from talon to talon.

 

Right, left, right, left…

 

Right, left- up!

 

Ha! Didn't expect that, didja rock?

 

Well get ready, cause now it's…

 

Right, left, right, up- down!

 

Speechless huh? I get it.

 

Everyone acts like that around me.

 

Cause of my Mega Coolness!

 

Cameron: Hiiiiyah!

 

He kicks the rock and it goes bouncing off the base of the climbing wall.

 

Ow… That kinda hurt my toe.

 

Samuel: Hey!

 

Cameron: Waaah!!!

 

Suddenly, an orange dog pops out from the side of the wall, causing the bird to fall backwards off the wooden fence in surprise.

 

He groans as the blurry form of the dog hovers above him.

 

As his vision clears, he sees the canine sporting a look of confusion and worry, but before the rooster could yell at him for scaring him so bad, he's caught off guard by his eyes.

 

Like most critters, his pupils are unique to him, but what surprised the bird is how cool they are!

 

They're shaped just like the sun, which was blaring into his eyes before the dog came to check on him, but they don't hurt to look at like the sun does.

 

They're just bright and warm and make him wanna run around all over the place!

 

The rooster can't take his eyes off them as the dog helps him stand

 

Cameron: Wooooah, your eyes are so cool!

 

Samuel: Thanks! What are you doing alone all the way over here?

 

The sudden intrusive question make his feathers ruffle a bit.

 

Cameron: Uh, I'm not alone! I'm with my friend!

 

Samuel: Oh!

 

The spaniel looks around before landing back on the increasingly nervous looking bird.

 

Samuel: Where are they?

 

The bird, desperate to hold up his lie, stutters as he points at the only thing he could think of.

 

Cameron: Whaddyou mean! He's right there!

 

Samuel: The rock?

 

The rooster clicked his beak which the dog tilts his head at. He's never talked to a bird before.

 

Cameron: Wha- It's not just a rock!

 

Samuel: It isn't?

 

Cameron: No, no, it's a boulder!

 

Cameron: MY boulder!

 

He snatches the rock up.

 

Samuel: I thought boulders were supposed to be big?

 

Cameron: Don't be mean! He's trying his best!

 

Samuel: Oh, sorry, uh…

 

Samuel: What's your name anyway?

 

Cameron: Cameron.

 

Samuel: No, the rock- uh, boulder!

 

Cameron: Oh, uh… R- Rock-o…

 

Samuel: …

 

Samuel: Nice to meet you Rocco!

 

The dog shakes the invisible hand of the rock, and Cameron starts to feel left out.

 

Cameron: Hey! It isn't nice to meet me!?

 

Samuel: Oh, yeah! Of course it is!

 

Samuel: You said my eyes were cool!

 

Cameron: That's cause they are! They're like the sun!

 

Samuel: But, yours are too…

 

The dog points right at Cameron's face, which just confuses him.

 

Cameron: Nuh-uh! Mine are stars! They're the thingies in the sky that only come out at night!

 

Samuel: Well, my mama said all stars are just little sun's that are reeeeally far away.

 

Samuel: She says I'm one of them, which is why mama and papa call me son!

 

The dog perks up, tail wagging.

 

Cameron: Huh? Mine do too.

 

Samuel: Cool! Well, it's nice to meet a fellow sun, Cameron!

 

He puts his hand out to shake.

 

Cameron can hardly believe he was offered a handshake, even after complaining about not getting one.

 

This is what friends do when they first meet, yeah? That's what mom said to do.

 

Cameron: N-Nice to meet you too, D-Dog Dude.

 

He holds his wing out nervously, which the dog eagerly shakes.

 

Samuel: My name is Sam, but you can call me DogDude if you wanna.

 

Whatever that means.

 

Confused, the dog looks down at the wing he's shaking.

 

It isn't exactly shaped in a way he can hold, so hopefully he's shaking it right.

 

Samuel: Your paws are weird!

 

Cameron suddenly jolts back, hiding his wings beneath him.

 

Samuel: Hey, it's not a bad thing! It's just super interesting! I've never met a bird before!

 

Cameron: O-oh…

 

He unhides them, letting Sam poke and prod, finding where his wing ends and feathers begin.

 

Samuel: Weeeeird. I like the color yellow!

 

Samuel: Is this why you're alone? Do people make fun of them?

 

Cameron: No, I just… I just don't like the others.

 

Cameron: I'm scared they'll make fun of me because I don't know how to make friends.

 

Samuel: What do you mean? You did awesome just a couple seconds ago.

 

Cameron is stunned for a moment, looking at Sam with a mix of suprise and that expression someone makes when they're really trying not to cry.

 

It's that easy? R-really?

 

I didn't even know I was making a friend in the first place!

 

Cam doesn't respond, so Sam just keeps talking, unbenounced to how revolutionary this was for the poor bird.

 

Samuel: I don't really talk to the other kids either. They always complain that I have too much energy.

 

Samuel: Mama just says it's because I'm fuled by the sun itself! Nothing can bring me down!

 

Samuel: But the others aren't as lucky as we are.

 

Sam looks back at the groups of kids playing on the playground, almost in pity. 

 

Cameron: Huh? Whaddya mean?

 

Samuel: You’re fueled by the sun too right? We can be like superheros!

 

Did he just say… superheroes?

 

Superheroes are like, your favorite thing!!!

 

You thought people would think you were weird for liking them, but Sam likes them too!?

 

Cameron: Yeah, yeah! We can be a duo!

 

Cameron jumps on the spot, shaking Sam by the shoulders.

 

The dog is caught off guard for a moment, but really likes seeing how happy Cam is.

 

Cameron: And we can make nicknames, a-and costumes!

 

Samuel: Nicknames?

 

Cameron: Yeah, like secret identities so the evil dudes don't know who we are and hurt us!

 

Sam suddenly blaunches; a scared expression Cameron didn't expect from the usually cheerful dog.

 

Samuel: What!? There’s no way I'll let someone hurt us!

 

He's taken aback by the genuine worry and anger in Samuel's voice, but plays it off to try and help.

 

Cameron: Don't worry! That’s what the nicknames are for!

 

Cameron: And besiiiides , Hero’s need to be brave!

 

Samuel: O-ok! My name will be… uh… how do I make a name?

 

Oh boy.

 

Cameron thought he'd be scared when it came to talking about this stuff, but he's actually getting really excited.

 

It's cool to be the person telling the others how to do something.

 

Cameron: It usually has to do with your superpower!

 

Samuel: My power?

 

Cameron: Yeah, you’re powered by the sun right?

 

Cameron: How abouuuut… Duh- Day…

 

Cameron: Sun…

 

Samuel: Daylight!

 

Cameron: No no no, it's gotta be cool! Otherwise the villains won't be scared of you! You gotta make them afraid of doing bad stuff!

 

Samuel: Ohhhh.

 

Cameron: How about… DogDay!

 

Cameron: Dogs can be intimidating, and you have the powers of the sun itself!

 

Samuel: Cooool!

 

Cameron: Ok ok, now me!

 

Excited, he bounces up and down on his talons as the newly named DogDay deliberated his partners own name.

 

Samuel: Huh. Well I already have “Day” In mine, soooo…

 

Samuel: What else can you do? Like your powers I mean?

 

Cameron: Uh..?

 

Cam clicks his beak nervously.

 

He doesn't really do much other than watch cartoons and play games.

 

That and… well no, watching cartoons and playing games is all he really does.

 

He's too nervous to go out and try something new, especially outside where other people could see him fail.

 

Samuel: Kick! Kick- uhh…

 

Samuel: KickingChicken!

 

Cameron: Huh!?

 

Samuel: Like the rock you were kicking around earlier!

 

Cameron: Boulder! A-and his name is Rocco!

 

He leers at Sam, hugging precious Rocco close to protect his fragile feelings.

 

Samuel: Exactly! Boulders are huge and you kicked it so far it hit the climbing wall!

 

Cameron: Y-yeah, I guess I did.

 

Seeing how far it was, he is a bit proud at being able to launch it all that distance.

 

But one thing catches his attention before it can escape from his hyperactive mind.

 

Cameron: Wait; Kickin “Chicken?”

 

Samuel: Yeah!

 

Cameron: Dude… I'm not a chicken.

 

Samuel: Huh? I thought all birds were chickens!

 

Cameron: Nuh uh, just the girls!

 

Samuel: So, what are you then?

 

Cameron: I’m… uh…

 

Oh no…

 

Think Cam, think!

 

There's no way you can let him know you don't even remember what kind of bird you are!

 

Using all his braincells together, he manages to pinpoint that one word he'd heard his mom say when talking about his cousins and how they're all siblings.

 

Cameron: R-rooster! That's it!

 

Samuel: Oh! So “KickenRooster?”

 

Cameron: Yep.

 

…

 

Cameron: No wait, that sounds stupid!

 

Sam tries not to giggle at how grumpy the bird is.

 

It kinda reminds him of a cartoon, the way his feathers ruffle up and he clicks his beak.

 

He looks like a big fluffy pillow, but made of feathers!

 

Samuel: Then KickenChicken it is!

 

Cameron: Ugh, fine!

 

Satisfied, Sam climbs the climbing wall, raising his paws and looking down on the playground, facing Cameron.

 

Samuel: We're DogDay and KickenChicken!

 

Cameron: Yeah!

 

Samuel: And Rocco!

 

Cameron: Yeah!

 

Cam raises Rocco high.

 

Samuel: And we’ll be the best heroes the valley has ever seen!!!

 

Cameron: YEAH!!!

 

Samuel: Now let's go save people!

 

Cameron: Yeeeeaaaahhhh!!!

 

The two run amok the rest of the day, and for that matter, the rest of the school year.

 

If asked about the two, the teachers would call them nothing less than inseparable, and while they cause quite the havoc on a day to day basis, they surprisingly do more good than most.

 

They help students, hell, they help teachers too.

 

It’s usually Samuel's doing as he has an unnatural ability to see past even the adults masks.

 

But one thing the teachers will correct you on is calling them a duo .

 

While it was just them for a month or two, DogDay and Kicken wouldn't be complete without their third, equally as important member.

 

And no, they don't mean Cameron's pet rock.

 

.

Notes:

>_>

So...

How Was It?

Did You Enjoy? Are You Enjoying? Are You An Enjoyer?

...

 

u better be... >:3

 

Anyway, I'll Be Doing These Every Now And Then, And There Will Hopefully Be 5 Parts To Intermission 1, Covering The Origins Of All The Smiling Critters. I Also Have Plans For Another Set Of Intermissions As Well, So I Hop You Look Forward To Those, As Well As The Days Proceeding Them.

Cya Round!

Chapter 2: PROLOGUE: “The Most Important Friendgroup Reality Will Ever Know: Part 2”

Summary:

A Young Elizabeth Rose meets a homeless Carmen Tores. The two become fast friends until they're found out. Now she has to find her.

Notes:

The Introduction To The Final Member Of The First Wave Of The Smiling Critters! I Like How These Are Coming Along Even If They Only Exist Because Of The Main Story. Think Of ItAs A Way The Universe Is Coping With Not Having Proper Backstories For The Critters. The Critters Ask Who They Are And The Universe Has To Give An Answer, Right? So These Are The Answer.

These Are Also A Way To Show That These Characters Full Names Have Started To Be Retconned In A Way Because Of The Two Universes Reflecting.

Anyway, That's Enough Yapping. Enjoy! ^w^

Two girls sit alone in their class, the rest of the kids shouting and playing just outside the windows.

 

But the class, in comparison, is silent, save for the soft scratches of pencil on paper and a hairbrush.

 

Carmen; A rather dirty unicorn (not that she noticed it that much), sat still as she drew her new friend, one which was kind enough to offer to brush her hair, which had been matted and dirty from living so long without a home.

 

Carmen didn't mind her life, honestly.

 

Though food was hard to come by sometimes, she got by, but it always seemed like others saw her simple life as something horrible.

 

But she was ok! Her Mère raised her to be strong because she couldn't protect Carmen from her comfy bed, and when she stopped moving one day, Carmen listened to what she told her in case that were to happen.

 

“I have a curse, Carmen.”

 

“Like one of my magic tales?” The girl had asked.

 

“Yes, just like that. But one day I'll fall asleep.”

 

“I'll sleep so deeply that I won't even be able to move anymore.”

 

“I already feel tired, but once the day comes when you shake me and I don't wake up, you'll need to… go out on a quest.”

 

Carmen was excited at the thought of going on a quest just like in her storybooks.

 

“When your Père gave you to me, I took a magical vow .”

 

Carmen's eyes sparkled.

 

“A vow that that links me to you and as such, I feel when you're happy, and when you’re sad.

 

“It’s so whenever you’re scared or have nightmares, I'll be there for you.”

 

“But the vow works both ways. When I fall asleep, when I… stop moving, I want you to leave our home before those men come to take you away again. You remember them?”

 

She nods, the girl shivering at the memory of being taken to her Père’s house for some reason, arguments she couldn't understand at the time echoing through the big empty place.

 

“I need you to leave and keep yourself happy.”

 

“Keep yourself fed and healthy, and soon, maybe I'll be able to wake up, but you have to promise me one thing, ok Carmie?”

 

The girl nods, willing to do anything for her Mère.

 

“Don't come back until you’re absolutely sure I’ll wake up.”

 

“I'll be very vulnerable, and if you come back too early, I may be asleep forever.”

 

Carmen remembered how scared she was hearing those words, and Mère told her she could feel it.

 

That it was ok. That she believes in her.

 

Carmen knew she had to do it.

 

Soon, Mère waved her off so she could sleep, Carmen bouncing out of the room excitedly.

 

She makes sure to hop over the tube that connected Mère to her machine in the back of the room.

 

Since then, Mère fell asleep like she said she would, and Carmen began her quest.

 

It's been hard, but she knew it would be.

 

“Nothing good is gained without hardship. That’s what makes a good story.” Mère always said.

 

She's met a lot of people on her quest. Some like Mère, but some more like Père.

 

The kind ones took her in for a bit and gave her food and water.

 

She was thankful for them all, knowing her happiness made Mère happy too, but she knew what would happen if she stayed too long.

 

Those men would come looking, and she'd have to run.

 

Some of those who took her in even tried to fight the men off, but the men could put them to sleep just like Mère was.

 

It was just more… loud.

 

She figured they were the villains. She had to stop them, and free everyone who'd helped her.

 

So she ran.

 

And lived.

 

Until today, when she met Elizabeth!

 

Carmen had found a home that had a loooot of kids like her!

 

Some places she'd stayed had kids too, some who said they were gonna be her brothers or sisters, but most of the time she had to leave them behind when the men came.

 

Or… they got separated when running from them together.

 

She pushes down a rather painful memory of her running from those men with her new brother Two- Tool-... she could never say his name right.

 

She really liked him too.

 

He was smart and talkative, and he always said how nice it was that she listened to him.

 

But the men put his parents to sleep too, and she hadn't seen him since they got separated.

 

Elizabeth: Are you ok?

 

The bear looked down at her new friend with worry.

 

She was shaking.

 

Elizabeth: Sorry, am I brushing too hard? 

 

Carmen shook her head.

 

Carmen: I’m ok. Thank you again f-for…

 

Despite how excited Carmen can be on the inside, she always found herself falling short when it came to interacting with… well, anybody besides Mère.

 

She found it easier to stay quiet. Unnoticed. Safe in a way that people could get lost in their anger instead of…

 

Elizabeth takes her silence as time to speak.

 

Elizabeth: Of course! Your hair looked like it needed some love! You should take better care of it though.

 

Elizabeth: You have a lot of knots in your hair, so they're hard to get out.

 

Before Carmen could apologize for the tenth time today, the bear hugs her from behind.

 

This is the 16th time Carmen’s been hugged by her, and she feels like she's being spoiled.

 

However, she can't help but be thankful.

 

Elizabeth continues to brush the unicorn's hair before putting the brush down and taking out a bobby pin from her bag to hold Carmen's hair up.

 

As she styles it, she looks down at what her friend had been drawing, only to find one of the best pieces of art she's ever seen.

 

It was her and Carmen, dressed up like fantasy characters on a quest, a sleeping figure in the background as you and her readied your staff and wand respectively to fight some shadow of a big beast.

 

Elizabeth was astounded by all the small details from her own poofy hairstyle, to the fancy magic clothes and potion belt.

 

She got both of the girls pupils just right, and Carmen even looked to have a little rat friend poking out from her wizard's hat!

 

Past all that, Liz was surprised that Carmen didn't draw stick figures, and instead drew them both tall like adults.

 

Elizabeth: Carmen! That looks amazing!

 

Carmen: T-Thanks... It's us.

 

Liz could see the blush on her white fur from miles away. 

 

Elizabeth: I know, you drew me so beautifully, and you look so amazing with those wizard clothes!

 

Carmen: Thank you!

 

Elizabeth went on to ask about the drawing more, complimenting and hugging Carmen as she told her about how she's on a magic quest.

 

It'd take a long time for Elizabeth to realize just how indicative of reality this quest was, but for now, the two kids enjoyed the rest of recess with each other, Carmen thanking and complimenting Liz for her new hairstyle, which nets her about eight more hugs from the bear.

 

Carmen had not felt so physically cared for since her Mère was cursed, and she knew she wanted to be Elizabeth's best friend right then and there.

 

Unfortunately, it'd be a few years before they'd see each other again after today.

 

Elizabeth: So the tiny rat is your brother?

 

Carmen: K-Kind of… He can just be small whenever he wants.

 

Carmen: And we weren't raised together, but I still call him my brother because he still calls me his sister.

 

Elizabeth: Aww. That makes me want siblings now too.

 

Carmen: You don't have any? How'd you learn to do people's hair so well?

 

Elizabeth: Nope, I'm an only child. I'd love to have siblings to practice with, instead of just doing my own hair all the time.

 

Carmen shuffles, a bit uncomfortably as she decides on if she wants to ask this to Elizabeth.

 

Something bad always happens to people she gets close to. She doesn't want anything bad to happen to Liz.

 

But… she cares so much about her, and Carmen doesn't want to let her go.

 

Carmen: I can be…

 

Elizabeth: What was that?

 

Carmen: N-Nothing…

 

Elizabeth hugs her, seeing how sad the unicorn is, but Carmen feels… guilty.

 

A mix of selfishness at wanting to stay with Liz, even if those men come and curse her, and the pain of being able to give her what she wants, but choosing not to, even if it's for her safety.

 

Elizabeth: Something's wrong, yeah?

 

Carmen shakes her head.

 

Elizabeth: It's ok. You can tell me! I want to help y-

 

Ms. Greyber: Liz? Why aren't you outside with-?

 

One of the teachers had walked in, staring at Carmen with a confused look.

 

Carmen’s hair looked fine, but her clothes were torn and ratty, her hoofs dirty too.

 

Ms. Greyber: Who is this, Elizabeth?

 

Elizabeth: My friend Carmen!

 

Ms. Greyber: Well… Hi Ms. Carmen.

 

She waves back nervously.

 

Based on her experiences getting food, she knows she shouldn't be here without any adults knowing.

 

Ms. Greyber: Can I ask you a few questions?

 

She nods again.

 

Ms. Greyber: Very good. Follow me please.

 

The teacher steps out the door, holding it open for Carmen.

 

But she doesn’t move.

 

She looks to Elizabeth, her fear mirrored onto her now, even if she doesn't know why her new friend is so scared.

 

She's gonna get Liz in trouble too. It’s just too risky.

 

Carmen sighs, tears in her eyes threatening to flow over… 

 

And she runs.

 

Elizabeth just sits, shocked, as her new friend moves quicker than that rabbit she always sees at recess; the fastest person she knows.

 

But instead of moving towards the door, Carmen is on top of a desk, then the counter, then out the open window.

 

Her tension high, now she starts to tear up, only gaining control over her body again once Ms. Greyber is out the door herself, probably off to inform the principal.

 

Liz runs out to the playground, chasing after the white figure as she jumps the fence so quickly that it looks like she hurt her legs.

 

Elizabeth: Carmen, wait!

 

Carmen runs away on a slight limp, looking back only for a moment to lock eyes with Elizabeth one last time.

 

Her eyes say thank you, and Elizabeth screams for her not to go.

 

But still, she does, and Liz collapses then and there into a sobbing mess on the playground.

Just minutes later she's taken to the principal's office to relive the whole thing.

 

Between sobs she explains the entire story, and the principal sends a report to the police about a homeless child in need of sanctuary.

 

Before she goes, the principal stops her at the door.

 

Elliot: Ms. Rose?

 

She turns to him.

 

Elliot: I promise you that if we find your friend, we will do all we can for her.

 

She nods, not having words to say without breaking the floodwall and crying again.

 

Gently closing the door behind her, she slowly walks back to class, trying and failing not to think of how cold and lonely Carmen must be right now.

 

Then she feels an emotion she hasn't felt much before.

 

Anger.

 

Why did Ms. Greyber have to walk in?

 

Why did she have to scare Carmen?

 

Why did Carmen's parents have to leave her on the streets like that?

 

Why was it even a problem enough to need Carmen to answer “questions?”

 

Couldn't she just… stay here?

 

With her?

 

She doesn’t know how to deal with it.

 

Her little case of bobby pins goes flying across the hall, smashing into the wall and scattering them everywhere.

 

She didn't even know when she grabbed it, probably looking at it because it reminded her of Carmen's hair

 

She looks down at the mess she's made, but doesn’t really feel anything about it.

 

She only thinks about what Carmen must be doing to survive.

 

This isn't fair.

 

DogDay: Hey, are you-?

 

Elizabeth: Ahh!

 

She stumbles in shock as a dog appears just feet away to her right.

 

Catching her breath, she recognizes him.

 

One of her classmates; Sam.

 

Which means right behind him must be-

 

Kicken: Yo, DogDay! Don’t run on all fours like that, I can't keep up!

 

A panting yellow chicken (though she thinks he may be a rooster), rounds the corner, just as she expected.

 

Samuel and Cameron.

 

Sam and Cam.

 

Or more popularly known, The superhero duo; DogDay and KickenChicken.

 

Liz is stunned to see them so close up, let alone talk to them.

 

They’re almost like celebrities because of what they do, so no student really gets close to them. They just stand back and watching in awe as they do their thing.

 

Stopping arguments and fights, getting lost balls, finding stolen school supplies and stopping bullies.

 

They're always helping people, and thus, usually spend their recess solving important mysteries and problems around school.

 

She honestly really admires them.

 

These two are like the mascots of the school. They’re never seen apart.

 

Which… makes her think of what her and Carmen could have been.

 

DogDay: What’s wrong? We saw you chasing after that horse girl earlier.

 

Kicken: Yeah we saw her hop the second fence, it was awesome!

 

Kicken: That fence is like twice our size! Why were you chasing her? Is she a villain?

 

Kicken receives a gentle nudge from DogDay, who looks nervous.

 

Elizabeth: N-no! She’s not bad!

 

DogDay: It’s ok! I didn't think that! 

 

She realizes she probably sounds a lot more defensive than she meant to.

 

DogDay: Kicken is just eager. She seemed more like she was in danger than anything.

 

DogDay: Can you tell us what happened?

 

He asks this with a desperate look in his eye.

 

Liz had heard about how they are willing to help everyone, but looking at DogDays face, she sees the truth.

 

He’s desperate to help her. Like he feels he has to fix this.

 

Like it's his job to.

 

Kicken had noticed how much stress DogDay had been under, and tried his best to get him to chill out, but one day, during his birthday party, one of his cousins had said something to him.

 

DogDay had insisted on confronting Cameron's mom after he had gotten yelled at for jumping off the trampoline and over the neighbor's fence.

 

It went about as well as his mom's lectures usually go, with her berating Cam for how much of a dangerous, horrible influence he is on others, and then backtracking to say she only yells cause she cares about his safety.

 

Sam saw the whole thing, to Cameron's embarrassment, and thought a lot of what she said was unfair.

 

Cam tried to stop him but couldn't.

 

Confused on why Day was so adamant on helping people even if it wasn't that big of a deal, Cam was told why by his cousin Poe.

 

Poe: He's a people pleaser.

 

Kicken: What's that?

 

Poe: It means he cares more about the wellbeing of others than himself.

 

Poe: Which also means he's going to do something dumb and die stupidly someday.

 

Kicken: Hey! Where did that come from! And no he won’t!

 

Poe: It came from common sense. You better keep an eye on him, or you'll both end up hurt one of these days.

 

Cam clicked his beak in anger.

 

Kicken: Don't act like I don't have his back, jerkface.

 

Poe just looked back with that usual stupid dull look he gave anyone.

 

Poe: I know you do. Just don't get pulled down to hell with him.

 

And he walked away, leaving Kick stunned, angry and honestly, a little scared.

 

Personally, Kick felt like helping Elizabeth was too dangerous.

 

Whatever was going on involved all the teachers, the principal, and a runaway girl that neither of the heroes had ever seen before.

 

Kicken was scared she may be part of some crime family, or even an actual supervillain.

 

Maybe she came to the school to plant a bomb, or put toxins in the air vents.

 

What were they supposed to do then?

 

But DogDay told him not to let the fear get a hold of him, and while Kicken was still wary of Day getting in too deep, he couldn't let him do it alone.

 

So he followed as the dog used his crazy good nose to track down the person they saw running after the horse girl.

 

And here they were, helping the girl pick up all the pins she had spilled from her bag as she told them the whole story.

 

At least he can be sure she's not evil. She literally has hearts for pupils.

 

Elizabeth: -after she got away, Ms. Greyber took me to the office to talk to the Principal.

 

DogDay: Yeah, that's the last we saw of her too. Kicken had the idea to fly after her, but his wings aren't strong enough yet.

 

Kicken: Once they are I could totally go looking for her!

 

Elizabeth: Thank you Kicken. Really.

 

Elizabeth: I know I just met her today, but she means a lot to me.

 

DogDay: No problem! We're heroes; it's what we do!

 

Kicken: I can't wait to fly! When I'm strong enough, I could even take Day with me too!

 

DogDay: You’ll need to get your license first, remember?

 

Kicken: U-uh yeah! I didn't forget that!

 

DogDay: Suuuure.

 

Day gives a knowing look to his partner.

 

DogDay: Just like you “forgot” wearing hero costumes was against school dress code, huh?

 

And Day thought he was the forgetful one.

 

Eager to change the subject, Kicken speaks up, scooping the last handful of pins back into Liz’s bag.

 

Kicken: Geez, how many bobby pins do you have!

 

Elizabeth: Oh, you know. The normal amount.

 

She rattles the case around with a smile.

 

The normal amount is like two or three, but Liz isn't immune to teasing boys for not knowing about girl things.

 

Kicken: Why does she need so many?

 

Kick whispers under his breath to Day, who just nudges him again, making Liz giggle.

 

As she puts the case away, she sees something that gives her conflicting feelings.

 

Carmen's drawing.

 

She takes it out and looks at it for a moment, happy to see her face again, but sad that it's not with it's owner.

 

Liz is glad she took the art with her as she went to the office. But she doesn't know if she can make it a day without bawling if she had this staring back at her from her bag every day.

 

No, she has to keep it. It's all she has left of her.

 

DogDay: What's that?

 

She blinks her eyes, taken from her trance as she looks at Day.

 

Elizabeth: Oh, this is what Carmen was drawing while I did her hair.

 

She shows it to the two, who's already star-shaped eyes light up even more.

 

Kicken: Wooooaaaahhhh! She can draw like Mona Lisa!

 

Elizabeth: Yeah, she's pretty artsy! She had a whole satchel full of crayons and art.

 

She wishes she could have seen more.

 

Suddenly, Day gets a fiery look in his eyes.

 

DogDay: We gotta find her!

 

Kicken: Uhhhh, yeah. That's the plan.

 

DogDay: Well, even more now! We have to return her art so she can show the world!

 

Kick can see his determination, and though it's a bit worrying, he can't help but feel it too.

 

Kicken: Yeah let's find her!

After class is freetime, and the three meet at a table in the back.

 

Elizabeth tries to ignore the stares from the other classmates.

 

It's a mix of the incident from earlier and suddenly hanging out with two literal superheros, but she can't afford to care about what the others think right now.

 

DogDay: Ok, so we need a plan for before, during and after.

 

Kicken: Whaddya mean by that?

 

Elizabeth: You mean how we find her, how we catch her and how we keep her here.

 

Kicken: Huh? Why would she not want to stay?

 

Elizabeth: She got scared. I don't know exactly why, but if she doesn't want to come back because she's scared, she may even run from us…

 

The thought hurts her, but not as much as that look in Carmen's eyes.

 

DogDay: She's right. So first we need to figure out how best to look for her.

 

Kicken: Gotcha. We’ll call it; Operation: “Crafty.”

 

Kicken: Cause we gotta be crafty about it, and she's crafty, so we gotta be craftier.

 

DogDay: Mhm! So let's get craftin’.

 

Kicken nods thinking pensively for a moment.

 

Kicken: Well, we can't go outside the fence at recess, and school starts really early, so the best time would be after school.

 

DogDay: Yeah. I walk home, Kicken gets picked up, and what about you?

 

He looks to Elizabeth.

 

Elizabeth: I take the bus. My mom doesn't…

 

Have time. Neither of her parents do

 

At least not for her…

 

Elizabeth: I take the bus…

 

DogDay: Ok. I'll take the long way home. I'll go around every block I can.

 

DogDay: K.C, can you ask your parents to drive you around a little bit every day?

 

Kicken: You got it!

 

Elizabeth smiles.

 

Shortening the hero names cause they're such close friends. So cool.

 

DogDay: Liz, try and hop off a bus stop early. It could give you time to look longer.

 

Elizabeth: O-Ok!

 

Oh, you feel like part of the team now.

 

And you're starting to feel a lot better about finding Carmen.

 

DogDay: Now, If either of you find Carmen, don't chase her. You could scare her off.

 

DogDay: Get to the closest phone you can find, call the mayor's office, and ask to be forwarded to “Master Lee-Day.”

 

Kicken: That's his secret identity.

 

Kicken leans across the table towards her, wing over his beak as he whispers.

 

DogDay: Was my secret identity…

 

DogDay playfully glares at Kick.

 

She can't help but laugh at the two.

 

Such good friends.

 

A part of her wishes she could have met them under better circumstances.

 

DogDay: Anyway, I'll call whoever is left and we'll all go look in the area she was spotted. It's best we work together to catch her.

 

Kicken: How are we gonna convince her to stay?

 

DogDay: That's where I come in.

 

Kicken: You are in.

 

DogDay: Well, that's where I come more in.

 

DogDay: You said Carmen doesn't have a home, yeah?

 

Elizabeth: She said so and it looked like it had been a while since she was able to clean herself.

 

It's why Liz was so insistent on doing her hair.

 

She didn't deserve to look so disheveled, when she could tell under all the dirt and grime that she had such nice fur.

 

DogDay: Well, I'll ask my dad for a favor.

 

Kicken: The Mayor? Didn't you say he-?

 

DogDay: Don't worry Kick, I can convince him that this is important.

 

DogDay: One of my friends needs a home, and I'll get her one.

 

DogDay: I'll build it myself if I have to!

 

Liz tries not to tear up at Day's words.

 

She only met Carmen today, and he hasn't met her at all, but he's willing to go so far for her.

 

For you.

 

Kicken: You got it Day!

 

They fistbumb.

 

You can't hold it in anymore.

 

As the tears start to come, Liz stands up, pulling them both into a hug.

 

Day hugs back, gently patting as she cries.

 

He's suprised at the sudden act of affection, while Kicken is in a much different state.

 

Kicken: Agk-..! My spine..!

 

Eventually she let's go, thanking the two profusely.

Day packs up and they all get ready to head home.

 

As they walk towards the exit, Kicken speaks up.

 

Kicken: Hey, since Liz is working with us now, we should give her a name like us!

 

Elizabeth: Huh? L-Like as a superhero?

 

Kicken: Yeah, we can make it a trio!

 

DogDay: Like the Three Musketeers!

 

Elizabeth: W-What would my name even be?

 

Kicken: What are your powers?

 

Elizabeth: Powers? I…I don't-...

 

DogDay: Everyone has some kind of superpower. You just don’t see it yet!

 

Kicken: She's got a strong hug, that's for sure.

 

DogDay: And suspicious amount of bobby pins.

 

Liz giggles.

 

Kicken: BighugBobby!

 

Kicken: Eh? Ehhhh? It keeps the allitratation going.

 

Elizabeth: I think that's “alliteration?”

 

Embarrassed, Kicken fluffs a bit.

 

Kicken: Well, what about it!?

 

DogDay: We can implement her species like you did for mine.

 

Kicken: B-Bear-ry… Bobby Bear…

 

Kicken: Oh, OH!

 

Kicken: BobbyBearhug!

 

Oh that’s… not bad!

 

Kicken: You can like… throw Bobby pins as weapons, and crush people's spines with your bearhugs!

 

That sounds… less nice.

 

Kicken: And you can call your special move the “Iron Maiden”, and put a bunch of pins on you and grab the villain and-

 

DogDay: H-Hey, Kick, don't scare her off now!

 

Suddenly, she giggles, Day turning to look in suprise.

 

Elizabeth: I love how creative you both are. I can tell you've been friends a long time.

 

DogDay: Well, I'm happy to make it it a trio now, if you're ok with us.

 

Elizabeth: That sounds really nice.

 

Kicken: You’re in!?

 

She nods.

 

Kicken: She's in!!!

 

Kicken: She'sInshe'sinshe'sinshe'si-!!!

 

Kicken runs about, as excited as can be.

 

It's so infections that Day's tail starts wagging up a storm, Liz walking with an excited bounce in her step.

 

Kicken: Look at us! DogDay, KickenChicken and BobbyBearhug!

 

Elizabeth: We're Superheroes!

 

DogDay: Three critters spreading happiness, smiles and appreciation one mission at a time!

 

Kicken gets a glean in his eye, turning around right on the spot.

 

Kicken: The Three Musketeers of Love, Light and Laughter!

 

Kicken: The Smiling Critters!!!

 

DogDay: There's our team name!

 

DogDay: Leave it to Kicken to think of a perfect name on the spot.

 

Day jogs up to Kicken with Elizabeth; now Bobby, following behind.

 

If there was any doubt in her mind they'd find Carmen, it's long gone now.

 

From here on out the Smiling Critters would only keep growing.

 

And it was all kicked off with Operation: “Crafty.”

 

.

Notes:

The Reordering Is A Mess, What Was I THINKING WITH THIS LAYOUT!!!

Chapter 3: PROLOGUE: “The Most Important Friendgroup Reality Will Ever Know: Part 3”

Summary:

An elephant roams the halls before his first day at his now school. This isn't a new thing for him, but with every new school, new town, new friendgroup... he just feels worse.

Notes:

Hey, It's Bubba's Turn!

This One Is A Little Rough Around The Edges, And It Took Me A Bit To Get The Hang Of (Which Is Why I Tried My Hand At A Side Story At The Same Time.), But Hopefully It Still Turned Out Good. Both This Part Of The Prologue And The Next Should Focus More On Bubba And Kicken's Relationship, Seeing As They Are One Of The Big Three Pairings In This Fic, But They Will Take A Sideline To The Next Smiling Critter To Join. And Lemme Tell You, I Had A LOT Of Fun Writing The Next Intermission.

Thanks For Your Patience, And I Hope You Enjoy!

An elephant boy paces alone in the hall of his new elementary school.

 

Dropped off early by his parents and with nothing else to do, he's been walking around in circles, turning right down the hall, then right, then right again.

 

Eventually ending up in the same place as before.

 

No progress has been made even though he's been moving forward.

 

All he's gained is sore legs and a mind still set on racing its way out of his skull.

 

Frustrated, he growls out his anger before slumping down against the wall and sitting on the floor.

 

He should be going to class and meeting his new teacher, but he doesn't want to even bother.

 

It’s a completely useless exchange of pleasantries that won't matter by the months end.

 

Nothing he does here will matter, because as soon as Father's job demands it, he’ll pack up everything like the world is ending, and move you all to some new town where nothing can matter once again.

 

And on and on and on.

 

Isn't there something about how this is detrimental to a child's mind?

 

The lack of social structure could cause developmental issues, he's sure of it.

 

Maybe that little tidbit of information would be prudent enough to make his father stay in one place for once, especially with your brothers on the way.

 

The bell rings, and students begin to flood in.

 

So much for Mother’s suggestion of meeting his teacher before she’s busy.

 

He leans back as the others start to flood past him towards class.

 

He may as well wait until morning freetime is over before even thinking of entering class.

 

Too many people.

 

As the larger group goes by, a few stragglers make their way behind them.

 

A dog, a chicken, a bear and a unicorn.

 

Kicken: -But we gotta make sure we memorize 'em right, or else we won’t know what each other are doing.

 

DogDay: What's the purpose of naming special attacks anyway? Won't villains know what to expect when we call them out?

 

Kicken: Not if we take them down in one shot! That's what makes them special!

 

Bobby: Can I have, like… a special defense instead?

 

Kicken: But you already have so many defensive moves!

 

Bobby: But I don't have any special defensive moves. Besides, Crafty has my back in that department, don’t you Crafty?

 

Crafty: Um… I mean, y-yeah! I'll do my best!

 

Bobby: Yeah! I believe in you Crafty!

 

DogDay: We all do! You're an important member of the team.

 

DogDay: Every good team needs a ranger. If I remember right, that means we have two fighters, a healer and a ranger.

 

Kicken: We're still using your fantasy games rules?

 

DogDay: Even if we're superheroes, it's good to have a balanced team!

 

DogDay: That way we can be ready for anything and prepared to help people in any way we need to!

 

Kicken: Ok, so what's next on the list?

 

DogDay: I guess either a wizard or a rogue. 

 

Bobby: Aren't rogues usually thieves or criminals?

 

Kicken: I thought they were all the same thing.

 

DogDay: Not necessarily! Some rogues can be really kind and just.

 

DogDay: It all depends on what they put their talents towards!

 

They all keep talking as they walk by, but one of the four slows his gait as he notices a blue elephant sitting alone in the hall.

 

Kicken sees the look on his face like a cry for help, and a cry he wouldn't think twice but to answer.

 

Walking up he catches his attention with a wave of his feathers and a grin.

 

Kicken: Hey Bub, why the long face?

 

The elephant deadpans at the rooster's overly dramatic voice he's putting on, not to mention that absolutely horrid joke he cracked.

 

The voice reminds him of a movie he and an old friend had watched once, and he can immediately tell this boy is trying to imitate the hero from it.

 

He holds a wing out which the elephant shrinks away from.

 

Kicken: I'm Kicken, what's your name, Bub.

 

…

 

Kicken: You look bored and stuff, can I help?

 

Kicken: You can come sit with me and my friends in class, we're the cool kids!

 

Still with that annoying voice.

 

It’s not like his problem will just go away because someone cared a bit more than the ones before him. This isn’t some cartoon.

 

In fact, Oliver hated cartoons.

 

They glorified the lie that impossible situations could be solved easily. With the power of friendship if they dare.

 

That simply was never a possibility.

 

Oliver: Don't bother. I won't be here long anyway.

 

He stands and walks off, Kicken’s wing still extended.

 

That… that jerk!

 

Oh, he's just ASKING for your attention now isn't he!

 

Well he's gonna get the full Kicken special for that! Best friends, BESTEST FRIENDS!!!

 

That'll show him for brushing you away so easily!

 

Before Kick could walk off, Day comes up from behind, having seen the whole thing, yet not heard it through the chatter of students down the halls.

 

DogDay: Who was that?

 

Kicken: My new rival.

 

Kicken leers down the hall towards where the blue critter walked off.

 

DogDay: Huh?

 

Kicken: Oh, uh . He looked sad, y’know? And we're like, the people who fix that!

 

Kicken: But he said to not even bother!

 

DogDay: Were you… doing your hero voice again?

 

Kicken: Uh, yeah. It's awesome. I dunno why he thought we weren’t good enough to help him.

 

Day tries not to sigh. He may not be embarrassed or anything like that when Kick does it, but it makes everything Kicken says seem disingenuous.

 

DogDay knows he's trying to force himself to be someone he's not, whether that's because he thinks he's not good enough or something else, he doesn't know.

 

Either way, that other kid did look sad, and helping people smile is what they do.

 

So…

 

It's time for the Smiling Critters to go to work!

After their first class was done, the four Critters went outside to go track down the elephant.

 

They soon found out that he never even went out to recess.

 

Crafty was the first to find him right back in the hallway from before.

 

As she walks over he immediately goes to stand.

 

Crafty: W-Wait!

 

He stills, looking at her with an untrusting crinkle in his brow.

 

Crafty: I’m Carm- C-Crafty. W-... What’s your name?

 

Oliver: … My name is Ollie.

 

He stammers a moment before correcting himself.

 

Oliver: Oliver. Don’t… call me Ollie please. It was my mistake.

 

He tried to be himself, because as he knows, that’s not how to get friends.

 

And he can’t afford to lose another set of friends.

 

Crafty: Okay. Nice to meet you Oliver.

 

Was it? He was intentionally being his standoffish self, exactly as his mother had told him not to do.

 

And the unicorn looked absolutely terrified to be talking to him.

 

Well, not terrified, but very nervous.

 

It’s then that Oliver saw a twinge of movement in the corner of his eye.

 

A red ear poking from around the corner of the school building.

 

He sighs.

 

Oliver: Do you really want to do this Crafty?

 

Nervously, she stutters, but when she gets over it her face is tainted with resolve and truth.

 

Crafty: Y-yes. We’re The Smiling Critters. We help anyone no matter how sad they are.

 

Crafty: And I-If being your friend will d-do that… then I want to.

 

Oliver: Friendship is supposed to be mutually beneficial. I wouldn’t want to be friends only for my sake.

 

As he goes to walk away, he hears a certain rooster curse under his breath, quickly reprimanded and shushed by who he assumes to be the dog.

 

Crafty, however, passes this test of his with flying colors, much to his chagrin.

 

Crafty: I- I still want to be friends!

 

He stops, turning around to look at her dead in the eyes.

 

Her brushstroke pupils fail to meet him for a moment before she can gather herself, and Oliver feels a bit bad for unsettling her.

 

Crafty: You’re… quiet. Like I am, I mean…

 

Crafty: I think it would be nice to have you as a friend.

 

Crafty: W -We wouldn’t even have to talk about anything! O-Or you c-can if you want. You’re voice would still be how it always is, s-so I could focus instead of…

 

She trails off, having made her point and not wanting to ramble.

 

Oliver sighs.

 

He’s this close to making a stupid decision.

 

Again.

 

One he can’t stop making no matter how illogical it is.

 

Oliver: What about the rest of you?

 

At his question, the three others tumble from around the corner, looking up at the unsurprised elephant guiltily.

 

Oliver: Why do you want to be my friend so bad?

 

Oliver: So much so that you’re doing…

 

He motions at the pile of warm hued critters trying to untangle themselves and stand.

 

Oliver: - this.

 

DogDay sheepishly smiles, the first one to step forward.

 

DogDay: I want to help with whatever you were sad about too, but…

 

DogDay: I just like new people! The way you talk is interesting and I think all of us agree that we can never have too many friends right?

 

The others nod.

 

This one is the leader, Oliver thinks.

 

Headstrong, supportive… naive.

 

Can never have too many friends? Of course you can.

 

The pain would only increase, if there were just more and more and-...

 

But he can’t deny the fact that that sinking feeling pooling in his chest as he sat there in the hall, or sat there in the car driving away from yet another life; this fear that has ruled his entire world up to this point.

 

Loneliness; will never stop unless he makes it stop. Himself, on his terms.

 

But he isn’t reckless.

 

Oliver: What’s your name?

 

DogDay: DogDay! Though the teachers call by my real name Samuel Lee-Day, so that’s why you’ll hear me respond to that.

 

Kicken: Duuuuude! Don’t reveal your secret identity!!!

 

Day nervously glances at Kicken, but Oliver expediates the question. He was always one for efficiency.

 

Oliver: And you?

 

The bear, having been quiet so far, makes a full turnaround in personality, nearly knocking Oliver’s socks off with her enthusiasm.

 

Bobby: Oh! I’m Bobby! Nice to meet you Oliver!

 

She goes to pull him into a hug, but he puts a hoof between them quickly enough for her to back off.

 

She kind of deflates, but still keeps that hopeful look she’s been sporting ever since he saw her appear from behind the wall.

 

Bobby: Sorry. I want to be your friend because, well… I like helping people.

 

Bobby: I know you said friendships should be mutually beneficial, but really, that’s enough for me. Making people happy makes me happy, and that’s the best reward I could ask for.

 

Oliver nods before turning to face him.

 

The rooster subtly sneers back in challenge at his rival, who’s stone-faced demeanor never shifts.

 

Oliver: Do you… even want to be friends with me?

 

Kicken: D-Do I- wh- wha!?

 

Kicken: A-Are you makin’ fun of me bub?

 

Aaaand back into the voice again.

 

Oliver raises an eyebrow.

 

It’s clear that Kicken does want to be friends, he wouldn’t have asked before in the first place, but that look he gave Oliver has the elephant confused.

 

Oliver: Why then?

 

Kicken: Do I need a reason? Everyone’s my friend!

 

Oliver: That’s impossible. You can’t make friends with everyone you meet.

 

Oliver: People drift apart, lose contact. Sometimes they just disappear without a word and never tell you.

 

Kicken fumes at this, as if being accused of having done this himself.

 

Kicken: I’d never-!

 

Oliver: I’m not saying you would.

Oliver: Sometimes it’s the only choice I have.

 

He looks away, and the others can see that sad look he wore when they first saw him returning.

 

Oliver: You’re good people. You want to help me. But there’s nothing you can do to help.

 

Oliver: I just have to hope I don’t move again.

 

Suddenly, DogDay understands, as well as Bobby, why Oliver is so wary of them.

 

He doesn’t want to hurt them in a way he knows all too well.

 

DogDay: It’s ok. Even if you do, we can still be friends if you’ll let us.

 

Oliver: I’ve heard that before.

 

DogDay: It’s true, you have my word Oliver. I’ll get my Father to give me the phone book if I have to! I have my own phone now and everything!

 

Oliver's face softens at Day's determination.

 

Bobby: I know you’re scared of losing everything again. I know what that’s like. But you can’t let that feeling stop you from enjoying life.

 

Crafty: I’ve… I’ve lost a lot too. But It just makes me want to keep what I have now so much more. I won’t…

 

She starts to tear up and sob, Bobby placing a paw on her shoulder comfortingly before pulling her into a hug.

 

Oliver knows they’re right. He can’t keep running away from life and expecting it to just work out one day.

 

He has to make it work.

 

So he sits down in the hall, and the rest do the same.

 

A moment of silence passes save for Craftys sniffling.

 

Oliver: I’m scared this isn’t going to matter.

 

DogDay: Everything you do matters. Even if you talk to someone everyday, and never see them again the next, you both will still remember each other. That time together still happened.

 

Oliver nods, taking in the information as best he can, and weaving it into his mind.

 

It’s good advice. True advice.

 

Kicken: …

 

Kicken: I’m scared too sometimes, but that doesn’t matter.

 

Oliver is confused for a moment, looking at him, but letting him speak.

 

Kicken: No matter how scared I am of people hating me, or thinking I’m weird, I’m still me.

 

Kicken: I know it doesn’t matter if they make fun of me because at least I’m not hiding away by myself anymore.

 

Kicken: I don’t run away cause I have people that like me, and that’s what matters, even if others don’t.

 

Kicken: And yeah, sometimes I still hide myself away behind something I'm not, but I try to do that less and less everyday.

 

Kicken: I'm getting better, and you can too.

 

DogDay smiles warmly at him and Oliver can’t help but admit to himself that that’s good advice too, even coming from Cameron.

 

It’s better to try and fail than not try at all, at least in this circumstance.

 

He can’t keep hiding away.

 

Bobby: Being afraid of losing something is hard.

 

Bobby: I… my…

 

She looks down, her heart shaped pupils dimming as she finds the right words.

 

Oliver meets her eyes with a look that tells her to take her time.

 

Bobby: My parents yell… a lot.

 

Bobby: They didn’t always, but it’s been happening a lot now.

 

Bobby: And… some of- some of the things they say to each other hurts.

 

Bobby: I know what’s going to have to h-happen.

 

Bobby: And I don’t want it to, but…

 

She goes silent, Crafty's hoofs finding her paw and comforting her in turn.

 

Oliver: But it will happen eventually, and you want to make the best of the situation as you can, because that’s all you can do.

 

She nods slowly, thankful that Oliver understood what she wanted to say.

 

DogDay: I, uh… I know it’s not nearly as bad, but…

 

Day looks around nervously, hoping nobody is listening aside from his friends.

 

Oliver: It’s ok. Say what you think is best. I will listen.

 

Day nods smiling gratefully at him.

 

DogDay: I can’t… sleep alone.

 

DogDay: I start to get really scared, and everything feels heavy and it’s hard to breathe.

 

DogDay: Sometimes I hold my plushies and that helps, but sometimes I have to go to my parents room and get in bed with them.

 

DogDay: I just… can’t sleep without knowing I’m not all alone.

 

Day lowers his head in shame, but nobody dares even think he’s in the wrong.

 

Seeing DogDay so sad makes Kicken feel sick, so he nudges him with a wing and shuffles closer.

 

Naturally, the dog leans against the bird's shoulder like clockwork.

 

They’ve been good friends for a while. They probably know each other better than anyone else at this point.

 

Oliver has wanted that for years.

 

DogDay: I-I guess what I’m saying is that it’s ok to ask other people for help. We want to help.

 

Oliver: Thank you.

 

Crafty and Bobby shift over to lean against the wall with their two friends, and Oliver awkwardly sits in front of them, processing what they all had to say.

 

Bobby pats the ground next to her which prompts him to lay back with them as they all look out at the playground through the hallway window.

 

DogDay: I think we all needed help with being sad.

 

Bobby: It’s nice to get it off our chests. Listening is what friends do.

 

Kicken: Thanks team.

 

DogDay smiles, snickering as his tail wags.

 

DogDay: Thanks team.

 

Crafty: Thank you.

 

Bobby: Hehe, Thanks team. That means you too Oliver.

 

Bobby: I-If you want, of course.

 

Personally Oliver had had enough time mulling it over.

 

Oliver: Of course. Thank you all.

 

DogDay: D-Does that mean-!?

 

Oliver: Yes. I’ll be your friend, if you’ll have me.

 

Bobby: New member! New member!

 

Kicken: HA, YES! I knew we could do it!

 

Kicken: The Smiling Critters win again!

 

Oliver: Does this mean…

 

Kicken: That you’re getting a nickname? Absolutely!

 

Oliver: I was going to ask about having a lunch table to ourselves, but now I’m more worried about that.

 

Kick huffs indignantly, his feathers ruffling in the most interesting way to Oliver, his beak clicking in annoyance.

 

DogDay: Don’t worry! Kicken has helped come up with all our names.

 

Bobby: He’s really good at it.

 

Crafty: I like your nicknames Kicken.

 

Kicken: Eeeeggs-actly!

 

Kicken: Now just sit back and let the master go to work!

 

Kicken contemplates for about a half second before-

 

Kicken: Bub- uhhhh…

 

Bobby: Bubster?

 

DogDay: Bubsy?

 

Oliver: …

 

Kicken: Bubba.

 

Oliver: No.

 

Kicken: Aw, c’mon!

 

Oliver: I’m sure you’ll come up with something more fitting, but not…

 

Oliver deadpans at Kicken, who’s giving him puppy dog eyes, a feat biologically impossible, as he was an avian.

 

This was gonna be a long-

Bubba gasps up from his desk, nearly falling back off his swiveling chair from his weight, the chair creaking as it clatters back onto the tile of his office, the momentum sliding him listlessly away from his desk.

 

He takes a few gasps of air as if he’d not breathed that whole day, looking around wildly as his mind attempts to orient himself back in the here and now.

 

He looks right. Finding his desk disheveled and his notepad with an ugly line drug across its paper where he’d apparently fallen asleep.

 

At first he went to go look at what he’d written, but as soon as his hooves touched the floor they nearly buckled under him like they were jelly.

 

Catching his breath and letting his heart slow from that fresh spritz of adrenaline, Bubba looked to his window instead.

 

Like usual, he had a view of whatever house was most relevant at the moment, regardless of how the cul-de-sac was structured.

 

It didn’t matter what window either. This world decided what he’d see and he hated it.

 

Ever since he came to the realization that the world he lived in was nothing more than a puppet show, with him and the only people he cares about as its felted slaves.

 

They had no proper names, families…

 

Childhoods.

 

At least not until twelve minutes ago when Bubba started questioning that exact thing.

 

Where he came from, or where any of them came from for that matter.

 

And of course the universe spat it back at him as if it’d been there all along.

 

Memories. Whether hidden or false he didn’t know.

 

A part of him didn’t care to.

 

He was given more time with his friends, with Kicken, Crafty.

 

Or, Cameron and Carmen he should say.

 

Or… would it be better to not take the names now given to them? Would the others even recognize them or was only he cursed with this new past?

 

He sighs.

 

For once, he needs a break.

 

The doorbell rings twice, cut off the second time, and then about 7 more times sequentially.

 

Kicken: Bubbaaaa!!!

 

Thankfully the cruel universe saw fit to give him a distraction for his worsening migraine.

 

A distraction he’ll take at any chance he can.

 

And so Bubba got up to greet the rooster, letting him into his house, and into his mind as to purge the mounting stress from pummeling him into a dark corner of his brain he’d rather not explore more of.

 

Though across the cul-de-sac, a cat tries to sleep off the pure fear and adrenaline of what he saw, or rather didn't see in the forest last night, but thanks to Bubba’s own questions, the universe had thoughtlessly supplied all relevant parties with new and sudden memories.

 

Memories that the cat had not asked for on top of what he found in that forest. 

 

.

Notes:

Phew! Some Side Lore As To Where The Prologue Falls In Regards To When The Critters Are Even GIVEN Backstories. I Think This Is A Good Way To Show Off What Happened To The Critters While They Were Still Back In The Valley, Without Forcefully Bringing It Up In The Present Story When It Wouldn't Make Sense.

Turns Out That A Little Bit After Bubba Becomes "Sentient" For Lack Of A Better Term, His Questioning Of Reality Prompts Reality To Say "Nuh Uh, You've Allllways Had Childhoods, I Swear!" And Throw Together 5 Connected Stories On The Spot, Jamming Them Straight Into Our Main Casts Heads, Whether Aware Of The New Info Or Not.

And For Those Aware, It May Not Be So Pleasant, Especially For A Certain Cat Who's World Had Just been Shattered The Day Before After A Routine Walk Through The Forest.

Chapter 4: PROLOGUE: “The Most Important Friendgroup Reality Will Ever Know: Part 4”

Summary:

With their second year of middle school slowly coming to a close, The Smiling Critters walk home in an impossible rainstorm, when their leader smells something concerning. For the rest of the week, The Critters worry for DogDay multiplies as he stops showing up to school. (feat. Doey, holy crap Ch4 real!!!)

Notes:

Heeeere's The Biggun. At Least It Felt Big Writing It.

I Was Always Excited For This Part Of The Prologue As I Wanted To Show More Of My Version Of Day And Nap, As Well As The Concept I Came Up For It Being Interesting IMoHO. I Kiiiinda Started Losing Steam Near The Notebook Section, But Hopefully Some Touchups Can Fix Up Stilted Dialogue. The Sudden Perspective Change Kinda Threw Me Off. (Interestingly, As I Was Writing, I Kept Thinking Of The Storybook Scene In Deathly Hallows)

Anyway, Here's Many Of Yous's Faaaavorite Boi In The Penultimate Part Of Intermission 1! Hope You Enjoy My Take On Him!

It was the last week of the second year of middle school for the Smiling Critters, just a week away from summer break.

 

Apparently, a perfect time for rain.

 

A lot of rain.

 

As they ran after Kicken and Day, who’d both dashed eagerly into the rainstorm, the winds started to pick up.

 

Once the other three critters reached the two, their good moods were caught off guard by just how violent the storm was.

 

Bubba: Didn’t I tell you-

 

Kicken: Be careful, be careful- yeah we got it the first time, and we’re fine!

 

Kicken rubs his elbow where he’d tripped on, a fresh scratch forming, but not even close to the worst he’s had.

 

Still, Bubba swiftly, but gently, grabbed him by the wing, inspecting the scratch until Kick yanked his wing away, blushing.

 

Kicken: Dude, I’m fine!

 

Bubba: Disinfect that when you get home.

 

Kicken: You’re not my mom!

 

Bubba: Correct, I’m your friend who cares about you. Just take care of it.

 

Kick didn’t bother trying to respond, still struggling against the wind and rain no thanks to his wings, which he couldn’t decide where to put in a way that shields his eyes but doesn’t catch wind.

 

Bubba: This storm came out of absolutely nowhere.

 

Bubba: And during summer of all times.

 

Kicken: Can we stop thinkin’ and start movin’!? We gotta get ourselves home before this stupid wind blows us into next tuesday!

 

Bobby: Are you sure we're even gonna make it that far?

 

It was almost hard for the two to hear her voice over the wind and rain scattering noises every which way as it covered the streets and houses.

 

She was struggling to keep an umbrella from flying away, having to hold it forward, with both arms, on either side as to actually shield herself and Crafty from the rain.

 

Crafty: B-Bubba, your house is far, isn’t it?

 

Bubba: It’s just across town, but with this wind, a two hour walk may turn into a four hour one.

 

Bobby: It’d be too dark by then!

 

Bubba: I won’t get lost, I promise.

 

Kicken: Pshh, yeah right. And you say I have a deathwish sometimes.

 

Bubba: That’s because you-

 

DogDay: Hey, both of you!

 

The two jump at their leader's sudden bark, a volume he never often reaches, but has more often as the two get into spats more and more.

 

DogDay: Nobody is gonna make it through this storm alone! Let’s just get to my house and wait until it passes. Mine’s the closest and I have towels and umbrellas for everyone.

 

Kicken: I dunno Day, Bubba couldn’t survive a night without his books.

 

The rooster's comment fell upon deaf ears as Bubba was preoccupied thinking about something else and Day just shook his head disappointedly.

 

The elephant had noticed a pattern.

 

Just like the last few times that Day talked about his home, he referred to it as his, something he’d started doing since middle school began, and his sleeping schedule had gotten worse as well.

 

It was worrying to all The Critters, but DogDay did his best to keep it hidden, though poorly sometimes, as shown by him snapping at them just then.

 

Though Bubba didn’t blame him of course, it was Kicken’s faul-

 

Just then, he bumped into a mass of yellow feathers.

 

Kicken: Dude, what the-!

 

But Bubba put his hoof up to silence him.

 

DogDay had stopped in his tracks, prompting Kicken to stop, and Bubba to crash into him.

 

Day was sniffing the air, a very distraught look on his face.

 

Bobby: What's wrong Day?

 

He didn’t answer, as if not even hearing her, turning his head this way and that, to lock onto whatever he smelled.

 

Before his eyes shot open and he bolted.

 

Kicken: Woah- DogDay wait up!

 

With that, Kicken was off too, Bubba sighing in frustration before chasing after the bird; a routine he was accustomed to at this point.

 

Bobby turned to see a worried expression on Crafty mirroring her own.

 

When Kicken caught up to DogDay, he was crouched down, nearly waist deep in a muddy ditch, trying to wade through the water for… something.

 

Bubba gasped for breath by the time he himself caught up, but went silent when he looked at the stream rushing down the ditch.

 

Stopping Kicken from walking forward, the rooster looked at him confused.

 

Bubba: Look .

 

Was all he said as he pointed downstream.

 

Red.

