Work Text:
If there’s one thing every toon in gardenview knows, it’s a constantly repeated phrase which seems to hold such weight, that it’s the first thing they learn.
Toons have roles .
It is not a choice. There is no audition. No consideration. No evaluation. Toons are made to have roles. They are born, no, created, to fulfill those roles.
Their only job is to do so, to such an extent that they become the role. None of them ever wanted to find out what happened if they didn’t… So before they even got to learn things about their personalities, they got completely wiped like a whiteboard, and written over in permanent ink. And that was it. For most, that was it. They obeyed. They were able to keep up. They didn’t act out. They understood everything there was to be understood.
But not for all of them. The cheerful fluffy craft was for once, the exception. He stood out when he was young. Before he learnt how to act, how to be - which alone took a considerable amount of time compared to other toons. Although everybody seemed to have forgotten that, he sure didn’t.
You never really forget your childhood, especially the people around you, your family. The closest thing Goob had to family was his toon handler. Back then, all the toons had one, before Gardenview had to “cut back on fees” and let most of them go. His handler was a middle-aged man named Gabriel Winton, who held Delilah quite high. As a result, he didn’t exactly side with Arthur’s opinions about the toons. Just like the brunette scientist did, Gabriel Winton viewed toons as objects, or, at best, incompetent and stubborn animals. To him, treating them as anything more, anything worth caring for, was a waste of time - and resources.
You can imagine his reaction as he realized Goob was probably the worst out of all of them. He barely listened, he lashed out and, in his words, “overreacted like a little brat”. He wouldn’t understand basic things, especially how to talk with other toons - he tended to have this childish honesty that the already trained toons found… unusual. His handler sure did not appreciate that. And he made sure to show him, in any way he found appropriate.
Sometimes, when the room is too dark, the bedding too scratchy, and the scent a little off, Goob can recall an image. It’s nothing more than that, a mere image. But it shakes him in a way he wishes he wouldn’t be able to reason. It’s Gabriel, standing tall over him, mouth outstretched in a shout Goob can almost hear. The human’s hand is grabbing the little toon’s wobbly arm, pulling it slightly. Goob had dropped and shattered a glass. A glass that would be used in a set. He tried to explain how it wasn’t his fault, how his claws, they would… But the handler didn’t listen. He never did.
He’d only repeat what Goob did or didn’t do properly, until the craft wouldn’t be able to walk without overanalyzing his steps.
And that was it. That was how he came to fit into his role. He took longer than others, and by the time he completed his training, he had lost all his friends. Everyone was friendly, sure, but no emotion felt real afterwards. He remembered what it was like to have a close friend, a certain crustacean who had turned into… Well, everybody knows. He also changed slower than other toons, but the change was significant. Goob didn’t know who that toon was from a point onward, and they grew apart. Once he managed to get into his role, he found some comfort in it, hiding his true feelings behind the ones he had to feel. But he never really forgot. No. He never stopped knowing it was all an act. An unnatural, almost uncanny act.
He had never seen anybody “ruin the magic”, up to the shut-down of Gardenview. Little by little, the toons remembered, or even re-found their original selves. It started slowly, almost unnoticeably. Somebody would say something slightly out of character. Someone would admit to not feeling so well. Failed-to-be-silent sobs would echo through the halls, at hours everybody should be asleep.
But Goob couldn’t “turn it off”. And it hurt, it physically hurt so much, laying awake at night and trying, trying so hard to snap out of it. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. His actual self wasn’t that far from this… persona, but the difference was noticeable.
He’d sigh and look over at Scraps, who slept soundly, fully oblivious to what her little brother was going through. Goob thought he’d rather not involve her, as he didn’t want to worry her. He sure wished he had though, when one night, things were getting “bad” again, and Scraps wasn’t there. She’d be sleeping over at Poppy’s along with a few others, and had left early.
Goob had managed to sleep quite easily, which came as a surprise, giving his racing thoughts. Nothing seemed wrong. He felt… alright. Relaxed. And definitely unprepared for what was to come.
He hadn’t seen Gabriel Winton in his dreams for a while. And so he definitely did not expect the man to appear that night. Or the things he’d say.
And Goob could do nothing except hope he’d wake up, completely paralyzed in a familiar room, as his ex-handler opened his mouth. “Useless, useless toon. You cannot do anything properly. See? I’m proven right again. Whatever happens, you’ll never be like them. No. You’ll always be stuck in-between both worlds, like the unable waste of a role you are. Oh, cry all you please, nobody’s gonna help you. No. You are not supposed to cry. You’re the happy one, as if anybody is anything else in this excuse of a show. Yes, always cursed to be chained in this fate, your story is already written, isn’t that ri-”
The craft screamed, waking himself up by the loud sound he hadn’t heard in such a long time come out his mouth. Tears were flowing freely down his fluffy cheeks, wetting the fur in the process.
A string of light shone through the slightly open door. Somebody was standing there, a short figure Goob recognized. It was Shrimpo.