 

The stream turned red…

 

That’s when Bobby and Crafty arrived, and DogDay finally yelled.

 

DogDay: Someone help! I can’t get them out!!!

 

The way Day’s desperate voice cracked made them all freeze for a moment.

 

It’s a tone you wouldn’t ever have expected out of him.

 

Seconds later, Kicken wrenched himself from Bubba and ran into the ditch along with Bobby, who’d given the umbrella to Crafty, who was busy staring distraught at the way the water turned crimson as it flowed.

 

DogDay tugged hard on the mucky brown arm he’d found, trying not to look at how the mud was stained with red which was now all over him.

 

Whoever this was he could smell the blood from a block away, and they were unconscious, head down in the muddy water as their body contorted uncomfortably.

 

His voice hurt from yelling so loudly but he was desperate. The body was lodged on something and Day couldn’t tell what through the murky, crimson water.

 

Soon Bobby was tugging with him before she went to try and hold their head above water while Kicken discovered what he had about the critter being stuck.

 

Fruitlessly, Day pulled and pulled, his heart beating faster and faster the longer this person stayed lifelessly submerged below the surface.

 

But he’d had enough.

 

DogDay: CAMERON!

 

Day held the arm out for Kick to take, and as soon as the critter was secure he plunged into the water, feeling along the ground for what was stuck.

 

He was already starting to lose oxygen as the adrenaline had him too worked up, but his paw soon hit something soft.

 

A tail, which he followed for a while before finding what he was so desperately looking for.

 

He breached the surface, gasping for air and covered in mud and gunk.

 

The other critters saw him significantly farther upstream than expected before he dove down again.

 

After a few short moments, Bobby was finally able to lift the critters head above water as Kicken started dragging them out.

 

Somehow, Day was there in just seconds, helping him haul the critter up and out of the ditch.

 

Kick noticed Day send a deadly glare at a tree across the way.

 

The critter was heaving and coughing, shivering like mad as the rain slowly washed the larger chunks of muck off of them.

 

Day pants, wiping mud from his eyes to little success as he just takes a moment to catch his breath.

 

The critter was a cat, it’s tail long and slick with grime.

 

Blood caked their fur here and there, but it was concentrated around the head, more still flowing out as they lay there.

 

The Critters needed to hurry.

 

Fast.

 

Day goes to pick them up, but Bubba puts a hoof out to stop him.

 

Bubba: We don’t know how hurt they are.

 

DogDay: We can’t just leave them here in the rain!

 

Bubba: We may make something worse!

 

DogDay: Or they can die out here in the street and we both know I’m NOT going to let that happen!!!

 

Not a moment later, Day is trying to find a way to pick the cat up.

 

DogDay: S-Someone, uh- help me get them on my back!

 

DogDay had started to shiver hard from how wet and cold he was, but despite that he hoisted the cat onto his back with the help of Bobby, who held their tail to stop it from dragging on the ground.

 

DogDay: H-H-House, n-now!

 

The order given, they all ran as fast as they could towards the mayor’s house.

DogDay, unglamourously flung open the door with his lower paw, not caring about the mud smearing the glass from his first two attempts.

 

He rushed in, turning immediately towards the downstairs washroom.

 

By the time the rest of the critters were inside, the shower was running, and they all filed into the hallway where Day was looking muddy, terrified and cold.

 

He shook, internally telling himself he was going to have that damn tree uprooted for having caught the critters tail around its roots.

 

Kicken: Day, you ok? Y-You look like the swamp thing…

 

His best friend just looked at him, not properly processing the half-assed joke. 

 

To be fair, most of them were busy processing what had even happened or what to do at this point.

 

Bobby was the first to speak.

 

Bobby: W-Where are your parents?

 

Day took a moment to respond before shaking his head.

 

DogDay: Out. Business.

 

Bobby: Oh… Okay…

 

Crafty: W-What do we do?

 

Kicken: Well, we fix them! It’s not like we can leave them like that.

 

Bubba: Fix? We should call an ambulance, take them to the hospital, anything! We aren't qualified to fix them!

 

DogDay: Normally I’d agree, but…

 

Bubba: But what?

 

Day looks down at the cat in the shower, the muck and grime giving way to their purple fur beneath.

 

Their breathing has steadied and they’re no longer coughing, but what Day is focused on is what he found before the rest made it outside the bathroom.

 

Five scars across their back, small, but arranged like a tally.

 

They weren’t accidents.

 

DogDay: I don’t think… I don’t think they were going somewhere when they fell.

 

DogDay: I don’t think they have anywhere TO go…

 

Confused, Bubba doesn’t respond.

 

Day stands up, adjusting the shower head better before walking up to the door.

 

DogDay: I think we’re the only hope they have.

 

DogDay: Trust me. Please. 

 

Bubba nodded, still unsure, but…

 

After all Day has done for him and the other Critters, of course he’d trust him.

 

Once the others had left him be, Kicken declared he’d set up a movie to watch after they grabbed some towels and he showed them around Day’s fancy house for the first time.

 

Then it was just him and the cat.

 

DogDay did his best to clean them of the ditch water and blood, finding the blood had come from a wound on their head.

 

Thankfully, it didn’t look bad as he washed away the crimson stain in their fur and disinfected it.

 

A small wince shuddered through them and they let out the smallest pained cry, which Day himself winced at.

 

DogDay: I'm sorry, I’m sorry…

 

He pat the cat's head as he finished up, trying to get the disinfecting done and over with as fast as he could.

 

Purple was an odd color, Day thought, not seeing many critters with that color of fur, but he thought it looked nice, at least once it was all clean.

 

As he went to grab a towel however, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

 

He was drenched in brown and wet, his wrists and ankles still stained red from the blood in the stream, though his paws were clean from washing the cat.

 

Gently lifting the cat out of the shower, he leaned them against the cupboard with a towel to keep warm, one more as a mat to sit on and a final one as a pillow to rest their head on.

 

He quickly rinsed himself off and dried, beginning to dry the cat off the rest of the way, knowing he wouldn’t get them dirty again.

 

Carefully, he brushed their fur down, taking extra time and care on the tail, not just because it may be injured from the tugging, but because its length and softness surprised him.

 

Day did his best, as he always did, and then some for this critter.

 

Once he was certain they were safe and clean, only then did he wander out down the hallway and into the living room.

 

The movie was paused immediately, Kicken shooting off the couch to meet DogDay in the archway of the hall.

 

Kicken: Hey, how are they?

 

DogDay: Stable, I think. I cleaned them off and made sure they were breathing ok.

 

DogDay: After that I turned the heater on. The blood was from a head wound. It’s patched up now.

 

Bubba: Make sure to change those bandages frequently.

 

DogDay: I will.

 

With that, he slumped onto the couch.

 

He sounded exhausted, and they could understand, but on top of how tired Day had been the past year, this was the worst they’d seen him.

 

So silently, they continued to watch the movie.

Day paid zero attention to it.

 

He was standing often, so much so in fact that eventually sometimes he’d not even bother sitting down before going back to check on the cat.

 

Kicken was frustrated, about to tell the dog he’d hold him down if he didn’t sit still, but Bubba just shook his head no.

 

All that would do is make him more worried. Not good for anyone.

 

After the storm had died down, the rest of the Smiling Critters went home, thanking Day for the shelter and to let them know if the cat woke up.

 

Kicken as always, was out last.

 

At the door, he stopped, looking at Day before fully turning to face him, still under the awning just a door apart.

 

The best friends stared at each other, Kicken with a look of worry, and Day’s face strained and tired.

 

Kicken: Hey… please get some sleep, ok?

 

DogDay smiled, trying his best not to let it’s falseness show.

 

DogDay: What kind of “ Lord of All-Nighters” asks someone to sleep.

 

Kick chuckles at the callback, but his expression shifts back to serious soon after.

 

Kicken: Seriously. I’m worried about you.

 

Day felt a pang of guilt in his chest, sorely unwanted.

 

DogDay: I’ll try. I promise.

 

Kicken nods, hugging his best friend before walking out into the rain and planting his skateboard down.

 

Kicken: You better!

 

Kicken: And hey, If that cat wakes up as a zombie and eats you, then tell all the other zombies I’m off limits!

 

DogDay: Only cause you’re mine to kill!

 

Kicken: You wish!

 

With that, Kicken was gone, skating down the still wet road towards his house.

 

Now that Day was truly alone, his bright smile faded back into confliction-tinged neutrality.

 

His parents were out of town on business who knows where, and they never told him when they’d be back.

 

It’s often months.

 

Sure, his dad’s glorified butler comes by and drops off food for him, but telling Doey about a stranger in the house would most likely lead to them being taken right back to whoever… whoever hurt them…

 

He’d figure it out himself.

 

Soon, Day got to work making his bed upstairs, as it was the most comfortable.

 

His parents, once they had learned about his sleeping issues, had done their damndest to make his bed and room as comfortable as possible for him, but while it helped a little, nothing actually worked.

 

Finished with the bed, he walked back downstairs to retrieve the cat.

 

They breathed steadily in his arms as he gently took them up the stairs and into his room.

 

They were still a little damp and shivering as well, but hopefully that would change with a couple warm blankets.

 

After covering them up and doing his best to make sure they’re comfortable, he went hunting for his old mattress hidden in the attic.

 

After finding it, he tried to dust it off, but there isn’t much he could do for how old it is.

 

He drug it down the stairs and back to his room, phenagling it through the door where he unceremoniously dropped it on the floor.

 

Dust came cascading off, which worried him for the cat’s sake, but none of it ever reached their side of the room.

 

With an old ratty pillow and a thin blanket he’d found draped over the mattress, Day laid down, exhausted.

 

But of course, he couldn’t sleep.

 

Tossing and turning, he tried to find a comfortable spot.

 

His nose itched after the third sneeze and he tried to hug the pillow, imagining it was Kicken or his Father, or anyone really.

 

Someone real and present to prove to him that he isn’t trapped in some nightmare with a dying critter he has no clue how to help just a dozen feet away.

 

He tried to calm down.

 

They’re fine.

 

He’s fine.

 

This… this is gonna work out!

 

Maybe…

 

What the others didn’t understand was that his sunshine could never hit him like it hit the others.

 

He could uplift and inspire others the best he could, but never himself.

 

He stared at the ceiling, then to the cat.

 

Ceiling, cat, ceiling, cat.

 

Window, door.

 

Cat...

 

Seeing his night going nowhere towards rest, Day just gets up.

 

A late night snack and a coffee later (which his parents usually hide because he isn’t allowed coffee), he finds himself upstairs again, staring at the cat.

 

Like a creep, he unhelpfully thinks.

 

No, no. I’m looking after them! This is normal.

 

He slides his desk chair up to the bed and sits down.

 

The cat is breathing slowly, as if in a deep dream.

 

Up…

 

And down…

 

Their chest rises and falls, faint puffs of r̸̡̦̦͉̦̼̯̱̘̟̙͙̟̼̣͚̥̔̓̒́̀̊͝ȩ̶̛̘̳̖̻͔̞̪̹̯̞͓̦͚͔̦͚͕͈̮̘̺̦̄̿͐̓́͑̃̉̇̎͗͋̓̅́̾̽͋͒̂̇̓͗̉̚̚͜͜͝ḍ̸̡̱͚̲̯̣͓̲̖̞̣̳̮̥͓̊ͅḑ̷̛̖̞̰̟̺̮̹͈͖̖͙̳̜̳͚̳̲̂̉͋̃̔̂̆̂̈̌̿͂̋̄͒͘̕͠͝͠͝í̵̧̨̢̥̹̮͔̤̻͕̪̬̦̝̦͙̰̪̮̯̬͚̪̩̻̹̭̝͓̬̜͚̃͌͆͆̂͒̂̈́̽̓̔̀̽̄̆͠͠ş̷͈̳͒̍͗̀ͅh̷̨̧̛͇̖̭͉̫͉̹͈͖̳͚̥̭̟̞̔̍̾̈͒̓̋̉͆́̈͌̈́͂̈́̅́͜ͅ ̶̛͚̯͍̍̌̉̾̽̑̍̏͊́͗̈̀̃̀́̅́̿̊̎̀̽͌̀̊͘̕̕͝͠s̷̠͕̼̦̱͛̎̏̋̋͛̓̎̋̏̑́̈́̕̚͝͠ṁ̵̡̡̨͕̘͓͖̼͓͎̥͕̗̤̩͔̬̖̘̪͈̗͚̮̔̈́́̋̎̓̓̎͒̄́͐͂̾̿̀́͐͜͝͝ͅo̸̼̣̊̋̒̊ͅk̴̩̥͈̳̳͓̫̙̫͈͉̇̒̇̈́̏͊̈́̀̆̇̇̂̀͑̏͐͊͛͘̕̕̚͝͝ͅe̸͖̰̺͔̖͍̖̹̗̬̫͖͙̬͔̬͂̾͆̾̇̈̾̓̇͛, billowing from their—

Day shoots up, eyes wide, but bleary.

 

Looking around, his room comes into view, struck by an afternoon sun.

 

Once his bedside clock comes into view, he cringes.

 

Uh oh…

 

2:00pm

 

His parents would be so disappointed…

 

Seeing no reason to rush to school with only an hour left, Day leans back in his chair.

 

…

 

Chair?

 

An uncomfortable twinge in his back confirms that he did, in fact, fall asleep at his desk.

 

Then… why did he have to look left to look at his clock?

 

He finally looks down and it all starts to flood back to him.

 

The storm , that horrible smell , the muddy ditch and that damned tree.

 

The critter they pulled out and what they looked like.

 

Finding that same image now clean and resting in his bed next to a humiliating puddle of drool no doubt from DogDay falling asleep right next to them.

 

Ugh, that’s extraordinarily embarrassing, and Day rarely ever feels embarrassed.

 

In fact, the only emotion stronger than his current discomfort, is exhaustion.

 

For looking like he slept so soundly, it sure doesn’t feel that way.

 

For the next 30 minutes, he cleans up his mess as best he can, downing another coffee before coming back upstairs to see the cat again.

 

Kicken’s comment from last night comes back to him, the bird berating him for checking on the cat so often instead of “Chillaxin’” and enjoying the movie.

 

He was frustrated with the bird at the time, something happening with both him and Bubba more often nowadays, but then Day remembers Kicken’s plea for him to sleep well, and how fast he gave up on doing so, at least until the moon somehow dragged him off to snoozeville itself.

 

Of course, he couldn’t remember quite when he finally had gotten to bed, but it must have been late given how far into the day it is now.

 

Mourning his lost sleep schedule, Day finds his phone dead, so he plugs it in.

 

Yet another ball dropped, and one he rarely ever forgets.

 

Just how disappointing can h-

 

Ding.

 

Ding ding ding di-

 

As his phone turns on, the notifications go haywire, and he has to quickly muffle the speaker with his paw, something he struggles to do because of its weird placement below the phone case.

 

The cat starts to grumble, a faint mewl emitting from the blankets, and in an act of spontaneity, Day unplugs the phone, which kills it just moments later.

 

He doesn’t know why, but he didn’t want to wake the cat up.

 

He should, as they’ve been asleep too long, and questions answered would be useful for both of them, but…

 

Day has a bad feeling in his gut.

 

He checks them over, noticing quickly how their fur is moist and matted by sweat.

 

He hazards a nudge at their forehead confirming what he was worried about.

 

They have a high fever.

 

Day takes the blankets off and goes to work caring for the cat once again.

 

Taking temperature, cleaning and reapplying bandages to the head wound.

 

On his third trip out of the room to trash the bad bandages his ears pick up a noise.

 

The growling of a stomach followed by a scratchy mewl.

 

A wry expression spreads on Day’s face, not of frustration, but fear of having to do this alone, which had been building this whole time.

 

But he pushes it aside again, no matter how overpowering that feeling may be.

 

Day is all this cat has right now.

The rest of the afternoon and into the night, DogDay frets over the cat’s health, making smoothies and water to keep them alive while they’re stuck in this coma.

 

Fluids are easy to get into them, but it's uncomfortable for DogDay, who’s so scared of messing up that the first time the cat nearly coughed up what Day had administered, the dog almost cried, apologising profusely to the critter who wasn’t even conscious enough to respond.

 

Day felt like he was failing them.

 

They weren’t waking up, he kept reaching dead ends on how better to take care of them.

 

Every outcome that came to his mind was between the cat dying in front of him, or waking up in a horrible state thanks to Day’s lack of medical skill.

 

At least he knows for sure that he’d never become a doctor.

 

Too stressful.

 

When the clock hit 3:00am Day had to admit to himself that he needed a break.

 

He found his phone which he’d knocked under his desk while rushing around and plugged it in in the living room.

 

The texts continued to flood in.

5:45am

 

Kicken: yo day ur l8 to school

 

Kicken: I’m so frickin proud of you dude

 

Kicken: unlss you gotchurself ZOMBIFIED

 

Kicken: dont eat me bro

12:12pm

 

Kicken: hey hey.

 

Kicken: im actually kinda worried as heck now bro

 

Kicken: im gonna go break into your house if you dont respond k

 

Kicken: ?

 

Kicken: the question mark was for the last text not cuz im confused

 

Kicken: actually i am confused WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU DUDE????????????????

4:06am

 

Bobby: Good morning SammySam! See you at school! <3

 

Bobby: And I want to hear alllllllllllll about how our kitty friend is doing! ^w^

6:00am

 

Bobby: DogDay, you should really be at school right now, but If you’re busy taking care of the kitty I understand.

 

Bobby: Make sure to get some sleep and eat right ok?

1:36pm

 

Bobby: Kicken is starting to worry me. He said you’re probably dead, which I definitely don’t believe, but please be careful.

 

Bobby: I’m worried about you not getting sleep.

2:44am

 

Bobby: Dogday. please answer one of us please.

 

 

 

3:30am

 

Bubba: Good morning. I know you will not see this until later, but please remember to change out our new friends bandages before you leave for school today. Also I think you should leave a glass of water, sandwich with a fair amount of meats and greens, and a note explaining where they are and who you are, next to wherever you have opted to keep them. It’s important that they understand that they are safe.

3:00pm

 

Bubba: Please ignore whatever Cameron may be sending you. I promise I am keeping The Critters in line in your absence and you have nothing to worry about. I may not agree with your choice to keep our friend at your residence instead of a medical facility, but I do understand the stakes of what you were referring to yesterday.

 

Bubba: I also hope that your day was ok.

8:00pm

 

Bubba: Make sure to get some sleep Samuel.

 

Bubba: Also; make sure to check their wounds again.

 

Bubba: The cat’s, I mean.

 

Bubba: Also make sure to get some water and nutrients into them. I apologize for my lapse in judgement or I would have reminded you of this earlier. Here is a link to an online article on how to perform such a task. https://www.wikihow.com/Drink-Responsibly

 

Bubba: Apologies. That is the wrong article.

12:30pm

 

Crafty: Are you ok?

2:23pm

 

Crafty: The others want me to go check on you after school when I walk by your house

 

Crafty: Sorry if i bother you

3:35pm

 

Crafty: Sorry for ringing your doorbell

 

Crafty: Are you there day?

4:50pm

 

Crafty: Ill go home now

 

Crafty: I hope youre ok

 

Crafty: And i know youre tired of me saying it but thank you again.

 

Crafty: for the tower

 

Crafty: Youre welcome whenever you want

3:09am

 

DogDay: I am so so sorry Crafty I didn’t hear you

 

DogDay: I hope you sleep well im sirry for makeng you stand outside for solong

 

DogDay: Im ok I promise im ok justplease get some rest

 

DogDay: ANd i promise ill cone see you when i can. Its relaxing spending time with you and id lovethat  goodniht

Shame and embarrassment flood him again, on top of the exhaustion.

 

He takes a cringe filled look at his butchered texts and resolves to look less like a fool for the next ones.

 

Not that Kicken would care, so he might as well start with him.

3:13am

 

DogDay: Its gomma take more than a cat scratch to keep me down.

 

DogDay: No Zonbies or anything I’m ok.

3:15am

 

DogDay: Thank you for caring about me

Ok, Bobby next.

 

Wait, no. She’s still up.

 

Bubba.

3:18am

 

DogDay: Thank you. I have it handled and I appreciate your help.

 

DogDay: I’m also just getting a snack. I swear I’m sleepimg.

 

Bubba: This is an automated response should you text me between 10:00pm and 4:00am; Sure you are.

Dangit. Caught red handed.

 

Bobby then.

 

God, she must be so worried.

3:20am

 

DogDay: I’m here.

 

Bobby: Sammy thank god your safe

 

DogDay: I am. I just woke up late and my phone was dead, I’m sorry.

 

Bobby: It’s ok Day. We were all just worried is all.

 

Bobby: I’m happy I heard from you. Please take care of yourself hon. You’re really important to us all. <3

DogDay tries not to tear up.

 

There is nothing he can do.

 

So he lies. Like he always does.

3:25am

 

DogDay: I promise.

 

DogDay: Goodnight.

 

Bobby: Sweet dreams

He doesn’t sleep that night

The week goes by and Day doesn’t leave the house.

 

He sleeps on the couch when his body convinces his mind to do so, but his back hurts and his rests are short.

 

The cat’s fever is gone thank god, and sometimes Day just sits and stares at them.

 

Often he feels dull, but he sees progress and that helps him get through it.

 

No more fever, no more hunger.

 

Just a peacefully sleeping cat.

 

Ding.

 

Aaaand a group of worried friends.

 

It’s the usual.

 

Everyone saying hi, and wishing him good rest.

 

They understand if he won’t respond sometimes and hope it’s because he’s sleeping, but unfortunately it’s for a more shameful reason.

 

He can’t respond without feeling even more exhausted.

 

Thankfully it’s friday, and Doey will be by in around an hour to drop off this week's food.

 

Which means more coffee, now that Day knows their secret spot for it.

 

Doey couldn’t be sneaky if he tried.

 

When the doorbell rings (he made sure to never ever miss a doorbell again after Crafty) Day bounds down the stairs right as he finishes checking the cat's temperature.

 

He does his best to fix his frazzled fur and smooth out his ears before stopping at the door to smell his breath.

 

It reeks .

 

The doorbell rings again and to save face, Day opens it then and there.

 

In the door is a humanoid clayman carrying about five bags of groceries, no sweat.

 

Doey: Heya Sambo!

 

DogDay: H- Hi Doey! Here, lemme…

 

Day grabs three of the bags and rushes off to the kitchen as Doey closes the door behind him.

 

Doey: Thanks pal. How ya been?

 

DogDay: Great!

 

DogDays voice cracks and he curses it for sounding so tired

 

As Day turns to him, Doey looks unconvinced and borderline worried.

 

Doey: Youuuu sure buddy?

 

DogDay: Yeah, just hard to sleep recently, that’s all!

 

Doey looks like he wants to say something, but Day starts to unload the groceries.

 

He plops the fresh coffee tin right in Doey’s hands to get it out of the way first.

 

DogDay: Thanks for getting the groceries again!

 

Doey: Well, whaddya pay me for huh?

 

He pats Day on the back as he grabs another bag to put away.

 

Doey: But uhhhh… I wanted to ask you somethin’.

 

Day pauses for a moment, not entirely sure of the tone he used.

 

Doey: Your parents got a call when they sent me the list, and they asked me about it.

 

Doey: Soooo…

 

Doey: Why’d you skip on school? I-I’m not mad or nothin’, but I’m worried aboutcha.

 

Doey was always awful at confrontation, as was proven by the time Kicken got Day grounded and as his parents were out of town, Doey had to enforce it.

 

Day couldn’t just tell Doey about the cat, but he knew he was horrible at big lies like this.

 

He can be creative in small ways, and he’s good at leading The Critters, but constructing an elaborate story as to why he missed so many days…

 

Doey: Sam, bud. You ok?

 

Day’s ears were down, a worried look telling Doey that he wasn’t exactly happy about being prodded like this.

 

He didn’t like it either, and while it’s his job to take care of Sam anyway, he can’t stand to see the kid so down in the dumps.

 

He kneels down to Samuel’s level.

 

Doey: Hey, you can trust me ok? I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to, just lemme know how I can help.

 

Doey: Is it bullies? Are you overwhelmed somehow? Nightmares? Your teachers?

 

The dog shakes his head breathing in and out slowly.

 

DogDay: Just… can I show you? It’s a long story.

 

Doey: Ok…

 

He takes Doey’s hand, tentatively leading him out of the pantry, kitchen, and into the living room.

 

Up the stairs, down the hall and right to his room.

 

Doey knows the layout of the house well enough, but the way Sam’s room has been presented puts him on edge.

 

Day meanwhile isn’t doing much better, heart now pounding in his ears as he prepares for something to go horribly wrong.

 

DogDay: Just d- don’t freak out ok?

 

Doey nods and so Day slowly opens the door and lets him inside.

 

At first he doesn’t know what's off until he looks at the dog's bed to find two fluffy, purple triangles sticking up from it, the blanket softly rising up and down.

 

It’s a cat.

 

A bandage on their head but otherwise pristine and well looked after, sans how thin they are.

 

Doey: Who… is this?

 

DogDay: I don’t know.

 

DogDay: On monday, there was that big storm, remember?

 

He nods. Hell of a day to get called into work he thinks.

 

DogDay: And when we were all walking back home, I smelled something bad downwind.

 

DogDay: A-As soon as I recognized it was blood, I followed it to a flooded ditch where they were floating downstream.

 

DogDay: They got their tail caught a-and hit their head somewhere along the way, but I don’t think anything is broken.

 

Doey: You’ve been taking care of them?

 

Day nods.

 

DogDay: They’ve got… scars. I didn’t want to bring them to a hospital in case they brought them back to whoever did that to them.

 

Doey: Golly…

 

Looking at him now that he’s dropped the act, Doey can see how tired he is.

 

In his opinion, no kid should ever have to look like that.

 

Like he’s just come off a 12 hour shift in the dead of night. Doey knows that all too well.

 

In fact, no kid should have to live like this cat apparently had. Here may just be the best place for them, but Sam can’t keep this up forever.

 

Doey: Well, how about you ask your friends for some help?

 

DogDay: No, no. They’ve already helped enough. I don’t want to pull them here after school every day.

 

Doey: Well hey, it’s summer, so I’m sure they’ll have time, and besides…

 

The clayman smiles a little guiltily.

 

Doey: They mayyyy already be here.

 

DogDay: What!?

 

Doey: They wanted to surprise you cause they were worried!

 

Doey: I caught them sneaking around to find a way inside, but they wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, and I couldn’t tell you just in case whatever was wrong required… y’know…

 

Doey: Grounding.

 

Day huffs, sad that he put them all in such a position.

 

Doey: Anyway, I said I’d give them the signal, when it was ok to come in so…

 

He jaunts up to the window, opening it before leaning out a little farther than looks safe.

 

Doey: Signal!

 

As he stretches back into the room Day can hear shuffling outside and the front door being flung open.

 

Kicken: HONEY I’M HOME!

 

Bubba: Quiet!

 

Doey chuckles.

 

Doey: Hey look. I gotta go help your Dad with something he can’t be here to do right now.

 

Doey: Just do your best, and if you need any help, don’t be afraid to call me ok?

 

DogDay: Thanks Doey.

 

Doey: You got it DogDay. Keep on savin’ like the hero you are.

 

Day’s smile brightens at Doey’s enthusiasm. Usually he’s the one doing that, so he doesn’t get it himself often.

 

As Doey reaches the door, ready to open it for his friends, he turns back to Day.

 

Doey: And hey. I’m proud of you for helping someone like this. You’re gonna do great stuff y’know that?

 

Day nods, tears welling from the praise.

 

He can only imagine that this is what having a normal father is like.

 

Sure his father cared for him when he could, but Day knew he was only second fiddle to his job as mayor.

 

At this point, Doey felt less like a family friend, heck, less like an uncle, than he did as a surrogate father.

 

In fact, Day sort of wished that were true.

 

He rushed forward and hugged the big clay man, who eagerly returned it.

 

DogDay: Thank you so much. I love you uncle Doey.

 

Doey: Heh, been a while since I’ve heard that one.

 

Doey: Love you too kid.

 

With that, Doey opened the door and in came the avalanche.

The questions came in droves after Doey had said bye to the rest of The Critters.

 

Are you ok? You look exhausted!

 

Did they wake up? Did you sleep?

 

Are you grounded?

 

DogDay assured them as best he could, but after what happened this week, they didn’t back down easily.

 

Kicken: I decree a sleepover!

 

Bubba: That was already the plan.

 

Kicken: I have set it into legal motion!

 

Bobby: Hooray!

 

Bubba: You shouldn’t have governing power.

 

Bubba: I was elected vice leader of The Smiling Critters.

 

Kicken: Denying sleepovers is an abuse of power!

 

Bubba: I wasn’t even saying no, I was only going to say that you should ask what the others want to do before making plans.

 

Kicken: Planning takes too long when we can all agree that a sleepover is what we all want without even saying it!

 

Bubba: Carmen, do you want a sleepover?

 

Crafty: Y-Yes, that sounds nice.

 

Bubba: Elizabeth?

 

Bobby: Mhm!

 

Bubba: And I don’t mind either. You see Kicken? That is how you run a group.

 

Kicken: I suggest a coup d'état!

 

Bubba: Where did you even- DogDay is still the leader!

 

Kicken: Get this guy outta here!

 

Bubba: Hey! You’re actually starting to piss me off Kick. Just stop!

 

His voice wasn’t loud, but it was stern, and Kicken went quiet immediately.

 

He didn’t look angry for being silenced either, just guilty, which surprised Day.

 

But he really couldn’t let this go on any longer than it had.

 

DogDay: Bubba, it’s ok, I have this under control now.

 

Bubba: Are you sure? Respectfully, you look like a mess, and I didn’t want to drop more stress on you with this stupid sleepover, but I knew Kick-

 

DogDay: It’s ok. Honestly.

 

DogDay: I need a break anyway.

 

The elephant nodded.

 

DogDay: But you two also need to apologise to each other.

 

Kicken/Bubba: What!?

After just a tad bit more squabbling, they both finally settled down.

 

Kick apologised for intentionally bugging Bubba, and Bubba apologised for being overbearing.

 

They both explained their reasons, and both agreed that Day was better at the helm of the group anyway, which he appreciated.

 

Eventually, they all moved out into the living room where Kicken immediately challenged DogDay to a fighting game.

 

Eager to accept, he went to play, but Bubba suggested that they bring the cat out as well and set them on the couch to make sure Day stays in place without worrying.

 

Day thanks him for the suggestion and he and Bobby bring them out, gently resting them on their back.

 

Bobby: You’ve taken really good care of them DogDay.

 

DogDay: How can you tell?

 

Bobby: They don’t look as hungry as they did before, and their breathing is stable.

 

Bobby: Before they kinda reminded me of Crafty. How thin they were I mean.

 

Crafty: I know how hungry they must have been. You really saved them DogDay. 

 

Crafty: Just like you saved me.

 

As they set the cat down, the unicorn came over, offering a hug.

 

Day hugged her back and Bobby jumped in less than a second after.

 

DogDay: Thank you. I-I’m just doing my best.

 

Bubba: You’re best is good enough. They wouldn’t be here without you.

 

DogDay: Geez, I get it guys. You all helped too! I’m not the only part of this group!

 

Kicken: Yeah, duh, but you’re the dude that always tries his best and never lets us notice you feel like junk until Bubba or Bobby point it out.

 

DogDay: What?

 

Kicken: Yeah dude. Stop struggling all by yourself. It’s stupid.

 

Bobby: What he means Is that we’re here to help, and we want to help.

 

Bubba: So stop pretending like you couldn’t use it.

 

DogDay: O-Ok…

 

Day was a lot brighter than he had been for the past weeks, and the critters watched as that light grew even more as Kicken and he got into the best friend rivalry mode they get into anytime they compete.

 

Kicken: Yo, that move can’t be legal in competitions anymore!

 

DogDay: It’s hard to pull off, that’s why the damage is so high.

 

Kicken: I’ll show you high damage!

 

DogDay: Hey! Don’t hurt the air, what did it ever do to you!

 

Kicken: Stop dodging!

 

DogDay: Then don’t counterspam!

 

Kicken: That’s all the swordfighter types can do!

 

DogDay: You wanna change characters?

 

Kicken: Nuh uh!

 

Bobby giggled at the two while her and Crafty brushed the messy cat’s fur.

 

Sitting in the bed all week had frazzled them up a bit, and Bobby had just bought a couple hairbrushes for shorter, softer fur that she was already planning on giving DogDay for them.

 

Crafty: Do you think they’ll mind us brushing them?

 

Bobby ran the brush down the cats back which elicited a pur from them.

 

Bobby: I don’t think they mind. And if they want us to stop when they wake up then we can.

 

Bobby: I just don’t want their fur to get too tangled laying in that bed all day.

 

Crafty: Have you tried it before?

 

Bobby: The brush or the bed?

 

Crafty: The bed. When you and Kicken left that day when you found me, Day let me sleep in his bed instead of the couch.

 

Bobby: That was nice of him.

 

Crafty: Yea. I didn’t want to let him sleep out here at first, but he insisted, and I was too, well y’know…

 

Bobby: We were all tired that day. I’m happy you ended up trusting us in the end.

 

Crafty: Me too… I just hope they will.

 

Crafty: I know how hard it is living out there alone.

 

Bobby nods sadly, setting the brush down to gently grab Crafty’s hoof

 

Bobby: We’ll be there for them like we were for you. Nobody should have to go through that kind of thing.

 

Bubba nods in agreeance, whether the others see him do so or not.

 

He had his trunk deep in a medical book, making sure he memorizes every possible procedure and outcome to deal with someone in, and coming out of a coma.

 

But he was listening to them as well, and can’t help but feel for both the cat and Crafty.

 

They will stay. He knows they will, cause if they have nowhere else to go, it’s the most logical option.

The two star eyed critters switch to a racing game just as Bobby got DogDays permission to go make one of their frozen lasagnas for dinner.

 

Bubba was very barely convinced to join them just because he’d already finished his book and Day had given him puppy dog eyes, which Kicken matched to such perfection that you’d assume he was just a weirdly shaped dog himself.

 

Crafty, meanwhile, sat next to the cat, absentmindedly brushing as she watched Bubba’s surprising skill at the racing game.

 

And yet he was still 2nd.

 

Kicken: BOOM!

 

Bubba: Agh, I was that close!

 

Kicken: But not close enough boiiiii!!!

 

DogDay: You really saved that shell just for me, didn’t you Bubba.

 

Bubba: I was actually saving it for Kicken, but you were the most adequate target so close to the race's end.

 

As Kicken does what can only be described as a victory flail, Bobby comes back in with a tray.

 

Crafty: Ooo, that smells good!

 

Bobby: Thanks! I put-

 

Cough cough- cough!

 

Crafty: Ahh-!

The room goes silent as everyone looks at the cat, who’s suddenly begun breaking out into coughs, Crafty now on the other side of the couch.

 

Once they double over hacking, Day is on his paws trying to support them.

 

They try to balance themselves, but their legs give way and DogDay barely manages to catch them, laying them down in his lap as he pats their back.

 

The coughing slows down, and the cat shivers, groggily opening their eyes.

 

He raises a shaking paw to shade himself from the light when suddenly the light’s turned off.

 

An orange shape above him comes into view, backlit blue from a TV screen behind him.

 

A yellow shape hovers behind it, and behind that, blue.

 

He hurts.

 

A headache wracks his mind as he tries to process everything his body is feeling.

 

Legs like jello, something warm under his head. Soft.

 

A dog, looking worriedly down at him.

 

He tries to sit up.

 

DogDay: H- Hey wait-

 

Involuntarily, he hisses at the sudden noise even if it wasn’t loud.

 

He feels his hackles raise as he stumbles back, legs sore and uncooperative.

 

Back against… a couch, he thinks.

 

Surrounded by five critters in a dark room he’s never seen before.

 

DogDay: It’s ok, I promise. We’re not gonna hurt you.

 

He looks at them and they look back.

 

The cat curses himself for letting them see him like this, but it’s too late to put the mask of uncaring, unbothered cat back on.

 

He’s terrified and they can tell.

 

He just hopes they won’t take advantage.

 

Day sees them slump a bit, their sharp dilated pupils going back to normal.

 

In fact, DogDay hadn’t seen their pupils until now.

 

Shaped like a crescent moon, but flat and angled instead of smooth.

 

They glow like the rest of his friends’ do, but that much more here in the darkness.

 

A pale blue glow, like moonlight.

 

DogDay: I-I’m DogDay.

 

DogDay: We found you hurt outside. This is my house.

 

Day shuffles closer, still kneeling on the ground.

 

The cat leans back, but they don’t run, their claws still dug into the carpet.

 

Day notices them look across the others as well.

 

DogDay: These are my friends, you’re safe with us, I promise.

 

Kicken awkwardly waves, but the cat doesn’t respond, just staring up at him.

 

Bubba: You can understand us, yes?

 

They nod.

 

DogDay: Do you have a name?

 

The cat nods again.

 

DogDay: What… is it?

 

They open their mouth, but hesitate.

 

Instead they shake their head.

 

DogDay: Can you… not speak?

 

Again.

 

Day’s head begins to crowd.

 

Is this his fault? What did he do wrong?

 

Seeing Sam’s mounting stress, Bubba tests a theory.

 

Bubba: ‘ASL?’

 

Day looks at the way Bubba moves his hoof, confused.

 

And the cat’s eyes flash as if they understand.

 

They point at Bubba before rotating their index fingers around each other, a questioning look on their face.

 

Bubba: No. I only know a bit. Nothing significant.

 

Bubba: But you hear us fine?

 

The cat nods, nudging a closed paw forward like a knock on an invisible door.

 

Kicken: Soooo, uhhhh…

 

Bubba: It’s sign language. They’re mute.

 

The cat signs twice.

 

Bubba: He’s mute, rather.

 

Kicken: Woah… I didn’t know they came up with a secret language for that.

 

Bubba: It’s not secret. It’s just a disability.

 

Bubba: Unless said person is selectively mute, but both often use sign language regardless.

 

DogDay: What’s your name?

 

The cat merps a little at the dogs question, pointing to the others with a look of uncomfortability.

 

DogDay: Do you… want them to leave?

 

He shakes his head.

 

Bubba: You want our names first.

 

Yes.

 

Bubba: Oliver Raymond. But my friends refer to me as Bubba.

 

His eyes dart to the bear next to the lightswitch, holding the tray that now smells really good.

 

Bobby: I’m Bobby. It’s nice to finally meet you.

 

The cat doesn’t believe her. She looks too stunned.

 

The unicorn.

 

Crafty: I-I’m Crafty…

 

Quiet. She’s probably safe.

 

Unless… no this isn’t a trick. They’re all too confused looking.

 

Then last-

 

Kicken: I’m Kicken!

 

Loud…

 

Bubba notices them flinch and nudges Kick.

 

Kicken: What?

 

DogDay: Is that ok? Are you ready to tell us your name?

 

Slowly, the cat nods.

 

Bubba: T h a-no e- o d o r e.

 

Theo: ‘Theo.’

 

Bubba: Theodore. Or Theo.

 

Bubba: A pleasure to meet you. You must be confused.

 

He nods.

 

A billion questions remain in his head, but he can only ask one at a time.

 

Theo: ‘What happened?’

 

Bubba tries to decipher that for a moment before shaking his head.

 

Bubba: Sorry, I don’t know that one. My knowledge on sign language is limited to about half the alphabet and simple questions about one’s ability to hear or sign.

 

Theo points from himself towards what looks like the door outside, taking note that it looks dark out.

 

If he needs to run, he can lose them in that darkness.

 

Bubba: Where did we find you, I’d assume?

 

Yes.

 

DogDay: You were floating down the drainage ditch during a storm. That was about a week ago.

 

A week!?

 

He’s been out for a week!?

 

As if to answer, his stomach growls.

 

Embarrassed, he covers it up with his arms as if to muffle it.

 

Bobby stifles a giggle.

 

Bobby: Here. Let me dish this up before it gets cold.

 

Kicken: Phew! I was worried we wouldn’t get to eat during this whole thing!

 

Bubba grumbles at Kickens rudeness as Bobby passes plates out to everyone.

 

Theo tries to stand, but as his legs start to shake, they once again give out under him.

 

But, he’s caught by DogDay.

 

DogDay: Here. Let’s get you on the couch.

 

Stiffly, Theo shuffles towards the couch, claws dug into Day’s shoulder as he helps him along.

 

He feels helpless and weak.

 

They can do anything they wanted to him.

 

He’s off DogDay as soon as he’s over the couch.

 

A plate of lasagna is upon him and it’s gone in minutes.

 

He’s never felt this hungry before, and that’s saying something.

 

Bobby: I’m glad you liked it.

 

DogDay: Thanks Bobby. Whatever you put on this really enhances the flavor!

 

Kicken: Yeah, thanks Bobby!

 

Crafty: Thank you.

 

Bubba: Likewise.

 

They all dig in, and once they’re done, an awkward beat of silence is had.

 

Theo: …

 

Kicken: …

 

Bobby: …

 

Crafty: …

 

Kicken: So what happened to you?

 

The cat rolls his eyes.

 

Bubba: Nothing but yes or no questions are going to work here Kick.

 

Kicken: How am I supposed to know what you can and can’t translate!

 

Bubba: I said so earlier.

 

They both stop when the cat points to himself.

 

He walks his paw across the other and then points to the TV.

 

He then spreads his paws out over his eyes.

 

Then he points back to them.

 

Kicken: You were walking and got hit by a car?

 

No, not the racing game, the light.

 

Crafty: Were you going somewhere you heard about on TV?

 

No.

 

He does the same motion again, his paws covering his eyes.

 

DogDay: A… flash of light?

 

Theo nods, looking around before pointing towards the unlit fireplace and back to himself.

 

Bubba: Felt something burning maybe.

 

Another nod.

 

Kicken: Did he get hit by a meteor?

 

Bubba: Does it look like he was?

 

Before they can start again, Crafty pulls something from her bag, sliding it towards Theo.

 

Bubba: Oh, thank god.

 

The cat opens the notepad, taking a pencil from her as well.

 

With one last look at them, he gets to writing.

My name is Theodore Grambell.

 

I’ve been an orphan for as long as I can remember.

 

The kids from there weren’t nice, and the caretakers were worse.

 

At first I just tried to bear it, but it never got any better.

 

Once they started hurting me more, I knew I couldn’t stay.

 

But when I tried to leave they found me and put me back.

 

I tried a few more times, but it never worked.

 

Every time I’d be put back in the room, one of the others would hold me down while his friend cut me.

 

He said it was to get me to try harder next time.

 

So I did.

 

I hurt one of the caretakers one day, and the kid who hurt me caused a distraction.

 

We killed- trapped her in his room and he helped me climb through the window.

 

He never came with me though, and I don’t know where he is now.

 

I was alone for a couple weeks I think, eating what I could find and drinking rainwater I’d saved, but I got scared after being caught and got lost when the storm started.

 

I was trying to find somewhere safe to dry off or sleep, when everything went white and felt like my insides were burning.

 

That’s the last thing I remember before waking up.

 

If you ask, I’ve never been able to speak.

 

And I don’t remember my parents.

 

I still can’t move my legs.

 

Can I stay here please?

 

Are you going to send me back?

 

Is it ok if I can have a blanket please?

 

Can I have more lasan lasagnya lasangana?

He passes the notebook back to Crafty, Bobby looking over her shoulder as she does.

 

The others are concerned when she starts tearing up, and Crafty slides it to Bubba next.

 

He reads thoroughly, nodding his head.

 

Then to Kicken and DogDay.

 

Day looks as concerned as the rest once he finishes.

 

DogDay: I think you got hit by lightning.

 

Kicken: Holy shit!

 

Bobby: Cameron! Language!

 

Theo, having been shrunk into himself, dreading what their answers may be, flinches at the scolding.

 

Bobby: Oh! Theo, hon I’m so sorry.

 

Bobby: P-Please help yourself to more food, I’ll be right back with a warm blanket.

 

Before her tears could overtake her, she’s off, Bubba sliding the lasagna tray over to Theo, who looks apologetically towards Bobby as she disappears around the corner. 

 

She comes back soon after with the blanket Day had lain him under for the past week, draping it across his shoulders and wrapping him up.

 

She takes a split second to just hug him, which he doesn’t respond in any particular way to, just looking down in guilt.

 

He takes the notepad again.

I can leave whenever you need me to. Thank you for the food.

DogDay: N-No! You can’t- I wouldn’t just-...

 

DogDay: You can stay here. You’re not going back there.

 

DogDay: A- And if they come looking for you t-then I’ll… I’ll…

 

DogDay shakes, a low growl coming from him that stuns half the room.

 

Day has never growled before, let alone show this much anger and aggression, and Theo can tell as much from the others expressions.

 

DogDay: In fact, you’ll never have to deal with that ever again!

 

DogDay: I’ll take care of you here. You can eat whatever you want and sleep when you need to.

 

DogDay: Nobody is going to hurt you again, in fact-

 

Day puts his paw out in the center of the semi circle the group was sat in.

 

DogDay: I’m making you a Smiling Critter here and now! You’ll never be alone again and we’ll always be here for you.

 

Bobby nods, placing her paw on his.

 

Next is Kicken, then Crafty, then Bubba.

 

It took them almost no time to think before they concluded that this was for the best.

 

And now they look at Theo expectantly.

 

He doesn’t know what this is.

 

He doesn’t know why DogDay is so… passionate about this.

 

He doesn’t know why on earth he would just let him live here, and-

 

He doesn’t know why they care so much about him.

 

They just met him…

 

…

 

Slowly, tears in his eyes, he places his paw on theirs.

 

Soon enough, Bobby is bawling again, the whole lot of them pulled into a group hug.

 

Once he’s free, Theo says thank you to each of them individually, and Day answers his question about what The Smiling Critters even are.

 

A group of friends; heroes, who work to make the world a better place.

 

Theo can’t help but be thankful for them.

 

That’s when Crafty asks a question that gets Kicken very excited.

 

Crafty: Should he have a name? Like the rest of us?

 

Kicken: Aw yeah! The names!

 

Bubba: Wait. He may not even want a nickname.

 

Kicken: Ugh… You’re no fun…

 

But Theo shakes his head, the first smile they seen on him softly spread across his face,

 

DogDay: You don’t mind?

 

Kicken: Yes! Ok, ok, ok.

 

Kicken: What abouuuut…

 

Kicken: Naaaa- uh, NappyCat.

 

Kicken: Cause of how long he was asleep for.

 

Bubba: No, Kicken. That’s in bad taste. Horrible even.

 

Kicken: Whaddya mean? My nicknames taste fine!

 

Bubba: He was in a coma.

 

Theodore shakes his head, signing just two letters.

 

Theo: ‘Ok’

 

Bubba: Really?

 

Kicken: He’s fine with it?

 

Excited, Kick gears up to say I told you so, before Bobby cuts in.

 

Bobby: How about… CatNap?

 

Bobby: I think it flows better. And it matches DogDay.

 

Bobby: You cared for him this whole time, so I think it fits. What do you think Theo?

 

He smiles back, giving her a thumbs up.

 

DogDay: Great! That works great!

 

Kicken: Yeah, new member!

 

Crafty: W-Welcome in…

 

Bubba: We’re happy to have you.

 

Bobby: I’m so so glad you woke up!

 

Overwhelmed.

 

Theo was overwhelmed, but it wasn’t bad.

 

Tears brimming in the corner of his eyes weren't from pain or fear for once.

 

He wasn’t scared, at least not nearly as much as before.

 

He wasn’t alone.

A few weeks later, CatNap slowly regained his ability to walk.

 

With Doey’s help, Day convinced his parents to build another tower for a homeless friend, with the exception that this had to be the last one, that Day would work off the price of materials, and that his father would only be paying for the land in the long run.

 

As construction continued on CatNaps new house, he stayed with Day in his room.

 

Because of how dusty the old mattress was, it was put up in the attic again.

 

Day spent the first few nights on the couch, but one night after CatNap was done teaching him sign language for the day, he convinced the exhausted dog to follow him to his room.

 

He was working so hard to be able to understand him, and CatNap wanted him to sleep well for once.

 

So when he pulled Day into the bed, Nap climbed right in with him to ease any worries of where he’d sleep.

 

Too tired to question it, Day just let it happen.

 

By the time they were asleep, he was holding his new friend close as the other purred contently.

 

DogDay never had a night of bad sleep for the rest of the year.

 

.

Notes:

Niceu! I Tried To Make That Red Smoke Portion Read Better, But I Had No Idea How To Put Into Words The Universe Catching Something That Should Be Retconned, And Trying To Patch It While It Was Happening. Zalgo It Is I Guess. (Also, As Far As I Know, Feeding An Unconscious Person Is Nigh Impossible. Just Calk It Up To Cartoon Logic And Get Any IRL KO's To The Hopsital Please '0_0)

Up Next, The Final Part Of The Most Important Friendgroup!

I Decided To Put Hoppy And Picky Together, And My Overview For Them Isn't My Favorite Of The Bunch, But This Is The Final Portion Of Childhood Backstory For Our Main Eight, And I Really Wanna Pull It Together With A Nice Bow.

So Here's Looking Forward To Intermission 1 Part 5: Hoppy And Kicken (And Bobby ;3)'s First Meeting, And Subsequent Chaos. Also Picky Is There Too, Hangin' With Nap And Watchin' The Show.

Chapter 5: PROLOGUE: “The Most Important Friendgroup Reality Will Ever Know: Part 5”

Summary:

A great evil returns from Kicken's past...

Notes:

We've Made It To The Last Part Of Teh Prologue!

I Hope You Liked Seeing The Critters Personalities Form As They All Come Together Into One Group, Plus A Little Nightmare Critters In There For Good Measure!

Also, Due To A Specific Assholes Inclusion Here, I'll Be Putting That "Implied NonCon" Tag Into Use Even More Than I Had In Crafty's Day One, So Watch Out For That.

Either Way, I Hope The Final Inclusion Of The Last Two Smiling Critters Is Satisfying, And I Hope You Enjoy The Chapter! ^w^

The first year of highschool was rough for The Critters.

 

Bubba now lived on his own after an argument with his parents about moving again.

 

Bobby’s parents had finally divorced, and something else had happened since then that had seemed to slowly drain the happiness from her as the days went by.

 

The whole last month of middle school, Crafty was living with DogDay, terrified out of her mind after her tower was broken into.

 

DogDay was having a much better time sleeping with CatNap around, even going to his new house when nights got tough, but his parents became even more distant, Doey having to sneak around and get Day food after being fired by his parents for failing to inform them of the whole CatNap situation.

 

Day felt horrible for Doey, scared of the legal backlash if he was caught, and on top of that, Crafty was afraid of those intruders being her Pere’s debt collectors trying to scare her out.

 

They didn’t even steal anything, so Bubba was looking into it to ease her mind.

 

Still, Day worried about her.

 

Worried about Bobby and whatever was happening behind those eyes which looked far too tired and dull to be hers.

 

He worried about CatNaps chronic coughing fits, and how avoidant the cat is when they happen, not allowing Day to come close enough to try and help.

 

He even worried about Bubba, who said he was doing fine for the most part, the most honest of The Critters, yet Day knows he must have some pain inside that the dog can help tend to.

 

But of all The Critters that Day cared so much for, he was happy that his best friend wasn’t doing too bad.

 

Save for one little problem that had wormed its way back into the rooster's life from all the way back in elementary school.

Kicken: DAY!!!

 

Kick ran up from behind, shocking both Bubba and the girls.

 

As DogDay turned around he was met with… well, not what he expected.

 

Kicken ran up to them, terrified and covered in cream.

 

Lemon Meringue actually, as he could smell.

 

CatNap took a step back behind DogDay to avoid stray globs of the pie filling from hitting him, thus ruining the hour he spent tending to his fur this morning.

 

He mewled unhappily at the bird, but Kicken was a little preoccupied gasping for air.

 

DogDay: … Kicken, why do you look like a living pie?

 

Bubba: I swear, if you’ve filled your pool with pie filling for a stupid video…

 

Kicken: N-No! I- T-This wasn’t me!

 

Taking almost no caution around the sopping bird, Crafty pokes at the pie filling and tastes it.

 

Crafty: Oh, was it your new rival again?

 

Kicken looks back in confusion.

 

Kicken: How can you tell?

 

The unicorn takes another dollop and holds it up to him.

 

Crafty: Lemon.

 

Kicken: HUH!?

 

Kicken flinches back in horror, then looking down at himself.

 

He shudders.

 

He. Hates. Lemon.

 

And now he’s covered…

 

In lemon.

 

Meringue.

 

His eyes go black as he comedically feints.

 

Bubba sighs, internally counting to one, two, three-

 

Four, before Kicken gasps, shooting up and running towards the gym, even more distraught than before.

 

The rest follow.

After their first week this had become the norm for the group.

 

Wake up, meet in the courtyard, walk towards their first class, see the results of the prank war all over the poor rooster, and watch him avoid his rival the rest of the day.

 

Honestly, It was comedic at times, a bit of lighthearted fun to help get them through the rough days, but it wasn’t enough to hold back all the stress.

 

For that, they had each other.

 

Kicken: I need to find out where she’s getting all this food stuff!

 

A now freshly showered Kicken comes out of the gym locker room, meeting the rest of the boys in line for warm ups.

 

Kicken: Last time it was pancakes and syrup. SYRUP! Do you know how difficult syrup is to get outta feathers!?

 

DogDay: Look on the bright side. You smelled really nice that whole day!

 

Kick deadpans at him, CatNap getting a similar treatment as he snickers from behind.

 

Bubba: She clearly must be getting them from culinary class. Perhaps you can just inform them of the illicit use of their products and they will make sure it doesn’t happen again.

 

Kicken: But then she’ll just go back to what it was before!

 

DogDay: What’s that? You’ve come back covered in food for a while now.

 

Grumbling at the unpleasant memory, Kicken looks away.

 

Kicken: Silly string and snowballs.

 

Bubba: Snowballs? At this time of year?

 

Kicken: I dunno how she does it! It’s like she’s a living cartoon character!

 

Kicken: She has perfect comedic timing, she always one ups her last prank, she’s just… URRGH!!!

 

Bubba: Ah, so you aren’t mad about the pranks. You’re jealous of her skill.

 

Kicken: N-No!

 

CatNap: ‘He probably has a crush on her.’

 

Bubba: ‘Most likely. He talks about her quite often, doesn’t he?.’

 

Kicken: Hey! You know I can’t understand you that well!

 

DogDay stifles a laugh, but reigns it in.

 

DogDay: Don’t tease him guys. They’ve been like this since elementary school.

 

DogDay: She was arguably more ruthless back then.

 

Bubba: How so? It seems they stopped squabbling before I properly met her.

 

DogDay: Well…

 

Kicken: Dude, she was evil!

 

Kicken: I beat her in a race one time and she never let me hear the end of it.

 

Kicken: She’d challenge me to every single sport and game in the playground, and anytime she beat me it’d be her whole personality for the next week!

 

Kicken: Constantly running past and scaring me in the halls after she won the next race, blocking me in the halls like a jerk after she beat me at basketball.

 

Kicken: Not to mention…

 

DogDay/Kicken: Dodgeball.

 

The two looked horrified at the memory, and Bubba could only imagine what rubber devastation was unleashed upon them all those years ago.

 

Bubba: Sounds tragic.

 

CatNap: ‘Tragically hilarious.’

 

Bubba smirks, but it is unnoticed by Kick.

 

As Kick now has much more to worry about.

 

As warm-ups conclude, the girls locker room doors swing open dramatically.

 

There stands a lime green rabbit, dodgeball in hand as a sly grin spreads across her smug face.

 

Her lightning bolt eyes catch Kickens, and he can't help but shudder in both fear and anger, neither emotion quite winning over.

 

DogDay: Uh oh.

 

CatNap: ‘Is that her?’

 

DogDay: Yeah. She went to another middle school, so Bubba never met her, and since this is your first year of school, you wouldn’t have seen her either.

 

Bubba: Ah, I think I recognise her now. She’s grown quite a bit since then though. No wonder even Kicken can’t out perform her.

 

Kicken: Dude, she’s gonna kill me!!!!

 

The rabbit walks over to the boys side of the gym, dribbling the dodgeball on the ground menacingly.

 

Jasmine: Bring your friends over for the show?

 

Kicken: N-No! We always have gym together! You just never see them cause you’re always chasing me!

 

Kicken: Y-You’d think you were obsessed with me or something!

 

Jasmine: Hmmph!

 

She looks away, blushing at that, but only cause she was put on the spot.

 

The stupid bird is trying to rile her up, and she’s honestly happy he does, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

 

She’s just happy she hasn’t scared him off yet. No way she’d make it through the year without a rival, and Jenny has already made it clear that she’s not one for sports.

 

Luckily, today is her favorite day.

 

Jasmine: Well, guess what chicken butt!

 

Jasmine: Today’s dodgeball day!

 

The dread returns to the two star eyed critters, the other two looking on unsurprised.

 

Jasmine: Yep! Just asked the coach. Get ready to get rocked!

 

She runs off, joining her team just as the coach comes out.

 

Kicken: DogDay?

 

DogDay: Yeah Kick.

 

Kicken: I left my will in my locker, can you get it?

 

DogDay: Not if she kills me first.

 

Bubba and CatNap just look at each other while the other two blubber away.

Soon enough they’re all lined up against the back wall as the teams are set.

 

Kicken, next to Day, who’s next to CatNap.

 

The Coach picks the team captains.

 

As usual, it’s Jasmine and Kicken.

 

Kicken: Lady’s first.

 

Kicken folds his arms, already sure who he’d pick for his team.

 

Jasmine: Thank’s birdbrain. Now lets see who to add to my army of dodgeball destruction.

 

She scans the line of critters.

 

Jasmine: Hmmmm…  Jenny!

 

The tall pig with saucer-like pupils silently steps towards her.

 

It’s a given that Jaz would pick the strongest girl in the whole grade, Kicken thinks.

 

She always does.

 

Though both Jennifer and Jasmine knew they were a power team, and with Jaz being her team captain, Jenny wouldn’t be forced to participate in a class she really didn’t like.

 

Kicken: DogDay.

 

Almost immediately after, Kicken picks his go to.

 

Jaz knows that they’re best friends, and it’d be real mean to separate them.

 

His other friends however…

 

Jasmine: Elephant dude!

 

Kicken: What?

 

Jasmine: You heard me!

 

Kicken: You don’t even know his name!

 

Bubba: Bubba.

 

He just walks over to Jasmines side, to a look of betrayal on Kickens face.

 

Kicken: Dude!

 

Bubba: It’s just the rules Kick.

 

Kicken ruffles his feathers, but turns back to the line, thinking.

 

DogDay: Oh! Pick CatNap!

 

Kicken: Ok, ok. . Nap, c’mere.

 

Kick doesn’t know how good he is at sports, but he knows he can’t deny Day when he’s excited.

 

Too many days of sad puppy Day breaking his heart have taught him better.

 

The cat slinks right up next to DogDay again, and Kicken can only hope they don’t make themselves a two for one target doing that the whole game.

 

Jasmine: Next… How about Bobby?

 

The red bear perks up, having been staring off into space for half the class.

 

Bobby: M-Me?

 

Jasmine: Yeah girl, get up here!

 

Bobby, runs up to her new team with a small smile.

 

Bobby: Thanks.

 

Kicken: Hey! You’re just trying to steal all my friends, aren’t you!

 

Jasmine: Huh? I didn’t even know you knew Bobby.

 

Kicken: Oh, c’mon! We’re like, best friends! I’ve known her since elementary school!

 

Kicken: You’ve known her since elementary school!

 

Jaz looks between the two before a powerful look or recollection hits her like a truck.

 

Jasmine: Lizzy!?

 

Bobby: Y-Yeah, that’s me.

 

Jasmine couldn’t believe her ears.

 

This was Lizzy? The popular girl she was always trying to impress back in elementary?

 

The girl she kept begging to come watch her matches against Kicken?

 

She didn’t even know she knew them!

 

Like, sure, they had hung out once or twice when Jaz had been looking for Kicken, but she thought Kick was always too busy doing their whole superhero thing or whatever, helping her with something.

 

Jasmine never knew much about that, always being too caught up in her world to know anything more than that, but now she…

 

Now she feels kinda stupid.

 

Bobby was always part of their group wasn’t she.

 

Her foot thumping on the ground, she tries to wave it off along with the embarrassed blush.

 

Jasmine: Well, nice to see you again! Welcome to the team.

 

Bobby: Thank you!

 

Kicken had had enough of losing critters to this truly evil, conniving rabbit.

 

His next choice was obvious.

 

Kicken: Crafty.

 

The unicorn almost didn’t notice her name being called, but ran up soon after.

 

Not skipping a beat, Jaz kept going, but with no more of Kicks friends to choose, she had to start thinking tactically.

 

Jasmine: Mako!

 

A shark critter who’s definitely got an arm on her from what Jasmine can remember.

 

Kicken: Simon.

 

Simone: Dude, it’s Simone! “Simon” is a fuckin’ nerd name.

 

Kicken: Whatever.

 

The dragon walks over and stands next to Crafty.

 

Jasmine: Allister.

 

The alligator shrugs, walking over and sitting down for some reason.

 

Down to the last one, Kicken chooses the obvious.

 

Kicken: Uh…

 

If he could remember her name.

 

Baba: Bailey.

 

Jasmine: Who’s forgettin’ names now, huh?

 

Simone: Pfft, course Baba got picked last.

 

The sheep elbows him on the way over, standing next to him and Crafty.

 

Jasmine: Ok team, let’s show em what for!

 

Mako: What?

 

Bubba: It’s a slang term. To show someone “what for”, is to basically give them a significant enough reason to n-

 

Mako: -for.

 

She grins toothily at Bubba.

 

He deadpans at her cutting him off, but just shakes his head

 

Meanwhile on team Kicken’s side, the bird is fretting in the corner.

 

Kicken: Ok, ok. Peptalk, you got this.

 

Simone: Bro does not got this.

 

DogDay: Hey, it’s ok Kick. We can do this!

 

DogDay: We’ve been through a lot since elementary!

 

Kicken: Yeah. Yeah, we can do this! We just gotta work together and not die!

 

Simone: Veeeery inspiring. I’m feelin’ hella fuckin’ pepped right now drumsticks.

 

Kicken grumbles.

 

Kicken: No, really. We can win this lets just-...

 

Looking out over his team, he notices Crafty is missing.

 

Kicken: Hey, where’s..?

 

DogDay: Crafty? Did anyone see where she went?

 

Simone: Eh, I’ll go look for her. Can’t have gon f-

 

Suddenly, he’s stopped by Baba, as she grabs his wrist.

 

She sneers at him as they seem to have a silent dialogue, Simone tugging but Baba not letting go.

 

Eventually, he gives up.

 

Simone: Whatever. She probably went to go piss or some shit. Lets just get it over with and own these losers.

 

CatNap: Rrrnn.

 

CatNap: ‘Some of those losers are my friends.’

 

Simone just stares at him, confused and slightly amused.

 

Simone: Uh, Dogmat? I think your cat’s tryna’ put a curse me.

 

CatNap: ‘You want a curse, you fuckin-’

 

CatNap growls, Day pulling him away from a soon-to-be fight.

 

Day didn’t particularly like Simone, but he didn’t think anybody deserved or needed a fight right now.

 

And he didn’t want CatNap hurt obviously.

 

Jasmine: Yo, you guys done?

 

Kicken: U-uh yeah! Get ready to meet-!

 

Kicken: Your uh… maker!

 

Jasmine just grinned back.

It was a massacre.

 

It started fine enough. Baba unenthusiastically tossed a ball towards Bubba, who caught it, to his surprise.

 

As she planned, she walked over to the sidelines and started scrolling her phone.

 

Bubba, now ever so slightly excited that he was doing good in a sport for once, aimed his ball for DogDay.

 

He honed his unparalleled concentration, determining the offset of his throw as Day moved, almost in slow motion, to pick up a new ball.

 

He reeled back preparing to throw his perfect shot, when-

 

Donk!

 

A rubber ball eclipsed the left of his vision for a split second before it rocketed into the side of his head, bouncing off with enough force to fly back across the court.

 

Bubba: Ow.

 

Simone, having just thrown said ball full force, went from the stance of a professional pitcher, to leaning back and laughing his ass off.

 

Though it swiftly gets caught in his throat as he has to dodge two balls Mako had thrown his way before he scampers off.

 

Mako: Yeah, you better run pretty boy!

 

Kick and Jasmine were solely focused on downing each other, the latter out for blood, and the former up for keeping it in his body.

 

Day just managed to dodge a stray ball meant for Simone when he scooped another off the ground and went for Jennifer.

 

With surprising speed, she ducked the ball, launching hers at Day who jumped back in shock.

 

Simone grabbed it and pushed Day aside, throwing hard at Mako.

 

Simone: Move outta my shot mutt!

 

The ball barely managed to hit Mako in the legs as she was focused on grabbing another ball.

 

She groaned, in annoyance and pointed at Simone with a dangerous challenging sneer, complimented by her sharp shark teeth.

 

Meanwhile, Bobby was looking between Simone and Day in fury.

 

Having stood back most of the time, she had ahold of a ball already, but couldn’t find a safe moment to throw it until Simone had pushed DogDay quite rudely out of his way, leaving him open for the bear’s wrath.

 

She hits him square in the nose, causing him to rebound back and slide across the floor, groaning.

 

Bobby: Be careful whose friends you shove, jerk!

 

Jasmine: Yeah, nice goin’ Bobby!

 

The rabbit pats her shoulder supportively after parrying a ball from Kicken, causing him to stumble for another.

 

Bobby: Uh, t-thanks…

 

Up close, Bobby saw that Jasmine's fur was a really nice shade of green with a darker hue sprinkled in as it reached up towards her ears.

 

Her sharp lightning bolt pupils seemed to flicker like thunder behind clouds, and her grin almost seemed to flash with that energy.

 

Bobby didn’t realize she was staring until Jasmine looked away quickly and pulled her down.

 

Kicken had made it to the ball in all that time, and wasn’t gonna pass up the shot.

 

Jasmine: I would have said duck, but I actually think he’s a chicken.

 

Bobby giggled a little, and Jasmine was off.

 

Stunned, Bobby just stood there at the edge of her side staring at the rabbit until-

 

DogDay: Boop.

 

A rubber ball gently nudged her shoulder.

 

Stunned, Bobby looks to the right to find DogDay with a big smile on his face.

 

DogDay: You look happy.

 

Bobby: I, u-um…

 

DogDay: Well I’m happy for you!

 

DogDay smiles as he boops her a few more times with the ball for good measure.

 

She blushes as she walks over to the sidelines, unsure what he meant by that.

 

On the way, she finds two critters she hasn’t seen all game.

 

Bobby: When did you get out?

 

Allister shrugs.

 

CatNap: ‘I couldn’t manage to hit him, and I have weak arms.’

 

CatNap: ‘So we called a truce.’

 

Allister: Don’t wanna play.

 

Bobby: Oh. Ok.

 

Bobby: Well, you two have fun.

 

She walks past as CatNap awkwardly sits, the gator just looking off into the distance like the room around him wasn’t even real.

 

As she makes it to the end of the bench, she sits down between Bubba and Baba, noticing a couple missing members.

 

Bobby: Where did Simone go?

 

Bubba: To look for Crafty, he’d said.

 

Baba: He what!?

 

They both jump at Baba’s borderline yell.

 

Baba: That motherfucker- he’s gonna get himself in trouble.

 

She stands up in a huff, clearly pissed.

 

Baba: Where did he go!?

 

Stunned, Bubba is about to speak before she interrupts him, already walking off.

 

Baba: Y’know what, nevermind! I’m gonna turn a corner dramatically and find him anyway.

 

With that, she’s out the gym doors and down the hallways out of sight cursing under her breath all the way.

 

Mako just shrugs, taking a bite of a granola bar.

 

Mako: Shesh jusht like thaht. Iht aihn’t you.

 

Mh. Is all Bubba responds with as he continues to watch the game, mind now half occupied trying to decode what just happened despite Mako’s reassurance.

 

Back on the battlefield, both Day and Kick find a moment in the barrage of balls to launch a few of their own. Four to be exact.

 

Jasmine manages to hop over two, surprising Kick and Day both, but as they throw the others, she’s caught off guard.

 

Just then, Jennifer swoops in front of her, blocking the balls with her own, so hard that one bounces off the wall, and the other rockets towards the stands.

 

Bubba, Bobby and Mako all flinch out of the way, the latters granola bar tragically falling from the wrapper, but the ball lands with a loud thunk in the leathered claws of Allister, who justs stares ahead, still lost in his own world.

 

As he puts the ball under his head and reclines, Mako mourns her loss.

 

Mako: My granola bar…

 

Back in the game Jaz catches Bobby’s eyes from the bench and flashes her a smile.

 

Jasmine: Watch this!

 

She deftly scoops up two balls in a spin, throwing one as a feint before skidding to a stop and jumping in the air, throwing the ball downwards.

 

The first ball flies past Day, stopping him in his tracks before the second bounces off the floor and basically uppercuts him.

 

Kicken: Noooo!

 

DogDay: Never forget my sacrifice!

 

Day calls back, hand outstretched dramatically as he backs up towards the bench.

 

Kicken: You’ll pay for that, you stupid bouncy rabbit!

 

He starts to stomp towards her, before Jennifer looms from behind.

 

Kicken nearly clucks in fear, the much taller pig looking down at him with an uncomfortably neutral expression.

 

Jasmine: You’ll have to get through her first.

 

They’re gonna kill me!

 

He starts to back up before getting an idea.

 

Dashing to the left, he avoids Jennys ball, scooping one up and throwing it towards the coach.

 

Kicken: Freecourt!

 

Confused, Jaz picks up an extra ball, thinking the bird had just dug his own grave.

 

The two powerhouses start running after him just as Kick had planned.

 

He dodges another ball, it flying just pass his head before he grabs one off the floor and throws it at the ground below his claws.

 

It bounces back behind him and-

 

Kicken: Yes!

 

He managed to get Jennifer!

 

Jennifer: Sorry.

 

She says as Jaz rockets past to avenge her.

 

Now out, Jenny goes to sit down next to Mako.

 

Mako: Nice goin’ girl. You got some skill.

 

The pig gives a small smile past her tusks, sitting down silently as Mako starts to yap away at her.

 

Jasmine meanwhile picks up another two balls.

 

This dude just won’t stay still!

 

Now down even more ammo, Kicken spins around to Jasmine after grabbing on of his own

 

She’s too late to notice the one in his hands before she’s thrown one of hers.

 

It bounces off the other and shoots right back at her, but she’s just fast enough to jump up, blocking it downwards with her own as she basically leapfrogs over it.

 

Kicken, now slid across the ground on his back, finds himself in the corner, ball up to defend himself as Jaz stands over him, ready to end this game for good.

 

She reels back as Kicken cowers in fear, and then-

 

Thonk!

 

A ball gently bounces off her, rolling listlessly away.

 

She turns around to find CatNap.

 

Jasmine: W-What?

 

Jasmine: B-But you-

 

She looks at Allister.

 

Jasmine: But he-...

 

Allister takes the ball he was resting on, holds it up, and lets it bonk off his snout.

 

Kicken: Heh. Hahaha!

 

Kicken gets up as Jaz had stepped back in shock.

 

He runs over to CatNap.

 

Kicken: That was awesome! You came back outta nowhere dude!!!

 

The rest of his team comes up, celebrating their victory.

 

Day and Kick continue to compliment CatNaps heroic return and Bubba even admits it was a surprisingly skillful play, standing on the very edge of the field to appear “out.”

 

Meanwhile, Bobby walks up to Jasmine with Jennifer close behind.

 

Her shocked expression is almost immediately replaced with a smile.

A few halls away is a small storage closet.

 

Simone knew of it from day one as a place he can sneak a few cigs, as there was a vent in its roof, and if he’s lucky, the janitor leaves half a pack there.

 

Dumb fucker is tryna quit he guesses. May as well bum a free smoke if they don’t want it.

 

He sneakily closes the door behind him, fixing his jacket and slicking back his hair in case he messed it up.

 

He walks down the hall without a care in the world, still 15 minutes till next class.

 

Even if someone catches him, he could just say he was takin’ a piss.

 

As if to prove him wrong, someone rounds the hallway corner.

 

Baba.

 

Simone’s face twitches in frustration. Too close to the closet he thinks.

 

Simone: You skippin’ too Babs- Urgh!

 

She grabs him by the collar of his jacket and pushes him against the wall.

 

She’s a bit shorter than him, but the glare in her skull shaped eyes isn’t for show.

 

Simone: Shit, girl just can’t keep your hands off me can you? Bet you like it rough, don-

 

She grabs him by the snout hard, closing it painfully around his tongue.

 

Baba: I’m gonna let you keep your tongue if you answer one question.

 

Baba: No bullshit, or I take your nuts with it. You fucking understand me Smoke?

 

He nods, clearly not happy with how pissed she suddenly is.

 

She shoves his head back, letting his snout go as he rubs his jaw.

 

Baba: Where is she?

 

Simone: The shit? Who? Don’t play the fuckin’ pronoun game with me, girl.

 

Baba: You know who, you dickshit. Carmen fucking Tores; the girl I’ve told you to stop harassing!

 

Simone: Couldn’t find her.

 

He tries walking past, but as his tail flicks up, she nabs it with her hoof and stomps down hard.

 

Simone: Agh, you bitch! What the fuck’s you’re deal!

 

Baba: Bullshit.

 

He glances behind her for the smallest of moments, but she catches it.

 

She lets his tail go.

 

Baba: You go back and you fucking stay there, you understand?

 

Simone: Yeah, sure mom, but if you’re mommy then I’m sure as shit daddy, you got that?

 

Baba: Fuck off.

 

Simone: Heh. Hate to see him go, loooove to watch him leave!

 

He’s gone soon after.

 

Fucker always has to have the last word.

 

Baba turns around to the end of the hall.

 

He looked past her for a second, something on her left.

 

She slowly walks down, hoping for once Simone was telling the truth.

 

But then she hears crying.

The next day, The Critters head to lunch, Bobby looking a lot brighter than she had in the past few days.

 

Bubba was, of course, happy to see that change, but still worried as to what had caused it.

 

The divorce had been hard on her, yes, but that more recent pain came suddenly.

 

He hopes whichever parent she was with at the time hadn’t done something to make that happen.

 

As they all sit down, Day looks around worriedly.

 

CatNap: ‘What’s wrong?’

 

DogDay: Where’s Kicken?

 

Bobby: I hope he didn’t come down with whatever Crafty has.

 

Bubba: I doubt so. They had to leave early yesterday, and as such she was just getting sick.

 

Bubba: We were all with them as well, and therefore it would be statistically reasonable for all of us to have gotten sick if that was somehow the case.

 

DogDay: Still, I’m worried.

 

Jasmine: Doncha worry a bit! I bet he’s just a liiiittle preoccupied.

 

From behind day appears Jasmine and Jennifer.

 

Jasmine: Mind if we sit here?

 

DogDay: Sure! Go ahead.

 

Bubba: I’m assuming you were the cause of Kickens latest disappearance?

 

Jasmine: Yyyyep! And his latest wardrobe!

 

DogDay: You pranked him again?

 

Jasmine: Uhhhh, noooo?

 

The doors to the cafeteria slam open presenting a yellow rooster with fury in his white eyes.

 

As it turns out, he only happened to be yellow because he was covered in what looked like a gallon of egg yolk.

 

Which matched quite nice with the bag of unused feathers Jaz had snagged from the archery class.

 

Kicken: YOU!

 

Students snickered as Kicken ran up to the table, finding all his friends where they should be, save for two intruders.

 

Jasmine: Hey, I’m happy you found my send-off gift!

 

Kicken: S- Wha-... Send-Off gift!?

 

Kicken: I’m covered in- in- ME!

 

Kicken: Not like me as in ME, but me as in, like, OTHER BIRDS!!!

 

Bubba: You eat omelets for breakfast every week, Kicken. Don’t be spooked by a little cannibalism.

 

Kicken: This is different!

 

Kicken: Eggs are eggs, and they can either grow up to be some random gal or dude or grow… sideways I guess, and end up as some gal or dudes breakfast.

 

Kicken: But we’re not shower products!

 

Kicken: We’re not the giant jug of sports drink you dump on the MVP at the end of the game!

 

Kicken: When I eat eggs I treat them with the respect they deserve by shoving them down my gob and forgetting they were ever babies!

 

Bubba: They weren’t even-

 

Kicken: This-!

 

He motions at his yolk dripping state.

 

Kicken: Is unforgettable!

 

Jasmine: Hell yeah it is, and that’s the point!

 

Jasmine: It’s a send-off!

 

She puts her paw out to shake, and confused, Kicken just stares at it.

 

Jasmine: No more prank war. No more rivalry.

 

Jasmine: I shall gladly sacrifice my win in order to be you’re friend.

 

She says so in such a faux selfless way that Kicken has to stutter a bit before his brain restarts.

 

Kicken: Friend? Friend!?

 

He looks to DogDay who just shrugs, nodding towards her as if Kicken should really agree to this.

 

Kicken: What?

 

Bubba just nods back when Kicken meets his eyes.

 

Kicken: B-Bobby?

 

The bear isn’t even paying much attention, kinda blankly staring at Jasmine like some enthralled puppy who’d seen a squirrel.

 

He looks back to Jaz who’s expression had softened into something genuine.

 

Jasmine: Really, you guys are cool, and after you beat me again yesterday, I think I’m ready to call it quits on the whole prank war thing.

 

Kicken looks away for a moment before slowly raising his wing, but not quite meeting her paw just yet.

 

Kicken: Just… one condition.

 

She tilts her head questioningly, her big ears listing to the side, which Bobby finds so adorable that she suddenly has to look straight down into the table to hide her blush.

 

Kicken: The rivalry stays.

 

Jasmine: Really? I thought you hated that?

 

Kicken: No, just that you always trashed me like you had something to prove.

 

Jasmine: Cause I did.

 

Jasmine: Back in elementary, none of the others wanted to hang out with me cause I always beat them at games.

 

Jasmine: When I went easy, they said I thought they weren’t good enough or something.

 

Jasmine: It got to a point that nobody even tried anymore.

 

Jasmine: But you never backed down and always tried your best, which is why I kept coming to you when I was bored.

 

Jasmine: Middle school was hell, and anytime I wanted to do something the only chance I’d get is when I saw someone being bullied.

 

Jasmine: Then I’d be able to let loose, y’know?

 

Jasmine: But it was never for fun.

 

Jasmine: With you, it is.

 

Kicken stared, dumbfounded at the truth of how this all started.

 

He’d never thought of it that way, but he couldn’t help but agree that it’s been fun.

 

He’d never had something like this rivalry with someone else, and though it was annoying and scary at times, he knew under all that he had fun.

 

Even after he’d lose he would be smiling soon enough, thinking of how to best her next time.

 

He always wanted next time.

 

Jasmine: The first few times I tried to start something this year you seemed spooked.

 

Jasmine: It had been a while and I could tell I caught you off guard, so I wanted to… motivate you s’more, y’know?

 

Jasmine: So I pulled a little prank, goaded you on, and then we were playing soccer again like old times.

 

Kicken: Yeah…

 

Kicken: And I never even pranked you back this whole time!

 

Kicken: Second condition!

 

Kicken: I get one free prank!

 

Jasmine: Psh, do your worst birdbrain!

 

And with that, they shook on it.

 

Jaz came back with a bit of egg on her paw which she “ bleh” ’d at.

 

Kicken: And you’ll neeeever know when it’s comin’.

 

She challengingly grinned at him for a few moments before he scooped a bit of egg from his feathers and plopped it right on her head.

 

…

 

And they both started laughing.

One trip to the restrooms later, the two were de-egged and de-warred.

 

Sitting down again at the table, Jasmine finds Jenny signing to CatNap.

 

CatNap: ‘And so you started learning yourself?’

 

She nods back.

 

Jennifer: ‘They made fun of my accent, so I jus stopped talkin’ altogether when I finally got a hang of it.’

 

Jennifer: ‘I’m lucky my ma told me bout signin’ or I’d probably just went quiet fr good.’

 

CatNap: ‘Question. Do you still hear your accent in your head when you sign?’

 

Jennifer: ‘Yep. I betcha most folks do If they had a voice forehand.’

 

Jennifer: ‘Prolly messes with speech patterns too, thinkin what you’d say but sayin’ It different.’

 

CatNap: ‘You’re doing well. I can still understand you fine.’

 

Jenny nods appreciatiely.

 

Jennifer: ‘D’you have one? A voice in yer head I mean?’

 

CatNap: ‘I… think so? It sounds more like the voice of someone I used to know.’

 

CatNap: ‘He- we weren’t really friends, but he helped me out a lot and every time he did all I could think about was his voice and what he was doing.’

 

CatNap: ‘Saying, I mean. Sorry.’

 

CatNap looked conflicted, and Jenny could tell that she prolly shouldn’t push the topic.

 

She has a feelin’ whoever that was wasn’t really a good person.

 

Jasmine: Whatcha talkin’ bout Jenny?

 

Jennifer: Signin’.

 

Jasmine: Cool!

 

She plops down right next to the pig.

 

Jasmine: Oh! I haven’t introduced you yet, have I?

 

Jennifer: Nah, it’s fi-

 

But Jaz was already talking, Jennifer having been too quiet to be heard.

 

Jasmine: This is Jenny!

 

She throws up jazz hands like the tall pig was a new car.

 

Jasmine: She’s in culinary and makes the best cookies! We gotta share some now that were all on the same team.

 

DogDay: Cookies sound amazing! Welcome to the Smiling Critters Jenny!

 

Jennifer: Thanks…

 

She shyly smiles, not too happy ‘bout bein’ put on the spot if you ask ‘er.

 

S’fine though. She may as well get used to havin’ a few extra Jasmine’s ‘round.

 

She was able to get used to always bein’ her partner in every class. They can’t be that much worse after all.

Jasmine: The Smiling Critters? That's your superhero group I think?

 

Kicken cringed ever so slightly.

 

Kicken: Maybe superheroes was a biiiit of a stretch, but-

 

DogDay: Mhm! That’s us!

 

Jasmine: Cool.

 

Jasmine: Can I get a cool nickname too?

 

DogDay: Of course! Take it away Kicken!

 

Kicken is too busy being frozen.

 

She WANTS A nickname!?

 

Oh lord, contain yourself Kicken, this is your first overt chance to make yourself look cool in front of your rival, DON’T FUCK IT UP!!!

 

Kicken: Oh, uh- uh… it could beeee… uhhhh…

 

You’re doomed.

 

Jasmine: How do you usually come up with em?

 

Kicken: I wing it!

 

He points to his wing, the joke seeming more like a statement as he struggles to think.

 

DogDay: It usually has to do with your critter type or superpowers.

 

Jasmine: Superpowers huh?

 

Jasmine: Well, I beat your ass at hopscotch more times than I can count on everyone in this room’s fingers.

 

Jasmine: That super enough?

 

Bobby: I-It…

 

Not one to be this shy, everyone suddenly looks to Bobby, who’d been silent this whole time.

 

Bobby: It was really cool when you jumped in the air and ricocheted that dodgeball.

 

DogDay: Yeah, you can get crazy high if you wanted, huh?

 

Kicken: Hoppy Hopscotch!

 

Jaz almost snorts at the name, poorly stifling her laughter.

 

Kicken blushes, ruffling his feathers at that rush job of a name, but when Jasmine calms down she smiles.

 

Jasmine: Y’know what? I like it!

 

Kicken: Really?

 

Hoppy: Yeah! Betcha If I really was super powered, I could jump all the way to the moon and back.

 

DogDay: Should we start buying extra basketball hoops to stack on each other?

 

Hoppy: That or good luck finding one made for the stratosphere!

 

Hoppy: What about you Jenny? Want one?

 

Still mid sign, the others hadn’t seen she was interrupted talking to Nap, but neither minded.

 

Jennifer: Huh?

 

Hoppy: Nickname.

 

Jennifer: Sure.

 

Kicken: N-Nah, I-I can’t nickname her, that’d be, like, rude.

 

Jenny shakes her head.

 

Jennifer: Go ‘head.

 

Hoppy: See? She wants one!

 

Kicken: Ok, ok… um, what does she do?

 

DogDay: Makes good cookies.

 

Hoppy: Speaks like a badass sheriff.

 

Jenny silently blushes at both responses.

 

Kicken: P-Picky, the… Pig… Sheriff… Girl…

 

Picky the Pig Sheriff Girl: Sure.

 

Kicken: No no no! I can do better!

 

Kicken: Tall Pig, Pick- Tall, the… Cookie Pig.

 

Kicken: Pickster the Pig!

 

Pickster the Pig (The Tall Cookie Pig): Sure.

 

They all wait for just a moment as Kicken assesses his work.

 

Kicken: No. I’ve failed you.

 

He slumps into his seat looking defeated before holding both his wings.

 

Kicken: Arrest me sheriff. For my crimes against nicknames.

 

She huffs, an amused smile softly spread on her face.

 

Picky: Picky’s fine.

 

Picky: Picky Piggy. Like Doggy Day. Or Hoppy Hopscotch.

 

DogDay blushes at the kindhearted butchering of his name, no matter how poorly she remembers it.

 

DogDay: Y-Yeah!

 

Hoppy: Cool! We’re official now Jen! Superheroes!

 

Picky raises her hoof, motioning like Spiderman which gets Hoppy laughing.

 

Kicken: What? What’d she say!? I don’t know sign language yet!!!

 

Now Hoppy’s cackling, with Bobby and Day joining in.

 

And that’s where I’d end it. Usually.

 

But things don’t always go to plan here unfortunately.

 

Things slip through the cracks, problems my mind thinks up before I even realise they’re there.

 

And suddenly they’re happening. Or have already happened.

 

And all I can do Is watch.

 

One of the cons of dying I suppose.

 

Though I’m a lot like you in that way. Just watching and seeing what happens.

 

Also dying slowly.

 

…

 

Sorry. That was pretty morbid huh.

 

I usually try to be funny. Humorous. Spread smiles where I can, just like The Smiling Critters do.

 

But I’m not as good as they are. Or maybe they're only as good as I could ever be.

 

I try. And they suffer the consequences.

 

…

 

Let’s see where this story went while we weren’t looking.

Hoppy: Don’t you have six members? What happened to shy girl?

 

Bobby: Oh, she’s sick today. I’ve texted her a bunch but she must be bed ridden.

 

Bubba, who’d been quietly enjoying the comradery, now sees that dullness return to Bobby’s eyes.

 

DogDay: Yeah, we’re really worried for her. I hope she isn’t too sick. I want to properly introduce you all.

 

Picky: Someone should check.

 

Hoppy: Huh? Jenny, you ok?

 

The pigs hooves were balled tight, staring across at another table with something between anger and worry in her pan shaped eyes.

 

Hoppy looked over at the table to see the kids from her middle school. The ones that were playing dodgeball with them yesterday in gym.

 

Hoppy: What’s up girl. You know them better than I do.

 

Picky: Hunch .

 

Picky: Maggie likes someone. Baba doesn’t.

 

DogDay: That dragon guy? She was arguing with him or something yesterday.

 

Picky: Just a bad feeling.

 

DogDay: Well, I trust you. Should we go check on Crafty after school?

 

Bubba: Unfortunately I have to stay after for a student council meeting.

 

Bobby: Me too. Gardening club is rewriting our finances for the year after the whole combustion thing.

 

Kicken: I got detention for running through the halls covered in eggs.

 

Hoppy seethes guiltily.

 

Hoppy: Sorry… ‘bout that…

 

Kicken: Eh, got a cool friend out of it. Not the first time I’ve come to school covered in substances after some crazy stunt.

 

DogDay: Well, I’m free. And Crafty’s house is right next to mine!

 

Kicken: He built it. He built the house.

 

Hoppy: You built a whole house?

 

DogDay: Only… a little bit.

 

Bubba: He also built the one to the left as well.

 

Hoppy: You built TWO HOUSES!?

 

CatNap: ‘And paid for them both out of pocket.’

 

Hoppy: Wh- are you rich?

 

DogDay: Only a little bit!

 

DogDay: And hey, my parents covered the land cost!

 

CatNap: ‘He got me a really cool curved TV and helped me set it up on my ceiling.’

 

Hoppy: Lucky!

 

DogDay: I-I’m not, I just-

 

Hoppy: Not you, him!

 

She points to CatNap

 

DogDay: You can… read sign language?

 

Hoppy: Yeah. Picky taught me. It was the only way I could talk to her back in middle school.

 

Picky: ‘She just kept tryin’ to guess until I started holdin’ things up and playin’ charades.’

 

Hoppy: ‘But I had a pretty good teacher, and now I’m a master!’

 

CatNap: ‘You just mixed up student and teacher.’

 

Hoppy: Dangit.

 

DogDay: Ok, so after school let's all meet up at the front gate and we can walk-

Picky wakes up, a sick feeling pooling in her gut.

 

She throws up.

 

She takes her pill.

 

She throws up again.

 

She steps back into her dorm room.

 

She stares at her mirror and she stares back.

 

Neither say a word.

 

Hoppy is still asleep.

 

She walks back over to her bed and sits down.

 

There is so much running through her head right now.

 

So many questions.

 

Why’d she forget that night?

 

After they dropped CatNap off. After they noticed they were being followed.

 

After they entered Crafty’s house and they all met for the first time.

 

She wasn’t sick. Of course they weren't.

 

Baba told them as much when she revealed herself.

 

But she forgot. They all forgot.

 

About what he did to her.

 

Why did she forget something like that?

 

Maybe Crafty still knows, or Baba.

 

But Picky? She only remembers now. Five years too late.

 

She’s angry of course, at herself. Maybe Crafty for just a moment because they never told her.

 

But the person she’s most angry at is exactly who you’d think.

 

She looks to her mirror and she signs something at herself.

 

Jennifer: ‘You should kill him.’

 

She gets out of bed.

 

.

Notes:

Heyo! You've Collected The Last Smiling Critter!

Now They're All Together And You Can Watch As I Traumatize Them! Yippee!!!

I Have Another (Shorter, I Think) Intermission Planned For The Nightmare Critters, And Some Factory Stuff Reguarding Angel And Their Critters, Plus I've Gotten More Of Chapter Two Done, Despite Really Struggling With How To Convey Some Parts Of It. I'm Really Going Out There With Some Of These Plotlines, So I Hope I Do Them Justice.

Also, The End There Wont make Sense Until Waaaay Later, So Keep An Eye Out For Vengeful Picky!

Thanks For Reading!

Chapter 6: CHAPTER 1: "The Calm Before: DogDay and CatNap"

Summary:

Finally, After The Prologue Comes The... Preslog? The Main Chapters Have Begun, And Thanks To The Stupid Way I Had This Layed Out Before, THIS Should Be Where Most early Readers Began. Thankfully, Ive Been Fixing That And have Also Decided To Spilt The Chapters As People Said They Were Very Long. (I Blame Myself For My Reading Habits.)

So From Now On Chapters, Like The Intermissions And Prologue, Will Be Split Into 5 Parts! This Is Also So i Can Make The Wait For Updates Shorter.

The Parts, Like The Prologue, Will Be Divided By Critter/Pairing, So Day And Nap, K.C And Bubs Etc. I Know Picky And Crafty Arent Together, But They Are Good Friends And Interact With Each Other More Than The Other Critters, And So They Will Be paired Accordingly. The Fifth Part To Each Chapter Will Be Angels Section, And Like I Said Before, I'll Be Actually Updating The Fic Today, So That Means NEW CONTENT, YIPPEE!!! Hope Yall Are Interested In More Oif The Fac Critters And Hopefully A Bit Of Chapter 2.

Hope You Enjoy, And I Hope The Fic Reads A LOT Better Now With The New Layout

—DogDay—

 

GET UP

 

DogDay: AHH - unf!

 

Well, that's certainly a way to start the morning…

 

From the floor you pull yourself into a stretch, arching your back and rolling left to right until you’re flat on your stomach.

 

As you gently careen into a ray of sunlight, you squint your eyes to try and make out your back-lit alarm clock.

 

…

 

Phew . You were tense for a moment that you were gonna be late for something, which is weird, cause you’re never late!

 

Struggling to your paws, you do a lil jog up to your window, opening it wide to let the autumn breeze cascade into your room.

 

You mostly get smog, but apart from that you can still feel the season in the air.

 

Looking from the cul-de-sac in which you live towards the forest, a menagerie of red, yellow, and orange dot the ground and a gentle breeze gently brushes the vibrant trees.

 

You rest off what little morning grog you acquired by leaning on the windowsill, staring out at the world.

 

It's sunday.

 

Your favorite day!

 

On top of that, it's Fall; your second favorite season, and morning; your favorite time of day!

 

So why do you just feel so… off?

 

A glance back at your bed reveals a crime scene of blankets and pillows, half piled on the floor from your rude awakening.

 

You think you must have had a nightmare, but your mind draws a blank on its contents. You’ve not had enough nightmares to take a guess either.

 

You scrunch up your face in concentration, thinking really really hard, but you only come away with one blurry image.

 

Metal bars. Somewhere… dark? Or… are you blind?

 

Something smells as well, but you only taste metal, like you've eaten a penny.

 

And you remember looking up and murmuring. Asking someone a question.

 

And you saw… CatNap?

 

Blinking your eyes, you realize you've been staring hard into the forest. Apparently long enough that your favorite neighbor has taken notice!

 

The purple cat suddenly stands in front of your window just a few dozen inches away, a conflicted expression on his face.

 

Just as you'd realised he was there, he’d signed something at you with his paws.

 

You go to say sorry, but are caught by a secret yawn, electing to just sign back instead.

 

You put a closed paw to your chest as an apology for not noticing him, before asking him to sign again.

 

With just four simple hand movements you're reminded how happy you are to have someone who cares so much for you!

 

CatNap: ‘You ok?’

 

After pointing back to you, you can already feel your tail wagging, giving away your answer.

 

DogDay: Yep! Now that you're here, I don’t even remember what I was worried about!

 

Nap gives an unconvinced look, but doesn’t press you on it.

 

DogDay: What about you? It's pretty early for you, isn't it?

 

Looking back, you confirm that it's 8:15. Not nearly past the cat's normal bedtime!

 

CatNap: ‘I can't sleep.’

 

DogDay: Oh, that's… huh.

 

Unheard of, is what you were going to say, but the concept has kinda floored you.

 

Catnap? Unable to nap?

 

DogDay: Did you… want some coffee? It does the opposite for you doesn't it?

 

CatNap: ‘Not exactly.’

 

CatNap: ‘Coffee doesn't wake me up, but doesn't make me sleep. Why? My Autism.’

 

CatNap: ‘It's weird.’

 

DogDay: Huh. Well do you wanna come in and try my bed? You may be getting too used to your own again.

 

CatNap sleepily nods and you feel your tail start to go again.

 

You’ve always liked having Nap over, especially after the city got built and life got a lot more hectic.

 

It's been hard to find time, but it's the weekend and nobody is busy with anything today!

 

Actually, you should try and plan a group hangout tomorrow!

 

After so long it’d be nice to get everyone in one place again!

 

Just as you finish that thought, you barely hear the door click as CatNap enters your room.

 

As you turn around, you find him nowhere, hearing a flump where your bed is.

 

After that disorienting set of noises, you finally spot CatNap curled up in your bed, right in the dead center of his “comfy spot.”

 

You internally sigh at losing the chance to make your bed, but the gentle noises of a half asleep CatNap distract you from your plight.

 

Sitting down next to him you feel a tug on your wrist, as the cat gives a wanting look.

 

He wants to cuddle back to sleep, something you've both done since you were kids, but just then your stomach answers for you, a low growl coming from it.

 

Nap chuckles a little bit, which makes you feel a bit warmer despite the cold air wafting into the room.

 

You stand slowly, petting the sleepy cat for just a moment, lest you both lose the day in cuddles and affection.

 

DogDay: I’m gonna make something to eat, ok?

 

Catnap nods his head before curling up more.

 

You go close the window, gently covering the loaf that Catnap currently is with one of your blankets.

 

He sighs out, interlaced with a purr that tells you he’s probably already asleep by now.

 

That's the Nap I know.

 

It helps that CatNap likes it warm, contrary to your preference for a crisp cold day, but even then you’re worried that he couldn't sleep.

 

Walking into the kitchen, you think about that nightmare again.

 

With those unfinished memories comes… a feeling.

 

It takes you a moment to process it, but focusing on that still, semi-fleeting image of CatNap helps you get a grasp on it.

 

Yet you regret it by the second.

 

It’s sorrow mixed with fear, a tint of anger or… betrayal.

 

Something that tells you that you’re stuck, unable to move forward, yet unable to stop the same thing from happening day in and day out.

 

You don't even know what that may be, but if you can tell anything from this fragmented dream it's that it’s… it’s… CatNap’s fault?

 

As if your body sought to punish your mind for even entertaining that idea, your side crashes right into the corner of the kitchen island and you let out a yip.

 

Your paw shoots over your muzzle, eyes darting down the hall, ears straining to hear if your stupid mistake woke up the sleep deprived cat.

 

You sigh, half from hearing nothing, but the other half directed right at yourself.

 

You’re disappointed you even thought of that…

 

You start making breakfast.

A stupid nightmare.

 

That's all it was.

 

You'd have no reason and WILL have no reason to feel so… conflicted or betrayed, by- by ANY of your friends, let alone CatNap!

 

It’s not like you haven't been frustrated for no reason before.

 

When all your friends left for college last year, you felt so lonely even if it was dampened by CatNap being here.

 

When you made the decision to agree to have that city built, despite all the others telling you it was a bad idea.

 

You’ve always been the leader, and you technically owned the whole valley , yet they didn't trust your judgement, even then.

 

And then there was yourself mussing up you and Nap’s friendship while the others were away.

 

Though you don't want to think about that.

 

Reguardless, no matter what hardships, or betrayal, or any other unjustified thing you felt, it always ended up being your fault.

 

Your fault you waited to go to college with the others.

 

Your fault you didn't listen to them all those years ago about the city.

 

Your fault you’d been avoiding CatNap the whole first half of the year because of your stupid, complicated feelings.

 

Or, wasn't he the one..?

 

No! No thinking!!!

 

Huffing in frusteration, you try and clear your mind as you make breakfast. Waffles and Pancakes for you and CatNap each.

 

You’re glad you talked to him and that you’re both on speaking terms again, but you never got to tell him why .

 

Instead, you lied .

 

Said you were just feeling bad that everyone was gone, and like everytime you think about that lie, you feel sick.

 

It was obvious CatNap could tell you didn't want to talk about the real reason you'd avoided him for so long, but he's such a good person that he didn't even push it.

 

And after everything you've done, a part of you knows you don't deserve to tell him how you feel.

 

You suppress another yip as you burn your paw on the pan.

 

You can't stop.

 

It's the only thing you can think of.

 

You look down at the burn on your finger with an empty feeling.

 

.

 

—CatNap—

 

GET UP

 

You gasp awake, claws sunk deep into a pillow.

 

You feel that telltale bout of nausea coming on and lean forward in your bed, groaning and humming as to not let yourself puke.

 

Nightmare… Again.

 

Same fucking one.

 

You clutch the pillow tighter in anger, but stop as it just makes you feel more sick.

 

Looking down, you see you’re holding one of the pillows Dogday gave you, nearly fraying at the seams from how old it is.

 

You gently put it to the side, grabbing one of the ones Bobby gave you instead.

 

Even if you feel bad about it, you'd rather accidentally tear up Bobby’s gift than DogDay’s.

 

You get pillows from everyone, every year, for every holiday , and even now at the age of 20, you’ve amassed an army of them.

 

Eventually you caved to the cliche and got them all pillows too, completing the loop, but it was far too late.

 

Now you have a mound of comfy fabric, and a lingering unease for the day you'll finally have to wash them all.

 

Or week more likely. Or maybe It'll take a month.

 

A funny thought crosses your mind at the amount of bones you've gifted DogDay over the years.

 

How many of those are still buried in his yard?

 

How many does he still even remember are there?

 

You don't know.

 

You always gave him bones back then, but you just chalked it up to the valley’s freaky cartoon logic , something nobody other than you and Bubba seem to think is strange.

 

It slowly started to become less prevalent over the years.

 

Back when you were all kids you wouldn't even notice when Picky could produce a full cake twice her size from behind her back, or when you’d randomly vanish just to be found napping in a tree just a few yards away.

 

A soft smile visits you as you remember the inspiring sun shaped background that'd fade in whenever DogDay would make one of his brave, leader speeches.

 

DogDay…

 

Aaaand… the mood is soured again, despite the nausea having passed.

 

That same nightmare plays in your head again, vivid and real like it just happened yesterday.

 

The stench of blood you can only recall because it's so natural to this dreamscape.

 

Colorful walls stained with grime and viscera and sick .

 

You stand unnaturally tall, even more so than Picky, before glancing around the room to see the cat bed you’d just lain in, your friends' old pendants gently resting amongst the pillows.

 

Pendants you took and hid in the waking world as well, out of the same fear this nightmare gave you.

 

The room from the nightmare always had new scratch marks, as if even in this version of you had nightmares even more violent than your own.

 

Your lanky, malnourished legs bring you, against your will , down the tainted hall, nausea and tension building like clockwork.

 

You come to a stop, short of a cell on the left with a fresher smell of blood wafting from it.

 

You know who's there, even if he's lost his scent… his voice … his sunshine.

 

At first, you don’t even look, before asking a question that you could never quite hear the first few times you had the dream.

 

CatNap: How   are   you…

 

He never responds. You internally scoff at that version of you.

 

That you can’t even frame it like a question anymore. More like a demand to know, even after all you know you’ve done to him.

 

But stepping forward even more, you finally coming face to face with that horrid fucking image your mind just loves to torment you with.

 

Your best friend, strung up like a puppet against the wall of a cell.

 

The straps keeping him suspended, digging into his fur and skin.

 

You still can't look down to see where all that blood coating his stomach is coming from, but the pained, defeated expression he has tells you that you don’t want to know.

 

You did something to him, you know you did.

 

But this coward of a CatNap you have the displeasure of seeing through the eyes of, won't even look down at what he's done.

 

It wasn't always like this, this nightmare.

 

You remember times where DogDay was just laying in the cell, shivering.

 

But something… happened one time, and…

 

You don't remember.

 

You don't want to remember.

 

Your friends tried to tell you what happened the night you had that breakdown, and even that's foggy.

 

DogDay: give up…

 

It's all this Day says anymore. Sometimes more hurt than usual in his voice, but mostly just exhaustion.

 

It's the only words you can ever comprehend, the rest being muffled by the beating of your heart and the fear, sickness, whatever the fuck you feel everytime you have this god damn dream.

 

Pushing the nightmare away, you look down, a massive tear through the comfy red pillow you’d replaced DogDay’s with.

 

Sorry Bobby…

 

Grabbing your phone, you squint at the brightness already turned down to its lowest.

 

You'd been sitting in the dark for a whole hour thinking about that stupid nightmare.

 

Getting up, you walk out to the balcony of your cat tower, thanking whatever cartoon god built these houses for the access to fresh air.

 

Seriously, of all these houses, DogDays looks the most normal.

 

Speaking of, you can see him resting his arm on his windowsill, looking out into the forest.

 

You glance back at your cold, uninviting bed.

 

No matter how comfortable it looks,- catscratch that, comfortable it IS, you've not gotten significant sleep for weeks.

 

Another glance at DogDay’s face confirms it for you.

 

You'd feel safe with him right now, no matter how tense it may be between you right now.

 

It'll be fine. You’re talking things out a bit, and it'll be just fine.

 

Just… fine…

 

On your way out of your tower, you feel a nagging sense of guilt and fear.

 

It wasn't too long ago that Day wouldn't even talk to you.

 

You were scared that he'd heard you say something about that nightmare you can't remember when you had that breakdown.

 

Something about him. They’re always about him.

 

But when he came to you to make up, he avoided your question when you asked why.

 

So, you left it.

 

You love him too much to… you just… you really care about him.

 

You feel a pang of disgust at getting ahead of yourself like that.

 

You risk ruining your friendship if you let thoughts like that get ahead of you.

 

And hell, DogDay doesn't even know what you've done to him, even if it was just a dream.

 

If he knew, well… he'd try to help you or something.

 

He'll risk himself getting hurt, all because of you.

 

It's just better if he never knows.

 

Even if he does love you back.

 

Don't get your hopes up Theo.

 

Just then you find yourself in front of Day's window, the dog's eyes still lost in thought deep in the forest.

 

Another cut. Can't you just walk somewhere normally anymore?

 

You tap the windowsill, signing a question without thinking.

 

CatNap: ‘Can't sleep? Nightmare?’

 

You regret asking because if he somehow IS having the same nightmares, like you've been irrationally fearing, then you definitely don't want to give it away.

 

Thankfully, he hadn't seemed to notice you until that very moment, stretching himself out into a yawn.

 

You already feel your stress melting away as DogDay meets your eyes.

 

DogDay: Sorry!

 

He looks tired and anxious though, something rarely seen from him, which makes you worry.

 

CatNap: ‘You ok?’

 

You see him ever so slightly flinch, fixing himself into that sunny expression he usually has.

 

Like he's lying to himself about how he feels.

 

DogDay: Yep! Now that you're here, I don’t even remember what I was worried about!

 

You have trouble believing that.

 

DogDay: What about you? It's pretty early for you, isn't it?

 

Glancing at the sun, you can tell it must be a little after 8, which makes you internally groan.

 

With you waking up maybe an hour ago, you must have only gotten around four hours of sleep.

 

Not exactly your recommended daily amount, but you've been getting used to it little by little.

 

CatNap: ‘I can't sleep.’

 

DogDay: Oh, that's… huh.

 

You regret admitting to it after seeing that concern flash across the dog's visage.

 

Good fuckin’ going Nap.

 

DogDay: Did you… want some coffee? It does the opposite for you doesn't it?

 

CatNap: ‘Not exactly.’

 

You can recall a few times where coffee did as advertised, calming you and making it easier to stay up, but as you grew up it started to just make you feel sick, running your thoughts raw and making you jittery enough to wish you could go to sleep but couldn’t.

 

You remember asking Bubba why your body suddenly despised your favorite drink, and after a short test, Bubba came to a tentative conclusion, prefaced by admitting he wasn't a psychologist and could be entirely wrong.

 

Autism.

 

But you trust his judgement.

 

In a way, you miss coffee, but fuck if you'll ever try drinking it again.

 

CatNap: ‘Coffee doesn't wake me up, but doesn't make me sleep, because of my Autism.’

 

CatNap: ‘It's… weird .’

 

You get kinda anxious telling people about it but DogDay wouldn't judge you a day in his life, and after some research you're fairly certain DogDay may have ADHD himself, something you're adamant about helping him with if it ever comes up.

 

DogDay: Huh. Well do you wanna come in and try my bed? You may be getting too used to your own again.

 

You nod, walking around the house to the door Day keeps fully unlocked despite you telling him not to.

 

He's probably right about the bed.

 

Last time you stayed over at his house, it was right after your breakdown, and right before the others left for college, you and Dogday growing apart soon after.

 

You barely remember making the half-excuse that you were having nightmares because the others were leaving, and that you couldn't just look at your ceiling thinking about it anymore.

 

Honestly, it did really get you down, but you refused to go with them this year so you could stay with DogDay who said he wasn't ready for college yet.

 

You don't know why, but you know you couldn't just leave him alone in the valley for a whole year. Especially not with your nightmares reminding you of him every day.

 

You enter the familiar house, soaking in the memories like pictures in your mind.

 

The good thing about your memory is that you'll never forget the late night sleepovers where you watched TV quietly with all your sleeping friends around you, Dogday snoring by your side on the couch.

 

The time Picky made the best lunch any of you had ever had while you all played uno on the coffee table, DogDay helping you absolutely destroy Kicken in the process.

 

Walking into the hallway… you remember the time Hoppy and Bobby found you after your breakdown, having come back from the forest a sobbing mess and sneaking back into Day's house to hear him asking Bubba what he did wrong.

 

You open the door, not looking at the DogDay you imagine talking to Bubba, the fear and worry on his face that you must have given him that night.

 

You just let yourself fall into his bed, finding the warmest spot and getting comfortable.

 

DogDay hasn't been up too long.

 

You can still feel warmth in the blankets which you nuzzle yourself into, already feeling those few hours of sleep catching up to you.

 

All you need is the smell of vanilla and you’ll be well on your way to unconsciousness.

 

Your gracious cartoon god blesses you with semi-comedic timing as Day sits down besides you, bringing that glorious vanilla with him.

 

You gently bring your paw to his, pulling him closer.

 

You just need him and you’ll stop thinking so much.

 

Please Day, help me.

 

He smiles back quietly, understanding you through your eyes alone, something none of the others can do.

 

His stomach growls, reminding you it's probably breakfast time, isn't it?

 

You laugh a bit at the embarrassed face he makes, which makes it that much easier to calm down.

 

He brings a paw to your ear and pets you, a sign of affection you’d consider weird for friends if you hadn't lost yourself in it so long ago.

 

DogDay never seemed bothered by the pets, and you'd probably just up and die without them at this point.

 

Oh… you’re asleep already.

 

You think he may have said something, but it doesn't matter now, as your mind drifts you into a calming , dark , yet vibrantly-lit starscape , a sky filled with shapes you can barely decipher as your friends, yet know for sure it's all them.

 

A dream about something new for once. Simple, but new .

 

The sky, your friends are all around you, but up there too, the brightest star being DogDay of course.

 

They all pulse and jitter, like they’re laughing at each other's jokes, having a good time.

 

And all you have to do is sit there and enjoy watching it.

 

They are happy, you’re here, and DogDay… he’s so bright.

 

You think you'll stare until the image is burned into your eyes.

You jolt awake as you hear a sharp noise.

 

It's the same noise Day used to make when someone accidentally stepped on his tail, which brings an old anger back to you.

 

It’s quickly swallowed though, as you throw the blankets off and dart into the hallway.

 

Is he hurt? Did someone hurt him? Are they still here!? Gah, I should have tried harder to make him lock his doors!

 

Or no, it's my fault! I should have locked it when I came in!

 

How fucking dense can I-

 

The smell of pancakes hits you as you reach the hall door into the kitchen.

 

And you find Dogday staring down at his paw.

 

His expression is…

 

It hurts to look at.

 

You walk in, thanking your paws for being so quiet, even while you were rushing.

 

You hug him from behind, feeling him tense for only a moment before his tail starts to wag.

 

CatNap: ‘Are you hurt?’

 

You break the hug to sign in front of him, hoping you get your point across without your facial expressions or body visible.

 

DogDay: No, It's just a lil burn.

 

You don't believe him, and really don't want to break the hug after seeing that look on him.

 

CatNap: ‘You got hurt making breakfast for us.’

 

DogDay: Hey, it's nothing! A-and don't think it's your fault or anything, please .

 

He places his burnt paw on your own.

 

He knows you too well. That's exactly where your brain was going.

 

He was trying to multitask; making both breakfasts at once, and got himself hurt.

 

DogDay breaks the hug though, turning around and kneeling a bit to properly hug you back.

 

DogDay: I promise you Moon, I'm just fine.

 

You shake your head, hoping you won't regret pushing the issue.

 

CatNap: ‘Your face…’

 

CatNap: ‘Something is wrong.’

 

DogDays body movement and expression confirm it. 

 

He's a terrible liar, even when he hasn’t said anything.

 

DogDay: I didn't wanna worry you Nap.

 

CatNap: ‘What’s wrong?’

 

DogDay: Just… a nightmare.

 

You feel your heartbeat pick up.

 

Please don't let the impossible happen. It can't be the same.

 

He- He can't know.

 

Day looks worried and you realize you’ve gone quiet

 

CatNap: ‘W-what was it about..? How bad!?’

 

DogDay: Not that bad . Just a spooky room with some bars. I don't remember much, other than… feelings .

 

You freeze.

 

Bars?

 

Now you know you can't risk him finding out by asking more.

 

If he can't remember then you can't let him.

 

Nodding your head, you hug him back, tight.

 

DogDay: It's ok Nap. I'm sure they'll go away when we see the others again.

 

DogDay: Let's eat though. We shouldn’t make the drive into the city on empty stomachs.

DogDays breakfast tastes amazing.

 

Picky always lets him know he's getting better, but there's always something about a meal he makes wrong, which you love.

 

You know he's doing his best, which makes the minor mistakes all the more charming .

 

The eggs are a little overcooked, so you eat them happily.

 

The bacon is too chewy and you scarf it down, preferring chewy bacon anyway.

 

Day always liked waffles, but you preferred pancakes, because they’re heavier and make you feel more comfy and full.

 

They're great food before a midday nap.

 

After finishing up breakfast you help him with the dishes before he goes and gets dressed.

 

After a hug and thank you, you leave back to your tower on a full stomach and an extra hour of sleep.

 

Scrounging through your messy closet, you pack up the rest of your things into an old suitcase, and stop on an old sweater.

 

It's DogDay’s.

 

Bright orange with a sun in the middle.

 

No matter how many times it's washed it still smells like him, feels like him…

 

You blush, not exactly proud of your thoughts.

 

You only hope keeping something like this is still a “friends” thing to do, but you can't deny that you truly needed this when DogDay had stopped talking to you.

 

You snatch it up and put it on, fighting yourself not to think about it lest you be flooded with embarrassment.

 

Finally packed and ready, you blink, appearing in the lot just outside the cul-de-sac.

 

The cuts ; sudden transitions to locations, still throw you off sometimes, even after all these years.

 

The cold nips at your fur as you wander over to Day's car.

 

The lot was built when Bubba got him and DogDay to go get drivers licenses.

 

You remember having a chat with Bubba while they picked out cars.

 

Nobody in the valley had even heard of a car before, and like clockwork, they existed all the sudden and Day and him both had enough money to get one each.

 

Bubba found cash in his wallet, which also spontaneously appeared one day when he had to pay for the lot.

 

He said he just reached behind him without thinking and it appeared from thin air.

 

You've done that with a coffee cup once, but not as much as some of the other Critters like Picky with her food or Hoppy with sports equipment.

 

DogDay said he'd been saving up, but when Bubba asked him how he got that money, he couldn't give a straight answer.

 

The others always seem to just… know about things in order to avoid some kind of logic contradiction.

 

Either that, or they just accept things as they are, and you’re too scared to test the limits of the cartoon logic at risk of… well you don't know.

 

It just gives you a bad feeling.

 

For now, you lean against DogDay’s car, the only one belonging to the lot aside from Bubba’s van which he took the rest of the Critters in last year.

 

There was one day Kicken had a monster truck which only existed as a joke for a bit before vanishing soon after.

 

The cartoons you watched as a kid had made callbacks to jokes sometime or another, so maybe you'll see it again.

 

Hopefully not buried in the side of Day's house again though.

 

Speaking of DogDay.

 

DogDay: Hey! Sorry for the wait!

 

He jogs down to his car, keys and suitcase in hand.

 

Right away you notice a flash of purple as he gets closer, and you thankfully feel a bit less embarrassed that you're wearing his sweater.

 

You remember giving him your jacket a while ago. He thought it was funny that you'd ‘buy’ a jacket two times your size, but once you explained the comfort benefits of a big hoodie, he understood.

 

Day's sweater is still a bit big on you too this day, but you imagine if he tried to wear it…

 

AH, stop thinking about that!

 

He wouldn't even try it on! He knows he wouldn't fit in it anymore, even to satisfy your curiosity!

 

It takes a second for you to cleanse your brain of the thoughts of Day's body. But as he opens his car, you see his tail wagging up a storm.

 

Tapping him on the shoulder, he comes back up from setting his case in the back of the car.

 

CatNap: ‘You excited?’

 

He nods vigorously.

 

DogDay: Yeah! I wonder what they've been up to all year!

 

You smile at his enthusiasm as you get in the passenger seat.

 

CatNap: ‘I bet Bubba had the most free time. He could probably finish all his work before the second term even started .’

 

DogDay: Either him or Kicken, but it'd be because he was procrastinating.

 

CatNap: ‘No, Bubba wouldn't let him.’

 

DogDay: You'd be surprised how often Kicken used to get away with it in school!

 

School? We never went to-

 

Just then, memories that aren't yours rush into your head, making you take a moment to gather them all.

 

It's fragmented, just enough to be turned into cohesive ‘episodes’ as Bubba called them.

 

He’s told you about these sudden memory flashes before, but you hadn't had any until now.

 

That, or you never noticed them.

 

Out of your daze, you realise Day hadn't pulled out of the lot yet, just parked in front of the turnout staring out at the cul-de-sac of houses.

 

You let out a small hum for his attention before signing.

 

CatNap: ‘What's wrong?’

 

DogDay: Nothing, just… There are a lot of memories here.

 

CatNap: ‘We’ll be back at the end of this year. This time all of us.’

 

DogDay: Yeah…

 

He gazes at each of the houses. You and Crafty’s towers, Picky’s barn, Kicken’s coop, Hoppy’s burrow, Bobby's hive, Bubba’s hale…

 

His own house.

 

It's funny, you think. All these goofy designs, all too small to fit the amount of rooms they have in them.

 

Far too small and abnormal for anyone to realise how many memories eight friends could hold for each house alone.

 

CatNap: ‘Are you ready?’

 

Day looks conflicted, looking back to the houses, then the city, then to you.

 

DogDay: You're what made this place special. All of you.

 

DogDay: I'll have you all there with me, so… yeah.

 

You nod, a smile on your face as his own smile returns.

Halfway to the city, you and Dogday sit in the calm silence.

 

You'd both agreed to grab lunch before heading to the college, knowing you'd only make it by the time everyone there would be asleep.

 

A thought crosses your mind as you look towards the tall buildings in the distance.

 

CatNap: -ay?

 

You make a noise close enough to his name to get his attention.

 

You've never been able to speak properly for as long as you can remember, but you guess whoever decided the rules of your world, wanted you to say your first words to your friends and make it some impactful moment.

 

But you only try to speak for Day.

 

Your voice, though fleeting, is for him alone, be it as an act of rebellion against your creators, or just something to keep between the two of you.

 

DogDay: Hm?

 

Signing quickly as he looks away from the road, you ask your question.

 

CatNap: ‘Do you think we'll be dorm mates?’

 

DogDay: I think so. We'll be going in at the same time just like the others did when they got their rooms.

 

CatNap: Hmm?

 

DogDay: Yeah, Kicken and Bubba are roommates! Hoppy and Picky too!

 

DogDay: I don't know about Bobby though.

 

DogDay: I heard Crafty doesn’t have a dorm mate, and Bobby… doesn't really like hers.

 

You make a grunt of sympathy.

 

Crafty wanting a dorm to herself makes sense, but there aren't many people in the world who could get to Bobby.

 

Maybe they just don't like hugs and she's just joking?

 

... No. They must be that bad.

 

You honestly can't imagine anybody leaving a bad taste in Bobby’s mouth. She really does like everyone.

 

Though… Everyone only equals 17 people, not that she'd even realise.

 

Another friend group shows up every year for about a month around Halloween, and based on your new memories, your old teacher; Ms. Delight, seemingly vanished off the face of the planet once you all “graduated” middle school.