Shrimpo was the first one to completely “break free of his mask”. He turned (back, but most didn’t know that) into this whole other toon, a gentle, quiet but considerate crustacean that gave more than decent advice. A side of him Goob knew all too well, but he hadn’t had the courage to remind Shrimpo of what they were, before everything went as it did. Goob admired him, how he proudly shed the old skin of the “bully” role and didn’t hesitate to encourage others to follow his path.
So as he stood there, asking if he could come in, Goob nodded immediately. Shrimpo was probably the only one who would understand. And if the craft was to be honest with himself, he preferred Shrimpo over other toons. Not just because of their past, but also simply because he felt like he could trust the shrimp, he had even managed to let some parts of his original self shine through before. And Shrimpo seemed to like it. Goob wasn’t sure if it was because it rang some subconscious bell, or if Shrimpo remembered exactly what Goob used to be like.
Said toon walked in, closing the door behind him. Darkness consumed the room, but Goob had no issue with that - He was perfectly capable of seeing in the dark. Shrimpo walked silently over to his bed, and sat down on the edge.
“What’s up?” He asked in such simplicity and calmness, that Goob immediately started talking. He explained to the best of his ability, trying not to go into unwanted detail, but still wanting Shrimpo to have the complete picture, to understand.
Once he was done, he anxiously waited for a response, which came in a way he didn’t expect.
A hug. A hug. From Shrimpo of all people. It had been so long, so unexplainably long, that Goob didn’t even know how to hug him back. But he did, pulling him closer by accident - not that he complained.
Then Shrimpo finally spoke: “I’ve noticed how you seem off lately, and I had guessed it had something to do with the changes we’ve all been undergoing, but to hear all this… You’ve been going through all this alone, you idiot… I don’t exactly know what to say or how to help, other than you should take it slow, and careful”
Goob nodded.
“And also…” The shrimp added “I’m here to help. Nobody should do this alone, and especially not you. You’ve always been different - I remember that much… I do remember, Goob. And if I’d be honest, I’ve missed our little ..friendship. I used to quite like you, you know?”
Goob both almost laughed and cried, right then and there. “Like me? For what I was?”
“Of course! You fought back, in your own way… I found it kind of amazing.”
“Oh”
“Weird, I know, but… There’s a lot of things I’ve thought about everyone that I never really got a chance to say”
“I get it.”
Goob fell silent, staring at the toon still in his arms. “I still like you” Shrimpo went on. “Maybe more than I should. But in my defense, you’ve helped me in ways you probably aren’t even aware of”
“Like what?” Goob asked in an innocent curiosity that reminded the shrimp of earlier days.
“Simply being there. You brought a smile to us all, and even if I had to pretend I hated you, your unexpected hugs went a long way for me.”
Goob sighed with a half smile. Those hugs were never random. It was the touch-starved, clingy side of him trying to grab onto what it knew to be familiar.
Shrimpo burst out into a quiet laughter than startled Goob. “What??” He couldn’t help but smile too. “We’re stupid. We’re actually so stupid. Instead of sticking together, we let those assholes get between us, and didn’t even try to find our way back. Oh gosh, it would’ve been so much easier if I still had you all this time, Goob”. He smiled a wide smile that made Goob’s breath hitch.
The shrimp was right. They shouldn’t have stayed away from each other. It’s not like they had much choice, but if they-... No, what they could’ve done didn’t matter, but only what they did in the future. Goob looked at Shrimpo, hoping his smile didn’t make what he said any less serious.
“I think from now on, we should, as you said, stick together. We have so many years to make up for, there’s so many things I have to tell you and show you and-” He felt somehow he hadn’t in a while, as Shrimpo nodded in agreement. Excited. Optimistic, but not overly “Sunshine and rainbows”.
He felt like himself.
He kept his gaze locked on the crustacean, and a line from a random book he had read - or maybe he had heard it somewhere? - went through his head, and accidentally out his lips:
“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you”
Shrimpo chuckled, his face reddening slightly. “Thank you, I guess”
Goob almost started to explain, analyze the metaphor. But he didn’t. It’s not like it was just a metaphor.
Shrimpo yawned. “I’m sleeping here. And we’re talking more tomorrow. And I mean, significantly more. I want everything. I want you to-” he ran a finger over Goob’s still damp cheek “-be you again. My shy, caring, considerably playful and always curious boy”
Goob chuckled, trying to ignore the implication in that statement. God, it was like not a day had passed since the last time they spoke like this. There were definitely still the same odd feelings in the air, he noticed. He didn’t mind, the sense of familiarity overcoming the potential awkward-ness. “Okay, okay, you can stay. Pull the blanket up, I’m tired” He said in a pretend-strict voice.
Shrimpo mumbled something about Goob being an idiot - again, but ended up cuddled up with his… best friend. (For the most part.)
Goob sighed, forever glad he’d finally made a step towards what he wanted to be.
The unapologetically original version of himself, the actual Goob.
He could do it, he confidently stated to himself, and he wouldn’t have to do it alone. Not again.
ex_martian Fri 20 Jun 2025 09:17AM UTC
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