 

You don't know where Delight could have gone. Maybe humans have their own city?

 

Are there any other humans?

 

On the other hand, that other group may be in college too. They were all your age after all, even if none of you seemed to get along.

 

Bubba had a theory they were supposed to be reflections of your group, but they didn't exactly fit into the ‘evil doppelganger’ roles that your friends did.

 

Simone was like Kicken if he was more of an asshole, Allister and you bonded over chilling on a bench while the others shared candy, but he was… well he was boring as all hell.

 

And then there’s their ‘DogDay’ equivalent who may be Baba.

 

She's kinda scary and barely talks, but you told Bubba her friend Poe could also fit the “Anti-Day” description.

 

You didn’t know the others too well, despiteyour time together in high school.

 

As the car presses on, you can feel yourself drifting off again.

 

DogDay: Hey Moon, we're almost in the city now. Food’s just around the corner.

 

You make a non committal mrrp ; a classic CatNap expression for “No, it's nap time.”

 

DogDay: Sure you can't keep yourself awake? Maybe watch the road ninja jump over the signs?

 

You chuckle.

 

You're more used to watching sheep jumping over the moon instead.

 

.

 

—DogDay—

 

Aaaand he's gone.

 

Eyes back to the road, you let the cat fall asleep.

 

However long it takes to get to a fast food joint, you'll just let him rest.

 

He needs it, and you're happy to give him the time.

 

So you take the long way, exploring the city as long as your rapidly depleting gas tank could handle.

 

Oh that's… when did your tank get so low?

 

Grumbling at the vague memory of Bubba telling you to get the car with worse gas mileage, you pull into a gas station.

 

Getting out and going through the motions, you walk in.

 

Passing some humans, you think about Ms. Delight, fondly lost in your head as you grab two bags of chips and an energy drink before heading up to the counter.

 

A bored looking rabbit with sky blue fur and eyes, sits there, scrolling on his phone.

 

As soon as you walk up, he stands to attention.

 

Ryder: Ey, what can I getcha?

 

DogDay: Just these. Oh, and 40 on 5 please!

 

Ryder: No problemo, customerino!

 

You smile at his energy as he rings you up.

 

He makes you think of a mix between Hoppy and CatNap.

 

There's another friend mixed in there too, but you catch it when you look up at the pompadour he has going on and realise it looks kinda like Picky's.

 

DogDay: Oh, I like your hair by the way!

 

The rabbit blushes, stuttering for a moment before handing you your change.

 

Ryder: Oh uh- T-thanks dude! I like your… uh…

 

Ryder: Orange-ness..?

 

DogDay: Thanks!

 

Ryder: Have a good one!

 

DogDay: You too!

 

The people in the city seem nice.

 

Getting back to the car, you see a glare on CatNap’s face, his eyes locked on the rabbit cashier.

 

You know Nap's not fond of new people, but hopefully he can get used to it in college.

 

Like clockwork, you do the steps you've done a million times before, unscrewing the gas cover, popping in the pump and waiting.

 

You crinkle your nose at the smell of gasoline, but tough it out until the car is full.

 

Eventually you're on the road again, food obtained and night coming closer by the minute.

 

You pull into the dorm parking lot and fish around for the ID's you had mailed.

 

Once you're ready, you gently nudge the sleepy cat.

 

He mumbles incoherently, the sound of his cute voice like music to your ears.

 

You pet him a bit which gets his ears to perk up as he starts to wake a little.

 

DogDay: We're here Nap.

 

Opening his eyes, he nods, sluggishly pulling himself from the car to grab his suitcase.

 

You both enter, talking to the Human man at the front desk who CatNap gives a strange look.

 

He sets you up with a key and a room near the top floor thanks to how late you are to secure a dorm room.

 

CatNap is nearly leaning on you by the time you both have everything signed and head to the elevator.

 

The elevator door opens, and you’re greeted with a screechy laughter that makes you cover your ears.

 

An albino bat Critter on her phone.

 

Rabie: Pfft heheheh , typical for the little rat, huh? So what, you just up n’ left?

 

Rabie: Bro didn't even wanna fuck , just moped around all night!

 

She scooches past you, nearly bumping into Nap who looks back at her with a grumpy expression.

 

You gently take his hand and step into the elevator.

 

As you press the button for the fifth floor, CatNap readjusts his hand, intertwining your fingers as he leans against you.

 

You feel your chest warm up at how close he is, especially in semi-public.

 

It’s normal for you to be affectionate with each other, but Nap usually keeps it on the down low, even with the other Critters.

 

It makes you happy that you can help him feel comfortable.

 

As the door opens he lets go, and you both walk to your new dorm room.

 

Walking in and locking the door, you take in the simple room before CatNap lets out a satisfied sigh, falling backwards onto what is now surely his bed.

 

You walk up to the window, cracking the blinds for tomorrow and begin to unload your suitcase while Nap sets up the pillows he brought.

 

DogDay: Hey CatNap?

 

CatNap: Mrr?

 

Your tail wags at the cute cat noise, but you thankfully stop yourself from gushing about how adorable he is long enough to ask your question.

 

DogDay: Do you wanna… go to sleep together?

 

It's something you used to do a lot before you grew apart.

 

Now you missed waking up next to him.

 

CatNap doesn’t sign anything back, just getting up, walking over and crawling into your bed.

 

You thought it may have still been complicated knowing how you feel about him, but he’s seemingly perfectly content to just cuddle up next to you just like old times.

 

Even now, after growing apart. After his breakdown…

 

He still cares about, and calls after, and worries about you like nothing ever happened.

 

Is it really ok to just go back to normal, when you both know it happened for a reason?

 

A reason you so clearly lied about ?

 

CatNap pulls you from your sitting position to lay against him.

 

Just… don't think.

 

Enjoy what you have. What this is.

 

Even if you can't tell him why, he's still here.

 

You'll always have each other, in one way or another.

 

.

Notes:

(I Keep The Old Endnotes. I Love Being So Cringe)

did you enjoy..? 0_0

Either Way, Any Feedback Is Appreciated, Especially Since This Is My First Time Not LURKING, Aside From Making Comments Here And There For Fics That Reeeeally GET MY GOAT (And Give It Lots Of Love And Attention, So I Mean Really Really Good Fics, Like Really Good, Like Go Read Some Of The Fics In This Fandom, Like Really)

Thanks For Reading, And See You, And These 8 Goobers, Next Chapter! ^w^

Chapter 7: CHAPTER 1: "The Calm Before: Kicken and Bubba"

Summary:

Kicken and Bubba have a serious conversation about something thats been weighing on them, whether they know it or not. They both want to help, both are afraid of hurting one another, but at the very least they both care.

Notes:

The Reformatting Continues. Hopefully This Is Short Enough Where Y'all Who've Been Frustrated With The Chapter Length Are Satisfied, But long Enough Where The Chapter Doesn't Feel Fleeting

—Kicken—

 

GET UP

 

Kicken: DON'T, PLEASE!!!

 

You shoot up, scrambling to get away from her before your wing slips out from under you, and you fall talon-over-tailfeathers onto the floor.

 

Bubba: Jesus Kicken!

 

You have to take a moment to catch your breath before you can even realise what's happening.

 

Kicken: What… huff , Where did she-..?

 

Bubba: Stop, hold on, just… breath.

 

You catch some movement which makes you flinch, but you’re too dazed to move.

 

He gets to his knees, gently placing his hooves on your shoulders as you try and fail to control your breathing.

 

Bubba: Kicken, hey, are you hurt?

 

You look down at your wings, feathers ruffled, but not anything past sore.

 

Kicken: N-no, I think I'm good.

 

Bubba: Do you know where we are?

 

Kicken: W-we're in Playc-... ugh?

 

Looking around, the room is dark and small, the carpet beneath you comfortable and soft.

 

You find yourself in your dorm room, Bubba looking disheveled and worried.

 

Bubba: What?

 

Kicken: T-the dorm, yeah?

 

Bubba: Yeah, the dorm room.

 

You go to sit up properly as Bubba fusses, getting you to sit with your head up as he looks at your eyes.

 

You stare into his, for a moment, just happy to see him safe.

 

Suddenly, you're flashbanged by his phone light.

 

Kicken: Ack, what the fuck dude!

 

Bubba: Sorry, I had to check if your pupils were dilated.

 

Kicken: What? Why would-

 

Bubba: Checking for a concussion- look, just let me get you back into bed.

 

As he helps you up, you groggily sway to the left before he catches you.

 

Kicken: What time is it..?

 

Bubba: Sunday, 6:37 Am.

 

As you sit back down you nearly throw your head back into the wall as you go to lay down.

 

Thankfully Bubba has a hoof to your shoulder.

 

Kicken: You're my favorite alarm clock, you know that.~

 

Bubba: Mhm, lay down correctly for me please?

 

You do as the doctor orders, swinging your talons up before promptly plopping them down on the end of your bed.

 

Bubba does some other checks you don't care enough to pay attention to before he sighs, face in his paws as he sits on your bed next to you.

 

Kicken: You ok Bubs?

 

Bubba: No , Kicken I..!

 

He collects himself, leaning back as his tail flicks behind him.

 

Bubba: You worried me.

 

Kicken: I do that a lot.

 

Bubba: You do it far too much.

 

Bubba: But this time it was worse.

 

Kicken: It's fine, I just… had a nightmare I think?

 

Bubba: What was it about?

 

You sit up, thinking hard at the fleeting dream.

 

It scared you shitless , obviously, but you don't want to just take the coward's way out and forget it.

 

Bubba: Kicken? K.C?

 

Kicken: Uh, yeah, sorry!

 

Bubba never calls you that like the others do, so you know this is serious to him.

 

Focus, Kick.

 

Kicken: It was uh… Shit, I dunno.

 

Kicken: I was being chased. You were there, and Picky and Bobby.

 

Bubba: Do you remember what happened?

 

Kicken: I- kinda..? It hurt, whatever it was.

 

Kicken: Felt like I got stabbed.

 

Kicken: Felt like you were in danger, I…

 

You bury your face in your feathers.

 

You don't want to think about this anymore.

 

Bubba: I think you should write it down.

 

Kicken: Huh? Why the fuck would I want to remember a nightmare?

 

Bubba: Nightmares can have as much significance as dreams.

 

Bubba: If your brain was trying to tell you something, it's best to get the most important parts on paper before you forget.

 

Kicken: Y-yeah. Guess you’re right.

 

Bubba hands you a notepad and pencil looking at them with a grimace before giving it to you.

 

Kicken: Sounds like you've done this before.

 

Bubba: Just because I have a large mind, doesn't mean it's under my control any more than yours is.

 

Bubba: Nightmares are normal. Even for me.

 

You just nod, putting pencil to paper before stopping.

 

Kicken: What do I do now? I don't know how it started.

 

Bubba: Just try your best. What do you remember first?

 

Kicken: Uhhh… Bobby was… she was crying.

 

Kicken: I think I was arguing with you or something, then Picky came in to… help?

 

Kicken: N-no she… she bit you.

 

Kicken: I got angry, she had a-… a knife…

 

Bubba: You aren't writing this down.

 

You stare down at the blank paper.

 

Kicken: Shit, uh, yeah…

 

Bubba: You don't have to tell me. Just write.

 

You comply, trying not to think of how she smelt horrible. How Bubba looked when she hurt him…

 

How scared you were, how powerless you felt when she stabbed you.

 

...

 

You can't write anymore.

 

Fuckin’ coward.

 

Kicken: This isn't working.

 

Bubba: It's not something you can solve immediately.

 

He looks empathetic, but sad.

 

Kicken: Nah I mean… it was easier to just talk to you instead of writing it down.

 

Kicken: Writing feels more… permanent.

 

Bubba: It's supposed to be. You need to look back on it.

 

Kicken: Nah. I don't want anyone to know about this.

 

Kicken: Don't want Hops finding K.C’s spooky book of nightmares, do I?

 

You half heartedly laugh.

 

You hate how dejected and worried he looks at that.

 

Kicken: You’re the only person I trust with this, ok?

 

Kicken: And you got a good memory, yeah? It'll work the same as you want it to.

 

Bubba: Ok.

 

Kicken: Promise you won't tell anyone.

 

Bubba: I promise.

 

Kicken: Promise you'll get rid of this stupid notepad?

 

You whap him on the leg with it.

 

Bubba: I will.

 

Kicken: ...

 

Kicken: Promise we'll go out for ice cream and drinks tomorrow?

 

Bubba: Kickeeeennnn…

 

You can tell he's smiling by the way his trunk moves.

 

You love that smile, even if you can't see it.

 

It's like a tiny confirmation that you succeeded in breaking him out of his shell a bit more.

 

Kicken: Fine, fine.

 

Bubba pats your arm before standing to go back to his bed.

 

You grab his hoof for a sec, regretting it as you blush after realising what you just did.

 

Kicken: Sorry, just uh… thanks man.

 

Bubba: Of course. I should thank you for not causing a fuss while I tried to help.

 

Kicken: Ehhh, next time.

 

Bubba looks unsurprised before heading back to his bed.

 

You're relieved Bubba is your dorm mate instead of some rando.

 

Even if there were shared dorms and it was one of the girls, you don't think it would have gone as smooth as it does with Bubba.

 

How many times has he helped you with something by now, huh?

 

How many times have you properly paid him back?

 

How many times have you stumbled over yourself trying to, all because you love how he talks.

 

Way to go dude, way to go.

 

You quietly sigh, leaning back into your pillow just as your phone vibrates.

 

It's Hoppy.

 

Hoppy: ‘Hey birdbrain can I borrow your monster truck to run bobbsies shitty roommate over with’

 

You subdue a snicker.

 

It'd be a good idea, honestly. You hear Bobby’s roommate is this bratty ass, gossip girl with zero sense of personal space.

 

Hoppy’s words of course.

 

Kicken: ‘sure if you can figure out how to smuggle it onto campus.’

 

Kicken: ‘is her room roughly dogdays-house sized or do we gotta make a sick ramp to go along with it’

 

Hoppy: ‘Oh we totally jumpin this thing! As for how idk ask Genius.’

 

At first you thought she was just joking, but it's not the first time you and Hoppy have pulled off some absurd prank.

 

It’s not like anything ever goes wrong, so why not.

 

Kicken: Hey Bubba?

 

He makes an affirmative hum to let you know he's listening, while still trying to think hard about something.

 

Kicken: Do you think maybeeeee…

 

Kicken: You can drive me back to the valley next weekend and I can get my monster truck?

 

You hear his breath hitch for a second and immediately worry he’s about to go on a tangent about whatever he thinks you’re planning.

 

Dang it, why do I always just ask him this stuff? I know it’s not gonna pan out.

 

Wait, seriously, why DO I ask Bubba?

 

Bubba: Kicken, you don't own a monster truck.

 

Huh?

 

Kicken: Uh, yeah I do? Remember when I accidentally drove it into DogDays house?

 

Bubba: Yes, of course.

 

Kicken: Mhm, that was MY monster truck.

 

Bubba: But you don't HAVE a monster truck.

 

He says it like… like he knows it for a fact.

 

Like it’s not even up for debate!

 

You start to get a little angry but you really try to reign it in.

 

Bubba is the last person you want to argue with, especially not like you used to.

 

Kicken: I don't… get it. Where are you going with this?

 

Bubba: Kicken, where did you park it? Which space in the lot, there are only eight.

 

Kicken: Well I - I parked it in mine obviously!

 

Bubba: Which one is that?

 

You don't even have to think to answer that one.

 

Kicken: It's the… It's …

 

What the fuck?

 

Bubba: Kick?

 

Kicken: No, no, wait. This is easy.

 

Which fucking lot is yours again?

 

DogDay’s, then Bubba’s, then-…

 

Bubba: How about this.

 

Bubba: How long did it take to fix DogDays house after the crash?

 

Ah! Trick question!

 

Kicken: It didn't, it was just fine.

 

Kicken: S’why he let me off the hook so easily.

 

Bubba: It was like nothing happened, even though you crashed a vehicle two times the size of the house itself into it.

 

...

 

Bubba: And where did that vehicle go?

 

He holds up the notepad for some reason.

 

Bubba: Or, where did I get this?

 

Kicken: Huh? I mean… I guess you just… had it, yeah?

 

He shakes his head, pointing to the top of the page, where a little rooster emblem is printed next to your name.

 

In your handwriting.

 

You didn't write that.

 

Your brain pushes you to laugh. To make some kind of joke to alleviate this awkward moment where things aren't making sense.

 

Kicken: Aww, you think about me that much? Just had to get a chicken… themed…

 

Bubba just stares back with that expression he gives when he wants you to figure it out on your own.

 

Bubba: I didn't buy this, Kicken. It was meant for you.

 

Kicken: Then where did-

 

Bubba: I don't know.

 

Your head hurts.

 

Bubba: Whether it's themed after you because you were meant to take it, or because I made it, I'm not sure, but there have been things that make no sense happening ever since we were- well, born isn't even the right word I don't think.

 

Kicken: I- I get it, ok?

 

Kicken: I just don't want to think about this.

 

Bubba: You have to!

 

You flinch.

 

Not because you’re scared, but… Bubba never shouts.

 

Even when he's mad he speaks calmly, but just then he sounded… desperate.

 

Bubba: Can you recall anything from before the valley?

 

Bubba: Do you know how we were born? Even If we were born!?

 

Your headache gets worse.

 

Bubba: How old were we all when we first met each other, what was the first thing I ever told you?

 

Kicken: I- I don't…

 

Bubba: Kick, none of us even remember our parents names!

 

Kicken: STOP IT!!!

 

And thank god he does.

 

He just slumps over in the dark with an expression you can't quite make out.

 

Kicken: I don't wanna think about this shit, ok?

 

Kicken: No, I don't remember first meeting you.

 

Kicken: And I hate that… It hurts to think about…

 

Bubba: I-I’m sorry, I didn't…

 

Bubba: I just… hate it so much.

 

Bubba: This world makes no sense and I can't understand it.

 

Bubba: My perfect memory has gaps , and it makes me anxious .

 

Bubba: As soon as I realised something was wrong, I could never unsee it.

 

Bubba: It's like beneath the surface is all one big… cognito hazard.

 

Bubba: And…

 

He gasps.

 

N-no, he's…

 

Crying.

 

Bubba: And I just made you stare right at it…

 

Bubba: I- God DAMN It, I ruined the illusion and now you’re stuck just like I am, I-...

 

He launches the notepad god knows where, burying his face in his hooves.

 

Bubba: I just pulled you in to the SAME FUCKING inescapable trap I've been in for years!

 

Bubba: Like a damn idiot!!!

 

Getting up, you run over and hug him.

 

You feel tears against your shoulder.

 

He's never cried. Never.

 

Kicken: I'm not letting you do this alone Bubs.

 

Kicken: So it's fine. It's ok.

 

Bubba: I- I just forced you to-

 

Kicken: No, I understand.

 

Kicken: It's better I learn now, from you, than alone on my own.

 

Bubba: Y-you shouldn't-...

 

He tries to gently push you away, but you hug tighter.

 

Kicken: You keep me grounded Bubba. Safe.

 

Kicken: So no matter how you think you’ve fucked up, I'll do the same for you.

 

Finally, he hugs back.

 

Bubba: I-I’m so… sorry, Kick…

 

Kicken: It's ok, big guy.

 

God, you’re so tired.

 

What a fuckin’ morning before your last day of break huh?

 

Bubba…

 

.

 

—Bubba—

 

GET UP

 

You get back in bed.

 

You can't help but take nervous glances at him every now and then.

 

His recounting of his nightmare told you everything you need to, but you know you’re going to be keeping your promise whether you like it or not.

 

Because though fragmented, there is no unseeing what you saw in your nightmare.

 

Especially not so perfectly linked with Kick’s that he even said the same exact thing at the same exact time.

 

“Don't please!”, he said, backing away from Picky as she tore that knife away from his stomach.

 

And you just froze.

 

She bit you when you’d jumped in the way of her and Kicken, and you just… froze after…

 

She held him down, raised that god forsaken knife and…

 

You feel tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, but quickly wipe them away from under your glasses.

 

No time to get emotional. You could tell these “nightmares” were headed in a bad direction ever since you started having them.

 

At first it was just the part with Bobby, where she tried to get you and Kicken to stop arguing about something to do with DogDay.

 

You’ve even seen past where Kicken seemingly has, the future being so much foggier and choppier , frustratingly so.

 

You can recall scenes of Crafty’s body, then you running from Picky again with Bobby.

 

Seeing… who you can only assume is CatNap.

 

But it's so distant, so… random.

 

You can only imagine this is what your greatest fear feels like.

 

While it's not bad enough to diagnose yourself as athazagoraphobic, you sure as hell know that the last thing you want is dementia or alzheimers.

 

You nick at the corner of that damn notepad you pulled out of literal nowhere, looking for anything to do but think, for once.

 

Kicken: Hey Bubba?

 

Thank god for you, Kick.

 

You grunt back to let him know you're listening.

 

Kicken: Do you think maybe…

 

Kicken: You can drive me back to the valley next weekend and I can get my monster truck?

 

Well, so much for not thinking.

 

How do you go about this? You're so tired of trying to act like this world is normal.

 

But you're scared of what could happen if people start to find out.

 

Or what could happen if they don't…

 

If you know anything for sure, it’s that you don't want to do this alone anymore.

 

Sure CatNap sees it too, but there are still things he misses.

 

And for the past year it's just been you here, seeing teachers pull rulers from thin air, and students “comedically” jump from windows to avoid awkward, campy situations.

 

Not to mention the people, who are all like carbon copy dolls; mixed and matched in vague ways to seem like they're unique characters, yet all so inextricably linked to the main 17 from the valley.

 

You forget their names and faces so often that it terrifies you.

 

You can't just keep this to yourself anymore.

 

So… here goes nothing.

 

Bubba: Kicken… you don't own a monster truck.

 

He quirks a brow, as expected.

 

Kicken: Uh, yeah I do? Remember when I accidentally drove it into DogDay’s house?

 

Bubba: Yes, of course.

 

One of the more unforgettable “episodes”, as you prefer to call them.

 

Half hours or so where it seems like the world is putting on a show, and you're all the unwitting actors.

 

Your friends feel off. More childish and irresponsible, or just clueless in some cases.

 

Like someone trying to act like them, but overdoing it.

 

Time works abnormally, you all appear in places you never walk, as if cutting to the next scene.

 

You can only control it so little outside the episodes, but when you're in them…

 

You're nothing but puppets.

 

Kicken: Mhm, that was MY monster truck.

 

Bubba: But you don't HAVE a monster truck.

 

Double down. It was the only way CatNap caught on.

 

You see his beak click, a telltale sign he's getting frustrated.

 

Try and ease back. Bring him the answer more smoothly.

 

Kicken: I don't get it. Where are you going with this?

 

Bubba: Kicken, where did you park it? Which space in the lot, there are only eight.

 

Kicken: Well I- I parked it in mine obviously.

 

Bubba: Which one is that?

 

Kicken: It's the… It's …

 

Please Kick, just realise, I know you can.

 

Bubba: Kick?

 

Kicken: No, no, wait . This is easy.

 

He struggles a bit more.

 

He's not stupid, just impulsive. You of all people know that.

 

You just need to say it in a way that he can understand.

 

Bubba: How about this.

 

Bubba: How long did it take to fix DogDay’s house after the crash?

 

Kicken: It didn't, it was just fine.

 

Kicken: S’why he let me off the hook so easily.

 

Exactly. We never had to fix it because it was fixed the moment we looked away.

 

The moment the joke was over. The moment the episode controlling our damn lives had ended.

 

Bubba: It was like nothing happened, even though you crashed a vehicle two times the size of the house itself into it.

 

Bubba: And where did that vehicle go?

 

He's almost there.

 

Just one more push.

 

You take the notepad and show it to him.

 

Bubba: Or, where did I get this?

 

Kicken: Huh? I mean, I guess you just… had it, yeah?

 

You shake your head, pointing out something you didn't realise about it until he gave it back to you.

 

A little emblem of a chicken next to his name.

 

He squints his eyes before a sly grin spreads across his face.

 

Kicken: Aww, you think about me that much? Just had to get a chicken… themed…

 

You stare back, not even acknowledging the joke.

 

His smile fades away, replaced with a look of fearful confusion.

 

It… hurts to see him like that, but you need him to understand.

 

You need someone to know.

 

Bubba: I didn't buy this, Kicken.

 

Kicken: Then where did-

 

Bubba: I   don't   know…

 

He looks away, gears grinding in his head.

 

Bubba: Whether it's themed after you because you were meant to take it, or because I made it, I'm not sure, but there have been things that make no sense happening since we were- well… born isn't even the right word I don't think.

 

Kicken: I- I get it, ok?

 

The sudden interruption makes you pause.

 

Kicken: I just don't want to think about this.

 

You’re losing him.

 

Bubba: You have to!

 

Your voice cracks at a volume you don't often use.

 

He flinches.

 

You notice, but… you need him on this side of enlightenment.

 

You can't   be   alone anymore.

 

Bubba: Can you recall anything before the valley?

 

Please.

 

Bubba: Do you know how we were born? Even If we were born!?

 

Please Kick.

 

Bubba: How old were we all when we first met each other? What was the first thing I ever told you?

 

Kicken: I- I don't…

 

Bubba: Kick, none of us even remember our parents names!

 

Kicken: STOP IT!!!

 

Your ears ring.

 

Your heart pounds.

 

You feel sick, tired.

 

And the tone of anguish in his voice plays over and over in your head.

 

Kicken: I don't wanna think about this shit, ok?

 

You shouldn't have… you shouldn't have…

 

Kicken: No, I don't remember first meeting you.

 

Kicken: It hurts to think about.

 

You shouldn't have hurt him.

 

N-No, this can't be your…

 

Bubba: I-I’m sorry, I didn't…

 

Bubba: I just… hate it so much.

 

Bubba: This world makes no sense and I can't understand it.

 

Bubba: My perfect memory has gaps, and it makes me anxious.

 

Bubba: As soon as I realised something was wrong, I could never unsee it.

 

Bubba: It's like beneath the surface is all one big… cognito hazard.

 

Bubba: And…

 

You just brought Kicken right into it, just like you wanted.

 

Selfishly. Desperately.

 

Without even a thought about how it would affect him.

 

You’ve never felt so… angry, so disgusted at yourself.

 

Bubba: I- God DAMN It, I ruined the illusion and now you’re stuck just like I am, I-...

 

Your body tenses as you lose what little composure you had.

 

The notepad goes flying into a desk, knocking whatever was on it to the floor..

 

Bubba: I just pulled you in to the SAME FUCKING inescapable trap I've been in for years!

 

Bubba: Like a damn idiot!!!

 

You’re a goddamn idiot…

 

Your hoof wraps around your tusk as if to pull it out, the other pulling on your ear.

 

You ground yourself with the pressure, the pain, something you’ve not ever been proud of, but it works, and you need something you’re not going to hurt like you did Kick.

 

Tears well in your eyes, and with no energy to hold them back, they spill over.

 

They're warm , but you feel cold. Sick and cold.

 

And you can't… breathe…

 

But warmth returns, inexplicably.

 

Wings wrapped around you, a shivering feeling as Kicken hugs you close

 

Why is he-..?

 

Kicken: I'm not letting you do this alone Bubs.

 

No…

 

Kicken: So it's fine. It's ok.

 

Stop, I don't deserve this…

 

Bubba: I- I just forced you to-

 

Kicken: No, I understand.

 

Kicken: It's better I learn now, from you, than alone on my own.

 

But it wasn’t your choice…

 

Bubba: Y-you shouldn't-...

 

You try to push away, but he easily overpowers you, only embracing you tighter.

 

Kicken: You keep me grounded Bubba. Safe.

 

...

 

Kicken: So no matter how you think you’ve fucked up, I'll do the same for you.

 

I don't… I can't…

 

You hug back.

 

Bubba: I-I’m so… sorry, Kick…

 

Kicken: It's ok, big guy.

 

You’re so tired.

 

But he came for you, even when you didn't want it.

 

When you didn't deserve it.

 

He's here with you.

 

Kicken…

 

.

Notes:

I Love Them, They Are My Favorite.

That Is All. >w<

Chapter 8: CHAPTER 1: "The Calm Before: Hoppy and Bobby"

Summary:

A hopeless romantic with self worth issues has a bad morning and calls her friend to destress. Unfortunately, her friend is also her crush who she thinks she doesn't deserve.

The bear craves the oblivious bunny more than she hates herself, and that only makes her hate herself more. Thankfully Hoppy enables her "bad habit" of wanting to be loved.

Notes:

Hoppy Is One Of My Favorites To Write I Think. She's Such An Interesting Mix Personality Wise. Not As Brave As Kicken, But Just As If Not More Bold, And Fiercely Protective Of Her Friends Despite Not Knowing Them As Long As Someone Like Bobby or Bubba. But Perhaps That's Just A Bit Of Jasmine Leaking Through. ^w^

—Bobby—

 

GET UP

 

Bobby: AHHHH!!!

 

Oh god…

 

Oh god oh god oh god!

 

You can still smell the blood.

 

You can still hear her screaming in pain.

 

Even when it went dark and you were alone in that empty pool, you heard screaming.

 

So much screaming, so much, so much-

 

You shiver and sob, destroying your pillow with tears you can't help but shed.

 

It’s like you're overflowing with every emotion you had in that factory, all compiled on top of one another.

 

You see CatNap dragging Crafty away, then DogDay, mutilating Hoppy’s leg.

 

She tries to jump. You look away.

 

She didn't even make it to the shelf, hitting her spine as CatNap tried to grab her good ankle.

 

You heard a… a thud…

 

And you ran.

 

You choke out another sob.

 

You had to tell them what happened, but you could barely get the words out.

 

Bubba said you all needed to go help, but Kicken didn't want him to die trying.

 

He said he loved him; that he won't let Bubba even try because if he loses him, he'll have nothing left.

 

Then Picky finally found you.

 

You wanted to help, but…

 

She bit Bubba, stabbed Kicken

 

You don’t know how you got away.

 

Later you were starving, huddled in an empty pool, listening t-to…

 

DogDay.

 

You didn't help.

 

He didn't know who was there, but he begged and pleaded behind agonized screams only dampened by some choking pain.

 

You saw what happened to him afterwards, before CatNap found you.

 

An image burned into your brain of DogDay hung on the wall like a trophy.

 

He met your eyes, but he couldn't say anything.

 

When he first noticed CatNap before you, he started crying.

 

He jolted unnaturally like he was trying to warn you, but…

 

It ends there.

 

It always ends there, but you know there’s more.

 

You just hope you never find out what he did to you.

 

You flinch as you hear the shower turn on.

 

Rabie must be showering.

 

You'll need to as well. You probably look and smell like a mess.

 

Rabie: Daaaaaa, Daa Daaaa~

 

Rabie: Dah Da Dooo doo Daaaaa Daa Daaaaaa~

 

Ughhhhhhhhhhh…

 

Rabie: Youuuu can daaaance! Youuuu can daaaance! Having the time of your liiiifeeee!!!~

 

The pillows, as usual, do nothing, as Rabie belts out your now least favorite Abba song.

 

If there is a god, please make her slip on the soap and break her neck.

 

Rabie: SEE THAT GIRLLLL WATCH THAT SCEEEENE DIGGIN THE DANCIN’ QUEEEEEEEEN!!!~~~

 

There is no god.

After 45 minutes of torture , Rabie comes out to a ball of blankets on your bed, desperate to appear like it's still asleep so she doesn't try and start a conversation with you at 4 IN THE MORNING!!!

 

Eventually she gets on the phone, on SPEAKER PHONE, while she blowdries her fur, having to repeat every other word to Baba over the line.

 

You learn, (against your will might you add), that she's going to a party tonight that's supposedly “totes illegal” and will have spiked clam chowder, and that she wants Baba and some “hunk” she can't stop talking about, to come pick her up.

 

She rambles on about how she thinks this dude is totally gay, and wants to find out all his secrets. “If he really wants in her pants, she's gotta know what kind of man she’s dealing with.”

 

Then finally, she heads for the door.

 

Rabie: Hey gurl, I'm headed out! If the emo gets here, tell her I'm nowhere, K?

 

Rabie: I got hot guys to blow and cold dollahs to snatch.

 

You don’t respond, and she finally leaves.

 

For the first time in a long time you want to hit something.

 

You hope whoever she's trying to out isn't gay, and is an absolute asshole.

 

You also hope Baba gets her head out of her ass and stops hanging out with Rabie.

 

You down four tablets from your stash of headache meds and call on your only source of relief this early in the morning.

 

You text Hoppy.

 

Bobby: ‘Hey Hoppy, r u free?’

 

It's still a bit early, so hopefully she sees it eventually.

 

You really need her right now.

 

.

 

—Hoppy—

 

GET UP

 

You grumble, stopping once again to rest that damn ache in your leg.

 

You went on an early jog, far earlier than normal, thanks to that stupid nightmare.

 

K.C'd get a kick out of it if he knew you got scared by an itty bitty nightmare , but you don't plan on letting him find out anyway.

 

For now though, you're forced to sit and think about it while your leg uncomfortably jitters and jolts .

 

It was dark , you remember that much.

 

You and Bobby were running from something.

 

Something that pulled DogDay into the red tinted darkness behind you.

 

You remember how tired and scared he looked, like you'd all been running for your lives for hours.

 

You stumbled into some sort of big room; onto catwalks above a storage area.

 

It reeked of blood and plastic.

 

Bobby pulled a container over the entrance and you desperately pressed yourself against it as she ran to the end of the catwalk, the only thing separating her from safety being a 25 foot drop with only a large storage shelf in between her and the catwalk on the other side.

 

Bobby was pudgy, you liked it about her in a way, but you knew it was going to be hard for her to do this.

 

Whatever you were running from slamed into the container you're pushing against the door, almost knocking you on your face before you'd pushed back even harder.

 

Bobby looked back at you with terror and tears in her eyes.

 

Bobby: D-Dogday..?

 

Another slam and you slipped, stumbling to turn around to push with your paws instead of your back.

 

Hoppy: Don't think about it Bobby, just go!

 

She looked back tentatively, down at herself, at you- anywhere but the drop.

 

Hoppy: Jump! I’ll meet you on the other side! Please, Bobby, GO!!!

 

She hyped herself up and you turned to focus on keeping that fucker away from her!

 

You heard the metal creak of the tall shelf bending while she jumped too and from it.

 

Thank god…

 

You didn’t wanna admit to yourself that you looked away in case she fell.

 

Bobby: Hoppy, please hurry!

 

You heard the tears in her voice and just as you went to turn and run, something caught your leg between the container and the door.

 

Claws sunk in, finding purchase on your kneecap before pulling it backwards towards the door.

 

You felt a sickening pop, as both flesh and bone were torn out; half of your lower leg pulled through and out the door, leaving it mangled; the rest barely holding on by sinue.

 

You crawled away just as Bobby screamed for you, the container pushed over, your vision turning red.

 

The nightmare may have dulled the pain, but-… f-fuck…

 

You grip that leg as you lay in the grass, failing to will it to stop shaking and bouncing.

 

You've had this before.  

 

What'd Bubba call it? Restless Leg Syndrome?

 

You used to bunny kick in your sleep too, much to the aching bones of Kicken, before he learnt not to put his sleeping bag anywhere close to your legs.

 

You'd always wake up sore though, from the monotonous strain of your legs jolting this way and that while you slept.

 

You hated it.

 

It hurt, and It made the next day so boring since you couldn't do much on an injured leg.

 

Bobby and Kick would often postpone plans to come comfort you, even if you felt horrible for taking time from them.

 

Sometimes you could convince Kicken to go have fun, but Bobby was impossible to convince. She still is.

 

If there’s one person who cares more about others than DogDay does, it's Bobby.

 

She's comforted you more times than you can count, but you don't do… emotions very well.

 

You can tell when she gets stressed, but never know what to do.

 

Even K.C's better at it than you, though that mayyyy just be for Bubba.

 

Fruity ass bird.

 

You snicker to yourself.

 

He's lucky he got paired with him instead of some random.

 

He gets to oggle his crush all day, while you..?

 

Well, Picky's not a bad dorm mate, but you really wish you had Bobby instead.

 

Not just for your own selfish reasons either.

 

Bobby's roommate, well… she's a bitch.

 

Maybe not Grade A, but damn is she one annoying, loud, stalker of anyone mildly interesting.

 

Intrusive, Gossipy fuckin’ bat-

 

You're shaken from your thoughts by a pebble hitting you in the forehead.

 

Simone Smoke; resident douchebag moneypants, stands just a few feet away on the sidewalk.

 

Simone: The fuck are you up to, Limeade?

 

Hoppy: On my morning jog. Sidewalk’s free to use Smokers Lung.

 

Simone: Bruh, you can't even come up with a good insult Hopscotch. I don't think you even deserve the sidewalk after that one.

 

You can't help but scowl at his stupid smirk.

 

Hoppy: The fuck does ‘Limeade’ mean anyways!?

 

You stand up, wobbling on your currently stunted leg for a sec, but try to play it off.

 

Simone: Lil Kicks is the lemon, you're the lime.

 

Simone: Two peas in a nasty, sour pod.

 

Hoppy: Fuck off Simone. The hell are you doin’ out here this early anyway?

 

Simone: The fuck you think?

 

He emphasizes his stupid forced accent as he flicks cigarette ash towards you.

 

You just scoff again; making it look more like a gag than anything.

 

Simone: Don't get your panties in a twist, I do whatever the fuck I want.

 

Hoppy: Then think long and hard about screwing off.

 

You brush past him, shoulder check and all as you head back towards your dorm.

 

Simone: Rowdy bitch…

 

Your unfortunately good ears pick that up, but you're too tired to get into a fight right now.

Opening the door to your dorm a little harder than you meant to, you see Picky laying down on her bed, chin to her pillow as she scrolls on her phone.

 

Hoppy: Sorry Picks, did I wake you earlier when I left?

 

She looks up, just shaking her head.

 

You flump down on your bed with a massive, exaggerated groan.

 

Picky eyes you from behind her phone before sitting up.

 

Picky: You K?

 

You feel a little guilty provoking this, especially with Picky, who's nearly as quiet and subdued as CatNap.

 

Buuuut you really need to blow off some steam after running into Simone.

 

Hoppy: Do you know that red, dragon asshole; Simone Smoke?

 

Picky: Mhm. He break up with you or somethin’?

 

Hoppy: Wha- Ew no!

 

She just shrugs her shoulders.

 

Hoppy: No, the dude is just- wait, how do you know him?

 

She looks away out the window, her usual unreadable expression on her face.

 

Picky: Friends with Mako. She used to date ‘im.

 

Hoppy: Ohhhh yeah! Anyways, he was bein’ an asshole while I was on my morning jog, and I kinda wanna go punch his face in.

 

Your fist hits paw to make your point.

 

Picky: Mhm. So does Mako.

 

Hoppy: Really? Well at least I have one thing in common with those Halloween store assholes.

 

Picky looks up from her phone, the smallest look of incredulity on her face.

 

Hoppy: Except for Mako!

 

You chuckle nervously, that stupid rabbit squeak echoing in between, giving away your nervousness.

 

Thankfully Picky is a forgiving mistress and lets you off easy.

 

Picky: Phone wen’ off earlier.

 

Hoppy: Oh thanks!

 

Picky: Ayup.

 

You yoink your phone up off the end table.

 

Unfortunately you have nowhere to put it because your sweats don't have good pockets, and you refuse to carry a purse, especially when running.

 

Your paw starts to thump as you see the contact name.

 

“Bobby <3” with a heart. Because of her old pendant of course, no other reason.

 

You excitedly roll over, opening up the messenger app and seeing what she sent you.

 

Bobby: ‘Hey Hoppy, r u free?’

 

Half an hour ago. You feel kinda bad for making her wait.

 

Hoppy: ‘Sry bobs yeah whast iup’

 

Hoppy: ‘*What is up?’

 

You internally groan.

 

Why is there no edit mode on messenger apps like everywhere else!?

 

She responds almost immediately.

 

Bobby: L.O.L. Rabies is out, and I wanted to hang out with u, if u r done with ur morning jog!

 

She caps it off with an image of a small stock critter running.

 

You plant your face in your pillow due to the violent mix of charm and cringe Bobby’s texts give off.

 

Ughhhhh she’s so lucky you like her or you couldn't help teasing her over the way she types “LOL.”

 

Hoppy: ‘No problem Bobblem. Im omw now.’

 

Bobby: ‘You’re whaaaat!?’

 

Hoppy: ‘On my way lol.’

 

Bobby: ‘Ohhhh, Yippee!’

 

She promptly fills the rest of the screen with confetti images.

 

Picky: Bobby?

 

You look up from your phone to see Picky staring back from her bed.

 

Hoppy: H-How’d you know?

 

Picky: Yer face.

 

You blush.

 

Hoppy: U-uh, just a lucky guess Picks.

 

Picky: Nnnnope.

 

You’re stunned for a moment at the most confrontational you've ever seen Picky outside ordering people around a kitchen.

 

Picky: Ya smile different.

 

Aaaand the blush is back.

 

Hoppy: W-well , I gotta go Picky, have a good sunday, bye!

 

You hop up, rushing to the door just as Picky catches you by the hem of your tank top.

 

Picky: Keys. Ahm leavin’ too.

 

Hoppy: Oh, Thanks!

 

You snatch up your keys and are out the door, heading towards the elevator looking more like pink lemonade than limeade.

 

.

 

—Bobby—

 

After taking a shower, (not without cleaning Rabies fur from the drain because it’d clog), you sit down on your bed, picking up a beanie you’ve been making for the better part of the week.

 

The minutes tick by in the dark room, as you mindlessly knit away at one of your countless projects, most stored back at the valley.

 

Ohhhh, the valley~...

 

You just wish you were back in the valley.

 

You should have gone back during break, at least to say hi to Day and…

 

No, you know why you stayed, and not just because everyone else did.

 

You set the half finished beanie down, sighing.

 

You wish you were as brave as Kicken.

 

You would have confronted CatNap by now.

 

Ratted Rabie out on a noise complaint at the very least.

 

You would tell Hoppy that you know she likes you.

 

Hah, yeah right. And ruin your friendship over a rumor.

 

An educated rumor yeah, but even if she did, you aren't in her league.

 

Who you are around her is, but that's not really you.

 

No, you can't tell her that.

 

If anything happens, it’s gotta be her asking you, and then… then you'll have no choice but to show her who you really are.

 

Your phone vibrates.

 

Hoppy: ‘Sry bobs yeah whast iup’

 

Hoppy: ‘*What is up?’

 

You smile.

 

Bobby: ‘L.O.L. Rabies is out, and I wanted to hang out with u, if u r done with ur morning jog!’

 

Hoppy: ‘No problem Bobblem. Im omw now.’

 

You crack up a bit. Hoppy always makes you laugh.

 

The last bit kind of confuses you though.

 

Bobby: ‘You’re whaaaat!?’

 

Hoppy: ‘On my way lol.’

 

Oh, now you feel kinda dumb. Wait, is that how you’re supposed to type L.O.L???

 

Bobby: ‘Ohhhh, Yippee!’

 

Ugh, confetti, more confetti.

 

Fill the void of embarrassment with confetti.

 

... Good enough. Aaaand send.

 

You lay back, letting the fan batten you with enough wind to make you feel like a living creature, rather than a rock cursed with a brain.

 

Cause no matter how difficult life keeps getting, you care about everyone.

 

And a rock doesn't care.

 

It just… rocks.

 

It just is. That's something you envy about rocks.

 

But even if you had a choice, you'd never give up this bleeding heart you have, no matter how much it can hurt.

 

You hear someone walk up to your door.

 

Jumping up, you quickly flick the lights on, ready to see Hoppy before-

 

Baba: Shh! She has a roommate dumbass! Quiet!

 

A familiar voice knocks on your door, filling you with disappointment.

 

At least It's someone you pity instead of someone you hate.

 

Baba: Rabes, you here!?

 

Happy voice, happy voice.

 

Bobby: Sorry Baba, she just left earlier!

 

Simone: Damn, she sounds cute.

 

Baba: Fuck up, horndog.

 

You hear her elbow whoever is with her.

 

Baba: She say where she went?

 

Bobby: No, just that she was… gonna get some money?

 

You decided not to mention that it's by whoring herself out.

 

You have no problem with people who do that, just a problem with her as a person, and possibly ruining her life in the eyes of her friends isn't on your agenda.

 

Baba: Ugh, that could mean like, 12 different things...

 

Bobby: Sorry Baba, that's all she said.

 

Baba: Eh, it's fine Cupcakes, thanks for the help anyway.

 

Bobby: Of course, anytime Baba! Nice to hear from you!

 

Baba: You too Bearhug.

 

She has a genuine tone to her voice you don't hear often from her, even when it was just you two alone in class back in middle school.

 

As soon as she's gone, you sit back down in a huff, the disappointment from earlier coming back full force.

 

You start to regret calling Hoppy.

 

If she was busy, she’d drop it for you, and it's so early in the morning that she MUST have been doing something to be up this early.

 

So you had to have interrupted her, like an idiot.

 

Great going Bobby-

 

.

 

Getting in the elevator , you press the button for floor two, and lean back against the wall, sighing.

 

D-did you just swoon? Seriously!?

 

Maybe it's just cause you had a rough morning, ok? You're just happy to hang out with Bobby after running into-

 

Hoppy: Simone!?

 

The elevator hits floor two, the door opening to reveal Simone, Baba and a gout of cigarette smoke that you struggle not to cough at.

 

Simone: Jaysus, can't get enough of me, can ya?

 

Baba snirks, but otherwise stays buried in her phone.

 

Hoppy: What the fuck are you doing in the girls dorm!?

 

Simone: Calm your shit, girl! I have Babs with me. We're lookin’ for Rabe.

 

Hoppy: Dude, I dunno where she is , can you just move so I can go?

 

Simone rolls his eyes, puffing some smoke in your face as you walk past.

 

But he says something that makes you turn right back around and get up in his face.

 

Simone: Tell cupcakes if her roommate's missin’, then I have an open spot on mah dick.

 

Baba stumbles back as you stamp hard on Simone's claw, grabbing him by the collar.

 

Hoppy: The FUCK did I tell you ‘bout talking about her like that!?

 

He's shocked for a second before that sick fucking smirk spreads across his face again.

 

Simone: Christ, Relaaax Hops, we're all adults here!

 

Simone: If you wanted a turn instead, you j- OUGH!!!

 

You knee him right in the dick before stepping back and kicking him backwards into the elevator, Baba barely swerving out of his way.

 

Baba: The fuck Hoppy!?

 

Just then the door starts to close, but you keep on glaring down at Simone until he can't see you anymore.

 

You take a deep breath.

 

It's not nearly enough.

 

You need to either punch someone or hug Bobby, and you don't really have anything to punch anymore.

 

So you speedwalk up the stairs and down the hall towards Bobby’s dorm, hoping those two didn't come asking for Rabies, or just left when they didn't get an answer.

 

You knock.

 

Bobby: Baba, I told you, she left like two-!

 

Just as she opens the door, you launch into a hug.

 

After only a moment she hugs back tight.

 

Bobby: Hoppy, sorry! I thought you were someone else!

 

Pulling back, you look her over as if something was wrong, even though you know they probably didn't do anything.

 

Hoppy: Did you know Simone was with her!?

 

Bobby: W-what? This is the girls dorm.

 

Hoppy: Exactly! Baba let him in somehow!

 

Bobby: Oh, well… it's not our business, but…

 

Hoppy: No , you don't understand , that guy’s the worst! Please tell me if you see him again, especially around you.

 

Bobby: O-ok Hoppy.

 

You sigh, pulling back and fully entering the room.

 

Bobby: Did they… do anything to you?

 

Hoppy: No Bobby, just… Please stay away from him. I don't like how he talks about us.

 

As you sit down on her bed, she does too.

 

Bobby: Ok. I promise.

 

You sigh, relief finding you ever since your jog.

 

Hoppy: Thank you.

 

Suddenly, Bobby puts a paw on your knee, making you tense, and blush, and AHHHH WHY OUT OF NOWHERE!?

 

Bobby: Oop! Sorry, It's just that you’re thumping again.

 

Hoppy: OH! Uhhhh, sorry! I didn't notice.

 

She giggles, resting her paw there as your leg thumps away.

 

Bobby: It only does that when you’re happy, yeah?

 

Or stressed, but you do NOT want her worrying about you.

 

Hoppy: U-uh… yeah!

 

You can't help but smile as she gently rubs your knee.

 

Bobby: You must be veeeery happy huh~?

 

W-what is she-?

 

Bobby: So who is it!?

 

She beams at you, that crazy bright Bearhug smile.

 

Hoppy: W-what!? What do you mean?

 

Bobby: Oh c'mon Hoppy, I've known you for our whole lives! I can tell when you’ve got a crush!

 

Hoppy: I've never had a crush before! How would you be able to tell!?

 

Bobby: Well, you just said “before” for one!

 

Damn it!

 

Hoppy: S-slip of the tongue Bobs, honest!

 

Bobby: Oh, I KNOW you've got a crush, Hop!

 

Bobby: And Kicken k nows , and Bubba and Picky-

 

Kick, you little fuckin’ traitor-!!!

 

Bobby: So whoooo is it Hopscotch!?

 

Bobby: Who's the lucky man!

 

Hoppy: I-it's not…

 

Bobby: Oh , of course sorry! Or woman or Creature From Beyond.

 

She giggles and you just can't fight back that big, dumb, stupid smile on your face.

 

Bobby: Oh, you gotta tell me something Hoppy, I'm dyin’ over here!

 

Stop thumping, stop blushing, stop THINKING!

 

You can’t look at her but out of the corner of your vision, she tilts her head looking worried.

 

Bobby: Hey , It’s ok if you wanna keep it private, I’m just teasing ok?

 

You nod stiffly, not trusting any words you make to be coherent.

 

Bobby: If you're having trouble telling them, I'm here for you. For anything you need, ok?

 

Oh gaawwd, she's perfect!

 

Have mercy Bobby, you cruel mistress!

 

You sigh, hesitating to put your paw on hers before you redirect to your shoulder, rubbing it awkwardly like literally nobody does.

 

Just give her something Hoppy, you hopeless fuckin’ lesbian!

 

Hoppy: I uh… Agh, I don't know what to say…

 

Bobby: Nothing if you don't wanna. I’m happy you found someone, whoever they are.

 

Hoppy: I want to say something to you at least.

 

Bobby: It's ok! Take all the time you need.

 

You just breathe, hitching slightly as she leans against you comfortingly.

 

Despite that, you do collect yourself enough to create a functioning sentence.

 

Hoppy: It's… girl…

 

Ok, half-functioning.

 

.

 

—Bobby—

 

Now it's your turn to lose your breath.

 

You sit up, staring right back at her as all your hopes you'd been holding back collide and expand.

 

Girl.

 

Girl!

 

That's what you are!!!

 

Sure, It could be Picky, but she's already told the group she's straight!

 

And Crafty’s Aroace, so-..!

 

You hug her tight, knowing full well she doesn't know the true extent of why you’re so excited.’

 

Confirmation!

 

It's real!

 

You pull back, rapidly tapping her shoulder with your paws before shaking her in glee.

 

Bobby: AHHH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!!!

 

She's blushing so much, you love this!

 

You love her!

 

Oh…

 

A sense of dread hits you hard, but you stay composed, only twitching for a moment.

 

You love her.

 

You really really love her, so much more than you thought.

 

This could ruin you.

 

Ruin you both.

 

Just… stay composed, she just came out to you, and that's what matters most.

 

Bobby: Welcome to the gay side! Our army grows stronger by the minute!

 

You give a goofy salute which she laughs at.

 

Until she suddenly shakes her head before covering her face with her ears, blush even more obvious than before.

 

Bobby: Hehehe! Don’t be embarrassed Hoppy! Like I said, I'm here for you allll the way!

 

Hoppy: You’re queer t-too? T-that's the right term right?

 

Bobby: Mhm! And that’s the right term, yeah!

 

Bobby: I know it can be a liiiittle daunting, but you don't gotta worry about all the flags and terms unless you wanna!

 

Bobby: For example, I’m Pansexual, which means I like everyone!

 

Hoppy: You’ve always liked everyone.

 

Bobby: Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm “attracted” to everyone though.

 

Bobby: Even if, well, I am!

 

Her grin turns from flustered to encouraged, reminding you of how she was back when you were kids, always up to do something fun for everyone.

 

Always willing to put herself out there and try something new, and not just try, but strive to be the best at it.

 

Bobby: What about you? Do you think you’d date someone other than a girl?

 

Hoppy: N-no, I don't think so?

 

You think of that picture of that dog who knows what you are.

 

Bobby: Then you’re probably a lesbian! Quite a butch one too!

 

You can't help yourself at this point.

 

You really want to let you know you appreciate her, even if you can't do so as much as you'd want right now.

 

Hoppy: I've heard that one before, but whaddya mean?

 

Bobby: Well, it basically means you’re athletic , and sporty, and hot~!

 

You gently poke at her stomach, watching her blush as you hear her leg tapping against the floor.

 

Oh wow, she's uh… she sure is built, huh?

 

You quickly retreat as you try and fail not to blush.

 

Bobby: But really, it just means you maybe aren't as feminine coded as the rest of us, but of course you're still just as much of a girl than I am!

 

Hoppy: T-there's a term for that!?

 

Bobby: Yep! There's a term for a lot of stuff! Usually made and used by people who find it attractive to them!

 

Attractive is an understatement.

 

Sometimes you can't help but stare at her, honestly, but that's ONLY during seasons where you really just can't help it!

 

Ugh. Control yourself Bobby. You're gonna do something way too forward if you don't.

 

Hoppy: Oh, s-so what's, uhhh… what was it called… ‘Yuri?’

 

Uh oh...

 

She saw…

 

Bobby: Oh that? That's just a…

 

Bobby: Where did you learn about that.

 

Hoppy: wuh oh…

 

She saw, she saw your secrets!

 

Why, why did she have to see!?!?!?

 

Hoppy: J-just saw it on the cover o-of some of the books you and Crafty were checking out of the library that one time!

 

You hide your flustered, blush ridden face away in your paws.

 

Hoppy: It's nothing bad, right!?

 

O h, you sweet summer kit.

 

Bobby: N-no! Not bad, just sometimes it can be… well not safe for school… only sometimes!

 

Or sometimes it’s just 100+ pages of smut!

 

Bobby: I have no idea why those were there, probably planted as a prank by some girls, but…

 

Bobby: We didn't want them to go to waste if they got found by staff.

 

You couldn't let them just pass you by, you HAD to take them before they were gone forever!

 

Hoppy: C-... Can I see?

 

Stunned, you don't realise Hoppy has moved until she's shot up and backed towards the door.

 

Hoppy: S-sorry! I wasn't thinkin’ ‘bout it as I s-said itbobbysorry!

 

Did she really just ask you t-to share-...

 

You reach down below your bed without thinking, and toss the first book on the stack at her.

 

Y-you just… You just gave your crush porn you look at every other night.

 

A-and you wanted too.

 

Auuuughhh, you’re the worst, the WORST, BOBBY BEARHUG!!!

 

Bobby: You can have it for however long, but I’m just lending it ok?

 

You never want to see it again.

 

Partly because you like the idea of her having it, but-

 

NO, no, wholesome thoughts!

 

Bobby: T-thanks for hanging out with me and- and coming out to me and stuff!

 

Hoppy: W-wait! I have nothing to carry this in!

 

Shit!

 

Oh, and you have an even worse idea when you see your jacket on the bed.

 

You launch it at her before pushing her out the door the rest of the way.

 

Bobby: Here you go! You can just keep that.

 

She wraps up the yuri book quickly before turning to you, blush softening as you stare at each other from either side of the door.

 

Bobby: ...

 

Hoppy: ...

 

Bobby: T-thank you, for coming over, honestly.

 

Bobby: I'm so happy you decided to come out to me, even if I kept asking like that.

 

Hoppy: Of course Bobby. You’re like my best friend aside from Kicken.

 

Hoppy: Y'know, it’s like… it feels different with you.

 

Her smile makes your heart jump.

 

She's right. There is nothing like the feeling of being with her.

 

Bobby: I know what you mean. Even Crafty and I aren't as close as I am with you.

 

Bobby: So… thanks!

 

Hoppy: ‘Course!

 

Hoppy: Cya later…

 

Bobby: Bye…

 

And you both stand, a little too long for comfort, before she waves, walking off as you gently close your door.

 

A minute later you’re screaming into your pillow.

 

You did it!

 

Oh my god, you actually confirmed it!

 

S-she has your jacket  and you lost some porn, but the benefits of that are yet to be seen!

 

Oh, you can easily imagine- nope!

 

No! Stop!

 

You can't let your hypersexual ass get ahead of yourself with such a delicate situation.

 

Hoppy is your best friend , and while you hate to admit you've thought about her like that multiple times before, you are so, so close to actually having her beside you.

 

You need to do this right.

 

You need to give her every opportunity and you need to let HER make this decision.

 

She has to be happy.

 

Make Hoppy Happy.

 

Happy Hoppy, hop hop hop.

 

Hop on over and be mine.

 

Please..?

 

... You bury your face back in the pillow.

 

You've already started going nuts for her haven't you…

 

.

 

—Hoppy—

 

You look down at the jacket as you walk back towards your dorm room, almost forgetting about the book inside as you come to terms with what you’re holding.

 

It smells like roses, it's warm like her.

 

You hold it close.

 

.

Notes:

I Know I Write Bobby A LOT Differently Than Other Folks Do. Sure, She Has The Self Deprication, Detachment Issues, Dependancy On Having People She Cares About Around, But Being Hypersexual, Is Definitely Something I Dont See People Do. She's A Romantic, And Most Romantics Tend To Lean Wholesome, And Not Exactly Deviants Of Any Kind, But Bobby Has A Lot Of Reasons To Run Hot When Put In The Position To. She Likes Feeling That Way And Is Drawn Towards It, But Still Sees Herself As Some Sort Of Sinner Because Of That.

In Short, I Think It's In Character For A Bear So Desperate For Physical Attention Yet So Hard On Herself For Being So Dependant.

Chapter 9: CHAPTER 1: "The Calm Before: Picky and Crafty"

Summary:

The two arguably most obscure critters have breakfast together, however both are struggling with unique problems that neither can solve, even if they told one another. All they can do is be their for their friend, especially when there's a very unwelcome visit by someone from Crafty's most shameful memories.

Notes:

Ok, Maybe Picky Is My Favorite To Write, IDK Anymore! She's Easily The Least Fleshed Out Character In The Fandom, And In Canon, So I Decided To Go With My Gut And Do A Big Change To Her Character. Unlike The Rest, She's Heavily Effected By Her Reflection, But Besides That, She's Different To What We Know About Her In Canon. I've Chosen The Bold Decision Of Completely Disregarding The Very Few Lines We Get From Her, And Making Her A Quiet, Socially Awkward Cowgirl With A Heavy Accent That She Doesn't Like To Flaunt. I've Even Matched The Narration To It, So Hopefully That Doesn't Annoy Folks. But Yeah, I Like Her And The Direction I'm Taking Her. Sorry Though, She May Be My Punching Bag For A Bit Regarding The Reflections. Fac Picky Is Kinda Really Fucked Up In A Way None Of Others (Excluding Crafty) Are.

—Crafty—

 

GET UP

 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you gather your senses back to you.

 

You take a biiiig deep breath as you stretch and yawn.

 

Coughing a little, you come back down from the stretch feeling refreshed.

 

For a moment you just listen to your soundtrack become less muddled from waking up.

 

Duvet. Today is going to be ok, you think.

 

Standing up, you wobble your way into the shower, dancing and swaying to the gorgeous solo, whistling along as you wash.

 

Coming out refreshed and clean, you turn on your lights.

 

A catastrophic mess greets you as you remember how cluttered you let it get during the summer, clothes and paper and canvases line the floor.

 

Crafty: Hehe, oops.

 

Crafty: How'd you let it get like this, huh Carmen?

 

Knowing this is your last day before the semester, you set to cleaning up, briefly skipping through your playlist on the hunt for the best song.

 

Stickerbrush Symphony. You smile, remembering a cover you loved from a fighting game Hoppy and Kicken always used to play, which got you into video game OST's in the first place, despite not playing many of them.

 

So many of those songs have fun memories connected to them, and experiencing those again makes real life a little more bearable.

 

As you clean and organize, you gently sing some lyrics you came up for the melody to yourself.

 

You would never let anyone else hear them, and they probably don't even match the context of wherever the song is played in-game, but you sing anyways, the lyrics reminding you of what you thought when you made them in the first place.

 

Crafty: I could swear I heard that line in another song, but I just can't remember.

 

In no time, your room is spick and spam, artworks you liked making hung proudly on the wall, the rest in the corner of shame behind your desk.

 

Crafty: Everything has a place, everything in its place.

 

Clothes neatly folded and ordered both by type and color, and papers put in folders as well as you can without having labelled the date on any of your doodle pages.

 

Crafty: Not to mention the writing projects…

 

Those have their own drawer of shame within the corner of shame, right next to those books you and Bobby took from the library for… inspiration.

 

Crafty: Nobody can know. Nobody…

 

Either way, the deed is done and your room is clean!

 

Crafty: See, that wasn't so-

 

A knock at the door shocks you so bad you jump, red heat reaching your face like an old, annoying friend.

 

You take out your earbuds, praying to whatever god exists that whoever is at the door didn't hear you.

 

Ms. Greyber: Sorry to bother you two, but I have a letter for Carmen Corn?

 

Ms. Greyber: It's from the Principal.

 

Crafty: J-just a second!

 

Wholly embarrassed that you were nearly caught talking to yourself, you double check your room quickly before opening the door to greet the front desk attendant of the girls dorm, Stella Greyber.

 

Crafty: Hi Ms. Greyber, good timing! I was just about to get in the shower after my… friend!

 

Ms. Greyber: Ah, well I'll let you get to it. And don't worry about this, you're not in trouble or anything!

 

She hands you the letter and you realise you'd almost immediately forgotten that she said it was from the Principal.

 

Crafty: T-thank you, Miss. Have a nice morning!

 

Ms. Greyber: You too Ms. Corn.

 

You shuffle at the name as she walks away, closing your door before staring at the letter.

 

She said it wasn't bad, but you can't think of any reason the principal would write to you that would end well.

 

You brace yourself, opening it carefully.

 

‘Dear Carmen P. Corn. It has come to my knowledge that the girls dormitories on campus have finally reached maximum capacity.’

 

‘When you arrived, you had been placed in a room without another dorm member due to the disproportionate amount of girls at the time of your arrival. Upon reaching the dorms capacity, the only space left for our newest student is your current dorm room.’

 

‘Thus, we request you make adequate space for your new dorm member by lunchtime, and urge you to welcome her with open arms. After all, every student deserves a safe home during their stay at Educare University, and we hope the found families you make within your dorms cultivate strong bonds and friendships that last well into your adulthoods.’

 

‘Thank you for your time, and a personal thank you to you and the Art club for the beautiful mural you all made in the east wing last year. You are a talent to this school we will not soon forget. Principal Ludwig, Elliot Sr.’

 

Oh…

 

You look around your room, the other bed left empty aside for the suitcase and school bag you store on it.

 

It… won't be that bad, yeah?

 

It's just another girl! A complete stranger who you have never spoken to before, but just some other girl!

 

You put your headphones in and scroll quick through your phone to try and find something to stop you from thinking.

 

Vaporwave? Dreamcore? Alt? Vocaloid?

 

... Breakcore.

 

Of all the game soundtracks you've never played the games of which they originate, Ultrakill is not one of them.

 

Kicken got you into it despite the name of the game, and it's been a guilty pleasure keeping you from schoolwork and artblock alike.

 

So it's fitting that it will stop you now, from worrying so much your horn starts to hurt.

 

Realizing you're pacing, you sit down heavy on your bed.

 

This isn't working!

 

Taking out your phone again you scroll to contacts.

 

Friend time. No think, just friends!

 

You must be desperate to go asking to do something with them.

 

You usually wait to be invited or just appreciate the time you get alone, but now you won't have ANY time alone will you!

 

Just as you're about to pick out one of the only eight names in your contacts (we don't talk about the one at the bottom), you get a text from Picky.

 

Picky: ‘you up?’

 

Crafty: ‘Yeah what's up!’

 

Picky: ‘want Makos?’

 

Crafty: ‘Yep! I'll meet you there!’

 

Picky: ‘okayyyy’

 

You cringe at your perceived eagerness, before shaking it away and getting ready.

 

.

 

—Picky—

 

GET UP

 

You feel like you're gonna be sick.

 

Jolting from your bed makes it worse and you barely make it to the bathroom before emptying your guts into the shower.

 

Coughing and spluttering, you try to ignore the sickly sting of vomit coating your throat, and the dull pressure of your collarbone uncomfortably pressed against the tub as you wretch.

 

Looking down at the blurry blackish mess you've made, doesn't help the nausea as it lingers a bit longer than you'd like this time.

 

You curse your stupid fucked up head for imagining a red-stained yellow feather floating listlessly within.

 

When you eventually feel the unnatural fever fade, you slump down, turning your back to the edge of the shower, limply splayed across the bathroom floor.

 

You weakly lean over and grab the paper towel roll, cleaning yourself off while lamenting your inability to reach the toilet in time.

 

You'll have to clean this out now, ‘case Hoppy gets back from her jog.

 

Shakily standing, you check to see that Hoppy had already left, hopefully before you got sick.

 

You hate how worried she looks when ya wake her up like that, plus she really don't do well with sickness on the best of days.

 

Mind still reeling from your body's rude awakening, you try and collect yourself as you turn the shower on, spending some of your soap bottle on the bile in hopes it'll clean a bit better.

 

Alone with nothin’ but the shower in your ears, your mind wanders back to the nightmare.

 

Years and years of the same dream.

 

You'd done everythin’ you can think of to get a normal night's rest, but all you've managed, even with Bubba's suggestions, was to take some pills he'd had on hand every night before bed, to stop you from getting sick every mornin’.

 

Pills you didn't take last night.

 

You stare down at the puke, slowly drifting off into the drain, your expression the same as it ever is.

 

You stopped trying to convince yourself you'd just forgotten to take the pills.

 

Some nights you just… can't.

 

Bubba obviously pays for them monthly, otherwise how’d he have so many?

 

He helps everyone , not to mention always has somethin’ else going on, making anythin’ extra even more of a burden.

 

Nah, ya just can't take those pills sometimes.

 

Be it for wantin’ to make ‘em last so he doesn't have to get more, or…

 

Sometimes because they taste like him.

 

Another wonderfully fucked up thing your brain likes to do.

 

You don't know if the pills taste normal, and the nightmare makes Bubba taste like pills , or if that savory metallic flavor your mind thought up, invades your senses whenever you try to get ‘em down.

 

Either way, ya haven't been able to keep dinners in for the last week.

 

You turn off the shower, sighing while the sound still exists to hide your emotions.

 

Walking back into the dorm, you mindlessly snatch the bottle off your end table, popping two down your throat and walking back to the bathroom.

 

Your conscious comes back as you hover over the toilet, so used to the monotony of “not thinking,” and just taking your meds before your brain starts making you gag.

 

You do, but with nothing left in your system to force them out, the pills stay, and the new bout nausea eventually passes, leaving that lingering taste of elephant.

 

Sitting back down on your bed, your stomach growls somethin’ mighty.

 

Shuddup, ya big ol’, greedy lump a’ flesh…

 

You take out your phone to, distract yer guts, but do fuck all but stare at the home screen until Hoppy gets back.

 

The door nearly flies into her desk as she opens it, but she thankfully manages to catch it before having to pay the school a fee.

 

Hoppy: Sorry Picks, did I wake you earlier when I left?

 

You shake your head no.

 

It's fine even if she did. After all the times you've woken her, you don't deserve the same kindness.

 

She saunters over to her bed and falls into it like a sack o’ potatoes, letting out what's either an extraordinarily relieved sigh, or a groan of agony.

 

Still unsure of what to even do, you lower your phone, deeming Hoppy shenanigans more than worthy of quellin’ yer hunger.

 

Picky: You K?

 

She hesitates for a moment before sitting up with a start, subdued fury in her eyes.

 

Hoppy: Do you know that red, dragon asshole; Simone Smoke?

 

Kinda.

 

You don't know the guy past hearing Mako ramble about how much of a landmine he is.

 

Picky: Mhm. He break up with you or somethin’?

 

Hoppy: Wha- Ew no!

 

You shrug.

 

It’s relieving to hear she didn’t fall for any of that fucksticks wiles after the horror stories you've heard.

 

Hoppy: No, the dude is just- wait, how do you know him?

 

Apart from being a general douchenozzle, he apparently goes through women like a cow at pasture.

 

Herds em in, and treats em like a hole when he's done lyin’ to em.

 

Picky: Friends with Mako. She used to date ‘im.

 

Hoppy: Ohhhh yeah! Anyways, he was bein’ an asshole while I was on my morning jog, and I kinda wanna go punch his face in.

 

She buries a fist in her paw with a glare on her face.

 

Picky: Mhm. So does Mako.

 

Hoppy: Really? Well at least I have one thing in common with those Halloween store assholes.

 

You give her a little deadpan from behind your phone.

 

Not all of them are as bad as Simone or Rabie.

 

Unfortunately the only people in your group who actually talk to theirs are you and Bobby, and Kicken doesn't talk to his cousin much, so you wouldn't count them.

 

But Hoppy at least knows Mako, and so she knows how unfair lumpin’ ‘er in with the “bad folk” is.

 

Hoppy: Except for Mako!

 

She nervously squeaks, and you decide to let it be.

 

Picky: Phone wen’ off earlier.

 

When you'd sat down after cleaning, Hoppy'd gotten maybe 12 notifications.

 

You didn't look, of course, but you can assume that 2/3rds of them were exercise apps and the like, with only Bobby or Kicken viably textin’ ‘er this early.

 

Hoppy: Oh thanks!

 

Picky: Ayup.

 

With thoughts currently on your friends, and stomach still a’ rumbuh tumblin’, you decide to see if Mako is up for an early breakfast.

 

Picky: ‘you up?’

 

It surprisingly doesn't take long for her to answer.

 

Is everyone gettin’ up before the roosters or what?

 

Mako: ‘Yeps. Ma has me working one last day fore school starts.’

 

Picky: ‘breakfast?’

 

Mako: ‘Sure! Cmon down if yeh don't mind bein surrounded by boring business folk before their coffee!’

 

Just as you finish up, a sound catches your ear.

 

Hoppy's paw fervently taps at the carpet, and the look on her face tells you all you need to know.

 

She rolls over onto her bed, tappin’ away so fast her fingers could fly off.

 

Picky: Bobby?

 

Hoppy: H-How’d you know?

 

You gently point at the blushing rabbit.

 

Picky: Yer face.

 

She stills, obviously caught off guard at being called out.

 

She's gotta make her move eventually, but your not very good at this kinda thing.

 

Bobby'd usually be the one to help some poor lass with a crush, but it's not like the crushee can do much past askin’ er out first.

 

Hoppy: U-uh, just a lucky guess Picks.

 

Picky: Nope.

 

Picky: Ya smile different.

 

Another chitter from the rabbit makes you regret making her uncomfortable by pushin’ it.

 

Learn t’ keep yer trap shut, damnit…

 

Hoppy: W-well, I gotta go Picky, have a good sunday, bye!

 

She hops up quick, a token to her name, rushing to the door before you catches her by the hem of her tank top.

 

Picky: Keys. I'm leaving too.

 

Hoppy: Oh, Thanks!

 

She nearly stumbles, scooping up her keys before she's out the door, blush contrastin’ pretty clear against her green fur.

 

You sigh.

 

It's startin’ to feel like the only sound you can make.

 

You just can't manage helpin’ any of ‘em out like you wanna.

 

Bobby's been more than caring every time ya got sick ‘round her, be it from food poisonin’ or nightmares or whatnot, Hoppy's always strived to include you back when the more rowdy of the bunch took the limelight, and Crafty's always been there when you wanted to stay away from all that.

 

You actually have a pretty special friendship with her, but you hadn't actually talked with ‘em in a bit.

 

You look back at your phone, sittin’ on the bed…

‘Round halfway to Mako's restaurant, you nearly jump outta yer skin.

 

Crafty'd come up behind ya and scared the livin’ daylights outta you fer yer attention.

 

Crafty: O-oh! Picky, I'm so sorry!

 

You put hoof up to defuse, just happy to see her.

 

Picky: I'm ok.

 

Crafty: I forget how quiet I am sometimes. I did the same thing to Ms. D three times this week.

 

Picky: Careful not ta give ‘er a heart attack.

 

Crafty: Yeah… Still, sorry.

 

Picky: I can take it. Hearts made a’ stronger stuff.

 

Crafty: Speaking of… how’ve you been eating?

 

Crafty: Hoppy’s told me you were losing weight fast, but it doesn't look that bad.

 

She’s a lifesaver, that rabbit, but you can't help but feel a bit self conscious.

 

It's either get fat as pigs often do, or start thinin’ way too fast and get sick from not eatin’.

 

Neither option are fun, but it's the cycle you’ve been stuck in for ages.

 

It does bring back a fond memory of Bobby helpin’ you feel less insecure about the tum.

 

Said the both of you were just “friend shaped.”

 

Crafty: Picky?

 

Shiet, pay attention, ya dumb Hog.

 

Picky: Fixin’ it now.

 

You motion in the general direction of Mako’s.

 

Crafty: Ok. Well if I don't finish my breakfast, you have it! Don't want it to go to waste.

 

Heh, low blow Craf. They know ya hate wasted food.

 

You roll your eyes at her innocent smile, walking into the diner a few minutes later.

 

Mako: Eyyy, Pickster!

 

Mako waves from a booth in the corner as you and Crafty walk over.

 

As you get closer, you see Touille next to her.

 

Mako: Didn't tell me we was havin’ a girls night!

 

Touille glares at her but she just grins, elbowing him a little.

 

Crafty skittishly waves as she sits down, and you regret not thinking ahead in trying to spend time with her.

 

Of course Mako’s personality would spook ‘er.

 

Crafty: H-hope you don't mind a fourth.

 

Mako: No prob girl, the more the merrier!

 

Touille: As long as ya bring more to the table than 50 pounds of syrup.

 

Mako: Oh, like your “refined taste” ain't much better than a little sweet tooth.

 

Touille: Ya wouldn't try the caviar at Ma’s weddin’! Who doesn't like caviar!

 

You look over at Crafty, expecting to see her shrink away at the sibling confrontation, but you surprisingly find her softly smiling.

 

Crafty: They remind me of Hoppy and Kicken in a way.

 

Picky: Both adopted siblings.

 

Picky: They see each other the same as Hops and Kick do.

 

Crafty snickers as you both turn back to the others.

 

Touille: Look, I'm just sayin’, I'm hopin’ she has a bit more of a refined taste!

 

Crafty: I-I like most food! Caviar too, though I haven't had it much.

 

Touille: Have you tried penne chicken pasta with caviar on the side?

 

Crafty: No. I don’t think i've heard of that.

 

Touille: Whaaaat!?

 

Touille: Picks, ya gotta get her on PCP girl!

 

Touille: Uh… Penne Chicken Pasta that is…

 

Picky: They ain’t a foodie like us. Don't expect ‘em to’ve had everythin’ you've had.

 

Touille: Well, I’m happy to blow their mind when I order it for ‘em!

 

Mako: Oi, let her get her own food, will ya?

 

Crafty: Oh, I-it's ok! I don't know what I want anyway, so I'm open to suggestions.

 

Mako: Eh, your funeral.

 

Then Touille's off ramblin’ again, as he does best, Crafty followin’ along as much as they can muster.

 

Turning back to Mako, she gets that look in her eye.

 

Mako: Did you hear what Simone did?

 

You sigh. Internally, thankfully.

 

Ya don’ wanna be a bad friend, but she talks about this dude every chance she gets.

 

Shaking your head, you brace yourself.

 

Mako: So apparently after he cheated on me with Rabie, he's barely seen her, which I thought was cause she didn't wanna talk ta the asshole cause he cheated on her best friend!

 

Mako is debatably not Rabies’ best friend.

 

That honor'd go to Baba, but Mako's a lot like Hoppy in that way.

 

Mako: But turns out, and here's the funny bit, she's out cheatin’ on him!

 

Mako: I swear, those two were made fr’ each other n’ all the wrong ways!

 

Damn, are you happy yer friendgroup don’t have drama like this.

 

Mako talks more about Simone, thankfully sparing you once you place your orders, by switching to more pleasent members of her group.

 

Mako: - but yeah Baba's comin’ outta her shell since last year.

 

Mako: She's scared a bit shitless about livin’ in a dorm, but she n’ Poe knew they weren't gonna make that apartment last ‘fore it got too ‘spensive.

 

Picky: How're they?

 

Mako: Poe? Shit, as well as you'd expect, given it's their first year in college and they're even more spooked to bunk up then Baba is.

 

Picky: How… how's the system on ‘em?

 

Mako: What, like which dorm are they throwin their fine, feathered ass in?

 

Mako: Boy’s dorm.

 

Mako: Goes by he/they anyway, but he said he wished he had a choice to pick whichever dorm was quietest. Oh! Thanks Ma!

 

Just then, Mako's mother came by, the other waiter probably on break.

 

The smell of the food clears your mind of whatever Mako had been saying, as you stare intently at the plates headed towards you.

 

She puts Crafty's down first, the girl havin’ caved to Touille's pleadin’ for her to try the penne chicken pasta.

 

The delicious smell of pepper and cheese sauce makes you regret just getting a burger.

 

Touille got the same, having pulled the ‘daughters best friend card’ to order him n’ Craf food from the dinner menu so early.

 

Mako got the whole breakfast platter, her Ma having preemptively doused the pancakes in so much syrup that it was dangerous to move the plate much.

 

And in comes your simple burger.

 

Lettace, tomato, onion, pickles, thousand…

 

The only thing out of the norm may be the square shape of the burger patty, something the diner does for the gimmick.

 

Crafty: Is that all you're having?

 

You just gently shrug at her worried expression, noticing her eyes glancing down at your significantly slimmer torso.

 

Mako: Yeah Picks, I thought I noticed somethin’ was different, but damn girl, you're cuttin’ pounds WAY to fast!

 

Touille: Ay, you ain't starvin yaself, are ya?

 

You shake your head. It's not your choice, and you don't want them to think you've developed some serious eating disorder or relapsed insecurities.

 

Picky: Nah just uh… been sick.

 

Crafty is still a shade of worried, but it seems like the rest took your answer without the want to pry.

 

Crafty nudges you as the rest start to dig in.

 

Crafty: I'm… I'm lactose intolerant, remember? So I'm not gonna be able to finish all this.

 

She nudges the plate towards you and you give them as warm a smile as you can muster.

 

Picky: Thanks Craf.

 

She starts to eat too.

 

.

 

—Crafty—

 

Seeing Picky start to eat thankfully sets your nerves at ease a little.

 

Digging in yourself, you find your meal to be really good actually!

 

If a little overhyped by Touille.

 

As you eat, you particularly take note of the pasta and peppered cheese sauce, which is soon your favorite part about it, but you taste a LOT of different types of cheese and have to begin grieving the loss of such an amazing meal to your taste buds.

 

It's like being told not to eat ice cream by Bubba again.

 

Mayyyybe you can ask for a smaller portion to go?

 

You already feel your stomach twisting though.

 

Ughhhh, why must your body despise you so.

 

Looking over at Picky, you find her burger completely decimated, not a crumb left on the plate.

 

She strangely just looks down at the empty plate, longingly.

 

You scoot your half finished plate towards her.

 

Crafty: You still hungry?

 

Her stomach growls and she looks away from you as you giggle.

 

Crafty: Don't worry, It's not like I can finish…

 

She doesn't smile back.

 

She's shaking.

 

Mako notices too, as she stands up and lightly shakes Pickys shoulder for her attention.

 

Mako: Ey, Picks, you ok? Ya look like you're gonna hurl.

 

Picky just stares back, as pale as a ghost, and now you really start to worry.

 

Suddenly, Picky shakes her head vigorously, pushing Mako back, unintentionally causing her to fall back into her seat before she runs off.

 

Mako: Oof- Hey! Picky!?

 

She looks to you, then to Touille.

 

Touille: What, she feel sick?

 

Crafty: I… I think so?

 

Crafty: It hasn't been that… visceral before though.

 

Crafty: I should go make sure she's ok.

 

Mako: You sure girl? She seems kinda… out of it.

 

Crafty: That's why I wanna check.

 

Mako just shrugs.

 

Mako: Well if ya need help, then come askin’ and I’ll be there.

 

You just nod your head thankfully, already on your way towards the restrooms.

 

You squeeze by a group of people, barely uttering back an apology as you open the door.

 

Looking around, you don’t see her at first before you catch her lower half crouched down against the inside of a stall.

 

Crafty: Picky?

 

You hear a grumbling whine, as if a dog was biting down on a toy and starting to play tug-o-war with it.

 

Crafty: Hey, is that you?

 

You hesitate, closing the door a bit.

 

What if she really needs a moment to herself?

 

What if you being here will just make her more stressed.

 

You hear a strangled laugh, or a cry, unmistakably Picky's but sounding so foreign from her.

 

Crafty: P-Picky? Are you ok in here?

 

Your worry getting the better of you, you rush in, and up to her stall, the door still ajar.

 

She doesn't look at you, her breath stilted and head down.

 

She slowly nods her head, grunting in affirmation.

 

You don't believe her.

 

Crouching down to her level, you spot more than a few frankly terrifying things.

 

Her mouth looks like it's bleeding, or at least there is blood around it.

 

You can't tell if its from her vomit or not because you think you can recall an uncomfortable lesson from back when Bubba didn't filter himself when giving ‘fun’ facts.

 

If she did vomit blood, it'd be black, which only makes you wonder where it came from.

 

Crafty: What's wrong Picky?

 

Picky: Augh…

 

She sways, still not meeting your eyes.

 

Crafty: Feel sick?

 

She carefully nods, giving you an even better look at the blood lightly spattering her chin.

 

Crafty: D-did you keep your food down?

 

Another nod, and strangely a hint of a grin, as if she'd proven something.

 

Did she really take your worries this much to heart?

 

If she needs to puke, then she shouldn't hurt herself trying to hold it back or something.

 

She… she doesn't need a lecture right now. Just reassure her.

 

Crafty: Good.

 

She finally brings her eyes up to yours.

 

They look scared, and a little watery.

 

Crafty: Let's… go get you some water to sip on ok?

 

As she stands, you go to help her up until you see what she did to her arm..

 

A non-insignificant bite was taken of it, and forcefully too.

 

You try not to shiver as you can see places where her skin looks uncomfortably taught and bruised around the punctures, still gently spurting blood.

 

Crafty: Picky! W-what did you-!?

 

She looks lost for a second before it turns to guilt once she sees her arm, like she'd forgotten she'd done it.

 

You waste no more time, guiding her out of the bathroom and around to the back area.

 

You need to get her help. 

 

Now.

 

.

 

—Picky—

 

As Crafty starts to eat, you take a look down at your own meal.

 

Your stomach grumbles again, but your mind is far from wherever your burger is.

 

Yer makin’ ‘er stressed.

 

They see ya starvin’ yerself, nightmare or not, n’ the worry ain't unfounded.

 

It ain't the first time you’ve worried a friend…

 

You glare at the burger, almost like it's what’s spoutin’ nonsense in your ear, ‘stead a’ your brain.

 

You don't wanna stress em out.

 

Picking up the burger, the sounds of chatting and fragrant smells of the food come back to you.

 

The chicken pasta smells good. Maybe you'll try it.

 

Your stomach growls.

 

The thousand island on the burger is Mako’s own recipe.

 

Got her second place last year in class finals, right next to you, in third.

 

You take a bite.

 

It's good.

 

The vegetables are all grown fresh. Mako’s Ma gettin’ orders straight from yer folks farm on the other side a’ the valley.

 

The thousand, as usual, is perfectly formulated, adding just enough spice without overpowering the rest of the flavor.

 

You take another bite.

 

The burger once again graces your taste buds, the patty quelling the empty space in your stomach which begs to be filled by anything.

 

You're hungry.

 

You take another bite.

 

It doesn't taste like anything for a second before the flavor explodes in your mouth, the pickles and onions perfectly complimenting the savory feel of the burger itself.

 

You're hungry.

 

It feels like you haven't had anything to eat in days.

 

No, weeks had gone by without food haven't they?

 

Day said you had to ration. That the vending machines in Playcare were all that were left.

 

Hoppy complained when she saw you stealing from Bobby's pile.

 

The bear always let you get away with it. You didn't have the energy to hide it.

 

But you're hungry…

 

It was never enough.

 

The funny thing about starvation is that any food tastes good, no matter how picky you may be.

 

Looking up, nobody is watching you, all Enraptured with their own meals.

 

The burger is completely gone.

 

Crafty scoots her plate towards you, saying something you don't quite make out.

 

Your ears ring. Your stomach growls.

 

She giggles.

 

You look away from her fast.

 

Don't look at ‘er like that.

 

Mako has a hand on your shoulder, a concerned look on her face.

 

You look up at her arm, the lean muscle moving beneath the skin as her grip tightens, almost like she wants to keep you in place.

 

She looks…

 

go go go Go GoGOGOGO!

 

You, push her arm away roughly, stumbling to you’re hooves as you run towards the door.

 

You crash out of it, finding a corner and throwing your back against the wall, ignoring the dull pain from slamming your head so hard you may as well have concussed yourself.

 

You shrink down to your knees, trying to control your breathing, humming to yourself as to not throw up.

 

You feel sick.

 

So    fucking    sick.

 

You think of Mako, and Bubba, and Kicken.

 

You think of all the times you’d had these horrible thoughts towards your friends, even when you were kids.

 

How you played it off as a joke.

 

How you thought it WAS a joke.

 

At least until you realised it wasn't.

 

Morbid curiosity mixed with the mind of a developing child is what you chalked it up to.

 

But that don't give you answers now, don’t it?

 

That don’t give you a way out. A way to fix it.

 

Your senses slowly come back to you as you feel something wet across your front.

 

When the nausea is gone enough to move, you realise you’re drooling, slobbering all over yourself.

 

Christ, you’re a fucking wreak.

 

Thank god it ain't puke, but you do throw up in your mouth a bit as you struggle with the nausea.

 

You feel drained.

 

Like you used every once of your energy to run to… the bathroom?

 

Heh, ya thought you were outside! That's how fuckin’ crazy ya are!

 

You fully expected n’ alley or somethin’, but you never even left the god damned buildin’!

 

You're stomach growls.

 

You're still so hungry, despite the sickness roilin’ in yer guts.

 

And they're all still out there, fresh n’ full.

 

The bile inside you churns.

 

Stop it. Just shut the fuck up!

 

But it complains and whines, like a child that didn't get what they wanted.

 

Fine. You fuckin’ hungry!?

 

You take a few breaths, shallow as they may be, as you brace yourself.

 

You sink your teeth into your forearm, feeling the meat rend to your bite as an agonizing flare of pain shoots through you, your body begging to stop.

 

Not yet. You let the pain ground you. Center you.

 

Let it push the hunger away.

 

You taste iron.

 

Leaning back against the inside of the stall wall, you revel in the fact that you didn't vomit.

 

The fact you kept the burger down.

 

The fact that for once in your life you actually beat this shit.

 

You let out a few strained laughs, but the nausea puts an end to that quickly.

 

Suddenly, you hear a door creak open, someone entering the bathroom.

 

You shrink as they come up to the still open stall door.

 

Crafty: P-Picky? Are you ok in here?

 

You stay quiet, hoping they'd just vanish as you desperately try’n look anywhere but her.

 

But she cares too much, o’ course, so you just make an affirmative grunt, sounding more like an unhealthy wheeze.

 

She gets down to your level, something most are usually hard pressed thanks to your height.

 

Crafty: What's wrong, Picky?

 

Picky: Mmgh…

 

Crafty: Feel sick?

 

You nod, the kind and caring tone of voice she takes piercing your heart and comforting it all the same.

 

Crafty: Did you keep your food down?

 

Another nod.

 

Crafty: That’s good.

 

You meet her soft smile, forcing your brain to behave as you do.

 

Crafty: Let's go get you some water to sip on ok?

 

You shakily stand, and she goes to help you before gasping.

 

Crafty: Picky! W-what did you-!?

 

She looks down at your arm, a horrified expression that painfully reminds you of Bubba’s from that nightmare.

 

At first you don't know why she could be so distraught until…

 

Oh, yea…

 

You look at the messy bite mark on your arm, a chunk torn from where it should be.

 

Without a word, Crafty ushers you out, but instead of making your way back to your table, you turn towards the back, entering the employee area.

 

Crafty makes sure to swerve you both away from the kitchen as she makes her way to the head manager's office.

 

She quickly knocks.

 

Mrs. Mako: Yeeeeep?

 

Craf takes that as her go-ahead to enter.

 

Crafty: S-Sorry for the intrusion, but do you have a first aid kit?

 

Mako's Ma takes one glance at your arm before rustling through a cabinet, pulling out some gauze and bandages.

 

Without a second word, she gets to work on patching you up, looking as focused as she is when making food.

 

Wipin’ off your chin, she nudges you to make sure you’re lookin’ her in the eye, hands on her hips in a way that tells ya she means business.

 

Mrs. Mako: So? Didja do that to yaself?

 

You don't know what to say.

 

You just… thought you needed it.

 

Picky: S-sick…

 

Picky: Stomach hurt…

 

She sighs, obviously disapproving, but her gaze softens before gently gripping your shoulder.

 

Mrs. Mako: Hun, If you’re hurtin’, please don't make it worse on yaself, ok?

 

You just nod, no more energy to explain yourself.

 

.

 

—Crafty—

 

As you walk back to the table, you feel bad for Picky, unsure if you should just take her back home at this point to rest.

 

Maybe ask the staff if she can have the first week off for her health.

 

You don't realize you made it back to the table already until raised voices catch your ear.

 

Mako and someone you recognize are arguing, Touille looking stressed, saying something quietly to Baba; a schoolmate of you all.

 

The dragon arguing with Mako looks to you, and a sick feeling washes over you.

 

He catches your eye, but turns to regard Picky instead, while you’re stunned trying to remember him.

 

Simone: Ey, Piggsy! You’re dorm mates with the rabbit yeah?

 

Picky doesn’t look like she likes him, and you don't think you do either.

 

Simone: Can you tell her to lay the fuck off? Bitch started throwin’ punches frame fucking one earlier and I dunno why she's so pissed at me.

 

Mako: Hell, maybe its ‘cause you’re fuckin’ insufferable, ya know that!?

 

Picky: Hoppy doesn't fight without a reason.

 

Mako: Yeah, the fuck didja do, dude!?

 

As his face twists in irritation, you feel the small pit in your stomach drop into the void.

 

You recognize him now.

 

H-how didn't you before!?

 

All of those times in middle school when he cornered you, trying to convince you to come hang out with him, coming closer and closer…

 

When you ran he took it as you being flustered, you think, but honestly he scared you.

 

Since then till the end of middle school, he’d always try to get closer to you whenever you were alone. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leaning in close to ask what you were up to.

 

When you realised he stayed away when the other Critters were around, you made sure to go anywhere Bobby or Hoppy were going, almost completely destroying your freetime for the sake of peace-of-mind.

 

At the end of middle school, you guess he just got tired of waiting, and…

 

Simone: We were just lookin’ for fucking Rabies, ok!?

 

He motions to Baba, who scoffs, not looking up from her phone.

 

Baba: Doooon't bring me into this.

 

He grumbles, turning to Mako.

 

Simone: Look Maggs. You know me! I wouldn't-

 

Suddenly, Mako pushes him, knocking him back into the table, drinks and plates clattering at the impact, making you flinch.

 

Mako: Don't fucking call me that Simone!!! You know I hate that, you dick!

 

Mako: And NO! I DON'T fucking know you!

 

Mako: The reason I stopped talking to you is because Rabies was fuckin’ braggin’ that she got on your dick!

 

Mako: Well guess where she is!? Whoring herself out across town for money!!!

 

Mako: Which I honestly wouldn't give a shit about unless she was an asshole too, which she IS!

 

You can't stand looking at him anymore.

 

You tug gently on Picky's sleeve, urging her to get back home and rest, but her gaze is locked on the two currently arguing.

 

Simone: Well- I- I-...

 

Mako: No, you don't get to give excuses anymore! Everyone here’s been fucked over by you someway besides Baba!

 

You cringe uncomfortably at the wording.

 

Baba: Mako, I said don't-

 

Touille: Yeah dude! What happened to paying me back for all the wine I snuck you back in high school!?

 

Mako: And what about Crafty, huh!?

 

Your tension rockets.

 

How does she know? How does she know!?

 

Did she see him?

 

You feel sick.

 

Picky looks back at you, surprised, but her fists are balled tight and you do NOT want a fight breaking out w-with him here…

 

Mako: How many times had you gotten away with harassin’ her until Babs told ya to cut it the fuck out!?

 

Picky: Craf?

 

She whispers to you, concerned.

 

Crafty: He just… got up in my personal space a lot. Nothing else...

 

Picky: How. Close.

 

You've never heard her more angry in her life.

 

Mako: And what about what happened with Picky, on halloween!?

 

Simone: I told ya, I didn't fuckin’-

 

Mako: Oh yeah, so a whole empty platter of your favorite cookies go mysteriously missing the hour you show up, making Picky run off cryin’!?

 

You vaguely remember finding Picky in a similar state years and years ago, quietly crying alone in the restroom, knees to her chest and shaking.

 

You just made more, everything turned out fine and you made one of your nicest memories helping a friend.

 

Mako: You never even-

 

Baba: All of you, just shut the fuck up!!!

 

You flinch at the yelling, looking around to see if anyones started to look at the argument like bystanders tend to do.

 

Baba: I have a fuckin’ headache, ok?

 

Baba: If Rabe doesn't give a shit about walking to that fucking party, then she blow all the dudes she wants.

 

Baba: Nobody is defending Simone but himself, and frankly dude, you’re a fucking pig, and that’s why nobody likes you.

 

Baba: No offence, Picky.

 

Picky: It’s just a sayin’.

 

Baba: Mako, you get petty as fuck sometimes. I'm not suprised Simone cheated, and he can barely keep someone desperate with him anyway.

 

Baba: And Touille-!

 

Touille: What'd I do!?

 

Baba: Just stop yappin’ sometimes, ok!? You don't have to “yes, and” everything anybody says!

 

Baba sighs hard, collecting herself from having to fix a situation that shouldn't have happened in the first place.

 

Baba: Now that we got all that shit sorted, let's just fuckin’ go.

 

Simone: You didn't talk about them!

 

He points at Picky, his tail flicking at you, making you tense up, not daring to make eye contact.

 

Then his eyes land back on you, that gleam coming back from all that time ago.

 

The same look he'd give you when he knew he caught you in a vulnerable position.

 

But… but you're NOT vulnerable right now.

 

You have Picky , and Mako , and even Baba with you.

 

So- So fuck him!

 

He must be desperate!

 

He can't do anything to you! He's just trying to scare you back into the way you acted in middle school.

 

So he can use you again.

 

You sneer at him, sticking your tongue out in a childish way that you know will piss him off, based on experience.

 

He HATES being treated like the insignificant jerk he is.

 

And you can't help but grin when you see the confused look on his face melt into anger.

 

Baba: The fuck did they do?

 

Simone: What!? They were eggin’ Mako on about Hops!

 

Baba: First of all, Picky is the only one of them who's even talked, and-

 

Simone: No! I saw horsey noddin’ her head, she agreed she just-!

 

Your spark of anger flares, a feeling you know well for how few times you let it happen.

 

Every time he called you that, EVERY TIME he touched you in a way you didn't like, he'd say it with that same fucking drawl.

 

Draw out the first bit to make it sound like he’s calling you a whore, then hide it with the rest.

 

Before you know it you're up in his face, your hand stinging slightly, 

 

Crafty: DON'T EVER FUCKING CALL ME THAT AGAIN!

 

You just slapped Simone Smoke, and you'd do it a billion times over if you could.

 

Save the memory in your brain so you can just keep hitting him until his head is just PULP and BRAIN MATTER on the FUCKING CONCRETE!

 

You revel in how terrified he looks at you until Baba pulls him away and towards the door.

 

Baba: Go wait in the fucking car.

 

She shoves him away and you glare until that piece of shit is out of your sight.

 

He doesn't even look back.

 

.

 

—Picky—

 

Her shout echoes across the building putting an end to anyone's response.

 

Simone looks confused and scared before Baba roughly pulls him back by his sleeve.

 

She shoves him towards the door which he's quick to get out of, Baba placin’ a hoof to her head like she's caught a migraine.

 

Baba: Sorry Mako.

 

Mako: Bitch, you did nothin’ wrong!

 

Mako: You’ve had to deal with that asshole all day!

 

Touille: Yeah, you were just- 

 

Baba snaps her hooves at him before he can yes-man her.

 

He shuts up quick.

 

Baba: It’s whatever. Poe wanted him off their hands before they’re stuck with him for the whole year, and Simone was adamant about picking up Rabie for some fucking reason.

 

Mako: Shiet, RIP Poe then, eh?

 

Baba: Ugh, I get it. Thanks for telling us where Rabe is.

 

And she's off, grumpy expression ever present as she drives away from the diner.

 

As the tension diffuses, you sit down, Mako tellin’ her mom about the commotion.

 

That fuckin’ sucked, but least its over.

Walking back towards your dorms with Crafty and Mako, you all wave to Touille as he saunters off towards the boy's dorms.

 

A part of you really needs to ask Crafty ‘bout what happened with Simone, but ya don't wanna bring it up with Mako around, especially after such a stressful argument.

 

Picky: Ey Craf?

 

She perks up, apparently lost in thought herself.

 

Crafty: O-oh, yeah Picky?

 

Picky: Ya wanna relax with me n’ Hoppy?

 

Crafty: Oh, u-um… Sorry I can't.

 

Crafty: I need to go meet my new dorm mate and help her get settled in. Maybe after though! Is that ok?

 

You thought Crafty told staff that they didn't want a dorm mate?

 

Ya just nod.

 

Picky: Ayup.

 

Crafty: Ok, I'll text you when I'm free!

 

Picky: Mhm.

 

Then you and her part ways, saying bye to Mako in the process.

 

Opening the door to your dorm, you feel exhausted.

 

Landing face down in your bed, you’re reminded it's only midday as the sun shines a pesterin’ ray right in yer goddamn eyeball.

 

Hoppy: Hey Picky..?

 

You lift your head, one of your tusks tugging your blanket along with you.

 

Hoppy looks at you from her bed like you just missed her question.

 

Hoppy: You ok?

 

Picky: Ayyyyup…

 

You can tell she don't believe ya.

 

Hoppy: Mmmmhm.

 

Hoppy: Tough morning huh?

 

You sigh. You notice her holding a jacket close. One you recognize as Bobby's.

 

She rustles through her bag for a moment before pulling out a thermos.

 

Hoppy: Want some coffee?

 

Hoppy, yer a lifesaver.

 

In between sips, you tell her about what happened, omitting your breakdown, obviously.

 

You ain't a gossiper, but she lets you in on how she's been doin’ so… why not?

 

.

 

—Crafty—

 

You go to your dorm, as Picky heads for the elevator towards Hoppy's.

 

The letter said you need to get your room organized by lunchtime, so you assume thats when your new dorm mate was told to arrive.

 

Reaching your room, you realise there are a little less color in the hallways than normal, putting your earbuds in to turn on some music as you open the door.

 

Looking back at you is the same black sheep you saw just about an hour earlier.

 

Looking around to confirm you didn't somehow enter the wrong room, your eyes catch the corner of shame, proudly presenting your unfinished and unfit-for-sight art.

 

Crafty: W-what are you d-doing in my room!

 

She grimaces, but noticeably tries to soften her expression.

 

Baba: Sorry. Came a bit early.

 

Baba: There’s a party I gotta go set up, so lunch wouldn't've worked.

 

She's you’re dorm mate!?

 

B-but she's so…

 

So-..!

 

Colorless!

 

You didn't want to think too hard about it with how stressful it was earlier, but even back in the diner it's like this girl just emanates this dull feeling of I- don't- wanna-be-here-and-I- WILL- make-it- everyone's-problem.

 

You try not to look uncomfortable as you step in, grabbing your art books and bags off her bed.

 

Crafty: S-sorry, I didn't clean up enough earlier.

 

Baba: Meh.

 

Ok, she sounded like a sheep just then. Cute.

 

This may not be that bad!

 

She sits down, throwing her bag and suitcase on the bed.

 

It doesn’t look like she brought much.

 

Baba: Sorry for intruding, but It's not like I wanna fuckin’ be here either.

 

Oh god, it is that bad.

 

Neither of you want a dorm mate, and you’re who they pair together!?

 

There had to be SOME other option right?

 

Baba: So uh… funny seein’ you again, huh?

 

Please someone put you out of your misery.

 

Apparently your dread was obvious, cause she rolls her eyes.

 

Baba: Hey, at least I'm tryin g to make this work! What's the point in just moping like that!

 

Baba: If I can give you a piece of advice, sitting around like a lump of bricks may feel like the only thing you can do, but later you’re gonna regret wasting your time doing nothing, ok?

 

She stands up, putting her hoof out.

 

Baba: You’re called Crafty Corn, right?

 

You slowly follow her example.

 

She’s right, but so much is different.

 

You’re both too different!

 

Can this even work!?

 

Crafty: Y-yeah…

 

You take her hoof in yours and she shakes it.

 

Baba: Baba Chops.

 

A gentle sort of vibe comes out of that crushing dark visage for a moment.

 

Crafty: N-nice to meet you.

 

Baba: Same.

 

...

 

Baba: So uh…

 

Baba: Art?

 

You stutter, stepping as inconspicuously as you can in front of the corner of shame.

 

Crafty: Y-y-yeah! Kind of…

 

Baba: Kinda?

 

Crafty: Well, I guess technically it can all be considered art, but of all the stuff I do, Art is the most… No, well I guess I logically write more than I draw, but drawing takes longer, so-

 

You realise you’re rambling one run-on sentence too late.

 

Baba: The stuff you have out looks good. I'd definitely consider it art.

 

The only thing not packed away in their respective folder or bag is…

 

Nervously, you try and stay composed.

 

Crafty: Well, T-thanks… those aren't really good compared to what I can do on a good day.

 

Baba: Oh, I totally feel you. Don't give me charcoal and parchment if I'm feeling moody.

 

Baba: Shit looks more like an ink blot test than an art piece.

 

A way out of talking about you! Quick!!!

 

Crafty: Oh, you make art too?

 

Baba: Yeah, kinda.

 

She pulls a notebook out of her bag and opens to a seemingly random page, turning to show you.

 

Its a sketch of a frankly terrifying looking monster; the shape of a lion, but with sharp, strangely bony looking mane, massive, bulging eyes and a vertical mouth that wraps from forehead to chin, splitting its skull in an unnaturally visceral way which makes it look like its tongue and crooked, jagged teeth are liable to fall out at any second.

 

It looks… really cool, to be honest, but you can barely imagine drawing all that detail in a sketch like that.

 

Baba: I draw monsters.

 

Crafty: Y-yeah looks like it.

 

Crafty: You're really good at that tho!

 

Baba: Meh , I try.

 

Baba: What about you? You said you draw, but you write too?

 

Crafty: Uhhhh…

 

Oh, why did you have to ask about thaaaat…

 

Crafty: Y-yeah, I… I write- um…

 

Crafty: R-romance dramas and F-fanfiction.

 

She chuckles, and you immediately regret coming clean before she speaks up again.

 

Baba: Nice. I like romance books.

 

Crafty: Really!?

 

Baba: Yeah, as long as it isn’t too mainstream or anything.

 

Baba: So many of those big authors make it just seem so… sterile. Idealistic, I mean.

 

Baba: Romance is meant to be raw. There has to be genuine emotion in it, not just “Romero and Juline” getting together , cause “he is boy and she is girl. ”

 

Baba: Not to mention how restrictive that mindset is.

 

Wow, she… she completely voiced an opinion you’ve been struggling to get across to people for years!

 

Crafty: Y-yeah exactly! That’s why I like fanfic writers so much, even if some of them can be a little crazy.

 

Crafty: It isn't perfect. It isn't ideal or sterilized like you said!

 

Baba: Mhm, same problem with horror.

 

Baba: Like, imagine a horror game company leaning so far into merch shilling, that the idea they had for a good horror experience gets completely lost in the mix and they start selling fucking NFT’s or something.

 

Baba: I'd probably fall completely off of that until they get their act together and actually treat the genre like it deserves , no matter their audience.

 

Crafty: Yeah!

 

Crafty: There are so many pieces of horror media I wish was a return to form instead of just some… shock bait money grab.

 

Baba grins, nodding her head, and you almost don't realise you’ve let known that you’re a horror fan, something even the other Critters don't know.

 

You always thought you were a freak for loving the feeling of being terrified, but once you realised the scariest things were what's in the real world, you appreciated horror so much more, and stopped pushing it away like it would infect you with something.

 

Baba: See. She gets it!

 

Baba: Anyway, I gotta head out to that party.

 

Crafty: O-oh, ok…

 

Baba: Anything you wanna let me know about staying here? I probably won't be back till you’re asleep.

 

Crafty: Uhh… can you maybe try and keep quiet usually? Especially when I’m working on something?

 

Crafty: A lot of noise makes it impossible to think, and I can't even block it out with earbuds cause I can still hear it, s-so that's all my brain will…

 

You stop yourself from rambling, but Baba nods in understanding.

 

Baba: I'm pretty much the same. Take calls in the hall, and keep music in your earbuds.

 

Crafty: You got it!

 

You give her a thumbs up, eliciting that warmer glow from that dark feeling around her, dissipating by the second.

 

Baba: Cya Crafty. Nice to meetcha.

 

She closes the door.

 

The room seems a bit less bright somehow.

 

You sit down, looking over at her bed, a little messy from her open bag, but you see pins and such on the black leather arm straps.

 

You kinda feel like you’re spying, but among a Bi flag and an Anarchy logo, are characters and logos from franchises you recognize, and some you even love.

 

It's strange to see some of the more bubbly and cutesy pins contrasting the horror ones, not to mention her black bag overall, with its various straps and chains, and a little pentagram keychain.

 

She's so different.

 

But… you think this’ll work out ok.

 

.

Notes:

I Know People Are Gonna Be Put Off By The Plot I'm Doing With Simone And Crafty, But I Hope Having Her Finally Stand Up To Him Is A Good Compromise For Ruining Simone In This Story For Some People. The Douche WILL Suffer More, I Promise. Fac Simone Will Also Be Far Different, So Hopefully That Puts Yall At Ease.

Chapter 10: CHAPTER 1: “The Calm Before: ???”

Summary:

What happens when you die? Nothing, presumably. Or at least that's what Dr. Waltz believes. But To their surprise, at the end of a horrible, torturous journey of watching everyone close to them die, they don't exactly get to rest in the nothingness like they thought.

Time to wake up and smell the flowers. But don't ask why they look like that.

Notes:

Time For The Funkening. The Weird And Wacky Universe Shit. It's Begun. >:3

—???—

 

GET UP

 

You get up.

 

A forest floor beneath you starkly contrasting the sterile floors of the labs, or even the fake grass of Playcare itself, back before the Hour of Joy.

 

Your plastic joints pop and squeak as you stand, an extraordinarily uncomfortable crick in your neck calling the events of the past hour back to your mind.

 

You'd found him. Finally…

 

The Prototype.

 

Only a shadow of what you remembered him to be; some horrid mix between animatronics and bioengineering like the rest of the Bigger Bodies Toys were meant to be.

 

But he… It, had went even further.

 

You remember how his wool and skin struggled to stay on his body, the flesh never melding itself to the metal bones properly, his antlers always slumping down as its support melts away.

 

It was a prototype, after all.

 

But when you finally saw it again after all these years, it had added to itself. Bits and pieces of its fellow toys affixed through stitching and skewering, forced to stay alive and conscious and under his bidding.

 

Toys still half alive, attached to him by wires that dig into their skulls the same way your peers would with the re-education devices.

 

Hell, you even remember when they once had it attached to you, constructing the half of your brain you lost when they decided you weren't cooperative enough.

 

Demotion doesn’t exist in Playtime Co.

 

It's a euphemism.

 

They needed a scientist capable of processing data faster than a human mind could, and who better to use than the one closest to that human threshold.

 

It still felt like an excuse to use you, a problematic employee. Sort of like how they made Theo.

 

They were gonna use him anyway.

 

So he'd stop causing problems.

 

A dark, cynical part of you wishes you’d done it sooner. Before the Prototype got his claws dug deep.

 

But here you are, killed by that very cat you thought had been murdered hours ago.

 

Crushed under his weight as he sobbed and cried, tearing your limbs off with vicious claw swipes, begging and pleading for his god to forgive him for failing to kill you back in Playcare, for lying about DogDay’s death, about failing to keep Poppy from finding Ollie’s real body.

 

As his last order, CatNap was told to make it slow.

 

And as a punishment, he was told who you were before the experiment.

 

Their guardian angel, they called you.

 

A fallen angel, a found parent, that the Prototype told CatNap he had to kill.

 

Slowly. Painfully.

 

The last thing you remember was his gangly body resting on yours, finally, finally devoid of life once that damn wire was out of his head.

 

And the Prototype leaned in, the corpse of the doll he silenced for interfering with his plans clutched tightly in his hands, her blood spilled against all better wishes of Dr. Ludwig.

 

The Prototype: Do You Feel It.

 

You shake the yellow orb that is your head, cracked and bleeding, wishing you had a mouth to spit in the monsters face with for daring to use CatNap’ voice.

 

The Prototype: Poppy… Is Dead

 

The Prototype: Playtime… Is Over.

 

The Prototype: You… Are The Last… Tormentor.

 

Angel: That… isn't… all I was to them…

 

The Prototype: A Betrayer… As Well…

 

The Prototype: A Heretic…

 

Angel: I’M ONE OF YOU!!!

 

Angel: LOOK AT ME!

 

Angel: They did this to me… too…

 

It tilts its skull, the awful mix between sheep and human bones clicking its metal together as it breathes its labored breath, the stench washing over you.

 

The Prototype: Yet… You Followed Them… Like Sheep…

 

As if mockingly, what used to be his body; the old mascot before the critters, bleated and baa’d from its fractured soundbox, sounding more like screams.

 

The Prototype: Don't Say It… You Had… No… Choice?

 

You did.

 

And you chose complacency.

 

Out of fear of losing the critters you tried so hard to protect, once children, now adults, their lifeless bioengineered bodies strewn across the factory you once worked in.

 

So you say nothing.

 

It’s right.

 

And if this path of vengeance and blood can end with your death by its hands, you’ll accept that.

 

The Prototype: I See It… Written Across… Your Blank… Face…

 

The Prototype: Guilt… Haunts… You…

 

The Prototype: But With This… My Conscience… Remains… Sterile… 

 

A claw extends from its chest, the same claw that has eluded you, No, lured you down here.

 

It gently grabs you, carefully bringing your broken torso up to its skull.

 

The Prototype: But…

 

The Prototype: You Are… Right…

 

The Prototype: You Are… One Of Us…

 

You chuckle at it using your voice like that.

 

Such a small thing in a moment like this-

 

The Prototype: I will forgive you

 

What little breath you can hold is gone.

 

Elliots voice.

 

He sounds… heartbroken.

 

A far cry from the mask he showed to the public.

 

The Prototype: Just because you make one mistake, or because you weren't what I wanted you to become, It doesn't mean you aren't worth forgiving, Poppy.

 

The Prototype: Just because you didn't become what I needed, doesn't mean I want to replace you.

 

The Prototype: Because even if you were just a prototype… doesn't mean you weren't the last true chance I had at-... at getting my daughter back.

 

He… she? holds you softly, gently, like a father protecting their hurt child.

 

Ludwigs daughter… It isn't…

 

You look at the doll clutched in her other hand.

 

The Prototype: I Will Still… Care For You…

 

Her voice and Ludwigs say in harmony.

 

He sets down the newer Poppy’s body, taking hold of your neck.

 

The Prototype: I’ll love you. Just like I do all my children.

 

You feel tears inside, something you can’t feel anywhere but your mind.

 

Your old voice, heard from a distance, as you spoke to DogDay the day he was introduced.

 

Poppy grips your neck with her claws, and what little air you have left doesn't make it to your brain.

 

There is no fear . Or bitterness .

 

Just release.

And here you are, in this forest.

 

Your plastic body sore, but connected, unbroken past that damn pain in your neck.

 

Augh, it took your Grabpack too! Whatever brought you here that is.

 

You know you died . That much is obvious.

 

Once you know what dying feels like, you never forget , and that was the second time you'd gone through it.

 

Two times too many, frankly.

 

Walking through the forest, you notice how simple it looks.

 

All the trees close to the same size are exactly the same, the smaller ones copies of each other too.

 

The grass itself is short, the same pattern copied side to side, stretching into the forest.

 

But you can see the sun's rays through the treeline, almost as bright as the real sun.

 

It makes everything look more… saturated?

 

Reaching a break in the trees, a theory you'd been crafting is confirmed.

 

Nestled in a valley, next to the forest, is a small village of eight.

 

A weird, bubbly feeling comes to your chest as music starts playing.

 

The melody is as recognizable and annoyingly catchy as when you first heard it during your induction into Playcare.

 

It was mandatory as the caretakers and experimenters of the critters, to know who they were, after all, so as a goofy, company mandated break, you and your coworkers watched the pilot of the Smiling Critters TV show.

 

And you watched much more with the Critters themselves, but that first day you were given the option to choose which critter you’d be bringing to life.

 

You chose DogDay, and the next year, Sam was in your office, taking a personality alignment test under your watch.

 

The next month he was strapped to an operating table, your phone buzzing non stop as the critters, now under your care after their own caretakers were “demoted” or “fired” , called you on the company internal line asking if you’d abandoned them too.

 

You had no choice.

 

DogDays birth, Samuel's death, with your life hung in the balance between…

 

You signed the contract to complete this project or risk termination.

 

So as you reassured the boy, sedated him, and you never let yourself think you were going to fail until it was either done or too late.

 

And as he woke up the next day and you helped him to his house in Playcare, all you could think of was how you were alive , and the toy standing in front of you; Samuel, was dead.

 

You enter his house now, it looking much more… smooth than before.

 

The plastic and soft wood meant to emulate the cartoon feels so real under your artificial touch.

 

A part of you is scared to see his face again after abandoning him to be eaten from the inside by the mini critters.

 

It wouldn't really be him, would it?

 

If you died and came here, would that mean… he could be here too?

 

Your DogDay?

 

You put your fears aside, calling out against all logic but hope to hear him again.

 

Angel: DogDay!

 

Angel: Are you home!?

 

Up in his room, it smells just like it had before, besides the slight smell of the minifridge you snuck him extra rations in.

 

His bed wasn't made, and there were dishes in the sink, still wet.

 

He has to be here somewhere.

 

Jogging back down you exit his house, determined to try each house for even one of the Critters.

 

Your logic oriented side decides to go in order of how much connection you had with them.

 

They were all yours to care for, and by god you cared, but you didn't have the strongest connection with all of them.

 

Day and Nap were your first, attached by the hip and then to you due to how scared they were of all the other scientists.

 

After them, the others, though already under your care, started trusting you more.

 

Bobby And Bubba came easy.

 

Bobby was desperate for an example of kindness in humanity, and though you had to let the heartlessness take over just to add to and fix them, you were their only example of honest kindness.

 

Bubba saw you as their only chance. For escape or safety , that is.

 

You were just the best bet, and he respected your treatment of the others past what PlayCo would usually allow under their watch.

 

Hoppy and Kicken came next, the latter taking initiative to trust you more, even if it started as a dare from Hoppy.

 

She took a bit more convincing, but with Kicken and Bobby’s help she started to trust you more.

 

Picky never trusted you, but there were moments of kinship with you after you were turned into “Everyman Angel”, usually when you helped her bake.

 

She didn't know it was you at the time, you not having voicebox privileges yet until it was deemed too difficult to understand your sign language with how fast you spoke.

 

You just think they didn’t want to bother learning.

 

You had to for CatNap when his voicebox kept malfunctioning. Why not them?

 

And then there was Crafty, who lost all trust and faith in you when you “left” , and the Angel appeared.

 

Even then, she didn't like the idea of a mannequin who could be whoever you wanted it to be through the power of “imagination” and new distillation of the poppy gas made to make you look like the most trustworthy and kind person to whoever inbibes it.

 

It's the same reason she steered clear of CatNap after one of the orphans; Marie, went missing, the others last hearing her scream at CatNap, calling him a Monster after she took his gas.

 

At least it let you live semi-normally in the real world for around ten years.

 

Ten years of guilt fuelled sickness and trying not to let people see you eat through a hatch in your fucking neck.

Nobody is here either.

 

You just finished knocking on Crafty’s doors, looking through her windows, and other general behavior you could consider stalkerish.

 

Maybe they… went to town?

 

In the distance you see a city, one never visited in the cartoon, but exists nonetheless.

 

A road connects it to the valley ending in a lot-...

 

Wait… is that a car?

 

A car moving towards the city, its only place of origin having to be the lot by the edge of the critters houses.

 

…

 

You start walking.

A few hours in, you lose the car in the horizon somewhere despite the road being completely straight, save for some bumps and hills.

 

The plains on either side of the valley are endless, the world made of nothing but a fence and flat grass beyond the road connecting the valley and the city.

 

It unhelpfully reminds you of Playcare, but with somehow even less terraforming, and actual real grass, despite how fake it looks.

 

Even driving this alone would make you feel insane.

 

Possibly hours on the road with nothing to keep you occupied but the slowly encroaching city and a few useless stop signs and road signs that make zero sense being on one long, unbroken road like this.

 

But you keep walking regardless.

 

Your legs ache, but still…

 

Pain is a bioengineering anomaly even you couldn’t get rid of, let alone Sawyer.

 

At least you know your legs aren't actually being injured.

 

No matter where the brain is, it still thinks you’re human.

 

And a human couldn’t make this walk, but a 6'5’’ mannequin with metal bones and autotemp internals to keep the genuine biology at the right temperature sure can.

 

So, you keep walking.

Hours later, the suspiciously sun-shaped sun in the sky starts to set, and an hour past that, you're in the city.

 

The lights and sounds tell you there must be people or cars or anything, but there is nothing save for the sound of the city.

 

It’s as if they were all hidden behind the next corner, yet they simply aren't there when you reach it.

 

But now comes the issue you'd been dreading ever since you lost sight of the car.

 

Where are they?

 

Ugh, you're an extremely high level scientist's brain in a body hooked directly to an artificial intelligence, so WHERE could your critters be?

 

They never had aspirations outside of Playcare but to “See the sun/stars” or go “Visit the flowers” , as if there were only as few as existed around the rest of the world just like Playcare.

 

Nothing points to them having gotten jobs, for either their Playcare or Cartoon counterparts, save for maybe Picky and Bubba.

 

There are too many blurry signed restaurants and such to expect to find Picky working a night shift, and Bubba could be anywhere technical from a math teacher to a mad scientist , knowing this creepy world you’re in.

 

They were just kids. They didn't need to think about jobs at the time…

 

Wait… they “were” just kids!

 

It's been ten years since the Hour of Joy, and however much longer since the cartoon got cancelled!

 

Most of the kids were from 9 - 12 years old when they got transferred to the experimental wing for testing, because younger kids didn't adapt to the character repersonalisation very well.

 

So they’d all be around 20 years old if time works the same way here, which based on the painful journey here seems to be the case.

 

So maybe they're in college? You know at least Bubba must be!

 

It doesn't take long to find the school, anywhere the critters seemingly haven't been, being strangely blurry and unfinished like a game rendering stuff beyond the player's view.

 

You first found a diner, following a path of coherence to a school just in walking distance of it.

 

Two dorms on either side, with the campus in the middle.

 

All the sudden, a group of… people(?); bland faced figures of critters and humans alike, walk around the corner and off the campus.

 

Angel: Oh, sorry I just…

 

They say nothing to you, all walking by with the same expression like NPC’s.

 

A car passes behind you in the street.

 

Ok, so nobody can see you.

 

Well, people are loading and vehicles are too, so…

 

You walk into campus, taking a right towards the boys dorm.

 

How are you even gonna go about this!?

 

Are you just gonna break into every dorm rooms because nobody can see you?

 

Could your critters even see you!?

 

Fuck, you’re jumping to conclusions. Just go in and find out!

 

Entering the dorm lobby, you see a tired man yawn at a desk, much more detailed than- wait…

 

Holy fuck…

 

Your heart stills at the sight of a 

man you hoped never to see again.

 

Harley fucking Sawyer.

 

Your Boss, Head Scientist and the most unethical man you've ever met before.

 

The only person higher than him was Leith Pierre, the Head of Innovation, but even Leith wasn’t as much of a satanist as Sawyer.

 

You just walk into the hall and head for the elevator, not wanting to look at him any more than you have to.

 

Sawyer: Ahem.

 

You turn, slowly.

 

No, he's staring right at you.

 

He can fucking see you…

 

Suppressing the urge to run, you stand straight and look right back to him.

 

Sawyer: I'll have you know that I'm tired , not blind , Mr…

 

Angel: U-uhm…

 

Sawyer: Well, you don't expect me to remember every damn student I'm supposed to keep track of now do you?

 

Sawyer: Name, now. So I can mark you down past curfew.

 

Angel: K-Kicken Chicken.

 

He scoffs.

 

Sawyer: If you're going to lie, don't choose the name of the most memorable yellow nuisance this school has seen in the last century.

 

That confirms it. They are here.

 

Sawyer: Stop with the games. Who are you?

 

Angel: Angel, uh… Angel Ludwig.

 

A twinge of his expression tells you it didn't work.

 

Still, thorough as ever, he goes to check his roster to confirm you are in fact an intruder, giving you just enough time to run right back out the front door.

 

You hear him yelling behind you, but just as you throw open the front doors, you appear on top of the dorm building itself, nearly throwing yourself off it in the process.

 

What the fuck!?

 

It looked kind of like you blinked, but with what fucking eyelids!?

 

And how the hell are you up here now!?

 

Below, Sawyer comes out, looking this way and that before shaking his head and mumbling something about a stupid kid not wanting to get caught.

 

Well apparently people see you as something normal still, whether that's thanks to your gas or something to do with how this world works.

 

For some reason you can imagine a camera panning up as he closes the door confused, just to slowly reveal you at the top of the building looking down at him.

 

Ha, A dead cartoon with cartoon logic, huh?

 

You can at least hope it isn't used against you. Just don't look down if you find yourself in midair.

 

Damn, you're tired.

 

Boy, would it be funny if you found a place to sleep huh?

 

Turning around semi-expectantly, you're met with… a pillow.

 

A small one sat atop a rumbling AC unit.

 

Fuck you too, god.

 

Snatching up the pillow you find a lawn chair behind the AC unit, beside which is a case of beer.

 

Ugh, you didn't like drinking before, but some frat dudes remnant of a good night includes a chair bound to be more comfy than the hard roofing or loud hardware atop it.

 

Why the hell does alcohol exist in a cartoon world anyway?

 

You throw the pillow at the top and lay back, wishing in vain for maybe a blanket or something, but the cartoon god does not bend to your will.

 

Sighing, you already feel the exhaustion of the walk overtaking you. You know how bad your brain gets without sleep, even if your body can function without it.

 

But you made it. They're here.

 

You have a second chance with the Critters, and you don't want to give this world a single chance to take them away from you.

 

Whether this world's versions of them remember you or not is yet to be seen, but that will be a tomorrow Angel problem.

 

So you look up at the stars, the constellations flashing in colors you didn't expect.

 

New universe, new stars, new constellations.

 

It's like you can see lines between them, forming pictures of what you missed.

 

All of your Critters playing in a world far from pain. Laughing with each other like tomorrow doesn't exist.

 

A childhood they never got, given here to protect them from a factory they've never even seen before.

 

You’ll be here for them this time.

 

.

Notes:

And Finally We Have Our Wrench In The Plans. The First Factory Character, And The First Hint That This Universe Is Very Very Noooooot Doing Well.
They Will Be An Important Jumping Off Point For The Other Factory Critters, Though It's Important To Note That They Really DONT Want The Toon Critters To Know About The Factory In The First Place. Get Ready For A Lot Of Facepalming And Wondering Why This Dweeb Won't Just Be Honest With Them.

Also I'm Dealing With A Sawyer Paradox, As I Wrote This Before Poppy Chapter 4, And Also Having Two Sawyers In One Chapter is A Confusing Mess That Only This Kind Of Story Could Produce. Funny To Wonder What Fac Sawyers Opinion On His Desk Working Reflection May Be Tho.

Chapter 11: INTERMISSION: “Pandora’s Toybox: Part 1”

Summary:

A recollection of the events that led Angel to where they are now, all beginning with that fateful day that they had the same thing taken from them that they had taken from so many others.

Notes:

Become Excited! The New Content Has Begun!
I've Been Throwing My Head Against The Wall So Much With Chapter 2 That I've Had To Write Other Stuff While I Scramble To Make The Whole Multi POV Thing Actually Function. Safe To Say, I Made Chapter 2 Waaaaay Too Complicated Too Fast With A Scene With All PoV's In One Place. Ive Mapped It Out Again And Again But I Keep Running Into Roadblocks, Soooooo... Heres This For Now. I Have The Nightmare Critters One Too, Though The Beginning Of That One Is A Little Like The Bubba And Picky Sections Of The Prologue. The Beginning Is Little Out Of Chronological Order For The Sake Of Understanding When The Universe Actually Gave The NC Their Backstories. Anyway, This Isnt About Them Yet. This Is About The OTHER Universe. The One Where Things Make Much More Sense, But Are Far Far Worse For Our Friends.

Enjoy! ^w^

Dr. Waltz, where are we going?

 

Just to my office. Remember the test Ms. Grayber gave you when you first came here?

 

In the game station?

 

No kid, the boring one.

 

The big piece of paper?

 

Mhm! We're gonna do another one. This one's smaller though, we'll be quick.

 

…

 

Sam?

 

I promised CatNap I'd relax with him today. Will we be back before bedtime?

 

… Yeah, we'll be back.

 

C'mon Sam. Let's hurry and get this done.

A flash of pain and a sickening jolt of adrenaline.

 

A feeling like your lungs contracting desperately, a lack of air for what's assuredly an unhealthy amount of time.

 

Relief comes to them as they desperately begin to be pumped with air, though your mouth never opened to breath.

 

In fact, the screaming you’ve been trying to do has not come at all.

 

You feel something very abnormal at any attempt of vocalization.

 

Like your voice is pressed against a wall, stopping it from leaving your throat.

 

You stop, just taking the time to breath. Or let whatever is breathing for you do so.

 

A few moments later, you try again to open your eyes.

 

You do the motion, or you feel like you try to.

 

Nothing.

 

A fear biting in the back of your mind is quick to surface when you try to theorise just what this could be.

 

It's not hard to come to the conclusion.

 

They finally got fed up and turned you into a toy, didn't they?

 

Though why then, would they give you no mouth, no eyes?

 

The others at least get those, and using them is wired in their brain as close as you could, so… why?

 

What’s different about you?

 

You saw those messages, you heard Pierre in his office, arguing with Sawyer.

 

“Waltz is impossible to work with! Anytime a breakthrough is close, it's always ethics this and morals that!”

 

“But they're a mandatory staff member Harley. They’re the only one left with enough experience to handle your Smiling Critters. Would you want them clogging up your work having to take care of them yourself?”

 

You knew they needed you, it was the only reason you took the risks that you had.

 

Had they found a way? A way to handle them without you?

 

No. No, there is none.

 

Because the only choice would be to stop caring for them, and any degradation would be noticed by the children.

 

You took- you take pride in how well your Critters are treated.

 

You've even yelled at Sawyer for it, pulling rank, even if he's technically above you.

 

He's the head of the Bigger Bodies Initiative, but you…

 

You are head caretaker of Playcare.

 

And they know it's their fault.

 

Just because they got rid of all the others, doesn't mean that title is worthless.

 

Just because Sawyer is such a fucking egomaniac, it doesn't mean that you don't own these Toys just as much as he.

 

It's both your research- hell, the whole bio team's research!

 

Not just his.

 

And if nobody is going to treat these toys like the sentient beings they are, you wi-

 

???: Yeah, turn it on, I’m going in to talk.

 

A voice, muffled by a wall or door which you hear open soon after.

 

And all the sudden, the pang of a headache shocks you as your vision goes white.

 

Slowly, it adjusts, a strange, choppy, mess of visual effects coming over you until you seemingly find the right one.

 

It's disorienting, not helped by the sharp, uncomfortable whir of the machine flitting through the filters.

 

But now that you can see, it's just made you more angry.

 

Before you stands Leith Pierre.

 

Leith: Ah, good morning! Hope you slept well, because you just got promoted!

 

Angel: The fuck did you d-..!

 

No, you still can't speak.

 

You can't even move.

 

Leith: Are uhhh… are they awake?

 

Leith: Kinda hard to tell with the whole uh…

 

He motions to his face with a confused expression.

 

The fuck did they do to your face!?

 

Having most likely heard back from the doctor monitoring your vitals, he nods.

 

Leith: Well, turn on motor functions at least. Not like they're going anywhere until they get used to their new body.

 

Suddenly, another wave of nausea hits you as energy jolts through what you can now feel is your body, that thunderous pins and needles feeling rocketing across a form you don't recognize.

 

You feel like tuna in a tin can, Play-Doh in a bin.

 

Your skinless muscles sting as they're pressed against a plastic shell, your nerves wired into it and your organs packed into sanitary bags connected by tubes.

 

They’re where they should be, but not how they should be.

 

And now you feel so much less human than you thought you were.

 

Leith: So, I’m sure you’re a little confused.

 

Leith: I mean, let's be honest, this was a long time coming. I mean, we both know you knew what you were doing.

 

Leith: But despite Harley's insistence, I didn't wanna just feed you to Boxy or risk Doey having some pointless breakdown.

 

Leith: Instead, I wanted to test a little idea I’ve been working on!

 

He casually walks closer, and if you still had dominion over your new limbs you’d love to find out exactly what they could do to him.

 

Instead, you hear a clack, as your arm fails to raise more than an inch before overcome with pain, falling right back to where it was.

 

Leith doesn't even seem to notice, or more likely doesn't care.

 

Leith: Y’know, you’re the oldest subject your lab has ever worked with. Harley hadn't known we cracked it, but we found a way to keep older subjects alive through the tests.

 

Leith: It’s why we had you working with primates that one time!

 

You thought it was to not waste exploratory research on innocent orphans, but nothing can be sane here, now can it..?

 

Leith: Aaaanyway, those results you gave us were the starting point, and I got some of your team to agree not to tell you what the plan was.

 

Leith: The others and your assistant had to go of course. No way they’d agree to help.

 

What!?

 

So they lied!?

 

About Cooper? Andrea!?

 

The last of the Critters’ caretakers, are…

 

Leith: But here we are! Another project completed successfully!

 

For a moment, he walked to the side, an eager bounce in his step before coming back with a roller.

 

A rotating whiteboard with a mirror on the back.

 

Leith: Say hello to the new toy straight from Playtime Co…

 

He grins at you with that same look he gives the investors.

 

Like a sadistic businessman showing off his new product.

 

What stares back at you from the now revealed mirror is…

 

Leith: “Mr. Pierre,” you may be asking, “Now that isn't a finished toy, is it?”

 

Leith: “It's all blank and empty!”

 

Leith: Well, let me ask you this. What is the most powerful tool a child has?

 

He puts a waiting hand up to his ear, as if you could respond.

 

You want to tell him to jump into the prison yard.

 

Leith: Imagination.

 

Leith: A child can pick up a stick and they see a laser sword. They can pick up a toy and see a warrior or a princess! Anything they desire!

 

Leith: So the question now, is what do you see?

 

You stare back at the plastic, yellow mannequin in the reflection, limply tied up against a metal rack.

 

It's faceless. You don't even know how you're seeing.

 

Hell, how are you supposed to eat like this!? Even Leith knows bioengineered toys need to sustain living organs.

 

His dramatic flair drops for a moment as he tangents.

 

Leith: This will be when we fill the room with the new Poppy gas we're testing down here in the labs.

 

Leith: I’m sure you’d heard rumors around the office, and I know we told you to tell CatNap we’re getting his smoke replaced, buuuut that plan got scrapped for yours instead.

 

Leith: So, your new gas. Our little geniuses gave us the idea actually.

 

Leith: Those horrible awful nightmares they've been having are from the hallucinations they get before they konk out on the old gas, so we thought “hey, if that's the only problem, then how about we just change the formula?”

 

Leith: So we axed the lethargetic compounds and replaced them with ones to induce complacency!

 

Leith: Now we can be sure what people are seeing aren't terrifying monsters, and we know to be more discreet with it than we were with those ratty old CatNap plushies.

 

Leith: It’ll just be an ambient mist that’ll spread silently through the air from a machine placed just under your shoulders.

 

Great. They gave you B.O…

 

As a gimmick.

 

Leith: The regular toys will just be made outta that long lasting synthetic stuff that R&D have been working on.

 

Leith: No noticeable smell, no nightmares, no complaining parents, and now your kids are playing with a toy that not only bends to their will but their very thoughts!

 

Without realising, he'd slipped back into business mode, though you think he’ll probably leave out the classified parts about the CatNap plush. 

 

Leith: And as for you, all you gotta do is stand there and look pretty for the room! We'll do a small test by asking them what they see, and we’ll send you right back down to Playcare to get back to work.

 

Leith: So no complaining when we get your voicebox in, cause you’re not being torn away from those Critters. I told Harley myself that would be a frankly stupid decision.

 

He gives an easy smile.

 

Leith: I got your back P.W, you know that.

 

But he looks like he knows you don't believe that.

 

Leith: Oh! You almost let me forget the best part!

 

…

 

I can't FUCKING SPEAK YOU PIECE OF-

 

Leith: You've been promoted, remember? You’ll now be working not only as a Head Caretaker and part of the BBI team, but now with construction, as well as guest entertainment and tours up on floor one!

 

Leith: And in exchange for your pay being docked (to zero), you’ll get free amenities, same as all the other toys!

 

Leith: A free room, free meals and free electricity!

 

Leith: All in exchange for doing as you're told from now on!

 

He leans in, eyes locked to where you assume he thinks yours are.

 

Leith: So don't cause a racket and you'll be fine.

 

Leith: Besides, we all know you have no family out there. I've never met someone who so hates to talk about their family, but loves to complain about them.

 

Leith: Safe to say, there's nobody coming for you, so don't bother holding onto any pointless hope.

 

He pats you on the head, the motion stirring up pain in your never before moved body.

 

Leith: Ah, who am I kidding. You'll be problematic the second you're out, and if not then, later.

 

Leith: They always choose the hard way, but hey, you might just be the first one to prove me wrong.

 

He saunters over to the door, leaning on it and looking back at what you've become one last time.

 

Leith: Your first day on the job will be pitching you to the investors.

 

Leith: Better to do it when you can barely move right?

 

He sighs, leaning back as if to admire a job well done.

 

Leith: Plus you'll be a good first example to your peers of the consequences of disobeying your higher ups. 

 

Leith: Now they can look forward to becoming part of the crew for good!

 

Leith: It was nice knowing you Waltz, but I think Angel is gonna do your job quite a bit better.

 

The door closes, and so does your vision.

 

The only thing left is the painful jolts in your new body, cold and sore as you acclimate.

 

Your mind as well, thoughts rushing so fast and visceral that you’d rather just sleep.

 

Maybe forever?

 

But the chemicals pumping through you keep you awake, though your mind is groggy and tired from just that conversation alone.

 

The last thing you set your mind on before you lose the power to command it all is DogDay and the other Critters.

 

A feeling of hopelessness passes over you, that you can’t will away.

 

The old chapter of your life is gone.

 

And the new one looks bleak.

 

.

Notes:

Leith Sucks. I Plan To Flesh Out Some Of The Other Scientists, And Leith Isn't The Most Important From Here On Out, But Yes, I Can Confirm That He Sucks Here Too.

Chapter 12: INTERMISSION: “Pandora’s Toybox: Part 2”

Summary:

A familiar journey for Waltz, but under a much different lens. Today is the day they know for a fact this isn't all a dream. And now that they're on the same level as the toys they've been experimenting on, they have no more excuses. Their side has been chose for them.

Notes:

The Pre Story Flashback Are Important, I Swear. Also Its A Way To Get Some Of The Fac Story Explained Without Making Whole Chapters For It. It Will Make Sense Why Eventually.

Where… where am I?

 

I- I can't see.

 

Safe. Can you try and open your eyes for me?

 

O-Oh!

 

Haha, I didn't notice they were closed!

 

You’ll have a bit of trouble getting used to your n- your body…

 

You’ll get the hang of it, I’m sure.

 

D-Doctor Waltz?

 

…

 

Y-... Yes?

 

Everything is really… loud.

 

And I c-can't move anything..

 

That's normal bud, you’ll get used to it.

 

Ok…

 

…

 

How do you know my name?

 

Huh? What do you mean?

 

You’re- You’re our…

 

S-Sorry, who are you again?

 

I know your name and I know I like you but-...

 

I’m just… an old friend Day. Just like the other Critters.

 

Oh… oh! The others! H-How is CatNap? Is he worried? Is Bobby?

 

Has Bubba kept Kicken and Hoppy out of trouble? I swear, I’ll take any responsibility for-

 

Hey, hey! It’s ok! They're all ok.

 

Just calm down. I don't want you to hurt yourself.

 

Sorry…

 

It’s ok, just get used to your body. We’ll do some exercises once you’re on your paws and then we’ll get you back to Playcare to meet… uh, see the others.

 

We just have to take a test to make sure your head’s not injured, ok?

 

Ok!

 

So first… what’s your name?

 

S- uh… D-Dog-

 

-zsstAAHHH!!!

 

Stop, STOP!

 

AAAUGGHHH!

 

He was answering correctly!!!

 

pl-please-pleaaAAHHHHHH!!!

 

No, that was a fluke! Don't press that button unless I give you DAMN good reason to, YOU HEAR ME!?

 

guh… guah… aaahnnnn…

 

Sam, are you ok? Talk to me buddy.

 

D-Doctor it- it-

 

I know, I know it hurts.

 

I’m so, so sorry.

 

They won't do that again, I promise.

 

Just… try to tell me your name. Think hard bud, and make sure you’re sure of your answer.

 

Just listen to what feels right.

 

Dog- DogDay…

 

Yeah, there you go buddy.

 

Now where do you live?

 

T-The valley? N-No, Playcare!!!

 

I-I’m sorry, it's Playcare please, I’m sorry, I-

 

No, no, it's ok!

 

Both answers are fine!

 

R-Really?

 

Yeah.

 

One last question, ok?

 

…

 

Are you ready, or do you need time?

 

S-Sorry. I feel sick.

 

Take your time.

 

Agh, a call? Now?

 

Andrea? What. I'm in the middle of someth-

 

…

 

Well tell him I'm in the god damn middle of something!

 

Harley's just a MAN. Not some powerful all seeing monster.

 

Tell him I said no, and if he causes a fuss he can bring it up with me after I finish testing Sam.

 

Who's…

 

Hm? Are you ready?

 

O-Oh uh… Yes doctor.

 

You don't need to- oh nevermind, it's fine. Lemme just finish this call.

 

Still there Andrea?

 

…

 

Yes and if he comes over himself, you know what to do.

 

…

 

Thank you.

 

Ok bud, last question. Ready?

 

Yeah..?

 

Who- Who are you owned by?

 

I…

 

I'm the property of Playtime Co. If I am lost please call the number on my tag and follow the steps until you are directed to “associated branches” and choose BBI.

 

You will then be called into an appointment and receive financial compensation for my safe return to the Playtime Co factory.

 

…

 

I-Is that correct?

 

Yeah bud. You’re good to go.

 

Y-You’re crying, what-

 

Im ok kid. I promise.

 

I've just had… well, I've had a very long day.

 

Ok…

 

…

 

Doctor?

 

Mhm?

 

Can I go see my friends now please?

 

Yeah… let's get you on your feet.

You bump your knee on the way out, and it hurts.

 

But not in the way that it should.

 

Normally your knee should be in pain, but no.

 

It’s your humanity. Your pride.

 

The tendons moving your legs as you finally hobble your way out of the testing room and down the halls towards the Playcare elevator.

 

You come up on two very uncomfortable looking guards at the end of the hall.

 

God decides to spit on you, and your ankle rolls on a particularly wobbly step.

 

You fall against the wall and almost slide off it to the floor.

 

You catch yourself, hoping the sudden movement didn't yank an organ out of place.

 

The only doctor you trust to have designed your new body right would be yourself, but you didn't have the luxury of even meeting the doctors who had to do what you did so expertly before.

 

In fact, the only people you've seen since Pierre have been the disembodied voice of your “physical therapist,” and a group of investors you tried your damndest to scream for help at.

 

The looks in their eyes when they filled the room with the new gas was…

 

It was like seeing the effects of someone on hard drugs for the first time.

 

Suddenly overcome with something they can't exactly understand. An emotion foreign to them as you watch the humanity drain away from behind their eyes.

 

You don't know how long the effect is supposed to last, but after they tweaked it, it shouldn't be-

 

A tap on your plastic frame.

 

Oh yeah, you're still pitifully leaning against the wall.

 

Tobias: 1195?

 

You nod. Your new name.

 

Sure, the other toys, and kids will know you as “Everyman Angel,” but to PlayCo. All you are is numbers and possible profits.

 

Tobias: You uh… ok down there?

 

You slump off the wall, brushing past him.

 

You see him flinch, and the other guard looks spooked, but with a dulled look in his eyes that shows he's worked down here a lot longer.

 

Tobias: Can it not speak?

 

Edgar: They ain’t got voicebox privileges yet.

 

Tobias: What?

 

Edgar: Let's just hurry up. We shoulda been on our breaks fifteen fuckin minutes ago.

 

You all walk through the door they were guarding after he inputs a quick code.

 

1-9-3-0. Didn’t even bother to change the locks huh?

 

It’s a silent walk above the prison yard. Mostly silent.

 

Some toys can be heard crying in their cells, but when it comes to a commute back and forth from the labs, something all scientists must do, especially ones like you who work in playcare, it’s heaven.

 

But not for the toys, of course.

 

Which, ha , you almost forgot you are on of now.

 

You grip the railing tight as the trapped toys look up from the windows of their cells.

 

You don’t look back.

 

Edgar: Toby.

 

Tobias: Yeah?

 

Edgar: How long you been workin’ the PY?

 

Tobias: The... huh?

 

Edgar: Prison yard. How long they have you down here?

 

Tobias: Oh, u-uh.. Third day…

 

Edgar: Good. Two more and you’re out for the month.

 

Tobias: Really?

 

Edgar: Yeah. Company mandated. Guards get rotated weekly.

 

Tobias: Oh. For… mental health reasons I’d assume…

 

The older man scoffs.

 

Edgar: Yeah, that’s what they say.

 

Tobias: Is it not true? I’ve seen… I’ve seen some pretty messed up stuff.

 

Edgar: And if you can help it, don’t bother relivin’ it your head.

 

Edgar: You don’t gotta tell me. I’ve seen enough of this place that a three weeks break of it ain’t close to enough.

 

Tobias: Oh… You made it sound like-

 

Edgar: Like it wasn’t hell down here? Like your mental wellbeing isn’t in enough danger workin here that they gotta give you a mandatory break?

 

Edgar: Course It is.

 

Edgar: But that ain’t the real reason.

 

Edgar: Why do you think the rotation changes which block your in each month?

 

Tobias: I dunno?

 

Edgar: Them.

 

He halfheartedly motions down into the prison.

 

Edgar: You get close. You want to help.

 

Tobias: Help? T-These things are Monsters Ed, I’ve seen one-!

 

Edgar: Three days. You ain’t seen shit.

 

They’re quiet for a moment, stopping on the catwalk.

 

You barely realise you’ve sat down, your legs ache so much from the tests.

 

Edgar eyes you up, but you can’t exactly do the same back.

 

Edgar: You said “It” earlier.

 

Edgar: I assume you never got to know this one?

 

Tobias shakes his head.

 

Edgar gives him a sort of look, before he kneels down to eye level with you.

 

Edgar: Dr. Waltz, do you wanna kill anybody?

 

You shake your head.

 

Edgar: Do you wanna hurt us?

 

Again.

 

Edgar: What do you want?

 

To scream.

 

To end.

 

To see your Critters.

 

…

 

You can’t respond.

 

Edgar: You want out?

 

You can’t bring yourself to even try.

 

He stands up, leaning against the railing so far he almost looks like he’s gonna fall.

 

Edgar: What about you all! You want out? Out of this hell!?

 

The faint crying gets louder.

 

Each block has over 50 toys in it.

 

50 living creatures made from the minds and flesh of children stolen from lives they can never get back.

 

Not one of them beg for freedom.

 

They only cry, knowing that doing so will only cause them more pain.

 

Toby looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

 

Edgar walks up, taking the other guard by the collar of his shirt.

 

Edgar: They’re alive. They’re prisoners. None of them deserve this.

 

Edgar: Do not forget that the next time you see one fight for their life like a rabid animal.

 

Edgar: You’d do the same.

 

Tobias nods quickly, and Edgar lets go.

 

Edgar: We get three weeks off of prison duty, because if we try to help them, we become their next meal, and they get hurt more.

 

Edgar: So don’t make this harder than it has to be.

 

The denial will just eat you alive.

 

You’ve heard it before, your first day in the labs.

 

You’d been promoted, and just like today, two guards were to escort you through the prison.

 

A fresh faced Edgar and a man you can't even remember the name of.

 

Same walk, same lesson. And a reminder every day you come in to work.

 

By the time you make it to the entrance Tobias is crying.

 

Edgar looks at you with a guarded measure of pity as you start to walk towards the elevator.

 

Edgar: P.W.

 

You turn.

 

Edgar: None of the Critters were sent to the yard while you were gone.

 

Edgar: They’ve been safe. S’far as I’ve heard. Just scared wonderin’ where you’d gone.

 

Edgar: Thought you’d wanna know.

 

Emotion creeps into the dull edges of your mind where you’d forced it out before.

 

A torrent of visceral feeling held back by a mental dam you’ve learned to build after years of working here.

 

You nod back, and he leaves.

 

With a bit more intent in your gait you make your way towards the elevator.

You feel a click below each of your arms as you step off the elevator.

 

As you enter the next room the Chemists rushing about stop to regard their work.

 

You stand still as one looks you over, checking off things on a notepad.

 

The rest whisper amongst themselves behind him, not quietly enough.

 

“Well, what do you see?”

 

“In the last tests I saw my mom. It was kinda funny to see her on that little mannequin, but looking at her now, it’s… weird. What about you.”

 

“Mr. Cactus.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“My old imaginary friend Mr. Cactus.”

 

“Is she- uh, it, supposed to look so... uncomfortable?”

 

“It’s cause it’s Waltz. We know Waltz. The kids won’t see that.”

 

“... Creepy.”

 

You’re ushered away before you’re forced to listen to more of that.

 

It makes you angry. They know who you are past the smoke and under the plastic shell.

 

So much so that their subconscious can tell how you feel.

 

It would make you sick to your stomach, if it worked that way anymore.

 

You ignore the scientists trying to direct you as you walk out of the production wing and into Playcare.

 

You watch as the tram lifts a group of scientists and other employees up and out of the dome and away towards the station.

 

You can see by the gradually dimming lights and the lowered wall curtains that it must be somewhere close to night.

 

PlayCo is just as you left it. The orphans filtering into HSH for curfew, the last of the caretakers and Stella waving them goodbye as they go.

 

What strikes you is that the Critters aren’t there.

 

They’re not waving the kids goodbye. Bubba isn’t talking to Delight, Hoppy and Kick aren’t squabbling. Day isn’t keeping an eye on CatNap so he doesn’t go sneaking away to some hidden corner to have a nap before their nightly checkup.

 

In fact, who’s doing their fucking checkups if not you?

 

I swear to god if Stella or Pierre or even worse, Harley, dared to touch your Critters while you were gone…

 

Stella: Ah, Angel, was it?

 

You were staring angrily at the hole in the dome that lift disappeared out of. You didn’t even notice her walk up.

 

Stella: I’m-

 

You sign to her, the first actual act of vocalizing your thoughts that you’ve done since becoming a voiceless toy.

 

Angel: ‘Quiet.’

 

She sighs, shaking her head before speaking quietly and in a bit of a disgruntled tone.

 

Stella: Work with me Waltz. Neither of us want this so lets just get it over with.

 

Stella: Besides. Once we get to the Critters, I’m sure you’ll feel much more… comfortable.

 

She gives a knowing look that gives you an uncomfortable, but interesting realization.

 

She know you tampered with the Critters houses.

 

The cameras inside each have been set to play the same things every night.

 

A whole week everyone was on their best behavior and went to bed quietly and peacefully every night.

 

After you bribed and blackmailed your way through a few hoops, those perfect nights happen every week.

 

How Stella found out you have no idea, but thankfully it seems she told nobody else.

 

After a halfhearted tour hidden behind her normal sickeningly happy mask, you make it to the corner of Playcare housing the… well… housing.

 

Stella: So, for now you’ll be staying in the townhouse with our bright and cheerful leader: DogDay, until the necessary amenities are added to his house.

 

Stella: If the children ask, no, you aren’t a new Smiling Critter, but a unique toy made just for them!

 

Stella: We have no way of knowing what they’ll see when they look at you-

 

Angel: ‘What do you see?’

 

She stops for a moment, looking at you with a withering expression before seemingly ignoring you and continuing.

 

Stella: - so make sure to never state what you actually look like to any of them. Just agree, and stick to the script.

 

Yeah, the script.

 

‘I’m an Angel, the Guardian Angel of your imagination. Whoever I am is unique to your beautiful and creative mind.’

 

Ugh. I really don’t trust Chem after what happened with CatNap.

 

Stella: Lets see… I assume they told you of your itinerary?

 

More like burned the knowledge into my brain.

 

Instead of rewriting your mind like the other toys, you get a load of bioengineering research you already know most of, and a load of other knowledge pertaining to your new stations, like regular engineering, construction, the first floor touring guide, etc.

 

All that and one other thing that was worrying you for the whole day.

 

A “Remote Software Update.”

 

Whatever the fuck that means.

 

Stella: You’re set for the Bio team and construction a week from now, to give you time to get used to your new life here in PlayCare.

 

Stella: Your team has urged me to tell you to sleep before your update, just incase it comes with some unexpected side effects.

 

Stella: Aaaaand I think that’s all!

 

Stella: You can go ahead and meet the Critters now. They’ve been informed of a new friends arrival today and have been very very excited to meet you.

 

Stella: DogDay could hardly contain himself. It was nice to see him so happy after how sad he was when his caretaker left.

 

Stella: I’ll leave you to that now.

 

She starts to walk away, leaving you feeling sick with conflicting feelings and mixed messages.

 

Stella: And Angel?

 

You look up to find she's turned back around.

 

Her eyes meet where yours should be, and unlike the others, who looked further up or down, into the eyes of what they think they see, Stella looks right into you.

 

Stella: ‘I see you.’

 

Stella: Have a good night now.

 

You don’t have time to sign back before she leaves.

 

For a moment, you just stand there, gaze drifting up towards the tramway.

 

Stuck.

 

Stuck in a job, stuck at a factory, stuck underground, stuck in a dome, stuck in a body that isn’t yours.

 

But still you. They haven't taken you.

 

You haven't forgotten you, and neither have the other workers.

 

Where the other toys are stuck in their own minds as a result of that horrid mental tuning, forced to live in the shell of a cartoon character, not just physically, but mentally as well, you’re still you.

 

Tomorrow is the first day of however long it will take to unravel yourself from this place, and not just you.

 

Everyone.

 

The time for dull mourning is over. You did so for long enough when you were human.

 

It’s time to act. To set things into motion.

 

However long it takes, you won’t accept being stuck.

 

.

Notes:

I Will Explain The Whole Mental Fuckery The Scientists Do Later, But For Now, Just Know That To Keep The Toys In Line, They Effectively Take Large Chunks Of The Kids Memory Away And Replace It With Fake Stuff. For The Critters It's As Simple As Shoving Knowledge About The Cartoon In There, But For Others It's More Like The Sparknotes From Their Blueprints And Stuff From Character Designers Outlining Their Basic Personality And Stuff.
The Critters Are Actually Pretty Cheap In That reguard, Since They Have So Much Data To Work With, But The Reducation Devices Arent Exact Or Entirely Safe For The Brain, So When It Comes To Waltz They Couldnt Do Anything At The Risk Of Ruining Their Mind. If They Are To Work So Many Stations, They Can Really Only Add Stuff, As Well As That Mysterious Update That Had Been Mentioned. They Have Little Space To Work With In A Whole Human Mind, So It Seems Like They'll Have To Make More.

Chapter 13: INTERMISSION: “Pandora’s Toybox: Part 3”

Summary:

Angel finally has the chance to talk to their critters again, but not as themselves. It's rough, but they do learn something about the critters that they'd kept a secret from even their own caretakers. Now that Angel knows, it's clear there's no more time to wait.

They have to figure out how to escape.

Notes:

It's Like A Time Travel Movie Where The Kid Goes Back And Meets Their Parents Before They Were Adults, But Backwards. Now The Adult Is Meeting The Kids And The Kids Think That They're Just Another Kid.

Though At This Stage I Think The Critters Are Like... 13 I Think? Unless I Have The Math Backwards. Four Years In PlayCo Before The Hour Of Joy And Six Years After Until The Game Actually Starts. I Know That's Not The Actual Time Span In The Series, But I Changed It For The Sake Of Time Working The Same Way In Each Universe. By The Time The Main Game Ends, The Critters Are The Same Age As They Are In The Toon Universe. 19 In Collage, Same Amount Of Mental Development, Same Personalities, Insecurities And Mental Issues, But Wholly Different Environments.

The shift in tone was… a lot.

 

You’d opened the door of the old townhouse to be met with confetti.

 

And yelling.

 

SURPRISE!!!

 

And eight colorful toys that give you a wave of relief you’ve been waiting for 

for weeks.

 

All you can do is stare.

 

Apparently a little too long as well.

 

Kicken: Are uh… they ok?

 

Hoppy: I think so? They didn’t yelp or anything.

 

Crafty: M-Maybe they’re in shock?

 

Bubba: Hmph. I knew this was a bad idea. We just scared them, don’t make it worse.

 

Bobby: Oh no! Calm down, it’s ok! We’re your new friends!

 

Picky: …

 

They both crowd you, and try not to the entire time, besides a certain purple cat staring at you from behind the group.

 

His expression is one you recognize from when the other critters were first introduced.

 

Each of them received the cold shoulder, piercing glares or unhappy mewls.

 

You and Day always helped him warm up to his new friends, but as you are now, it’s right back to square one.

 

Wait... where’s-

 

DogDay: A-Angel?

 

A voice to your right clues you in to that exact question.

 

DogDay stands close, worry in his eyes.

 

The way he spoke your name sends a painful reminder coursing through you.

 

The Critters had to call you Dr. Waltz outside, but of all of them, only DogDay called you by your first name when you were alone.

 

DogDay: I… I’m sorry.

 

He takes a step back and towards The Critters.

 

He looks hurt. Like he just hurt himself simply by thinking.

 

DogDay: We’re the Smiling Critters. What’s your name?

 

Oh…

 

Of course.

 

They were given a general description. Probably told you’d look different to each of them.

 

Not a name.

 

Just how many of them see you?

 

How many of them are you hurting just by being seen.

 

Angel: ‘I’m Everyman Angel. Nice to-’

 

Angel ‘To meet you…’

 

You see CatNap’s expression shift as you sign.

 

DogDay: ‘Oh, you sign?’

 

DogDay: ‘CatNap is also-’

 

DogDay: Um, ‘he does not have a working voicebox as well.’

 

DogDay: ‘You can still hear, yes?’

 

Angel: ‘Yes.’

 

Angel: ‘I should be getting voicebox privileges eventually.’

 

Angel: ‘It’s required for some of my tasks.’

 

DogDay: Well that’s good! I’m looking forward to hearing your voice!

 

DogDay: O-Oh yeah. Introductions.

 

Day makes a show out of clearing his throat, though it’s unneeded to speak clearly through the speaker in his chest.

 

Still, he, like all toys, move their mouths for the sake of the kids.

 

Now It’s just habit.

 

DogDay: I’m DogDay! These are my friends, Kicken, CatNap, Bobby, Crafty, Hoppy, Bubba and Picky.

 

Kicken/Hoppy: Sup- JINX!

 

Bobby: Nice to meet you Angel.

 

Bubba: Yes. A pleasure to meet a fresh f-... er, a-a fellow toy.

 

Crafty: I’m happy to have something new to draw. I-If that’s ok with you.

 

Picky: Heya…

 

CatNap: …

 

As Day turns around, CatNap slinks away upstairs.

 

Only you and DogDay seem to notice, but strangely, he doesn’t go after him.

 

DogDay: As you can probably tell, we kinda had a little party set up for you. We even got Ms. Greyber to get us confetti poppers!

 

DogDay: But… we understand if you’re too tired from the labs to celebrate.

 

DogDay: We can do it tomorrow if you want.

 

Angel: ‘Please, it’s ok.’

 

Angel: ‘I want to get to know you all.’

 

Angel: ‘So let’s just try and have fun.’

 

DogDay: Great to hear! C’mon, we got food too!

The food turned out to be from lunch earlier.

 

The Critters planned to hide it away until tonight as Picky’s idea of a “Buffet.”

 

You’d always talked to her about the buffet places outside. About what food they had, and how it was run.

 

She’d ask what your favorite was, how it tasted, if the cafeteria had something similar.

 

Now she just sat at the end of the table staring at you.

 

Every once in a while you’d move your head from critter to critter as you spoke, and she'd look back down at her plate thinking she's hiding her gaze from you.

 

It was halfway through a conversation with Hoppy about how strong your legs were, that she finally spoke up,

 

Picky: Why do ya look like ‘em?

 

Everyone went silent.

 

They all know what she meant, but DogDay, desperate to make you feel welcome, tried his best to hold it all together.

 

DogDay: P-Picky, I don’t think they know-

 

Kicken: Yeah, no, this is really weird. Like I-I was trying to ignore it but I just-

 

Bubba: Kicken, stop. They don’t even know who we’re referring to.

 

Bobby: Can we not bring this up guys..?

 

Hoppy: Yeah, it’s kind of a bummer.

 

Crafty: I miss drawing them…

 

DogDay: H-Hey, c’mon, please-

 

Picky suddenly stands up, her chair squeaking across the wood flooring of the dining room.

 

Picky: Where’s Dr. Waltz. Why do ya look like that.

 

Hoppy: Picky…

 

She had a desperate determination in her eyes.

 

The realization that they all see you above everyone else is a horribly bittersweet one.

 

But you suppose it makes sense.

 

It hurts. They hurt. But you’re happy you could be their guardian angel while you could.

 

Angel: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t decide what I look like…’

 

DogDay: We know that, I’m sorry, they just-

 

Picky: Are they dead?

 

Bobby gasps light and Crafty starts to tear up.

 

Kicken and Hoppy look very uncomfortable, and Bubba looks halfway to stopping the conversation all together.

 

They all wait for the answer.

 

Angel: ‘I… don’t know.’

 

Angel: ‘Dr. Waltz made me. Like DogDay.’

 

Angel: ‘They didn’t want to go.’

 

Angel: ‘They didn’t have a choice.’

 

Bubba: Hm.

 

Bubba: Do you know what we were?

 

This catches your attention, putting you on edge.

 

A few of the others look uncomfortable as well.

 

They aren’t supposed to ever find out. It’s protocol that It can’t be talked about, and it’s impossible for them to find out on their own because of the brainwashing.

 

But what else could that mean?

 

DogDay: Bubba, It’s too early, they were just made.

 

Bubba: I don’t think so. Either that or they still have their memories.

 

Kicken: We aren’t seriously talking about this right now, are we!?

 

Angel: ‘Wait what? Did you get yours back?’

 

His expression shifts as you sign, and you realise you said too much.

 

That was really stupid, god damn it!

 

Bubba: No.

 

That’s… ok?

 

You don’t know if you’re relieved or devastated.

 

A disgustingly stubborn spark of hope stabs at your insides without checking with the brain to decide the danger.

 

What you were told when you were promoted comes back to you.

 

If they find out then they will get violent. If they find out it will put the kids in more danger.

 

But… if they find out then that means they all could find out.

 

Every toy regaining their memories of what they used to be.

 

The pain that brings is as visceral as the feeling of liberation.

 

And the spark of anger and rebellion that liberation feeds.

 

There’s no more toeing the line of what side you’re on anymore.

 

There’s no trying to act like there are no sides.

 

You are a toy now.

 

Angel: ‘I remember. Who I was.’

 

Kicken: No!

 

Suddenly, Kicken slams the table with his wing, making everyone jump.

 

Kicken: We are not having this stupid conversation again!

 

Kicken: Forget Bubba’s theories or whatever the hell CatNaps “friend” tells him, we AREN’T HUMANS!

 

Kicken: We didn’t lose anything!

 

Kicken: We were made here, and yeah, we all remember the prison, but that’s it!

 

Kicken: We aren’t some experimented on people, or mutated animals or ANYTHING!

 

Kicken: We’re toys! And the toys that don’t listen go to the prison blocks, and I’m not letting any of my friends get taken away cause they’d rather be stupid d-dumbasses-!

 

Bobby: K.C!

 

Kicken: What!? I’m right! And none of you are taking this seriously!

 

Kicken: You’ve all been talking about it ever since Dr. Waltz left!

 

Kicken: Even DogDay!

 

Day guiltily looks down as everyone's gaze turns to him.

 

Bubba: That’s enough! We’re not going to do anything rash, even if it is true!

 

Bubba: The pursuit of knowledge is more important than the fear of what it could mean if it’s true.

 

Kicken: No, I can’t lose you to this stupid conspiracy, Bubba, just drop it!

 

Bubba: No! Besides, you’re fighting a losing battle for ignorance. You heard what they said!

 

Kicken: So what!? They could be wrong! They could be thinking the fake cartoon memories are their past! We all thought that before the caretakers told us about the show!

 

Bubba: Kick, they aren’t part of the cartoon.

 

Kicken: Well… just SHUT UP!

 

Kicken: I’m NOT gonna let any of you convince me to help ruin our lives any more than they ALREADY ARE!!!

 

He shoves the table, tears in his eyes, as he stomps away up the stairs.

 

Bubba sighs.

 

He looks like he wants to go help, but is sure he’s the last person Kicken wants to see.

 

Stuck knowing more than you should, you wish you could tell him to go help.

 

Thankfully, someone can be there for The Critters when you can’t.

 

DogDay: Go ahead Bubba. I’ll… I’ll deal with this here.

 

The elephant nods, breathing in and out slowly to compose himself before following up after him.

 

There's a brief moment of tension as he leaves where nobody else knows what to say.

 

Picky: So. S’at true then?

 

Picky: We’re… uh, used to be people?

 

Angel: ‘Yeah. We used to be people.’

 

Hoppy: … Jeez.

 

Crafty: J-Jeez?

 

Hoppy: Like… yeah, what else is there to say?

 

Hoppy: I mean it sucks obviously, we all saw Kicken’s reaction, but really, what can we even do about it?

 

Hoppy: We can’t get our memories back, we can’t leave.

 

Hoppy: It’s not like there’s some other place for us out there, Dr. Waltz said so themselves.

 

Bobby: They said they’d take us home with them if they could…

 

She sighs trying to comfort Bobby, who still looks shaken up after Kicken’s outburst.

 

Hoppy: I know Bobs, but what’s the chances of that happening? They got fired, or… or worse. They didn’t wanna go, but we all know how strict PlayCo is.

 

Crafty: Maybe they’ll come break us out.

 

DogDay: C-Crafty! We really shouldn’t talk like that!

 

Angel: ‘It’s true.’

 

Everyone's eyes go to you.

 

Angel: ‘It’s true.’

 

Angel: ‘They told me they’re going to get you out… us out.’

 

DogDay: Really?

 

At first you just wanted to see hope in them again. Use this new, strange freedom of being something else as a vessel to stop their pain.

 

Maybe it's hubris, but things never get better in PlayCo.

 

It always either gets worse, or stays just as bad as it has been, so if you have a chance, any chance at all, you’re gonna help fix this.

 

Angel: ‘I think that's why I'm here.’

 

Angel: ‘To get you out.’

 

Angel: ‘Outside. Out of Playcare.’

 

Crafty: S-So we can go live with Dr. Waltz?

 

Angel: …

 

Angel: ‘Yes’

 

The expressions on each of their fabric muzzles were unique, but equally filled with a desperate hope hiding just beneath the surface, usually hidden from the employees for the toy’s own safety.

 

A deep dark part of your brain wants to quench that hope for their safety, to make sure none of them get any ideas and get themselves hurt.

 

A part of you wants to silence your own hope in the process.

 

You don't.

 

DogDay: Do you know where they live?

 

Angel: ‘I think so.’

 

DogDay: What else did Dr. Waltz tell you?

 

Angel: ‘A lot. What do you want to know?’

 

DogDay: Do you know about…

 

He nervously shifts, and you can probably guess where he's going with this.

 

DogDay: ‘The cameras?’

 

You nod.

 

It doesn't really matter whether or not he signed, the cameras would have seen regardless if it wasn't already night, but as far as you know, security doesn't really check in on the Critters that much anyway.

 

Angel: ‘Yes, they're looping now, aren’t they?’

 

DogDay: Yeah, I think so, maybe.

 

DogDay: We should be free to… speak our minds.

 

Hoppy: Ugh , this is exactly why I agree with Bubba here.

 

Hoppy: We can't even be honest while we're being watched! Isn't that exactly the opposite of what the kids are taught?

 

Hoppy: It’s always best to be honest, unless it inconveniences the people that made us!?

 

Bobby: B-But that's how it’s always been, and things have been ok, right?

 

DogDay: As Smiling Critters we have to make sure everyone is ok and nothing bad happens, even if that means lying.

 

Crafty: Even the adults lie sometimes. It's safer.

 

Hoppy: So what If it’s safer, it isn't fair! Not to us!

 

Picky: Ayup.

 

DogDay: I know it feels restrictive, but remember what Angel- er, Dr. Waltz said?

 

DogDay: Toy's like us don't exist anywhere but here in Playtime Co.

 

DogDay: If we weren't here we’d be in danger!

 

Hoppy: From what!?

 

DogDay: …

 

Hoppy: Don't tell me you didn't even ask.

 

Bobby: If Dr. Waltz said so, it doesn’t matter the reason.

 

Bobby: They care about us, just like the other caretakers. Everything they said was for our safety.

 

Hoppy: Well I don't feel safe here anymore, do you!?

 

Hoppy: Seeing other toys brought down here and never coming back from the prison yard, hearing the screams coming from the other rooms while we get our checkups.

 

Hoppy: And some of the other toys I’ve seen dragged down there, they’re…

 

Picky: Blood. Covered in blood.

 

Bobby: Please… I don't w- we can’t…

 

Hoppy: We need to esc-

 

DogDay: Stop!

 

Everyone at the table looks his way.

 

DogDay hardly ever raises his voice that way.

 

DogDay: Sorry, just… please lets not have another argument.

 

DogDay: We shouldn’t just jump to a conclusion that will get us hurt.

 

DogDay: Besides, we have no way to even… do that right now.

 

DogDay: We've heard the warnings about attempting to leave, and we’ve seen what happens to toys who try.

 

DogDay: It's the prison yard and then they're never seen again.

 

Hoppy: You can't seriously be saying we just stay here until it gets worse. Because It always does!

 

Hoppy: We have more restrictions and rules on us than we ever had when we first got out of the labs, and any slip up has worse and worse punishment.

 

Hoppy: We can't live like this.

 

DogDay: I know, I know! I'm not saying we stay here forever.

 

Crafty: Y-You aren’t?

 

Bobby: D-DogDay, you can't-...

 

DogDay: Look. I know not all of us may agree, but my job, what Angel trusted me with, is to keep you all safe when they aren’t here to do so.

 

DogDay: I’m the leader after all.

 

Bobby: This isn't like the cartoon Day, this is real life!

 

DogDay: Exactly! And real lives are at stake. The lives of my best friends, the most important people to me.

 

DogDay: And we can't afford to beat around the bush anymore!

 

DogDay: They could… they could replace us anytime they want, ok?

 

DogDay: I've been so scared, for so long that they’d take CatNap away because he’s caused so many problems, even if it's never been his fault.

 

DogDay: We’re tools to them. But to each other, we’re best friends. We need to stick together and make sure we all get out of here safe and sound.

 

DogDay: Because… because if we stay here we’ll never get to know what it really means to smile.

 

DogDay: Not for cameras, or for kids, but for each other. And ourselves.

 

It’s silent as Day finishes his speech.

 

You can feel around the room how hard that last line hit. It's something you've told them all before, back when you were all watching the cartoon together.

 

And the Smiling Critters didn't know what a smile was. What it felt like. A genuine smile not oppressed by memories of screaming behind bars or painful and intrusive surgeries.

 

Breaking the silence, you tap the table for their attention

 

Angel: ‘He’s right.’

 

Angel: ‘You’re more important to each other than staying here.’

 

Angel: ‘Lets escape.’

 

You put your hand out across the table.

 

Hoppy: Yeah. We just don't have any other choice.

 

Hoppy adds hers as well.

 

Bobby: I-I’m not sure, I…

 

Picky: Ahm In.

 

Then Picky.

 

Bobby: But- but Picky..!

 

Crafty: I, um, me too!

 

Crafty timidly adds a hoof, but it stays there, resolute.

 

Then DogDay adds his.

 

DogDay: Bobby, we won’t leave you behind, but please… we need your help too.

 

One glance at the conflicted bear and you can tell she's about to cry.

 

Slowly, she brings her paw in.

 

Bobby: I know, I know, but I’m just… just so scared I-

 

Crying now, Hoppy brings her paw back to hug her, which the bear desperately returns like she was about to lose the rabbit forever.

 

Picky pats her on the back and DogDay walks around the table to join the hug.

 

Crafty’s hoof gently takes Bobby’s and squeezes.

 

Bobby: Please, I don't want any of us to get hurt. I-I couldn't take it, I couldn't-

 

Hoppy: We won't. We won't let anything happen to one another, ok Bobby?

 

DogDay: Yeah, we're a team. We're the Smiling Critters. We always take care of one another.

 

Crafty: This is what the doctor would have wanted, right?

 

Picky looks to you with that same expression.

 

It's not kind or comforting, but it's not hate.

 

Just uncertainty.

 

Picky: Ayup. Gettin’ out together…

 

DogDay: Together.

After the conversation it was obvious that everyone was exhausted.

 

Hoppy convinced Bobby to go up to her room and rest, and everyone else followed in her wake.

 

Following Day on your way to his room, you catch Kicken through a crack in the door.

 

He looks teary eyed and conflicted, with Bubba comforting him, but looking far out of his depth in the emotions department.

 

You hear him whispering something to the bird, with Kick only responding with the shake of his head and a quiet, desperate mumble.

 

Today their worlds have been shaken, and you’re afraid it may all fall apart before it begins, but you know this is the only way it could have begun in the first place.

 

You look down at your plastic hands, now more powerless than ever before, but more prepared to forge ahead regardless.

 

It's going to take a long time to get used to this.

 

.

Notes:

I Don't Mean To Make Kicken A Whiney Dude, But He Has A Point. This Is All They've Known And They've Only Ever Had Each Other. All The Caretakers Besides Harley Are Dead, And Things Are Getting Worse And Worse For Every Toy In The Factory. Id Be Scared To Take A Leap Like That Too, But Thats Where Fac Kicken And Toon Kicken Differ. Both Have The Capacity To Be Brave, But Only One Feels Comfortable Enough To Go For It.

Lets Hope They Can Help Each Other Be Better People. Gotta Kill One Of Them First Tho, Sry >:3

Chapter 27: SIDE STORIES: "The Star Student" (NSFW)

Summary:

Bored and tired after a study session that had interrupted his "special private Kicken time," K.C finds a moment alone to... test a thing he'd bought previously. He'd finally gotten the courage to try after his embarrassment over a certain blue elephant finding it, and now he wants to use it to vent some of his pent up feelings towards him. Hopefully nobody hears. '>w<

Meanwhile, Bubba goes on a quick mail run to get something he ordered just for Kicken. Hopefully it can say what he can't and let the bird know that he wants to take their newfound and currently awkward relationship to the next level. After all, he know's Kicken likes this kind of thing.

Notes:

Oh, Hey, The First NSFW Section. Or At Least The First I've Written, Seeing As DayNap Actually Comes First, But That's Future Me's Problem!
For Now, Here's Two Gay Doofus' Who Just Recently Got Together And Have NO Idea What They're Doing '>w<

As For Where This Takes Place In The Story, I Wanted To Leave The NSFW Scenes To Be Optional, So Anywhere That Makes Sense After Kick And Bubba Actually Admit Their Love For Each Other And Official Refer To One Another As Boyfriends.

And Uh... Before The Universe Falls Apart, Obvs. '>w<

Anyway, If You Haven't Read Integrity's Fall Or Have Read Any Of The Smut I've Written, I Hope This Is A Good Gauge Of My Abilities, And Past That, I Obviously Hope Its Hot Enough For People To Enjoy. There's Frankly Not Enough Starstudent, Or Starstudent Smut, As Well As Cuddlejump for that matter.

Hope Mine Will Do! Enjoy And Have Fun! ^w^

Kicken: This is it. This is where I die.

 

A snicker is heard as Kicken flops backwards onto his bed with a huff.

 

Hoppy: It's official. Paper beats Kick.

 

Bubba: Don't be so dramatic, Kicken. It's algebraic geometry, not rocket science.

 

Kicken: Ughhhh, what's the point though!

 

The elephant pokes a hoof at a dot on the bird's graph with a deadpan.

 

Bubba: This is the point.

 

Hoppy fails to hold back her giggles.

 

Hoppy: Uh oh! Bubba's makin’ jokes now! We're such a bad influence on him.

 

Bubba: Is there no one safe from your corruption?

 

Kick tries his best to look grumpy, but despite the monotony of schoolwork, the laughter is infectious.

 

Not that he's gonna make it obvious mind you.

 

Covering his increasingly obvious smile with a wing, he rolls over into the corner of the bed, as far away from the dreaded schoolwork as possible.

 

Bubba: Come on Kick. We're almost done.

 

Kicken: Mmmmrrrrnghh…

 

Hoppy: It's no use. He's entered his cocoon state.

 

Bubba: Well, he's been like this all day. I can't get him to focus on anything.

 

Bubba: I’ve already given up trying to prepare his glasses prescription, update his calendar, organize his work by class-...

 

Bubba: We have to get something done.

 

Kicken wouldn't dare say so out loud, but he WAS doing something before Bubba started “surprise productivity day.”

 

He was… jerking off.

 

Another reason why it's so impossible to think about maths right now.

 

Once he’d finally gotten Bubba to stop nagging him about the glasses and the calendar, he hoped he'd have a chance to deal with himself, but Bubba soon invited Hoppy and Picky over for a joint tutoring session.

 

Kick couldn't even make an excuse to try and do it in the restroom or anything!

 

The walls are too thin, aside from the one between the hallway and the dorm itself.

 

He hasn't had significant privacy for weeks which would usually be fine, but he's just so… so..!

 

Pent up!

 

He grumbles at someones poke at his defensive turtle position.

 

It doesn't help that anytime he looks at Bubba, his brain pulls a, well… unhelpful thought out of absolute nowhere.

 

Usually about how big he is, or how soft he'd feel.

 

Maybe about his face. The expressions he hadn't seen yet and maybe what he'd look like when-

 

Wait, wait, wait! Dangerous thought process!!!

 

After another poke he waves away the paw with a wing and buries himself deeper.

 

Oh lord, he can feel himself getting hard. Now is NOT the time!

 

Hopefully he can just get this stupid work done and-

 

Two more jabs and he turns around

 

Kicken “Hey, quit it, Hoppy-! ”

 

His words and breath catch in his mouth as he turns to find not the green rabbit he expects, but a certain large blue elephant just inches from his face.

 

His binary pupils shift around, observing the bird's surprise as Kicken backs up.

 

Bubba: Look, let’s try and focus. The faster we finish, the faster you’ll be free of stress.

 

As he speaks, Kick can feel his breath blanket his chest and neck as the elephant leans in, looking him in the eyes.

 

It's gotten real warm all the sudden.

 

Kicken: S-Sorry, sorry, let's just get this over with!

 

Blush clear and present, the poor rooster nabs the graph paper and tries to focus on NOT thinking about Bubba.

 

About his breath, about how he smelled, how close they were.

 

Those calculating eyes brushing over his every facet.

 

…

 

He places his bag in his lap as he works.

 

Thankfully, Bubba had gone right back to his own work, awaiting questions should his friends have any.

 

Hoppy, who'd watched the whole ordeal from the corner, smirks knowingly.

 

She scootches over and nudges Picky.

 

Hoppy: Haha, wow, how obvious could he be?

 

Picky: Hm?

 

Hoppy: Psh, don't tell me you don't see it! That's an atoooomic level crush right there!

 

Picky: Ayyyyup.

 

Hoppy: …

 

Hoppy: You almost done?

 

Picky: I ain't gonna letcha copy.

 

Hoppy: What? C'mon!

 

Meanwhile Bubba sits comfortably in his chair, looking down absentmindedly at the work he'd finished about an hour ago.

 

He could start something early from this week's agenda, but he finds his mind is far too clouded.

 

And by who else but Kicken.

 

Bubba saw how the bird looked at him, but something's… different.

 

Sure they're kind of almost kind of together now? Not that the others know that, but there was something curious behind just the normal fixation or flusteration Kicken usually displays around him.

 

Something so seemingly familiar.

 

And so he does what he does best.

 

Thinks.

 

All four of them stay like this for the next 45 minutes.

With a thwap, Kicken slaps his pencil down and pushes his work away, book and all.

 

Kicken: Done!

 

Kicken: Done, done, done, and never again!

 

Bubba: Let me double check-

 

With the speed of a comet, Kicken swipes the book away and hides it behind him.

 

Kicken: Nope! Nuh uh! Later!

 

Bubba: But-

 

Kicken: Bubs, we've been at this for like five hours . We should take a break!

 

Bubba: It's been two and a half.

 

Hoppy: Still, he's got a point. I gotta go get some junk done anyway.

 

Kicken suddenly looks desperate for her not to leave, be It because of the awkwardness, or simply to just let him suffer alone with Bubba's perfectionism.

 

Bubba: Ah. Well, if you should have any-

 

Hoppy: Mhm, Mhm! Sure thing Bubba, and thanks for the tutoring!

 

She's already dragging Picky out the door, who gives Bubba a passing nod goodbye that he returns.

 

Before the rabbit’s out the door however, she meets the rooster's star shaped eyes for a second.

 

And winks.

 

With that, the door is closed and Kick is just as blushy as he was before.

 

Bubba: I hope I wasn't keeping them. I offered to tutor them under the preconception that they had the time.

 

Kicken: Maybe she just… forgot?

 

A few moments pass where neither know exactly what to say.

 

The malaise of awkward vibes is nearly suffocating.

 

That is until Bubba meets the bird's eyes again, holding the moment in time via the tension alone.

 

Bubba: Kicken? Is there something-..?

 

A ring tone is heard, cutting him off mid sentence as he slightly grumbles.

 

That grumble turns into a sigh after he pulls his phone out, rolling his eyes.

 

Kicken notices a small blush beginning to burn on his perfect blue face for but a moment.

 

Bubba: I have a package that arrived late. I have to get into town before the post closes. I'll be back.

 

Kicken: O-Ok. Yeah. Have fun.

 

Bubba: You as well. Thank you.

 

He opens the door, idling for a moment after grabbing his keys and wallet.

 

Bubba: Do tell me if something is bothering you.

 

There’s intention and honesty in his eyes. He really does hope whatever is wrong isn’t too bad.

 

The bird gives a small, quick nod to his large boyfriend(?) before the door icloses behind him.

 

Finally, he lets out a sigh of relief.

 

Bubba is gone, which is a weight off his back for sure.

 

However, Bubba is gone.

 

Which sucks.

 

Now Kick is stuck alone with his own thoughts.

 

Alone, thinking about Bubba.

 

Bubba and his… um…

 

All alone?

 

Wait, this is my chance!

 

Jumping up, he nearly falls over from the sudden rush to his head which shoots right back down to his loins again.

 

He can't help but shudder, his breath growing heavy as he removes his bag and looks down.

 

Oh lord, this is the hardest he's ever been isn't it?

 

He wonders if it's unhealthy to hold it in for this long.

 

Bubba would know, but there's no way he'd ask him about something like that…

 

Looking towards the door Bubba just left from, he can imagine him standing there just seeing the state the bird is in.

 

It makes him shiver in a way he doesn't know is good or bad.

 

Shaking himself out of the trance he digs into the closet for a moment before coming out with a box.

 

The box, In fact.

 

The packaging loves to elicit embarrassing memories, so he quickly puts it aside as soon as he retrieves what's inside.

 

Finally, after months, he’s face to face with the most regretful purchase he's ever made, and can finally put his curiosity to rest.

 

A seven and a half inch horse dildo.

 

Completely unused thanks to the fact that just looking at it reminds him of why he bought it.

 

Or what had happened when he left it lying around.

 

He just stares for a moment as it lay in his lap.

 

Maaaaybe I got a size too big .

 

Well it IS really soft .

 

It has a  smooth and semi warm texture, and he squeezes here and there to test the firmness.

 

He's never actually held a dildo before.

 

How accurate is it to the real thing?

 

How accurate is it to…

 

Another shudder rocks through him like mad, a visceral memory of what he felt as he pressed buy, sat there in his bed all those nights ago.

 

A chaotic mix of emotions from shameful all the way to extraordinarily horny.

 

He remembered being a bit frustrated that there wasn't an elephant option before suddenly being hit with elation, embarrassment and something else.

 

All from the recognition of why he wanted that shape so much in the first place.

 

It all starts flooding back into him now, nearly as powerful as it was then, and it gets his heart racing and his cock throbbing.

 

His breath is already labored as he looks down at how much pre is leaking out of him.

 

I… I can't wait anymore.

 

I need to try this.

 

I need to try it now.

 

He fumbles for his bedside drawer, nearly dropping the paw sized bottle of lube Bubba had given him back when he found the dildo in the first place.

 

A part of him liked the feeling of overwhelming embarrassment.

 

Like really, really liked it.

 

The bottle splutters as he pumps a significant blob of the stuff out and onto the horsecock. 

 

He applies generously, unsure how much he needs, but sure that he can't go wrong with a lot extra.

 

As he strokes the toy up and down he can't help but imagine it was Bubba, not that he knew what he looked like, but…

 

The wet sound of the lube sets his mind in a haze, his thoughts on how much an elephant could cum.

 

Would he even be able to take him if he had the chance?

 

Can he even take this?

 

Steadying his breathing, he tries to get his bearings back.

 

He just needs to try.

 

Kick stands up, placing the dildo on the edge of his bed and turning around.

 

Gently, he rubs the leftover lube on his wings against his hole and shivers at the feeling.

 

It's sensitive. Of course it's sensitive.

 

It doesn't help that it’s cold, but the light shock definitely adds a feeling to the chaos in his head.

 

He spreads himself out, looking back at the toy which sticks up with a slight curve forwards.

 

Just… imagine Bubba.

 

You're doing this for Bubba.

 

Or maybe…

 

He's doing this to you…

 

You… you want him…

 

Unable to wait much longer, he gently lowers himself down.

 

The soft head presses against his hole, threatening to touch every most sensitive spot if he keeps going.

 

He takes a deep breath and can imagine Bubba’s hoofs crawling up his back as he'd gently place them on his shoulders, nudging the bird down onto his cock.

 

He feels a dull but pleasant pressure as the head pushes in.

 

The way it flares makes it so that once it's past a certain point, it starts to slide in on its own, which makes Kicken let out a noise he'd hate to have been recorded.

 

He can only manage to be embarrassed for a moment until more pleasure starts to flood in.

 

It's so powerful he has to stop for a moment, but with his legs shaking the way they are, he fears they may give out, so he tries his best to keep going.

 

Halfway down he can feel the soft, wet dick drag against the walls of his insides and press against what he can only assume is his prostate based on the sudden, overwhelming feeling that makes him tense almost uncontrollably.

 

Soon after the floodgates open and the pleasure comes crashing down.

 

He hazards another press and It feels even better.

 

He unconsciously moves his hips back and forth, letting out a soft but drawn out moan that makes him flinch to check if the door is locked.

 

It's ok. It's just me. Alone.

 

Just me and…

 

B-Bubba's thick cock.

 

He very slowly pushes a bit further, now 2/3rds of the way in and feels something that could be considered pride through all the lust.

 

Heheh, I can totally take him.

 

He keeps going, entirely lost in his fantasy.

 

Kicken: Mmhnnnn, Bubbaaaa~...

 

Then he hears a noise that makes his heart drop.

 

And then his whole body.

 

The sound of the lock turning on the door sends Kicken scrambling, but his talons slide out from under him and he throws his hands down to catch himself.

 

However, the damage was already done, and the horsedick buries itself deep in his ass, the poor bird letting out a pleasured squeak so small and strangled that you could almost assume he really loved the way that had felt.

 

Just then, the door is successfully unlocked and Kicken flails for enough wherewithal to yoink his backpack and pull it over his twitching, leaking cock again.

 

Seeing who's in the doorway only makes it that much harder.

 

Bubba “Have you… just been sitting there like that this whole time?”

 

Kicken “ N-No. I MEAN YEAH! ”

 

Kicken “I j-just c-can't think of what to do. Man, it's cold in here, yeah? Um…”

 

In what would assuredly be a bad decision if it weren't for the fact he's a tight virgin of a bird, Kicken stands up, trying as best as he can to keep the dildo buried inside him facing away.

 

The only thing harder than trying not to let out a moan from the massive horsedick within, is his own dick as it rubs against his bag

 

He shuffles sideways until an awkward and confused looking Bubba turns to set his keys down. 

 

Quickly, he steps into the closet and puts on the first pair of pants he can find.

 

They're a tacky set of multicolored parachute pants he bought in a dare to see if he could pull off a fit.

 

Ironically, they look just as dumb as the situation he's put himself in.

 

The main problem is that he never wears bottoms.

 

Hopefully Bubba doesn't ask.

 

Out of the closet now, Kick finds the elephant staring at him from where he sits on his bed, package at his side.

 

Kicken: You… got back fast.

 

Bubba: The post office is two streets away.

 

Fuck.

 

Kicken: They uh… They work fast?

 

Bubba: It is their job.

 

Kicken: …

 

Bubba: …

 

Almost forgetting his predicament, Kicken goes to sit down, thankfully remembering to be gentle with himself.

 

Bubba: Kicken…

 

Don't sound nervous. Don't sound nervous.

 

Kicken: Y- Yeah Bubs?

 

He cringes at the way his voice nearly cracks.

 

Bubba: I'd asked before but… are you ok?

 

Kicken: Yeah! Just uhhhh… just school stress y’know? What's- what's the package?

 

As if remembering he even got it, Bubba glances at it for a moment before he stands up.

 

To Kicken’s surprise, arousal, and a few other things, Bubba walks right up to him.

 

He gets close, very close, making eye contact.

 

There's a few seconds of deliberation behind his eyes.

 

Bubba seemed trepidatious to ask what was on his mind, but there's a glimmer in his expression that tells Kick he realised something.

 

And that makes the bird feel all sorts of things.

 

The elephant gently brings his hoofs to his shoulders, leaning in so he's basically whispering in the bird's ear.

 

Bubba: Is it really school stress, or… something else?

 

Kicken nearly gasps at how worked up that voice gets him.

 

It was husky. Deliberate.

 

And all at once it's proved to him that Bubba knows.

 

Kick may not know what he knows, but Bubba can tell Kicken is a particular kind of worked up and he understands exactly who it's all for.

 

Kicken: I-It’s…

 

With a little hesitation, Kicken slides his wings gently around the elephant's soft midsection, silently telling him with his eyes alone what the problem is.

 

Only for Bubba to respond by pressing a hoof to the bird's chest and gently pushing him down onto the bed.

 

With that look in his eyes again; the one Kicken loves so much, he curiously wanders over the rooster's body, eager to solve him like a puzzle.

 

What is making Kicken so worked up?

 

To Bubba, many things stand out.

 

The bird reeks of musk, he could tell as much when he walked in.

 

The room is warm, and Kick is even warmer.

 

He put on pants. They don't hide his bulge very well.

 

Bubba gets closer, slowly dragging a hoof along the bird's thigh in almost an inquisitive way.

 

Kicken squirms in response and Bubba has to contain himself for a moment or else he may just lose himself to his own suddenly increasing urges.

 

Without warning, and quite bluntly, Kicken yelps as Bubba grabs him by the thighs and raises his talons, exposing his clothed, but still tender backside.

 

The smell is very powerful now.

 

Bubba makes eye contact with the flustered Kick for but a moment.

 

He can basically see his dick throb through the fabric just from the knowing expression he was given.

 

With a good grasp on how this is gonna go, Bubba leans forward, one knee on the bed as he looks Kick in the eyes, slowly sliding his hoof down until it meets something more firm than Kicken’s butt.

 

Bubba: Tell me, are you sure you’re ok?

 

He gently presses on it, and Kicken gasps and squeaks as the dildo is pushed to its base.

 

Bubba tests it again, this time leaning in just inches from Kicken’s face.

 

Bubba: Mhm. And how can I help?

 

Kicken: Y-You… I-

 

Bubba: Me?

 

He keeps on teasing and it sends Kicken into another squirming fit, the few moans intermixed like music to Bubba's ears

 

Kicken: It isn't… you. I-...

 

Kicken: I need… you.

 

Bubba graciously lets off for a moment, whispering once again in Kick's ear.

 

Bubba: I'll help you anytime you want. You just have to ask.

 

Kicken: P-Please, please Bubba-

 

But he's cut off as Bubba lifts his trunk and presses his lips against the bird's beak.

 

Kicken is lost entirely as Bubba gently directs him through the kiss, meanwhile the bird follows in a haze of lust.

 

He strangely loves the feeling of  Bubba's trunk as it idles, not knowing exactly what to do, just moving about in tandem with their tongues.

 

As he lets off, Kick is practically gasping for air, yet Bubba is as calm and composed as ever.

 

Matched with the rose tint of such a heated moment, he looks absolutely gorgeous to Kicken.

 

He moves lower, getting to work on removing Kicks dumb looking pants.

 

The bird can hardly help him out in such a stunned state, but when they're off, Bubba is back to teasing him with the dildo.

 

He's focused more on the dildo now, but for a stray, selfish moment, Bubba takes a glance at the rooster's cock.

 

Its shape, how it moves, how much pre pumps out.

 

He must have been really pushing himself with this thing.

 

Bubba: How big is it?

 

Kicken: I don't- uh r- remember.

 

Kicken: I wanted to know if…

 

Kicken: I-If I could take you…

 

Me..?

 

He wanted to take… mine?

 

Bubba: Let's see.

 

Without warning, the dildo starts to slide out, hitting every sensitive and tender spot that it had rubbed going in.

 

Soon to the head, Bubba takes a moment to admire the length and girth, another to admire Kicken’s apparently very resilient ass.

 

He tugs here and there but doesn't fully take it out until he catches eye contact with Kicken again.

 

He watches closely as the rooster squirms and pants until one final, satisfying moan echoes the room as it pops out.

 

Kicken’s hole doesn't have much reprieve before a hoof is pressed against it, prodding and testing.

 

Slowly it goes in, and out, as he listens for any pained whimpers, but it only leaves Kick whining for more.

 

Bubba looks away at his package for a moment but soon comes back to Kicken.

 

That will be for later.

 

He lowers his gaze to the roosters leaking cock before stepping forward and gently placing his own alongside it.

 

Kick is nearly dumbfounded.

 

It's bigger than the horse by a centimeter or two, but besides that, it's wide.

 

Thick, it's shaft a darker blue as it reaches the tip and his balls are heavy as they press against his still twitching hole.

 

Bubba plaps his cock against Kicken's, letting him feel the weight.

 

Bubba: Is this how you want me to help you?

 

The bird can only nod desperately, feverishly breathing as both their cocks both spread pre across his belly.

 

The scent alone, even just from here, drives Kicken nuts with excitement.

 

All he can think of is how much he wants that warm, thick cock inside of him.

 

Bubba: Ok.

 

He positions himself in front of the bird's ass, pressing against his entrance with his wide shaft as it throbs, both begging to be one with each other.

 

He has to hold himself back. Remind himself that this is Kicken's first time, and that he doesn’t want to hurt him.

 

Bubba: The first push will be slow.

 

T-The first?

 

Kick nods again before his breath catches, the most overwhelming feeling shooting through him as Bubba's cock breaches his insides.

 

It's slow, like he'd promised.

 

Slower than Kick took the dildo, but the girth of it is so much more potent.

 

Slowly but surely his insides are shaped by the elephant's dick, until finally, with one, last, significantly quicker push, the final quarter of hot, musky elephant cock fills him to the brim.

 

Bubba grinds into his ass, making sure to push flush to the base and let him feel every inch.

 

Its incredible, overwhelming and has Kicken panting like a dog.

 

Bubba: Are you feeling better?

 

Kicken: I'm… I'm amazing right now Bubs.~

 

For a moment, that stoic calculating expression is broken.

 

He must know Kick likes it, especially with how flustered it gets him, but an even more genuine emotion overtakes it as a small smile spreads below his trunk.

 

Kicken's euphoria skyrockets and without thinking, he gropes the air for him to come closer.

 

Bubba has a better idea however, and leans back, pulling half his cock with him, only for Kick to get roughly filled again as he's pulled forward, his ass nearly hanging off the edge.

 

Bubba leans over, a low, bassy groan emanating from him in a way that almost sounds like a growl as his hooves tighten around the bird's shoulders.

 

That makes Kicken’s heart rate rise along with the lust as the growl reverberates through both of them.

 

Bubba: Are you ready?

 

Kicken: G-Give me everything you have big guy.~

 

Kicken: Don’t hold back. It- It f-feels too good~

 

Bubba: Hm…

 

Bubba: Only if you promise to try and concentrate more.

 

Kicken: W-wha-?

 

Bubba: I want you to concentrate. 

 

Again, in Kick's ear, the low, husky voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine as Bubba keeps grinding his dick against Kicken’s insides.

 

Bubba: Concentrate on everything you’re feeling right now.

 

Bubba: What do you feel?

 

Kicken: Your d-dick … your voice… b-breath…

 

Bubba: Good. Now-

 

Bubba: I want you to concentrate on how hard I fuck you.

 

Whatever Kicken was going to say was lost to a moan, one of many he devolves into as Bubba begins to rhythmically ram his cock into him.

 

As Kick struggles to think, Bubba does nothing but listen to the wet plapping of his balls against Kicken’s cheeks, the cute moans that escape the bird’s beak, and his own heavy breaths.

 

The way the bed shifts under his weight it's like he could just…

 

One rough thrust later and he bends down, wrapping his arms around the lightweight bird and lifts him right off the bed, cock still buried inside him.

 

Caught off guard, Kicken wraps his legs around the elephant, burying his head in the crook of his neck while Bubba rests his trunk around his shoulder like a second hug.

 

He sits down on his own bed, still thrusting up into Kicken as he lays back.

 

The both fumble for a bit before Bubba is now spooning the bird, touching him all the while.

 

He loves the feeling of Kicken's pleasure around his cock as he shivers and twitches, only increasing as he starts to masturbate him.

 

His moans at this point are labored and tense, and Bubba just can't get enough of the noises he makes while getting fucked.

 

Soon enough he starts to feel everything tense around him, the bird locking up for a moment as his cock throbs in his hooves.

 

Bubba: Good. Let it out.

 

Kicken: B-But your bed-

 

He cuts him off with a sharp thrust, pushing the head of his dick right against Kick's prostate, making his breath hitch.

 

Bubba: Our bed. Make as much of a mess as you want. I want to see you do it.

 

Kicken: I-I…

 

Bubba: Cum for me Kicken.

 

Kicken: Bubba~...

 

Bubba gently massages around Kick's sensitive areas and he finally lets loose in the elephant's embrace.

 

Bubba commits every little twitch and moan the bird lets out to memory as his bed is coated with cum.

 

It's… a lot, to be honest . Bubba didn't know just how pent up Kicken had been.

 

Though soon enough he's just a panting, shivering mess, safe in his lover's hooves and it’s all he can think about.

 

How Bubba completely took him apart and put him back together again.

 

And how hot it was the whole time he did it.

 

Though the sheets are painted with his cum, Kick still wanted to treat Bubba as well, no matter how exhausted he may have felt.

 

Kicken: Bubs?

 

He feels his feathers ruffle as the elephant nods, his trunk resting gently along the bird's neck.

 

Kicken: What about you?

 

He's quiet for a moment, just enjoying the moment with both of them together, though still takes the question into account.

 

Bubba: Did you want to help me?

 

Kicken: Yeah, of course! I wanna make you just as happy as you make me.

 

He glances back at the package again to Kick's confusion.

 

Bubba: Are you… sore?

 

Kicken: N-Not as much as I thought I'd be.

 

Bubba: I… I want to put something else in you.

 

His feathers fluff up as excitement flares throughout him.

 

It makes Bubba's chest tingle as he's once again baffled by how adorable Kicken can be sometimes.

 

Slowly, Bubba sits up, taking the package he'd brought in his hooves.

 

He wasn’t expecting them to get this far this fast, but clearly they understood and cared for each other enough to fall ass backwards into sex like this.

 

Bubba preferred to be prepared. To show people how they could benefit from spending a night together.

 

So… he bought Kicken a gift.

 

Something he thought he'd like based off a few… impromptu conversations they ended up having.

 

As he opened the package, Kicken sat up as well, his feathers ruffled in a way that would normally make Bubba really want to gently brush them down.

 

And though he'd jump at a chance to pamper his bird, he also thinks it's way too cute to ruin.

 

It gets harder when the rooster leans against him as he finishes opening the package.

 

Sighing away the tinge of embarrassment, he leans his head on Kicken’s and looks away as he presents the contents of the box.

 

Kicken: W-What’s..?

 

Bubba: Toys. E-Eggs specifically. I thought you'd…

 

Gently, Kicken takes the box of adult toys in his wings and looks at them close, looking back to Bubba with an embarrassed, but grateful smile.

 

He… does kinda have a thing for these to be honest.

 

He knew he wasn't trans or anything, but he's certainly enjoyed the idea of someone… well, putting an egg in him.

 

Kicken: Y-You wanna..?

 

Bubba: I was planning to ask you to s-... sleep with me.

 

Bubba: Whenever and however you pleased honestly, I was ready to be very patient about it.

 

Bubba: But it turns out we both really wanted this.

 

Kicken: Yeah.

 

He looks back at the eggs.

 

Kicken: It’s sweet. That you got me a gift and everything just to ask to fuck me.

 

Bubba: D-Don’t be so crass!

 

He blushes, looking away.

 

Kicken can't help but smirk playfully seeing all that husky dominance give way to something more genuinely Bubba.

 

Not that that wasn't absolutely hot as all get out, and Bubba's intention in the first place, but Kicken can easily appreciate both sides of the elephant.

 

All sides, even.

 

Kicken: Says the one who told me to remember just how hard he just railed me.

 

He pokes him in the belly which brings the elephant back to reality fast.

 

Bubba: I-I-...

 

Suddenly, Kicken shifts, straddling Bubba’s rapidly increasing half chub and pushing him down into the bed with him.

 

He lays atop him, reveling in his soft, comfy body.

 

They hadn't touched much before, but Kicken at least knew Bubba had an interest in how his smooth feathers felt, and in turn, Kicken was enamored by how rugged but soft Bubba’s skin was.

 

He felt so warm too. Pillows and toys could never compare to how comfortable and warm an actual person was.

 

He brings Bubba's hooves to his butt and takes the chance to do his own erotic whispering.

 

Kicken: I'm never gonna forget tonight. You can do whatever you want to me, I trust you.

 

Bubba: A-Are you sure? You can pick which one if-

 

Kicken: C'mon, I took you didn't I?

 

Kicken: Put an egg in me Bubs. Your egg, whatever one you want.

 

He grins as he feels the elephant's cock now throb at full mast again.

 

Bubba opens the box as the rooster nuzzles into him, as comfortable as can be.

 

The eggs were soft, with firm cores.

 

There were green, yellow and purple varients, and they came pre-charged with a remote.

 

There was small, medium and large, the medium being about the size of his palm, large being his whole hoof itself.

 

Maybe it's not as long as his own cock, but… it sure is wide.

 

M-Maybe not-

 

Kicken starts to absentmindedly grind against him as he gets hard again, his soft panting against the elephant's neck getting even more erratic.

 

Well…

 

He takes the bottle that came with it, and applies the lube to the largest egg.

 

As he does, he can't help but stare at Kicks butt all the while.

 

He used to try not to be so obvious about it, but now he can't take his eyes away.

 

Slowly, he brings the top of the egg up to press against Kicken's hole, its previous use by Bubba and the dildo letting it push in easily.

 

Kicken: Ohhhh fuuuuck~

 

The moan vibrates through both of them and Bubba repositions to hold the egg and Kicken with one hoof, the other tending to his hardon.

 

As he touches himself he gently presses the egg in more, Kicken letting out a little squeak right next to his ear.

 

Bubba: Is this ok?

 

Kicken: Mhmmmm~

 

Kicken sighs out, feeling the dull soreness of his hole stretching to fit the large egg while he's wracked with pleasure.

 

He wraps his wings around Bubba tight as it reaches its apex, just moments from popping all the way in.

 

Bubba: R-Ready?

 

Kicken: Yeah Bubs, stuff me full~

 

As asked, Bubba pushes the egg and the bird's ass does the rest of the work as the egg pops in all at once.

 

Kicken shivers and moans, tensing up around Bubba's body.

 

He rubs the lump in his belly and can hardly keep his thoughts together as they run wild with lust fueled imagination.

 

Bubba just put an egg in him!

 

He feels so full and it feels so damn good, but he doesn't want to let himself forget why he felt so good to begin with.

 

He shifts over with a newfound confidence and is first to initiate a kiss instead of Bubba.

 

Bubba is in love with how inexperienced Kick is with the whole thing.

 

The dork basically just pushed their mouths together, and Bubba can't help but let out a little breathy chuckle before kissing back.

 

He doesn't take the reins per say, but helps the bird through in a way they hadn't for the first, more ravenous kiss.

 

This one was soft, loving.

 

Bubba could tell how much Kick really genuinely cared for him, just by the way he treated the process.

 

It's an emotion almost new to him as this kind of love always felt… dull.

 

Not like this. Not so inexplicably powerful.

 

Overwhelming in the best way possible.

 

Not to mention the feeling of the bird squirming on top of him as he rests his weight there, wrapping his thighs around Bubba's still very hard cock.

 

The soft pressure makes him subconsciously buck his hips up, and the feeling of his dick on Kicken's soft feathers is amazing, not to mention the comfortable warmth of his thighs.

 

He continues to hump his legs, grasping blindly for another egg as his left hoof meets Kicks backside rather roughly.

 

It only makes the bird kiss deeper, only letting off when Bubba starts to spread his cheeks again.

 

Bubba: Another?

 

Kicken nods as he cuddles him closer.

 

Kicken: As many as you want. Fill me up Bubba~

 

That only makes him fuck the bird's thighs even harder as he struggles to position the egg, though he can't bring himself to slow down.

 

It's even easier to pop the medium sized egg in, and Kicken almost gasps in a way that makes Bubba stop altogether.

 

Thankfully, the birds seizing and moans tell him all he needs to know.

 

Kicken is about to cum, and so is he.

 

In an attempt to get a better position, and eager to make Kick cum again, Bubba tries to flip them both over.

 

When he does Kicken lets out a chirpy moan unlike anything he'd heard from him, and hears a strange noise alongside it.

 

They'd rolled over onto the remote.

 

He grins almost mischievously as he presses a hoof against the rooster's raised belly.

 

The vibrations and pressure from both sides are too much for Kick, and he barely breathes out one single word.

 

Kicken: C-Close, close!

 

In response, Bubba only presses down harder, still gently, but enough to slowly nudge the eggs closer to their exit.

 

Meanwhile, he's practically humping into his hand, jacking himself off as he looks down at the pure euphoria his bird is in, splayed out across his bed like that.

 

Bubba’s gotten close enough to where he has to slow down to get in the right position, and once he's there he just grips himself, watching the twitching bird and his leaking cock intently.

 

And with one of the most erotic moans he'd ever heard, Kicken cums again.

 

Bubba pushes down his belly and the eggs both pop out as Kick coats himself in his own jizz.

 

The sight is more than enough for Bubba, who eagerly adds to it.

 

Still in the midst of his orgasm, Kick watches as Bubba's breath hitches, that beautiful, serene expression of his screwing up, as his thick elephant cock pulses while he kneels, jacking off above the bird.

 

All before a torrent of cum shoots all over Kicken, who, in his ecstasy, can't get enough of it.

 

As they both ride out their orgasms, Bubba leans to the side, collapsing next to him in bed.

 

Kicken’s wing finds a hoof, and they both silently process what just happened.

 

Kicken just let me-...

 

Bubba just-...

 

Still lightly panting, Kicken leans his head against Bubba's shoulder, and he leans back like clockwork.

 

Bubba: You're very… touchy.

 

Bubba: Cuddly, rather.

 

Kicken: I like being close to you.

 

Bubba: It reminds me of our old sleepovers. You and DogDay.

 

Bubba cringes only after realising his horrible conversational skills had him bring up Day of all people right now.

 

Kicken laughs a bit awkwardly, but understands what he's getting at.

 

Kicken: W-When I'm close to someone, I just… wanna be closer.

 

Bubba: You're a very physical lover. I'm thankful for that because outside of… situations like these, I wouldn't know what to do, or even how.

 

Kicken: It's ok.

 

Bubba: …

 

Bubba: Sorry…for bringing up Day.

 

Kicken: I-I get it. We all mess up like that sometimes. I knew you didn't mean it like you were jealous or anything.

 

Bubba: I…

 

Bubba: Honestly, I was.

 

Kicken processes that for a moment.

 

Kicken: Not anymore?

 

Bubba: No. I made peace with assuming I'd never get the chance. I didn't believe I could work up the nerve.

 

Bubba: That is… until recently.

 

Kicken: And after that you bought me sex toys as a gift.

 

Bubba blushes, looking away from Kick so he couldn't even see the slightest bit of his adorable embarrassed face.

 

Though the cute way in which his trunk curls told Kick all he needed to know.

 

Bubba: It's the only thing I could think of that could act as a way to show my love and attention to things you like, whilst prompting a-… a conversation I was unsure how to start.

 

The bird snickers at Bubba's plan, but to be honest, it definitely would have worked.

 

Kicken: Well look where we are now.

 

Kicken: I'm on your bed, covered in your jizz.

 

The elephant almost coughs in surprise, but can't look away for too long.

 

Kicken’s confidence despite saying such words is confounding to the elephant. It always has been.

 

Kicken: You got me Bubba, I'm yours.

 

Bubba: I… suppose so.

 

Kicken: So much for thinking you couldn't do it.

 

Kicken: Kinda hard to deny you had a chance when you just stuffed me full of eggs and-

 

Bubba: Ok, ok! Y-You should shower so you don't stain your feathers.

 

Flustered, he stands from his bed quickly.

 

Bubba: Or… we can shower. If that's ok with you.

 

Awaiting his response, and unaware, Bubba stands there until Kicken comes right up to him.

 

He wraps his wings around the elephant's belly and with a sudden skill Bubba wouldn't have expected, kisses him deeply and passionately, leaving him stunned by the time they pull away from one another.

 

Kicken: No way I'd miss a chance to appreciate you.

 

As he walks away, leaving the shocked elephant there, he echoes from the bathroom.

 

Kicken: Plus I just got a bunch of cum on you.

 

He sighs in what usually would be frustration, but nothing in the world could make him mad at Kick right now.

 

And so he follows.

One fresh shower and a laundry run later, they’re both laying in Bubba's bed once again, ready to sleep for the night.

 

While it had been on their minds ever since, neither of them could quite capture the gravity of what they'd just done.

 

Bubba, who’d been so sure he’d never have a chance with Kicken, and would have to simply wait for the other to fess up or move on, now lay with the bird in his own bed, cuddled up to one another like he'd wished they could ever since that sleepless night he saw him and Dogday doing the same.

 

He was touch starved, that he knew well, yet he could never seek it out for it himself.

 

Now with the promise he could get it whenever he asked, he was scared he may become too reliant on it. Too comfortable. 

 

He doesn't want to ever take Kicken for granted.

 

But… denying himself something he's craved for so long…

 

That would be unhealthy. Kick may end up thinking he doesn't truly love him.

 

Oh…

 

Love.

 

It's a surprising thing to him, yet of course, he loves Kicken…

 

He can't let it go to waste.

 

Kicken squeaks out a surprised chirp when Bubba nearly engulfs him, wrapping his big arms around the smaller bird and pulling him close enough to rest atop him.

 

It's beyond comfortable, especially with how exhausted the two are.

 

Kicken idly rubs Bubba's belly and he rumbles out a sort of thank you.

 

Since they'd cleaned up in the shower, Kicken had been thinking.

 

This felt very fast to him. Like his wildest dreams were just placed in his lap.

 

Bubba and him hadn't always gotten along, and though it was much, much better now, neither of them were perfect.

 

Bubba would probably argue that nobody is perfect, and Kick would agree, but his fear was that his best just wouldn't be enough.

 

What if he messed up big time again?

 

What would that mean for them?

 

He doesn't know if he could handle disappointing Bubba, losing him, anything!

 

What if he ruins this?

 

What would he do without him?

 

Bubba: Are you ok?

 

Kicken: W-What?

 

Bubba: Your heartbeat… what's wrong?

 

Kicken: I don't-… I-I'm scared…

 

Kicken: Sorry…

 

Bubba: It's ok to be scared. You don't always have to be so confident to do something.

 

Bubba: Just do your best. Nobody is perfect.

 

Kicken: Heh. Knew you'd say that.

 

Bubba: Cause it's true. You can't be perfect, nothing is.

 

Bubba: But you're so close Kick. Sure, you make some mistakes, but instead of having many flaws, you only have a few.

 

Bubba: In my eyes, at least.

 

Bubba: A-And that's not- It doesn't mean I…

 

He sighs, trying to collect himself, and Kicken finds comfort in the way his chest rises, and breath cascades around them.

 

They're talking.

 

They're making this work.

 

Bubba: I'm not trying to focus on your flaws. You have a lot of amazing things about you, and I just want to help you be even better.

 

Bubba: So I try and help you with those flaws as best as I can.

 

Bubba: But… I know I can sound accusatory. Or like I don't appreciate who you are.

 

Kicken hugs him closer, wanting to comfort him as best as he can.

 

Kicken: Sometimes… it feels like you still hate me deep down.

 

Kicken: But honestly, I feel stupid for thinking that.

 

Bubba: You're not stupid Kick, I never want you to ever think you're stupid!

 

The passion in Bubba's voice makes Kicken blush.

 

Bubba: You're one of the most clever people I know. Not academics wise, no, but academics isn't everything.

 

Bubba: You’re unpredictable, you think on your hooves- uh, talons.  

 

Bubba: You have a quick wit. You make people smile. You’re astonishingly confident, a-and charming- um…

 

Bubba can't help but catch the smile across the bird's beak as he says all of that.

 

Bubba: And you push others to be brave. To do things they otherwise feel they couldn't.

 

Kicken: T-Thanks…

 

Kicken doesn't know why, but he's on the edge of tears.

 

Nobody has ever said all of this to him. At least not all at once.

 

And it's almost like Bubba’s fighting for him.

 

Maybe against Kick’s own bad thoughts, or people that may say bad things about him, but Bubba's speaking with such drive and passion that it's like he's defending him against anyone who would dare assume Kicken is anything less than amazing.

 

And… it’s making him cry.

 

And It's probably the best feeling he's ever experienced.

 

Bubba: You helped me. In so many ways, you’ve helped me.

 

Bubba: I wouldn't have had the confidence to be here with you now, to insist we get a shared dorm, t-to ask you… if…

 

They stare into each others eyes, both taken by one another in a way that would make anyone feel wanted.

 

Cared for.

 

Appreciated…

 

Bubba: I love you Kicken.

 

Bubba: I love you, and I want to tell you that every moment I can.

 

Bubba: So you understand just how much you matter to me.

 

Kicken hugs back, tight.

 

He wants this night to go on forever.

 

He doesn't want this feeling to ever end.

 

He wants to be here with Bubba, and he never ever wants to leave.

 

Kicken: I love you too.

 

Bubba's heart pounds in his chest, his arms shaking.

 

Looking up, Kicken finds that he's crying too.

 

More than crying, he's sobbing.

 

It's not like any expression he's seen from him before.

 

They meet eyes, Bubba's binary pupils blurred and warped behind the tears, but clearly connected with the two glowing stars in front of him.

 

Bubba hiccups out a sob and Kicken buries his face in the crook of his neck.

 

And they both cry.

 

Out of relief, of joy.

 

Kicken is so proud of Bubba, and Bubba is ecstatic that they've finally gotten here after what felt like lifetimes of building tension, hope, and even yearning at some points.

 

But they're here, together, and no matter what happens they won't ever have to tackle it alone.

 

.

Notes:

I Always Get A Bit Romance-y At The End. There Have Been Times Where I Just Find The Aftercare So Adorable, Or Even Just Two Goobers Recognizing Their Love Together After A Fun Time. Hopefully It Didn't End Too Soon For Yall, And Hey, If You Want More Than This Fic Will Have (5 Scenes To be Exact) Then My Visual Novel "Integrity's Fall" Also Has Romance Elements And Equally If Not More Spicier Scenes Between Far More Characters. If You're Interested You Can Find It On Itch.io

Regardless, Thanks For Reading, And Back To Your Regularly Scheduled Spicy Side Stories! ^w^

(Oh, And If You're Wondering Where The Whole "Egg" Thing Came From, It IS In Fact A Reference To KC_Kream's Starstudent Fic. Truly Carving A Path For Us Shippers KC. Thank You for Your Service... o7 )

Chapter 28: SIDE STORIES: "The Dance of Binary Stars" (NSFW)

Summary:

An alternate look at how things could have changed for the two Smiling Critters who've known each other the longest. Two best friends in an ever expanding friend group who've unfortunately grown distant over the many years they've known one another...

But what if it didn't need to be that way?

Notes:

I Just Couldn't Let This Fic Go Without One Of My Favorite Pairings. StarStudent And CuddleJump Are Both Fantastic, But I Can't Forget BinaryStars.
I Love When People Write DogDay And Kicken To Be Best Friends, And What's One Step Further For Two Critters Known To Brighten A Room By Just Being There. Energy, Support, Care For One Another, All Wrapped Up In A Single Adorable Relationship.

Because Of The Fact This Is A One Chapter Thing, I Did Kinda Push it Into Spicy Territory Fast, But Hey, What's K.C If Not Impulsive!

I Hope You All Have Fun And Enjoy! ^w^

CRACK!!!

 

Another bolt of lightning booms, thunder rolling its way across the valley.

 

Rain pelts the window of a dog in distress, tired and torn between his restless attempts to sleep and caving to a few mugs of coffee.

 

He twists and turns, his sheets long since thrown off his bed in frustration.

 

Whining, he sits up as another clap of thunder assaults the valley.

 

It's 12:22am, or so says the alarm he’s been glancing at every five minutes.

 

Slumping back, he stares at the ceiling, tracing his old, fading, glow-in-the-dark stars from the sun all the way to the moon.

 

What he would give for CatNap right now.

 

Sure, he'd been getting better at sleeping alone, heck, he hadn't needed the warmth of another person for months at this point.

 

But that's just the thing.

 

It'd been months.

 

Months since CatNap had talked to him.

 

Months since the cat had lifted his paws to anybody for that matter!

 

Day hadn't even seen CatNap since two whole weeks ago, and that was just a wistful stare through his window, lucky enough to catch him on his balcony as he stared up at the stars.

 

Stars that were so strange to look at without the moon alongside them.

 

All of this time and he still didn't understand why the cat had shut himself away.

 

Everyone was worried.

 

DogDay was beyond worried.

 

He daydreamt about him constantly. About what he could do to help, about Nap finally opening up and letting him help.

 

Sometimes Day would even sign when he was talking, or just to himself

 

It was like his mind was subconsciously wanting to talk to Nap.

 

Earlier that day he accidently caught himself doing it while talking to Hoppy.

 

He couldn't hide why either. Even she understood how worried he's been.

 

He sat up, curled into a ball, resigning himself to his fate.

 

A sleepy Day tomorrow… or today, rather.

 

But that would ruin his precious schedule!

 

Standing up, he turned to look back at his bed.

 

His friend themed pillows stared back, the purple cat's paw wrinkled and creased from the way Day had been clutching it.

 

Bubba thought it was a weird idea for a christmas gift, but it was such a CatNap move to get everyone pillows in their likeness.

 

He even asked Crafty for help.

 

They sewed 56 pillows that year, taking care with each one.

 

It was an absurdly large project that was very carefully hidden from the rest of The Critters.

 

And little did Day know that a stray thought brought on by one of them would change his whole life tonight.

1:45

 

He was staring at the coffee machine.

 

It was the third time he'd walked all the way from his bedroom to his kitchen and back.

 

Slowly but surely he was going through the steps of brewing a cup.

 

Turn it on. Go back and stare at his bed.

 

Place the mug, fill up the water.

 

Go look at the pillows again.

 

Put in the coffee.

 

Hovered over the start button.

 

Go back and sit down again, grabbing the cat's paw and holding it close.

 

Sleep, sleep, sleep.

 

…

 

Nothing .

 

The exhaustion didn't help, nor the bed, nor even the pillows.

 

He rolled back and forth, back and forth, back-…

 

Opening a tired eyelid, his bright star pupil was presented with a plushie.

 

A yellow egg with a beak.

 

It sat between a large green carrot and pink apple.

 

Day fondly remembered back in the day when Kicken would come over on the weekend and they'd stay up all night playing video games.

 

They'd fall asleep leaning against each other, lit only by the flashing lights of the screen.

 

He could remember the image vividly, even if uncle Doey had taken a picture of it.

 

The dog can't help but smile.

 

He missed Doey.

 

He missed CatNap too, so there's another to the pile.

 

Strangely though, he missed Kicken.

 

Sure, he talked to him only six or so hours ago, but what he really missed was Kicken alone.

 

It kind of felt selfish, but Kicken was different around him.

 

Not too different, but he showed more of himself to Day.

 

Something he didn't do with the others, even Hoppy.

 

It made sense. After all, they’ve known each other since elementary; the longest of any of the Critters.

 

Day had listened to the bird ramble on and on about so many things, yet he kept that part of him subdued around the others.

 

He probably thought Hoppy would find all that yapping to be boring, and Bubba, of course, used to despise what he considered Kicken's “useless dialogues.”

 

But that was back in middle school. None of them were doing too good back then.

 

Nowadays Kicken is more himself than he's ever been. A far cry from the insecure, shy bird Day slowly broke out of his shell back when they were kids.

 

They used to spend every day next to one another, even when Bobby came along.

 

Crafty was always content in the background, and though Bubba caught Kicks ire from time to time, Kicken was always back to laughing it up next to Day soon after.

 

They were like a pair of boomerangs. Always finding their way back to one another in the end.

 

Then CatNap came along.

 

Day loved spending time with Nap, of course he did.

 

He loved all the time he spent with his friends, especially individually.

 

But it wasn't until tonight that he realised just how much he'd drifted away from Kicken.

 

It started with taking care of CatNap, then getting over his insomnia with the Nap’s help.

 

He was also his translator, his best friend, the one to reintroduce Nap to society,

 

And DogDay was more than happy to help of course.

 

But all that time with Nap took away from Kicken.

 

It was fine though, he had Hoppy and Bubba.

 

But still, DogDay felt sad and even guilty.

 

Maybe they could have a day where just the original critters hung out.

 

Though hidden under that selfish thought was another.

 

He just wanted to spend the night with Kick again after all these years.

 

Just then, an idea popped into his head

 

But this late at night..?

 

It's a longshot.

Day hesitated over his phone's keyboard.

 

Kicken may not even be awake this late, but with every flash of light behind his curtains came the tense wait before the thundercrack would reach him.

 

Day wasn't afraid of the storm. 

 

Not the barrage of noise that assaulted his sensitive ears, or the uncomfortable feel of his house shaking around him.

 

But the childish thought that the world knew he was struggling, and mirrored his feelings in the sky just to prove to him that he didn’t deserve to be so greedy with his friends.

 

But… it isn’t like that… is it?

 

He started to type.

1:50

 

DogDay: Hey Kicken sorry to bother you but are-

 

SunBuddy is typing…

Well that was fast.

1:52

 

Kicken: wut u doing up so late broski

 

DogDay: Can't sleep

 

Kicken: aw damn

 

Kicken: I was just headin to eep I can keep u company for a lil if u want

 

DogDay: Yes pelase

 

DogDay: Please

 

Kicken: oof maybe I should hit u with a brick and knock you out snoozedog

 

DogDay: No bricks could stop me. Too much coffee

 

Kicken: noooooooo dont drink it dude!!!!!

 

Kicken: you can fall asleep in vc I won't mind remember???

 

Kicken: we can play an mmo until you conk out, so hop on!!

 

DogDay: Oh, I was thinking maybe something else

 

Kicken: new game who dis?

 

DogWitDaBudder is typing…

Now embarrassed from the confusion, Day doesn't quite know how to get his intentions across without sounding childish.

 

He's the leader. He should be helping the others, not the other way around!

2:02

 

DogDay: Is it ok if I come over?

There's a moment where Kicken doesn't respond and it makes Day's insecurity flare up.

 

This was stupid. I'm just making a fool of myself!

 

I should have been over this years ago, I-

2:03

 

Kicken: ye dude no porblem. doors iz open

 

Kicken: well not literally but I lost the key in the lake that one time

 

Kicken: so go ahead and break in man! come in and steal all mah shit

 

Kicken: shiz sorry

 

DogDay: Ok! Thank you!

 

Kicken: also grab ur welcome mat b4 it blows away

 

Kicken: it frickin wimdy!!!!

 

DogDay: Thanks K.C I'll be there soon!!!!!!

The relief is strong, and suddenly everything feels so ,much lighter.

 

Soon enough he's all jacketed up and rushing to the door.

 

As soon as he cracks it, it's nearly flung open by the high winds.

 

Day pulls his hood up before stepping outside, but it's blown off in seconds.

 

Quickly, he closes his door and starts to jog across the cul-de-sac.

 

About halfway there he looks to the right, catching movement out of the corner of his eyes.

 

CatNaps tower, a light on in the window, but no cat to be seen.

 

Aw. He just missed him.

 

But another pang of guilt flashes through him and he turns away.

Once he makes it to Kicken’s he wastes no time in knocking on the ratty wooden door.

 

A thump sounds from inside, followed by the sound of Kicken getting ever closer.

 

Kicken: Daaaa aaaAAAAAY!

 

The door swings open and DogDay is met with a fluffy yellow bird.

 

It looks like he just got out of the shower, his feathers soft and frazzled, the air emanating from inside indicative of warm steam.

 

His star shaped pupils flash as a bright smile spreads across his face.

 

As usual, Kicken looked casually and cool, like it was the easiest thing I'm the world to be so charismatic.

 

Kicken: Daymn Sam, you look like a fluffy wet basketball.

 

DogDay: Har har. You look like you just showered, but another one couldn't hurt!

 

Kicken: Oh no you don't!

 

But before Kicken could successfully hide behind his door, DogDay shook himself all over the place, splattering the door, the wall, and the bird with rainwater.

 

Before Day even got through the door, both critters were laughing.

Kick's shack may look a little scrappy from the outside, but inside was a whole different deal.

 

It was like a cozy wooden cabin in the middle of the forest, but as if it were renovated by… well… someone like Kicken.

 

The living room was simple enough; a long couch, coffee table, matching footrests and a warm orange LED set behind the TV that slowly warped its colors like a calming lake of lava.

 

Though his house looked like a shack, all the walls were insulated, keeping the storm outside to an even lower ambiance, mixing well with the “Chill LoFi Beats” Day had come to expect from Kicken's home.

 

It threw him off the second time he visited after he'd settled into owning a place of his own.

 

The chaos of construction almost felt like it fit the bird more, but that was only from an outside view.

 

Kicken may be chaotic, but he was also naturally confident, or at the very least, steadfast when that confidence waned.

 

His house hadn't really changed ever since he finished unpacking, only being added to and rarely cleaned up every now and then (Bubba despised how disorganized it could be sometimes.)

 

Regardless, that did make Kicken's living space a massive den of mixed genres, from skateboarder, to punk rock band, pop culture nerd, and anything in between.

 

Though one constant Kicken original was sitting on the dining table as always.

 

DogDay: Rocco!

 

Rocco: …

 

DogDay: How are you doing Rocco?

 

Rocco: …

 

DogDay: Fantastic, amazing to hear!

 

Rocco: …

 

DogDay: What was that? You want to tell me about the most embarrassing thing that happened to Kicken this recently?

 

Rocco: …

 

DogDay gasps in faux shock, whirling on the bird who was leaning up against the door to his room while he watched him speak to a pet rock.

 

Kicken: Hey, don’t listen to him. He's talking crazy!

 

DogDay: Please, Rocco's my best friend! He'd never lie to me!

 

Kicken: Pshhhh, didn't know CatNap had such heavy competition!

 

Kick could tell he made a mistake from Day's awkward laugh.

 

Stupid. Should have known better not to bring Nap up so soon after what happened between them.

 

Eager to mend the vibes, Kicken leans back against his bedroom doorknob and swoops inside, holding it open for Day..

 

Kicken: C'mon, let's relax.

 

DogDay: Y-Yeah. Sorry…

 

Day follows, kneading at his arm and clearly guilty for making Kick feel like he messed up.

 

Safe to say they were both a bit rusty when it came to hanging out with each other, which made Day feel a bit sad.

 

This would be so much more natural to them back in the day.

 

Before he could start to spiral though, Kicken threw a pillow at him.

 

An orange sun with fluffy dog ears.

 

It bonks off his snout, falling away to reveal Kicken sat back in one of his weird chairs.

 

The bungee-cord-net-thing.

 

As ever, he left the yellow beanbag for Day.

 

The dog plops down, vacantly staring at the Scott Pilgrim poster on the wall as Kicken scrolls through whatever is on his TV.

 

His eyes end up drifting to Kick's very chaotic and unmade bed before he realises something that makes him snort.

 

Kicken: Ey, what's that reaction for! Garfield bedsheets are cool as hell!

 

DogDay: Oh, sure, I remember exactly what you said when you bought those.

 

DogDay: “All the hot peeps loooove Garfield. They'll be all over me, like, oh Kicken your bed is so cool. Can I see moooore of it? ”

 

Day jabbed at the bird with his paw while he tried to keep himself from laughing.

 

He batted the dog's paw away in a feeble attempt to stop him from talking, but the embarrassing highschool memories are an unstoppable force.

 

Kicken: W-Well, Garfield is my hero and he will be raking in the cuties any minute now!

 

DogDay: I'm pretty sure all he'll be raking in is lasagna.

 

Kicken: Well hey, I'm Bi, I'll take anything!

 

Day snickers, but doesn't miss that new information.

 

Did Kicken tell him that before or something? It was a very casual coming out.

 

Maybe it's because of how unbothered Kick is when he speaks, but something about that really made Day's tail start wagging.

 

Kicken: Soooo what’s on the menu?

 

Kicken: Sleepy movie, music, somethin’ dumb we can laugh at?

 

Day: I don't know. What do you want?

 

Kicken: I still gotta bit of energy to kill. Heck, maybe that's why you can't sleep either. Are you even tired?

 

DogDay: Kinda? Maybe?

 

The bird makes a show of pondering what they should do, wing against his beak as he scans his room.

 

Kicken: Well, we can't do anything outside with that big freakin’ storm.

 

DogDay: Unless we wanna get a cold.

 

Kicken: Or struck by lightning, but that would probably fill you with more energy.

 

Dogday snickers until his brain once again drags him back to Nap.

 

It's really starting to frustrate him.

 

Like anytime he takes a step towards a good night it just puts him right back where he was.

 

He really needs something else to focus on.

 

Something louder than his brain, something Kicken can talk about for ages and Day could just listen to.

 

Something like…

 

Kicken picks up his electric guitar from the corner where it was racked.

 

Something like that, actually!

 

Kicken: Learned a new song, wanna hear? 

 

DogDay: Oh, sure!

 

Kicken can already see Days tail wagging as his ears perk up.

 

Goofy dog.

 

Day used to think it was so cool that Kicken learned to play guitar so fast.

 

That was back in middle school, and it inspired Crafty to start learning piano as well.

 

CatNap dabbled a bit with the violin Bubba got him for one of his birthdays, bringing the inevitable Critter band up to three members.

 

Day used to dream about how fun that would be, but he soon learned how bad he was at singing (or howling, which was what The Critters thought he was doing.)

 

The others did their best to reassure him that he was fine, and that he just needed to practice.

 

DogDay was far from the least creative member of The Critters, and if singing wasn't his thing, he could find something else.

 

Little did he know, he’d be digging up abandoned hobbies soon enough.

 

The bird sat down on his bed, plugging his guitar into his amp.

 

He quickly goes to turn it down as the feedback assaults their ears, but after a second of awkward silence and a guilty look from Kick, he starts to scroll his TV again.

 

Kicken: There's this new band that popped outta nowhere called Cheem.

 

DogDay: Like… the celebrity?

 

Kicken: I think? It's not a tribute band or anything. Cheems passed away after the band formed, but I think cheem also means something in, like… Singlish?

 

DogDay: What’s Singlish?

 

Kicken: Dunno. Musical English? Maybe whatever the hell Jack Black is singing during that one part in Tribute.

 

DogDay: I'm sure Singlish critters hear that “musical english” joke daily.

 

He dramatically shakes his head.

 

Kicken: Truly a tragic abuse of comedy.

 

Day’s laugh is cut short as Kicken perks up, finding just what he was looking for.

 

Kicken: Ah, here it is!

 

He plucks a few strings to test the volume as he starts, then quickly pauses the music video he’d pulled up.

 

Day tilts his head at the title.

 

DogDay: W T F U?

 

Kicken snorts, leaving Day even more curious as to what it means.

 

Kicken: Don't worry, it's topical!

 

DogDay: You just learned that word today didn't you!

 

Kicken: Bubba is a glorious fountain of knowledge, yes.

 

Kicken: Now silence! For I must now rock your face off.

 

DogDay: And that will help us use up energy?

 

Kicken: Energy is stored in the face, we all know this.

 

Smirk on his beak, Kicken presses play and readies himself on his six string, the sounds of the band themselves preparing alongside chanting emanating from the speakers.

 

— Now playing: Cheem - WTFU: https://youtu.be/7pTD0d_VmoA?si=X4Wuln5IZNI1ATRy —

 

It only takes moments for the song to hit turbo.

 

“Fr-Freak out, yo!”

 

The buildup is strong and Kick plays along with a big smile across his face, bobbing his head along to the hits as he plays alongside them.

 

“Wake the fuck up!!!”

 

A beat after that, the song kicks right into the chorus.

 

Day can't help but snicker at how on the nose Kicks choice of song was.

 

Maybe it was intentional, or maybe he really did just start learning this song, but either way DogDay is soon enraptured by it.

 

Kicken is just full of energy as he plays, bobbing and swaying as his wings dexterously fly across the neck of the guitar.

 

He's obviously practiced the song a lot and Day can clearly see the passion and joy he has for it.

 

It reminds him of back in the day when he'd really wanted to show off a skateboard trick, even if it took him a few rough attempts to get it.

 

Of all his friends Kicken was one of the most passionate, and Day couldn't get enough of that. It's why they're so close.

 

Were so close…

 

But before he could even start to spiral, the verse hits, and in his unadulterated enjoyment of the song, Kicken does something Day has never ever heard him do.

 

He starts to sing.

 

And he's… really good actually!

 

The melody of the verse was catchy enough, so much so that Day can hardly even focus on the words being said.

 

He's too stunned by how perfectly Kick matches them, even altering his key a bit to harmonize with the singer, which blows Day's mind even more.

 

It's such a simple idea that he's never heard anyone do, or even thought of himself, but Kicken is flawless.

 

Well, not really. He makes mistakes in the lyrics sometimes, and has trouble keeping tempo on the guitar while multitasking two melody's, but he doesn't even give those screw-ups a second thought.

 

He's doing nothing but having fun, and DogDay is too!

 

The second chorus arrives and now Day is tapping along with his paw, his tail wagging up a storm behind him.

 

Kicken meets his eyes with a devious smirk, and at the end of one of the bars sneaks the forbidden riff in, which makes them both break into laughter.

 

As the second bar of the chorus comes up, Kicken works to regain his composure and get ready to sing more, just for him to be caught off guard as Day starts to sing as well.

 

He's just as good as he used to be, and Kick is really happy to hear his voice like that again.

 

Still though, he keeps it going with the lower harmony, with Day on the melody he'd learned from the first chorus.

 

It all melts together, feeling as natural as breathing with not a thought unshared between them.

 

It could have been Kick’s infectious excitement or maybe just luck, but they both know what was really happening.

 

They’ve just known each other for so long that when they’re together, they’re always at their best without even realizing.

 

Just them and a sound system. Their own little venue where they're both the band and the audience, with nobody to impress.

 

The buildup to a drum breakdown gives way to half-time, Kicken getting lost again in the song as he strikes each chord with purpose.

 

The song ends as it began, power chords backed by hits that Kicken matches with equal vigor as when he started.

 

On the last note he slides his wing up the neck, ending the song in his own way, laughing out of breath with a big smile across his beak.

 

He must love doing that.

 

Kicken: Woooo!

 

He falls backwards onto his bed, his already fluffy feathers now more ruffled.

 

Kicken: Damn that's a fun song!

 

As he sits up, Day shakes him, finally feeling that energy burning away.

 

DogDay: You didn't tell me you could sing so well!!!

 

Kicken: I-I just kinda said words man!

 

DogDay: But you said them so cool!

 

Kicken: Pfft, Thanks dude. You did too, you know!

 

Suddenly embarrassed, Day remembers his own addition to the song as if it'd been wiped from his mind just as the song ended.

 

D-Did he sound ok? He thinks he tried hard enough, but- but maybe that’s just- 

 

Kicken: Man, I wish I recorded that ! Those harmonies were rad! I'll have to remember it if I ever make a proper cover.

 

Kicken: Better yet we can both make it together!

 

DogDay: Really?

 

Kicken: Yeah sure! It's an excuse to hang out if nothin’ else!

 

DogDay: Yeah.

 

His smile becomes more personal as he meets Day's eyes, two stars staring at each other from across the space.

 

They really aren't as far as they think they are in the grand scheme of things

 

Kicken: I… missed doing this y'know?

 

DogDay: Yeah. Me too.

 

With a content sigh, Kick puts his guitar back and flops back into his bungee seat.

 

Kicken: Hmmmm… I Don't feel like I'm going into a coma yet. Whaddya wanna do next?

 

DogDay: Uhhhh…

 

DogDay takes a second to peruse the room.

 

Stack of games, stack of movies, stack of clothes, food for Rocco…

 

Oh, there's an idea!

 

A good meal is a quick way to a relaxing sleep.

 

DogDay: Did you eat dinner?

 

Kicken: Doeeees half a leftover burger count?

 

Day tilts his head with a wry look at the rhetorical question.

 

Kicken: It was a good burger!!!

 

DogDay: How old was the burger?

 

Kicken: I had the first half for lunch!

 

DogDay: But how old?

 

Kicken: I… bought it yesterday. For dinner.

 

DogDay: Did you have breakfast!?

 

He looks away guiltily

 

Kicken: Don’t tell Picky…

 

Day grabs him by the wing, intent on dragging him right to the kitchen.

 

DogDay: I care too much about my friends to let you eat old burger and then more burger later!

 

Kicken: ...

 

DogDay: No, I won't tell Picky.

 

Kicken: Phew!

 

Kicken: I feel bad for her grandchildren. So much food, so little space…

 

Entering the fairly unused kitchen, Day walks over to the fridge.

 

It's nearly empty.

 

DogDay: Where’s all your food?

 

Kicken: Ate it.

 

DogDay: A whole fridge full of food!?

 

Kicken: I… may have had nothing but McCritters for dinner.

 

Kicken: For like… a month.

 

Sighing, Day spins around.

 

DogDay: That's it!

 

He picks the rooster up under the wings, holding him in his outstretched arms like a pet.

 

Kicken: Woah, hey!

 

Though Day couldn't see it, Kicken went bright red.

 

The dog brought him over to his couch before plopping him right down on it.

 

DogDay: You sit, choose movie.

 

DogDay: I’m go make dinner.

 

Kicken: C’mon, I wasn’t I supposed to be helping you?

 

DogDay: I’ll be fine when you get some decent food in you!

 

Kicken pokes a wing at DogDay’s side.

 

Kicken: Bobby, is that you in there? Bubba maybe?

 

DogDay: Nope! I'm the guardian angel of your stomach!

 

DogDay: Now movie! I food!

 

Kicken: Fiiiinuh…

 

As Day starts to walk back towards the kitchen, the rooster pipes up again.

 

Kicken: But this means I get to treat you to dinner one of these nights!

 

Kicken: It's the law of equivalent exchange!

 

DogDay: Ok, just not to McCritters!

 

Kicken: Who would take someone on a date to McCritters!?

 

A… A date?

 

Kick must be joking, right?

 

Day stands stunned around the corner, but it's been too long to say anything else.

 

It'd be awkward. Day doesn't want it to be awkward.

 

He doesn't even think he could begin to address that either if Kicken is being serious about it.

 

Wait wait, no.

 

This is Kicken he’s talking about. He's just kidding around.

 

Right?

 

As Day gets to work in the Kitchen, K.C stretches out across the couch.

 

Nothing can be heard but the dull clicks of the remote as he scrolls past movie after movie.

 

He’d already picked one by the time some very pleasant smells started to waft from the kitchen.

 

Right now though, he's just trying to distract himself.

 

Distract from the whirlwind in his head from what just inadvertently left his beak.

 

That's what letting his thoughts wander gets him.

 

Hopefully Day took it as a joke, and not the wishful fantasy it was to Kicken.

 

At 3:15 DogDay comes back in with two bowls, a plate of bread and a wave of delicious smells.

 

DogDay: Spaghetti.

 

Kicken: In real loife!

 

DogDay: And garlic bread too.

 

He passes him a slice and sets the plate down, making himself comfortable on the couch.

 

Kicken: Heh. Thanks Day.

 

To his surprise, Kicken is quick to lean against him, gently of course, and not so obtrusive that it gets in the way of their food.

 

It’s relaxing. Warm.

 

For Kicken, he barely noticed what he’d done, but when he did he was too embarrassed to sit back up.

 

For DogDay, it's been a while since they’ve just cuddled and watched a movie. He's missed this.

 

Cuddling IS normal friend behavior… right?

 

DogDay: Uh, so what movie did you pick out?

 

Kicken: Take your pick. Sharkboy and Lavagirl, Spy Cubs, Spy Cubs 2, Spy Cubs 3D, Sky High…

 

DogDay: Ooo! Sky High!

 

Kicken: Heck yeah! That movie sucked!

 

DogDay: In the best way! I remember how much we loved it as kids but I don't remember anything else about it.

 

Kicken: I'm sure it'll all come back to us as we laugh at the stupid writing.

After a moment to get ready, both of the critters are sat down, surrounded by pillows and warm with bowls of home cooked spaghetti.

 

As the movie goes on they fall back into the campy humor as if they never grew up.

 

Kicken: Pfft! That's so stupid!

 

DogDay: Whaaaat? You made that joke your whole thing after we watched this the first time!

 

DogDay: You even made it a special move when we fought villains back when we were kids!

 

DogDay: Side KICK!

 

Day leans back, poking his paw into the birds side as he laughs

 

Kicken: Hey, Hey!

 

DogDay: Side KICK! Side- oof!

 

Kicken gets him back and it quickly devolves into a chaotic tussle of flailing, snickering and sneaky jabs.

 

Kicken: I’ll show you a sidek-

 

But now he's the one being cut off, a DogDay shaped pillow colliding with the side of his head.

 

Kicken: Hey, that’s my thinking pillow! Where I store all my brain cells!

 

DogDay: Well, I’m honored, but your thinking pillow makes a good bludgeoning weapon.

 

Day swings again and Kicken intentionally takes it, dramatically falling back.

 

The dog tosses the pillow at his fallen foe, who's now completely and utterly defeated.

 

DogDay: Yes! I Win!

 

Kicken: Mhm, good for you, but now I’m all comfortable.

 

He snuggles into the mound of pillows he fell against and yoinks away the blanket from under Day.

 

Kicken: Who's the winner now!

 

DogDay: Hey! Didn't you agree to help me get some sleep?

 

Kicken: What, are you not tuckered out after The Great Pillow War of the Valley?

 

DogDay: Nnnno!

 

Without thinking much about it, Day flops over on the couch, basically falling next to Kicken into the comfortable nest of pillows he’d made.

 

A beat passes and something seems to… shift.

 

Kicken just stares at Day, gently lit by the TV with a strange look.

 

Not anything bad, but to Day he looks… confounded? Enraptured?

 

Another big word that would better describe it, but to Day all he could think about was the way Kicken looked at him when they first met.

 

When Kicken saw his eyes and thought they looked cool.

 

Day really appreciated that he’d thought that.

 

He really appreciated that they became such close friends.

 

He appreciated that despite how late It was, Kicken was still willing to take him in and have fun for a night.

 

So they both stared at each other in that moment, the sound of the TV just a faint, almost meaningless noise.

 

Kicken seems to break the trance first, shuffling around as they both lay on their sides.

 

Kicken: Hey, uh, Dogday?

 

DogDay: Yeah?

 

Kicken: I… this is nice right?

 

DogDay: Yeah, it is.

 

Kicken: Heh, cool yeah… good.

 

Kicken: You’re… you uh… look…

 

He seems to struggle to get the thought out, and Day can't tell if the warm hue to his face is from the TV lighting up the comfy darkness around them, or If Kicken was actually blushing.

 

Kicken: You know you're like my best friend right?

 

DogDay: Yeah? I mean, we used to be. But we found Catnap and then Hoppy…

 

DogDay: Am I still really-..?

 

Kicken smiles a little bittersweetly. 

 

Kicken: Hoppy's cool, and CatNap…

 

He pauses, knowing how tender the topic is.

 

Kicken: CatNap is good for you. For all of us y'know?

 

Kicken: But Hoppy's more like a sister than a best friend. You're still at the top Day.

 

Stunned, the dog feels a pang of guilt.

 

DogDay: I’m… I'm sorry we don't hang out much anymore…

 

He looks away, almost ashamed, but Kicken is having none of it.

 

Kicken: It's ok. We still have time, dude.

 

Kicken: And… we’re hanging out now.

 

DogDay: Yeah… It just felt like I missed so much time where we could have done stuff together.

 

Day looks away, laying on his back as he struggles with the thoughts that had been assaulting him all night.

 

He can't even have fun without thinking about how much fun he could have had if it just wasn't so-

 

Kicken: Well then tonight we can do it all.

 

Day looks back, surprised, and unsure of what he means.

 

Kicken: Us going to college… that's not gonna change anything, but if it really feels like we’ve missed out, then… let's do it all tonight!

 

Kicken: Anything you want, everything you could think of! We were struggling to get to sleep anyway, so let's just make use of the night!

 

His smile. It was the one thing DogDay could see at that moment.

 

Confidence, assuredness…

 

Enthralling.

 

DogDay: Yeah. Yeah!

 

A warmth returned. A powerful buzz in his chest that he hadn't felt so viscerally since elementary school.

 

That feeling where right now was the only moment that exists.

Another hour and a half passed, not that the two even noticed.

 

They finished the crappy movie and their food, played two rounds of a card game, started practicing throwing the cards like a ninja star until Kicken somehow got one stuck in his wall, and then they started doing karaoke. 

 

It took a bit of convincing, but two songs in, Day was swaying to the beat of a melody he barely remembered, flubbing lyrics and laughing all the while.

 

Kicken felt it again, this feeling rocketing through him which he’d been struggling with since DogDay stepped through his door, or maybe even longer.

 

He pushed it aside, or more accurately ignored it.

 

Fun, fun, just have fun.

 

Just have fun. Just have -

 

And then Day took his wing.

 

Pulling himself together, he tried to dance along, but that bright face in front of him kept pulling that feeling back, stunning him In place like a deer in headlights.

 

Day was basically dragging him through the dance, not that the canine even noticed.

 

They just moved and swayed until Day spun off, gently falling onto the couch while Kicken's heart tried to beat right out of his chest.

 

There was no ignoring it.

 

He knew for years that it would come back one day like a bolt of lightning waiting for just the right storm, just the right moment.

 

Kicken had a crush on DogDay, and had for a long, long time.

 

And now it was literally all he could think about.

 

DogDay: Phew… another?

 

Kicken: Wh- o-oh yeah, totally, if you wanna!

 

DogDay: Hey…

 

As Kick looked away, Day gently set a paw on his wing, drawing his gaze right back.

 

He looked concerned, but smiled anyway.

 

DogDay: You ok?

 

Kicken: Oh, absolutely. I-I mean yeah, totally dude! I'm great!

 

DogDay: Well, your beak's clicking.

 

Kicken: What!? Damnit! You pointy traitor!

 

He points an accusatory wing at his face and Day chuckles before patting the couch.

 

DogDay: C'mon, your therapy dog is here. Let it all out!

 

Kicken slumped down next to Day, tense, with a worried grin on his beak.

 

DogDay: You know me, I won't bite.

 

DogDay: I wanna help with whatever’s got you all tense.

 

DogDay: Is it… me?

 

Kicken: No no no, you're fine! You're amazing, I just…

 

Day patiently smiles, patting his lap.

 

With a blush, Kick lays his head down, looking up at Day.

 

The sight is… a lot, so he looks away to the side.

 

And they both kinda just… sit there.

 

DogDay: Soooo…

 

Kicken: I'm good. You’re good?

 

DogDay: Yeah?

 

Kicken: Great, meeting adjourned!

 

He sits right back up with a start, but Day isn't having it.

 

DogDay: Wait just a moment mister!

 

He puts a paw on the rooster's shoulder who weasels away quick.

 

Just then, Day catches his wing and pulls him into a hug.

 

Kicken: H-Hey! Lemme go!

 

DogDay: Nuh uh! It's emotions time, lemme help!

 

Kicken: Pfft, Hugs and emotions are Bobby’s thing, imma tell on you!

 

Dogday: Tell on me? For what!?

 

Kicken: For plagiarism!

 

DogDay: Says the bird who copied my work back in school!

 

Kicken: But you made it so easy!

 

DogDay: Because you’re my best friend, and best friends help each other out!

 

Kicken slips out below Day's grasp.

 

DogDay: Just-

 

Day swoops down and latches to Kick’s legs.

 

DogDay: -Like…

 

He reaches a paw up, nabbing his wing, and then… 

 

Dog: -THIS!

 

Day pulls back, Kicken tumbling over the dog, who deftly rolls them both over on the ground until Day is positioned atop a stunned looking bird, paws to the sides of his head, trapping him from looking anywhere but DogDay.

 

His victorious expression melts into a soft smile and puppydog eyes

 

DogDay: Lemme help K.C. I wanna help you…

 

Kicken's chest was tight as a warm, powerful feeling went rushing through him at a speed that always carries him to dumb decisions.

 

Dumb decisions that he’s known to take.

 

And at that moment an intrusive thought wormed its way into Kick’s mind.

 

Do it. Do iiiit!

 

Just-...

 

For a millisecond Day had to just blink, confused why everything felt so warm all of the sudden.

 

Why all he could see for a moment was yellow feathers, and why his heart just skipped a beat.

 

But after it happened Kicken quickly pulled back, looking even more surprised than DogDay was.

 

Every neuron in his brain was screaming at him to realise what just happened, and after a full second it hit him like a brick through a window.

 

Kicken just… kissed him!

 

Like on the mouth and stuff !

 

He sat back, the bird basically frozen in time aside from his eyes which darted everywhere but Day.

 

Maybe looking for an escape from the situation he just put himself in. 

 

Maybe just out of embarrassment, or worry about the dog's reaction.

 

Day knew Kicken was prone to irresponsible moves, but this was a whole new level.

 

But little devil appeared on Day's shoulder, just like in the cartoons.

 

He should take responsibility for what he just did to you, shouldn't he? >:3

 

The dog's eyes darted to his left, expecting to see an angel, but found the angel on his right shoulder as well.

 

Do it! =^w^=

 

A mischievous grin spread on both the little winged dogs faces that mirrored right back on Day's. 

 

If Kick wanted to go all in, then better be ready for a taste of his own medicine!

 

He leant forward and pressed his muzzle right back up against Kicken’s beak.

 

Day felt the bird jolt, his breath leaving him in shock, but soon enough they were both completely gone.

 

The kiss was long. Surprisingly to both of them, Day was the first to suggest tongue and Kicken was the first to push deeper

 

Neither of them found themselves wanting to let up.

 

It was new, and strange, and it felt so oddly exhilarating that neither could think straight.

 

Kicken had always had a crush, but never thought about what a kiss with DogDay would even be like.

 

Day had always cared so much about everyone that the concept of kissing hadn’t even crossed his mind in ages.

 

But this was so much more than either of them ever would have expected.

 

Kitchens wings found their way to Day’s face, caressing up under and around his fluffy ears.

 

Day could feel his tail wagging in sync with his rapidly beating heart.

 

He leaned in more, onto his elbows, his paws finding the freshly showered feathers atop Kicken's head as the dog basically engulfed him entirely right there on the carpeted floor.

 

The kiss went on for maybe a minute more before both critters were gasping for air.

 

Day lay atop Kicken with his snout buried in the crook of the bird's neck.

 

Experimentally, Kicken went from petting Day, to slowly dragging his wings down his back.

 

DogDay sighed out, feeling his tail wag faster as he got closer and closer to it until…

 

Kick hovered his wings above his butt.

 

And both held their breath, waiting for the other to make the first move. To relieve the tension from where they both know this was going.

 

Gently, Kick lowered his wing, and it made contact with a soft cheek.

 

Kicken: H-Hey so…

 

DogDay: Can you show me your room again?

 

Kicken felt his breath catch in his chest, the dog looking at him with a mischevious grin.

 

DogDay: I think your bed’s cool. I wanna see more of it.

They almost didn't make it to the room before they were kissing again.

 

Neither of them even knew who started it at that point, and it was a clumsy scuffle to get closer and closer towards the bed.

 

Day hugged Kicken close as they both fell backwards into the soft mattress.

 

Kicken's feathered wing tightened around Day's paws, intertwining as he moved to kiss him again.

 

He let it happen and soon enough they were back to exploring each other.

 

Kicken clumsily took his other wing right under Day's jacket and started to caress his belly, making the dog pull back and giggle. 

 

DogDay: H-Hey, hey- Weakspot! You know-

 

Cutting him off, Kick started to rub with both his wings, leaning back to push his jacket up before pecking a few kisses on his belly, his beak nipping gently at the dog’s soft fur

 

DogDay: You- You cheater!

 

But the bird just nuzzled into his belly like it was a pillow.

 

Kicken: You’re too soft! I gotta!

 

DogDay: Well then I gotta do… this!

 

Suddenly, Day slid down, taking Kick under his wings and flipping them both over, back to the way they were when they first kissed.

 

DogDay: Don't think I don't see how this made you feel the first time!

 

Kicken: I-I…

 

The dog grinned, the answer being as plain as day.

 

But he still wanted to hear him say it.

 

DogDay: C’mon Kick. I'm your therapy dog, you can talk to me.

 

DogDay: It's emotions time, soooo… what are you feeling?~

 

He leaned in, laying down comfortably atop the bird, their hearts beating against one another as Day snuck a paw under Kicken’s beak, gently nudging him to look with those bright starry eyes of his. 

 

Kicken: G-Good.

 

DogDay: Yeah?~

 

Kicken: Really good, yeah!

 

Day almost didn't know what had come over himself, and Kicken didn't either.

 

Sure DogDay was the leader, but him taking charge like this was… was…

 

Kicken can't help but shiver a bit.

 

Kicken: Do you… is this good for you too?

 

The question seemed to snap Day out of this sudden bout of second hand euphoria from how much he enjoyed making Kicken happy.

 

He almost didn't properly consider it, but the answer would have been the same either way.

 

DogDay: Yeah.

 

Until the situation started to flood back into him like a bucket of ice water.

 

DogDay: Sorry d-did I go too far? I didn't- didn't mean-

 

Kicken: Dude, dude! Hey, It's ok!

 

He put a wing around the dog, pulling him into an all too familiar position.

 

The way they slept together anytime DogDay couldn't do it himself.

 

Tangled up with one another, as close as possible.

 

So Day knew he was anything but alone no matter how deep he slept.

 

Kicken: I like this.

 

DogDay: I do too. W-What is it though?

 

The bird half heartedly laughs.

 

Kicken: I thought you were the emotions guy?

 

DogDay: I know. Just…

 

Kicken: …

 

Kicken: Stupid question, but… fuck this is a bad idea…

 

DogDay gently whined at Kicken’s doubt, urging him to ask.

 

To be brave and just go for it.

 

Kicken: Do you… still want to go out with CatNap?

 

Kicken: I-I know things are rough with you two right now, and you may think it’s never gonna happen, but I see how you look at him dude.

 

Kicken: I don't want to ruin that…

 

DogDay: I… I don't think it's gonna happen Kicken…

 

Another whine emits from the dog, one tinged with a sorrow that weighs heavy in the air.

 

DogDay: I care about him so much, but it's like, like… If I keep caring it just hurts him. I don't know what to do, but everything I try just pushes him away.

 

DogDay: I gave up the idea a while ago… Of having a chance to get with him.

 

Kicken: N-No, c'mon man, you-

 

DogDay: No Kicken . You don't understand.

 

DogDay: I have to let this go. 

 

DogDay: However he's suffering, I need to help just as a friend.

 

DogDay: I can't get mixed up with feelings while he's in so much pain.

 

Kicken: But after..?

 

DogDay: No… no…

 

He squeezes Kicken tighter.

 

DogDay: It's not gonna work K.C.

 

DogDay: But this..? I like this.

 

DogDay: I like you.

 

Kicken: I like you too, y'know.

 

DogDay: I… noticed, hehe.

 

Kicken: How'd you tell?

 

DogDay: We've known each other for nearly 20 years.

 

Kicken: Aaaand?

 

DogDay snickers.

 

With the mood lightened, and the lingering tension cleared, only one question remained.

 

Kicken: Almost 20 years since we met…

 

DogDay: …

 

Kicken: Can I… know more? About you?

 

A fire rose in his chest at that, escaping his mouth in a gente but nervous breath.

 

DogDay: Yeah. Anything.

 

Kicken: Do you wanna…

 

DogDay: Yeah.

 

Slowly, Day unraveled from Kick until they were both lain flat next to each other.

 

Neither looked each other in the eyes, but every now and then a paw would brush a wing, a wing would nudge a paw.

 

Until they were holding hands.

 

Now that neither had a foothold to tease or push the other further, it was suddenly unlike any interaction they'd ever had with one another.

 

Neither of them knew what they were doing, but they knew they were both trying their best.

 

Kicken: So… what kinda… stuff do you like?

 

DogDay: I uh…

 

He sighed, looking away even though neither were looking at anything but the ceiling to save themselves from the embarrassment.

 

DogDay: P-Praise. I wanna know I'm making someone happy.

 

DogDay: That- That makes me feel nice.

 

DogDay: What about you?

 

Kicken: I uh… hehe, kinda really like how you were earlier.

 

DogDay: O-Oh. I don't really know what that was. Maybe I can try again if…

 

Kicken: Don't force it if you don't wanna, just… go with flow.

 

DogDay: Ok…

 

Finally, they meet eyes again, a pair of stars and a pair of suns.

 

The same, but different.

 

Both equally as bright, but equally as unsure.

 

For a moment, they both swap between looking at one another, getting flustered and looking away before going right back to each other.

 

Kicken: …

 

Kicken: We're… both bottoms aren't we.

 

DogDay: K-Kicken!

 

Day shot up, staring at the rooster with a blush.

 

Kicken: Pfft, we are! We totally are!!!

 

DogDay: Hey, I can be dominant sometimes!

 

Kicken: Yeah, if you wanna!

 

Kicken: So c'mon then, dominate me big boy!

 

He leaned back, stretching out and presenting himself daintily, like a well cooked meal.

 

DogDay: I-I…

 

Kicken flipped over, wagging his tailfeathers in the dog's direction which only made it harder for him as he covered his eyes with his big floppy ears.

 

Kicken: C'mon DogDay, order me around! You got this, I believe in you, my butt believes in you!

 

He wiggles his tail more, as DogDay struggles to fight off laughter, embarrassment, and the growing understanding that he couldn't be dominant if he even tried.

 

DogDay: F-Fine!!! T-Take off your… c-clothes…

 

Kicken stared back with a grin.

 

DogDay: Please?

 

Sighing, Kicken leaned forward, rising to his knees before taking Day's snout gently with his wing.

 

Kicken: Sit.

 

Stunned, DogDay went from kneeling above Kicken, to sitting, now eye to eye with the bird and his smug grin.

 

Kicken: Good boy.

 

The way DogDay’s tail rapped against the pillows behind him made Kicken have to resist teasing him over it.

 

Kicken: How about we both take our clothes off ok? Together.

 

Now having control, Kicken wrapped his legs around Day, pulling him close into a hug.

 

Day went to kiss him, hesitating for only a second, waiting for Kick to confirm.

 

He kissed back, feeling Day jolt as his wings reached under his jacket once again.

 

Slowly, he pulled it up, and once they separated, he took the jacket off his head, his ears flopping down on exit.

 

The whole scene was too much for Kicken now, his newfound composure quickly crumbling at the sight of this dopey dog.

 

A shirtless Day, fluffy as all get-out with a stunned, blushing expression and a ditzy looking blep as his tongue lulls out from the kiss.

 

Kicken: N-Now you…

 

Day crawled forward carefully, gently taking his paws to Kicken's jacket before sliding it from his shoulders.

 

Next was the shirt, and it took a lot of effort on Kicken’s part not to look away as DogDay pulled it up and over his head, his breath gently caressing the soft feathers underneath.

 

Intentionally or not, Day's paws found their way to Kicken’s head, his feathers gently rustling as a paw was drug through them, the claws carefully scratching at his scalp.

 

Kicken snickered at the idea of being pet by a dog but it did feel good.

 

Though he knew he was still the best.

 

Kick gently wrapped his arms around Day's shoulders, pulling him closer until he began petting the dog in kind.

 

It didn't take long for Day to give that cute, far away look Kicken loved so much.

 

Half closed eyes, tongue lulled out and a look of pure ecstasy.

 

Day always got embarrassed about it for some reason.

 

A reason Kicken couldn't quite remember.

 

oh… yeah…

 

Looking down, Kick was greeted with the same reason he hadn't tried to pet DogDay for years.

 

Cause it makes him hard.

 

DogDay: K-Kick, I-I-!

 

Oops, uhhhh…

 

Fuck It!

 

In a bid to curb the embarrassment, Kicken launched forward and started making out with him.

 

Day squeaked and it only got more intense when Kicken brought his wing down to Day's crotch.

 

He didn't get a good look from how close they were, but Day feels-

 

Oop-!

 

It twitched!

 

Oh my God, oh my God he's twitching and I’m holding his, his-...!!!

 

A questioning gasp came from DogDay, who was worried why Kicken had stopped, but as the bird leaned back, just a thin line of saliva connecting the two, he found the bird staring wide-eyed at his dick.

 

Kicken: H-Holy shit DogDay…

 

But Day was busy staring at a cock of his own, as Kicken’s slowly poked out of its own sheath and soon enough its owner noticed.

 

Flustered, Kicken goes to mutter something, but gets cut off by another quiver from Day, or… or was that..?

 

Kicken gives a surprised chirp when DogDay starts to thrust into his wing, having given up all the dramatics for the sake of how amazingly soft those feathers felt.

 

As if completely devoid of control, Day whined out an apology, still thrusting into Kicken’s feathers like a dog in heat.

 

DogDay: K-K-Kicken… s-sorry, I - mmf!

 

Suddenly, Kick shuffled forward, leant over and pressed their cocks together with a wing, beginning to thrust with Day.

 

Now they were both shuddering, throbbing, leaking onto each other as they erotically press their lengths against one another.

 

Days' head had long since been thrown back in ecstasy, but when he came back up he found Kicken still staring at their display as if transfixed.

 

DogDay: Am I… D-Does this feel good?

 

Kicken: Yeah, you feel fantastic Day…

 

Kicken: G-Good boy?

 

He says it like a question, as if not sure this was the right time to say it, but he soon learns that literally any time would be a good time to praise DogDay

 

Especially when they're both hard.

 

The words alone made DogDay whine, and Kick was worried for a reason he couldn't quite question before Day started to eagerly thrust back twice as hard.

 

It pushed Kick backwards into bed and Day just kept going as Kicken lay there, scrambling to find his way around Day's cock again

 

What he found after misjudging just how close it was to him, was the knot, now free from the canine's sheath and lewdly smushed against his own feathers.

 

He felt a throb and all he could think about is what it would be like to have Day pin him down and push it inside him.

 

Thankfully, Kicken now knew DogDay’s favorite words.

 

Ones that seemed to make him act just as lust drunk as Kick felt.

 

Kicken: Good boy, good boy DogDay!

 

The dog whined out in a huff and thrusted harder.

 

Kicken: Yea, let it go boy, just do what feels good.

 

Kicken: God you feel so good…

 

Kick squeezed a little tighter around his knot before quickly flipping himself over, presenting his ass up for Day to gawk down at in surprise.

 

Of all things he was expecting to do in his life, bottoming for Day surprisingly wasn't one of them.

 

But after seeing that knot, and more importantly, seeing that look in Day's eyes while he lost himself to a haze of lust…

 

He can't help but want Day to take him and do whatever he needs to in order to be satisfied..

 

Cause if anyone deserves to look that horny every now and then, It's the Critter who's worked so hard to make everyone else happy.

 

Now it's time for Kick to help him back, so he raises his butt up and presses it against Day's cock feeling that knot press between his ass.

 

Kicken: C'mon boy, you can hump me, I want it!

 

He jumps, almost squawking as two paws come down on his cheeks a little rougher than they intend to.

 

At this point, DogDay can't help himself.

 

Kicken is beyond smooth, and he smells so fresh and- and looks so… so…

 

With his cock throbbing and twitching between the bird's asscheeks, you'd expect it to happen right then and there, but Day still had enough wherewithal to understand that he needed to do something first.

 

But he didn't want to wait any more than he had to, so he buried his snout between Kicken's butt, feeling the bird shudder as he drags his tongue against Kick’s hole.

 

Kicken: Ahh! D-Dogdaywhadrryuhmmmmff~...

 

He melts as he feels the dog's big wet tongue press against his insides.

 

It feels like heaven, which would make Kick even more excited for the rest if he wasn't already content to just lay there letting Day use him like this forever.

 

One last slobbery lick all the way up, and Kick is completely at Day's disposal, the canine humping the soft spot between his hole and tail as he drug his paws through its soft feathers.

 

Kicken: Mmmm DogDayyyyy~

 

Kicken: That was…

 

A thick thwap echoes the room as he feels that throbbing cock once again meet his now lubed behind.

 

DogDay: K-Kicken?

 

Kicken: Yea…?

 

The dog leans in almost whining into Kicken's ear with a hot huff of breath.

 

DogDay: I- I need to Kick I-

 

Kicken: C’mon, give it to me Day. Be a good boy and gimme that b-

 

He gets cut off by a sound he barely registers as coming out of his beak.

 

A dull feeling gets quickly overshadowed by the wave of lust that rockets through him, leaving his tongue pressed against the bed as Day- a-as DogDay…

 

DogDay is… is fucking him!!!

 

He’s getting fucked by his best friend!

 

The canine is notably trying to hold himself back but the lust is starting to get the better of him, making him only thrust faster and wilder.

 

Between moans Kicken can feel more and more of the dog's cock press deeper into him.

 

The feeling is incredible and it has him mumbling incoherently to Day, trying and failing to praise him for just how good it feels.

 

Out of the garbled mess, Day hears Kick keep repeating his name.

 

Kicken: Ohgodohfuck Day, g-good boy DogDay harder~ harderplease~

 

He's doing good! He's doing so, so good and it only makes him thrust harder!

 

He wants to please Kicken, he wants to make him cum!

 

And past all that, a primal thing inside him desperately, desperately NEEDS to cum inside Kicken.

 

Kicken: Oh, fuckohfuck Day fuck me, fuck me please!!!

 

That huffy growling noise sets Kick's senses on fire and it makes him insanely hard hearing DogDay get so feral over him!

 

He wants the dog to ravage him, he wants him to use him like a ragdoll until he's popping out eggs, he-

 

!!

 

Did… did Day just bite him!?

 

It was gentle on the neck, but still a little rough as Day tried to hold back as much as he could.

 

However, that overwhelming urge to mark Kicken shot through him like fire as he got deeper and deeper.

 

The entire time Kicken had been feeling that thick throbbing knot tease his hole with every thrust, only getting further and further into him when Day threw himself atop the bird to bite down into his shoulder and fuck him hard into the bed.

 

It was happening, and it was happening soon.

 

So soon Kicken wasn't sure if he could handle it, but he wanted it.

 

God, he wanted it so, so bad!

 

Growling now with each thrust, Day pounded into Kicken hard and fast, as if any time apart would mean an end to this carnal bliss they were feeling.

 

Kicken’s moaning had unintentionally been tuned out, but a couple words lit up in Day's brain like a lighthouse.

 

“T-The knot-”

 

He pulled back, still thrusting, but looking down at Kick who was a mess pressed into the bed looking back behind him in a daze.

 

DogDay: W-Wha?

 

Kicken: Knot me DogDay… I want you to knot me like I'm yours~

 

Mine?

 

He wants…

 

Leaning forward, the bird chirps out an unflattering moan as he's filled right back up with the dog's thick cock, the knot pressing longingly against his ass, demanding entry.

 

His paws and arms wrapped tight around Kick's midsection, DogDay huffing hot and snarly breaths as he pounds into Kicken’s ass.

 

His thrusts are short and heavy, pushing and pushing against Kicken’s hole until-

 

!!!

 

Kicken: Ohfuckyes-!!!

 

A slick, wet, popping noise and a full, unbridled rush of everything all at once.

 

Moaning, growls, a release of pressure and an overwhelming rush of lust.

 

Safe to say, Kicken completely drenched the sheets in ropes of cum, as DogDay bit down right where he had before as that thick knot forced its way in.

 

The feeling was thick and hot, but what came next was a shuddering throb and the feeling of something warm starting to flow into him.

 

And it just kept going!

 

With every throb came another warm wave of cum, as more and more space inside was filled, if not by DogDays thick load, then by his knot, expanding to lock the two together until it was sure Kicken was full.

 

Kicken: DogDay- DogDay, you just-...

 

The dog was barely even there, slobbering over Kicken as his body pumped the bird's ass with semen completely of its own accord.

 

Kicken: G-Good boy DogDay. Good boy. Just- just lay back and breed me.

 

From the dog's mumbles and whimpering moans, he caught his name.

 

DogDay: K-Kicken I-... I… the knot it…

 

Kicken: Day, you did so good. I promise. You were amazing pup~

 

He almost catches himself, but he can feel Day's tail wagging.

 

Kicken: You like that DogDay? Being my good little puppy- woahnnff~!

 

Day thrust a little more, his knot tugging at Kick’s tight, undoubtedly no-longer-virgin hole.

 

Kicken: S-Shit, that feels really, really good Day, b-but you gotta lay down.

 

Following Kicken's command, he lays back down, making the bird sigh out as the cock is pushed right back in.

 

DogDay: Are you ok?

 

Kicken: O-Ok!? DogDay, you just banged me! We just screwed!!!

 

DogDay: S-So g-good?

 

Kicken: Oh, you big goofy dog, so much more than good!!!

 

Smiling, he gently scratches behind Day’s ear.

 

Kicken: This was- this was everything I could have wanted Day.

 

Kicken: You were amazing.

 

DogDay: Kicken please, you were too.

 

DogDay: I- I couldn't handle it!

 

DogDay: Y-You were just so… c-cool..?

 

Kicken snickers, and it quickly turns into laughter.

 

Kicken: Pfft, haha- Cool!? DogDay, are you too embarrassed to say “hot!?”

 

DogDay: No! I-I mean, you were, but-

 

Kicken: I was what~?

 

Kicken couldn't see it, but he knew Day was blushing.

 

Knot deep in his ass, and this goofball gets flustered by calling him hot.

 

Kicken: C’mon Day, you were too.

 

DogDay: R-Really?

 

Kicken: Yes dude! The growling, the biting, you want feral on my ass!

 

Kicken: You. Were. Hot! You were so hot, and I love seeing you that sexy!

 

A mischievous grin crosses his face when he hears Day's response caught in his maw.

 

He does too, of course.

 

Kicken: But only, if you can say it back.

 

DogDays whine does nothing to dissuade him.

 

Kicken: C'mon boy, you can do it~.

 

He wiggles his butt, knowing full well it's still tight and sensitive as his knot tugs to and fro inside him.

 

It gets DogDay panting. Kick has him right where he wants.

 

DogDay: You’re hot Kicken…

 

The way he says it throws him off.

 

It's not addled with lust or anything stubby or lewd.

 

It was more like a confession.  

 

Kicken: R-Really?

 

DogDay: Yes, yes you're hot!

 

DogDay: I-I try not to think about it cause we were just friends, but looking at you playing sports with Hoppy, or showing off some cool trick, that- that confidence doesn't just- d-dousn't…

 

DogDay: Everything you do gets me excited. Excited in so many different ways, I…

 

Kicken: I… I really appreciate that you think that dude, I…

 

Losing the words, he just keeps petting Day, the dog nuzzling into his shoulder as thanks.

 

DogDay: It's hard not to. I see you so often and I've known you so long that seeing you just get better and better at everything you do, it's…

 

DogDay: It's… really cool. You're really cool.  

 

If Kicken wasn't warm enough, he sure was now.

 

He's always loved that genuine excitement from DogDay, but knowing it's directed at him is…

 

Well, he suddenly has another bad idea.

 

Kicken: Day?

 

DogDay: Yeah?

 

Kicken: I know we're kinda… stuck right now and stuff, but…

 

Kicken: We've known each other for years now, and there's still more stuff to learn and stuff, but- but…

 

Kicken: I… I can't word this right, damnit.

 

DogDay: It's ok you don't have to say anything.

 

Kicken: I want to though! I can't keep this in any longer Day, I-...

 

He hesitates, as if all the air is suddenly sucked out of the room.

 

They both know where this is going, but neither know what's going to happen after.

 

Kicken: DogDay… I love you.

 

Kicken: I think I have for a long time, but it's… it's a lot now. I had to say it.

 

The second after Kicken sees a whirlwind of emotion let loose behind Day's eyes.

 

He doesn't know if he ruined the mood or what but he hopes to all that has kept him alive that DogDay says yes.

 

DogDay: Wow you're… you’re braver than I am, that's for sure.

 

Kicken: Huh?

 

He… definitely didn't expect that reaction.

 

The dog sighs, burying his face in Kicken’s neck.

 

DogDay: I thought… well, I guess I didn't know until now but…

 

DogDay: I didn't think I'd get to say it to you. But once again you just… go for it.

 

DogDay: It makes me want to go for it as well. As long as I'm with you.

 

What does that..?

 

Kicken: Day… DogDay..?

 

Day can feel Kicks heartbeat skyrocket.

 

DogDay: I love you too. I really really do…

 

Day can feel a shudder, but no response for more than a few seconds.

 

He pulls back in worry, tugging uncomfortably on himself, but he's too worried that somehow he-

 

Looking back at him is yellow, tear stained feathers.

 

DogDay: N-No, D-Don’t cry Kick, you'll make me-

 

But he can't even get it out.

 

Kicken's crying was quiet. Nothing but a shudder, but as soon as Day started to tear up as well, it was all over.

 

Kicken: Day-D-Day, I l-love you so much, you're e-everything to m-me-

 

DogDay: Me too Kicken, I wouldn't even- wouldn't even be h- agh…

 

DogDay: I'm sorry, it's just s-so much

 

Kicken: I know, I know…

 

Kicken: I’m here for you.

 

DogDay: Me too…

It takes a bit for them to calm down, but they just hug each other tight, buried in one another's arms until the sobbing and whimpering quieted down.

 

Both are thankfully soft enough to start moving, so Day gets his bird's attention.

 

DogDay: I-I should probably try and move now, right?

 

Kicken: Yeah, go ahead.

 

DogDay: Tell me if… if it starts to hurt.

 

Kicken: I'll be ok pup, I promise.

 

The blush on Day's face lets Kick know how that makes him feel, so Kicken just smiles back knowingly before bracing himself.

 

Slowly, DogDay tests the knot, pulling and tugging causing Kicken to squirm and hold in moans.

 

Even soft, Day’s big when all bunched up like this.

 

He uh… really likes that.

 

Day tugs and the knot starts to slip so he increases the pressure.

 

Kicken tries his best to breathe evenly, but a stray tug catches him off guard, and he lets out a chirpy little moan that makes Day shuffle worryingly.

 

Kicken: K-Keep it coming, DogDay.

 

It all comes to a head when… shli-pop!

 

DogDays knot pops out of the rooster's hole, with the rest of his dick is quick succession. 

 

Kicken: Awhgawdfuckyeahhhh~...

 

DogDay watches as cum leaks from Kicken’s ass

 

It makes it harder to believe it was somehow all his.

 

Kicken: Heheh so uh… we're boyfriends now?

 

The random comment makes Day giggle so much that he leans forward and starts trying to kiss Kicken, which he misses a few times in his loopy state.

 

DogDay: Yep! You're my boyfriend, and I'm yours!

 

Kicken: Heh, sounds good pup.

 

Kicken: One more time though, because I want to, and I like how it feels…

 

Kicken: I love you DogDay.

 

DogDay: I love you too Kick.

 

Kicken: And uh…

 

Dogday: Yeah?

 

Kicken: Can we do this again sometime soon?

 

Dogday: Y-You mean like…

 

Kicken: No- well, you were AMAZING in bed, of course I wanna have sex again, but I mean…

 

Kicken: Just… this. I want to hang out more often. Like we used to.

 

Kicken: I missed this. All of it.

 

DogDay: Of course. Any night you want.

 

DogDay: Or any day, just anytime at all!

 

DogDay: I’ll spend as much time with you as you want.

 

Kick hugged him, and he hugged back.

 

The dog let out a dopey whiney yawn that Kicken snickered at before suffering one himself.

 

Kicken: Finally tired pup?

 

DogDay: Yeah.

 

DogDay: I kinda don’t wanna go to bed now.

 

Kicken: It’s ok. I’ll be here with you the whole night.

 

Kicken: And the first thing I’ll do when we wake up is give you a big ol’ kiss.

 

DogDay gave a light little laugh that made Kicken's heart warm.

 

Kicken: ‘Night DogDay.

 

DogDay: Goodnight K.C…

It’s been about a year since then.

 

The Critters have all piled into the back of Bubba’s van again, and are on their way back to the valley after a year of collage together.

 

Save for one single critter…

 

Hoppy: Kick, think fast!

 

She launches a paper ball toward him sitting just across from him and DogDay, who was sleeping peacefully on his shoulder.

 

At least before the small bit of paper ricochets off Kicken's beak.

 

Kicken: Hey! Careful, you’ll wake up Day!

 

Alas, it was too late, as the dog stirs, gently pushing off his boyfriend to sit up.

 

DogDay: Mnnmgm, whas happening..?

 

Bobby: Hoppy!

 

Hoppy: Agh, sorry, my bad!

 

Kicken: Damnit. Hey DogDay, you can go back to sleep if you want. Hoppy’s sorry for waking you up.

 

Hoppy: Hey! You were the one who started flickin’ paper at me!

 

The dog lets out a big yawn, settling back against Kicken.

 

DogDay: It’s ok, Kick, I’m up.

 

Bobby: Are you sure Day? How long were you up last night?

 

DogDay: L-Last night?

 

He yawns again, thinking.

 

DogDay: I didn’t sleep last night I don’t think. O-Or the night before.

 

Bobby: DogDay! That’s so unhealthy!

 

Kicken: That’s what I was trying to tell him!

 

DogDay: But I had to catch up in some of my classes before today!

 

Bobby: We were supposed to have yesterday and today off of class!

 

Bobby: It’s to say bye to all our friends before everyone moves back to their homes for the summer, not for class catch up!

 

DogDay: I know, but Kick didn’t want me…

 

Nervously, he catches himself as if he was about to say something he shouldn’t.

 

Bobby: Kicken didn’t want you what?

 

Kicken: Didn’t want him taking a class during summer.

 

Hoppy: What!? Why would you want that?

 

DogDay: W-Well, I wanted to make next year's schedule a little more clear!

 

Kicken: He has it in his head that if he could take a class from next year early, we could spend more time together.

 

DogDay: Which is true!

 

Kicken: But I told him it would mean less time together during the summer.

 

Kicken: Y’know, the time that we're all supposed to relax and be stress free.

 

Hoppy: Day, you already live in the same dorm as him, you didn’t need to do all that just to have more time with him, do you?

 

DogDay: Well, our schedules are always too full. We only really got to see each other in the mornings and nights!

 

Kicken: And during weekends, breakfast, lunch and dinner.

 

DogDay: Kickeeeen…

 

Kicken: Sorry Day, I’m just teasing.

 

He pets the dog gently, which Day snuggles into.

 

DogDay: I know…

 

DogDay: It’s just… we never really got to DO anything.

 

DogDay: Kicken was always having to do make-up work on the weekends, and when we did have time, we both were too exhausted to do… well, anything!

 

Hoppy: Such as…

 

She has a mischievous look in her eyes that Kick glares at as if to say “Don’t you dare…”

 

DogDay: I-I dunno, just… whatever Kicken would wanna do.

 

Hoppy: So you’re sad you had no time to fuck.

 

Bobby jolts with a blush, as does DogDay and Kicken, but in a much more obvious way.

 

DogDay: N-No! Well…

 

DogDay: We had no time to go on dates or anything, l-let alone… t-that.

 

Getting over his embarrassment as best as he could, Kicken places a wing gently around Day, who was clearly genuinely sad that he couldn’t spend a relaxing night with his bird for the whole year.

 

Kicken: Day, I really appreciate you and the fact you wanted to do that for us, but I didn’t want to see you stress over something during the summer, even if we had more time.

 

Kicken: And watching you try and cram that into our already packed schedule was even worse.

 

Kicken: But… well, you managed to do it alongside our already busy freshman year, so let’s just take the summer to relax, ok pup?

 

DogDay: Ok… sorry I stressed you out.

 

Kicken: Hey, hey! I know you just wanted to give us more time together. I’ll never not appreciate what you do DogDay.

 

 Bobby: Aww…

 

As Kicken and Day whisper to one another, Bobby can’t help but gush over the two.

 

She had for the whole school year in fact, right after she (and soon after, the rest of the Critters) caught them kissing right before they split for classes after lunch.

 

She’d made it her goal for the rest of the year to be their number one cheerleader, much to Hoppy’s chagrin.

 

After Kicken noticed her getting a bit jealous, she confided in him about her crush on Bobby, but she still hadn’t convinced herself to go for it yet.

 

It only got harder seeing Kicken and DogDay.

 

She was happy for them, of course, and had nothing against either of them, but it just made her feel so… powerless.

 

Like Kicken somehow found it so easy to just ASK his best friend out after so many years, and yet Hoppy still struggled to compose herself when Bobby made literally any physical contact with her.

 

Speaking of, Hoppy tried her best not to blush as Bobby excitedly nudged her back and forth as she watched the two share a small kiss with one another.

 

Day had noticed her staring and nervously waved.

 

She certainly was… enthusiastic about the two.

 

Something about seeing her two oldest friends besides Crafty finally getting together after all the cuddling and bonding they’d been “platonically” doing for so long.

 

She really had to resist not going overboard with how much she enjoyed seeing her friends so happy together.

 

Hoppy sighed, trying not to let it bother her, but in the tiny van, she didn't really have many options.

 

Teasing Kicken usually ended up involving his relationship with Day, seeing as it was the only thing she could really tease him about at the moment.

 

Talking to Bobby was off the table, as it usually was thanks to her annoying ass nerves.

 

Crafty was busy drawing in the front passenger's seat, and Bubba was focused on driving them safely back to the valley.

 

Thankfully, there was one critter she’s been able to depend on since before she even met the others.

 

Uuuuunfortunately , she was currently unable to speak thanks to a very unfortunate accident.

 

During the culinary finals, Picky was one of the judges, and some dumbass had neglected to mention what kind of bread he used as the base of his cake.

 

Cornbread for some damn reason, the namesake of which Picky had a rare and abnormal allergy to.

 

Thankfully, she was able to take the meds she needed to not die of it, but it still messed up her throat afterwards, and the nurse made sure she understood that she couldn’t speak for the next few days until it felt absolutely healed.

 

They could sign to each other, but honestly, Hoppy wanted to have a private conversation, so she pulled out her phone instead.

 

Sliding to her left a bit, she nudged the pig, who had apparently been playing what looked like cookie clicker.

 

She took out an earbud and Hoppy shook her phone at her, showing the messenger app.

 

Hoppy: ‘Hey what's hoppenin’ Picks?’

 

Picky: ‘killing time’

 

Picky: ‘you want to talk’

 

Hoppy: ‘Just wanna break from all the lovey dovey stuff’

 

Picky: ‘getting on your nerves’

 

Hoppy: ‘No yeah kinda?’

 

Picky: ‘cause of bobby’

 

Hoppy: ‘What? no!’

 

Hoppy: ‘Im not jealous or anything you know me’

 

Picky deadpans at her a little, though it’d be hard to differentiate from her default expression.

 

Picky: ‘just meant her being so yappy for them’

 

Hoppy: ‘Oh’

 

The misunderstanding has the rabbit flustered, her paw thumping off the carpeted floor of the van.

 

Suddenly, it stops as a paw rests on it.

 

Hoppy looks up to find Bobby staring at her,

 

Bobby: You ok?

 

Blushing, Hoppy shakes her head.

 

Hoppy: Yeah! I-I mean , yes I am, I didn’t shake my head like that on purpose, I meant to nod because yeah I’m- I’m all good over here, yeah… thanks.

 

Bobby: Ok..?

 

Hoppy’s phone vibrates, thankfully giving her a quick out as she snatches it up and tries not to think about how she just flubbed that entire conversation.

 

Picky: ‘your a mess’

 

Hoppy: ‘I think you mean you’re’

 

Picky: ‘k bubba’

 

Picky: ‘you need to tell her eventually or else this is gonna eat you up from the inside like tapeworm’

 

Hoppy: ‘Ew’

 

Picky: ‘exactly’

 

Picky: ‘tell you what’

 

Picky: ‘ill help if you promise me something’

 

Hoppy: ‘Help?’

 

Picky: ‘help’

 

Hoppy: ‘Oooook what?’

 

Picky: ‘you promise youll tell her by the end of summer’

 

Picky: ‘i set up my house for a romantic date and make it easier than eating hay’

 

Picky: ‘free food free night out free girlfriend’

 

Picky: ‘you just have to tell her by the end of summer’

 

Picky: ‘which is when the date will be’

 

Picky: ‘at the end of summer’

 

Hoppy: ‘I don't know how to date, I’ve never dated!!!’

 

Picky: ‘if you really want ill teach you but impressing her should be easy as pie’

 

Picky: ‘just be you’

 

Picky: ‘she likes that’

 

Picky: ‘see easy’

 

Hoppy: ‘Sure you make it SOUND easy but I cant stumbble ass backwards into a partner like KC can!’

 

Hoppy: ‘I could mess it all up’

 

Picky: ‘how’

 

Hoppy: ‘What’

 

Picky: ‘how would you mess up’

 

Hoppy: ‘I dont know! Something stupid i dont mean to do and then she thinks im weird and i lose my last chance!!!’

 

Picky: ‘so you dont even know so just go for it’

 

Picky: ‘extra points if i dont even got to help’

 

Hoppy: ‘I thought you wanted to help!’

 

Picky: ‘i   w a n t   you to stop beating around the bale’

 

Picky: ‘you love her’

 

Hoppy: ‘SO?’

 

Picky: ‘so love her’

 

Picky: ‘show her love and shell respond with it too’

 

Picky: ‘its literally her thing’

 

Picky: ‘once your done getting spooked about a future that aint even happened your gonna be feeling a lot better about this’

 

Picky: ‘promise’

 

Hoppy: ‘I know. Your right but its just hard ok’

 

Picky: ‘*youre’

 

Hoppy: ‘Pickyyyyyyyy’

 

Picky: ‘just trying to keep you hoppy’

 

Picky: ‘*happy’

 

Hoppy: ‘Thanks Jen. Really.’

 

Picky: ‘no problem’

 

Picky: ‘just actually ask her out i cant handle your slumps anymore’

 

Hoppy: ‘I will i will!’

 

Hoppy: I'll do the date thing too, I just gotta prepare my brain and stuff’

 

Picky: ‘K good luck im here to help’

 

Hoppy: ‘:bunny emoji: :thumbs_up emoji: ’

 

Picky: ‘:pig_with_chefs_hat_giving_thumbs_up emoji:’

 

Wait, there's an emoji for that!?

Meanwhile, Day and Kicken speak to each other while comfortably waiting to get home.

 

DogDay: How do you think CatNap’s been doing?

 

Kicken: I dunno. He seemed pretty sure about staying behind, even after Bubba made his whole speech about how it's bad to stay alone for too long.

 

DogDay: Did he… ever talk with any of you after we got to college?

 

Kicken: No, the valley group chat’s been pretty dry aside from Bobby saying we’re coming home today instead of tomorrow.

 

DogDay: I hope he didn’t feel bad about us making a group chat without him.

 

Kicken: Yeah, me too, but I think Hoppy was right about making him feel worse if we were constantly talking about stuff he wasn’t there for.

 

DogDay: Still… I- I just hope he's ok.

 

Kicken: I know Day… me too…

 

He gently presses a kiss to the dog's head as he nuzzles into him.

 

Everyone's been worried about CatNap, but he wouldn't respond to anyone, not even directly.

 

No calls, no texts.

 

Kicken: Hey Bubba! Are we there yet?

 

Bubba: If you start that, I will tie you to the top of the van.

 

Kicken: Ooo, Van Surfing! Sounds rad!

 

Hearing Bubba sigh from the front seat, Kicken can’t help but chuckle.

 

Bubba: We probably have about…

 

The elephant squints his eyes, eyeing just how far the valley should be on this endless stretch of road going completely straight.

 

He frustratedly groans as it’s not even in render distance, so he has to rely only on time.

 

Bubba: Maybe an hour left? Possibly 45 minutes?

 

Kicken: Ok thanks!

 

Kicken: Day’s getting a little homesick. If there’s anyone you can run over in order to save time, don't hesitate! Our leader’s on the line here!

 

Bubba can only glare at the completely empty two lane road.

 

Cars don’t even spawn this far out unless its for a-

 

Just then, a car shot past the van quickly, going in the opposite direction.

 

Joke…

 

Crafty: Slug bug.

 

Crafty suddenly socks Bubba in the arm, causing him to flinch and rub his now sore arm with a hoof.

 

He just silently stews at the universe quite literally making him its punching bag for its own entertainment.

It’s not much longer until The Critters finally make their way home (thanks to a cut Bubba had been desperate for due to a lack of CatNap.)

 

Stretching their legs, they all file out as Bubba shuts off the van.

 

It’s nearing night, the bright sun now a dome on the horizon, casting the sky in a gorgeous painted orange.

 

Yawns are shared and it’s clear that some Critters are bound for snoozetown soon due to jetlag (somehow.)

 

Hoppy hugs everyone and leaves Day and Kick with a “Cya lovebirds,” while Picky gives a small wave before getting some well wishes for her throat's healing.

 

Bubba turns in as well, Bobby walking with him towards both their homes in the bend of the cul-de-sac.

 

Kicken: Phew. Nice to see the valley again, huh Day?

 

DogDay: Mhm!

 

Kicken: Did you wanna go check on Nap?

 

DogDay: Yeah, but it may be a bit too late. He’s usually asleep by now.

 

Kicken: Well, no harm in checking. Even if it's just so I can put your mind at ease.

 

DogDay: Thanks Kick.

 

Kicken: No prob, my favorite guy.

 

With a cheesy wink from Kicken and a giggle from DogDay, they both start walking towards CatNaps tower.

 

Kicken: So… uh.

 

DogDay: Yeah?

 

Kicken: Well, now that we're back and it’s summer, do you…

 

The embarrassed look on his face gives a good guess as to what he's thinking.

 

Both him and Day are easily flustered at the idea of sleeping together, even if they've done so a few times since that fateful stormy night a year ago.

 

Kicken: Do you wanna stay over at my house?

 

Kicken: O-Or we could do yours instead if you want!

 

Kicken: Just whatever is cool with you!

 

Kicken: If… you wanna of course.

 

DogDay: Pfft- of course I wanna!

 

DogDay: Let’s do mine. I’ll make us a nice dinner too.

 

Kicken: Aw yeah. I can do with some homemade dogfood right about now!

 

DogDay: Ha, I’ll be sure to sprinkle in some birdseed. I know how you like it~.

 

Day makes sure to say that last bit with a little suggestiveness in the tone.

 

He knows a lot about how Kick likes it, and he’s always eager to please.

 

Coming up on Naps tower, Kicken almost runs into the door due to being a flustered mess, but Day stops him before he could make a K.C shaped dent in it.

 

Kicken: Doggies first.

 

DogDay: Why thank you!

 

Day knocks on the door, hoping Nap is awake, but hopefully if he's asleep it’s deep enough to not wake him.

 

Just as he does though, the door gives way as if it wasn’t locked at all.

 

Like it wasn’t even fully closed.

 

And that’s when they see it.

 

The knob had been kicked in.

 

A sudden shock of dread hits DogDay hard, sinking to the bottom of his stomach like lead,

 

Before either can get any answers at all, they hear a scream.

 

Bobby’s scream.

 

Both look across the way to her house as she comes shooting out the door.

 

Bubba, who’d been on the way to his, turns around in shock, and Hoppy bursts out of her house in a confused panic too.

 

That’s when… things get complicated.

 

When DogDay’s door opens.

 

Then Picky’s.

 

And Crafty’s, followed by another scream.

 

And all of the sudden there are more people in the valley than there technically ever had been.

 

Bubba: Bobby, what's wrong!?

 

Bobby: I-It’s Picky! S-She- a-a-and Hoppy, but there was something else, i-it looked like- looked like me, and-

 

That's when she catches a glance at Picky across the way, rushing out of her house at the commotion.

 

DogDay was headed over too, but… he looked different.

 

Was he always wearing that shirt? Those belts?

 

His eye, why does his eye look… torn?

 

And wait, DogDay was over with Kicken. He’s right there, she can see him.

 

Bubba notices this too, as well as the two Crafty’s that had just ran from their house, one crying and scared and the other… disturbingly neutral.

 

He backed up towards Bobby as what he could only assume as his Crafty caught up to them.

 

Bobby: W-Wait, they’re inside still!

 

She manages to say just as another Picky walks out of Bobby’s house, just like she said.

 

This one though, looked a lot worse for wear, scarred and bandaged to hell and back.

 

The sight made the real(?) Picky stop in her tracks.

 

Hoppy: Hey! Get the fuck away from her!!!

 

Hoppy shouted as she rushed towards them, just to be cut off by the fake(?) DogDay who looked strangely just as confused.

 

DogDay(?): Don’t touch her, everyone just CALM DOWN!

 

Hoppy(?): You’re not gonna do that by yelling, man.

 

Hoppy looked bewildered at her reflection, leaning on the doorframe of Bobby’s hive like she owned the place.

 

DogDay(?): Well, if you know better, then help! Tell, uh… yourself to stand down!

 

Hoppy(?): Pfft, she’s not gonna listen to me! Try telling your self to not latch onto Cameron like a spooked puppy!

 

DogDay was suddenly more conscious about himself than the chaos going over there, as he looked to Kick with fear in his eyes.

 

DogDay: Wh- Whats happening, what do we do!

 

Kicken: I… I dunno Day, just try and stay calm.

 

He hugged the dog close, trying his best to keep him safe.

 

Kick isn’t the leader, but it’s clear everyone is overwhelmed, especially Day and Bobby.

 

Hoppy: Get outta my way mutt! I know you’re not DogDay, so don’t think I won’t hurt you!

 

DogDay(?): Look, I don’t want anyone hurt, ok!? Let’s just calm the hell down and talk like normal people instead of going feral or cowering.

 

DogDay(?): Jaz, get Liz and Jenny and come over here. Let these people get to each other, but don’t let them hurt us or set off Jen.

 

Hoppy: US!? You think we’re gonna hurt you!? You’re literally in OUR houses!!!

 

Bubba: Hoppy! Just listen for now. Let's regroup, it’ll be safer that way.

 

Hoppy looks more than displeased, but regardless, she backs up, letting the other Hoppy, Picky, and a very off looking Bobby walk out of Bobby’s hive and towards the fake(?) DogDay.

 

Crafty is crying, now hidden behind Bobby and Bubba, while Picky and Hoppy walk over to them as well.

 

Day and Kicken are the last to arrive when the other DogDay speaks to the Hoppy he’d been calling Jasmine.

 

She heads off towards Kicken's house, but stops when he shouts.

 

Kicken: Hey what’s she doing!?

 

DogDay(?): I need her to go get you and Bubba, so we’re all here.

 

The other Crafty and Picky watch their counterparts as Jasmine comes back with two very disturbing sights.

 

Bubba, who looks completely out of it disheveled with scars all over, and Kicken…

 

Who only has one wing.

 

DogDay, lets out an involuntary whine, while Kicken tries not to be sick.

 

Kicken(?): What the hell is going on Sam!?

 

As soon as he sees the others, his eyes go wide, sweeping over everyone before he starts to hyperventilate.

 

Kicken(?): What the fuck. What the fuck, are we being replaced, what’s happening!?!?

 

DogDay(?): Calm down. They’re safe, and we’re not gonna let them hurt us.

 

Hoppy: Again with this shit? They’re in OUR houses!

 

She whispers to Bobby, who just holds her paw tight.

 

With everyone in place, except the increasingly noticeable absence of any CatNap, fake or not, the other DogDay(?) walks up to his toony reflection.

 

With all of them lined up like that, Day can notice that they all look… desaturated.

 

Many of them have scars and look so different from their counterparts that they could almost just be assumed to be related.

 

But no, these are really them… somehow.

 

DogDay(?): I’d assume you’re the leader of the Smiling Critters? Like me?

 

DogDay: I… yeah.

 

DogDay: T-These are my friends and this is my home.

 

DogDay: What are you doing here? Who even are you people?

 

The other Day sighs.

 

DogDay(?): We kinda hoped you would know more than we did, but…

 

DogDay(?): I’ll just… start from the beginning.

 

.

Notes:

Cute, Gay, And Unapologetically Cringe At Points (I Know Some People Really Don't Like Real World Song References In Their Fics, But I Personally Enjoy It. Just Learning To Play WTFU On Drums Is Fun AS Hell Already), Though That Ending Had Gone Through A Lot Of Changes. I May Even Spin Off Of This And Do A Multi Pairing Too. I Feel Bad Leaving Bubba Hanging, But It Will Most Likely Be A Day/Kick/Nap Chapter, Which I've Lovingly Dubbed "Stellar Collision" (Unless I'm Having Cryptomnesia And Have Heard That Ship Name Before Somewhere.)
Anyway, It's Either That, Or Maybe A Picky/Nap Pairing, But If You Can Go Past This Chapter You'll Already Know The Answer!

Regardless Of Which I Choose, Thanks For Reading My Self Indulgent Smut Ramblings! ^w^

(Oh My God, I Just Wrote All The Rest Of The Stuff At The End To Link It To Stellar Collision, And Now I Basically Have A Cinematic Universe.
Not really, But This, Stellar Collision, And A Crossover Fic I'm Gonna Be Linking To This One, Are All In The Second Of The Two Timelines For RR. Dont Worry, They Won't Cross Or Anything. It's Just Two Seperate Versions Of Events Based Off One Change Butterfly Effect Style.)