like I mean this very seriously as writing advice. the character should experience events and make decisions that make them different at the end of the story. they should be changed. they do not have to be improved.
they can get worse. they can make decisions of an increasingly terrible nature. they can stop taking risks on kindness. they can discover how much they can get away with. they can find religion, or abandon it, with negative effects on their moral creed. the character has to develop. the character does not have to grow.
Author's Note: Hope y'all don't mind if we take a detour from Lou losing his mind and focus on some cutesy vignettes instead! Just some lighthearted fun on how some of the anomalies met. They are my lil babies ough. The first few paragraphs are shown and the rest are under the cut!
It was a particularly rough day of training. The trainees were expected to traverse a large obstacle course of paint, buckets, and sponges. It sounded easier than it was. Dozens of dolls lost their balance and landed face first into a puddle of bright paint, Moxine included.
She huffed as she trudged out of the washing machine. That was the third round today, and she swore she could hear her head sloshing if she shook it. She was a stubborn doll, but there was a limit that she was quickly approaching. To save her sanity, she let her arms hang limply as she went to take a break by some picnic tables. She could complete this task later, even if it delayed her ability to take on the Gauntlet.
She plopped down and sighed. Her head hung back lazily, and she caught sight of the large monitor across the plaza. It was playing several Pretty Doll commercials over and over. She had seen them a hundred times, yet they always pricked at her heart.
She couldn't help but envision herself in the arms of the children in the videos. Being hugged, played with, snuggled, and so much more. It was such a comforting idea that, even with a head full of damp stuffing, she smiled.
She stretched and adjusted to sit properly on the bench. While her energy to train returned, she ought to dry out first.
She peered around the lot of picnic tables. A few other dolls were littered about. Some ate, some studied books, others napped. It was a nice, relaxed environment.
Until someone hopped up onto her table from out of nowhere.
“AH!”
She put a hand over her heart, panting from the random motion. She shook her head with disbelief when she saw a doll with blue, thin locs hopping amongst the tables on all fours, causing a ruckus and disturbing the peace. The other dolls groaned and glared at the rowdy newcomer, some getting up to leave.
Upon seeing no one was as amped up as him, the blue doll seized his jumps and tilted his head. “My bad, you all looked so down that I tried to get a party going!” He watched as more and more dolls walked away. He shrugged. “A good comedian can accept when a joke doesn't land. Sorry guys!” He looked around absently before spotting the monitor playing commercials. He turned and laid on his side, propping his upper half up by his elbows on top of the table.
Moxine observed the newcomer with interest. He was certainly odd, with the sudden bouts of energy and habit of being on all fours, but he seemed well intentioned. As he stared up at the screen, she took the opportunity to stand and approach him.
“Hey, you like the commercials too?” She asked.
The new doll turned with a smile and a wink. Actually, the wink was lasting too long to be, well, a wink. The blue haired doll didn't seem to question it, so Moxine assumed that he probably couldn't open his right eye. She'd prefer a clear answer, but she felt it rude to bring it up right away.
“Oh yeah, they are one of the few things keeping me going in this boring place.” The new doll rolled onto his back and stretched out his limbs.
“Same here! ” Moxine agreed.
The blue haired man gasped and pointed at the screen. “Oh oh, here's my favorite part!” He watched with awe as a clip of a child holding their doll and chasing their dog played.
Moxine didn't quite get the appeal of that clip specifically, but she nodded nonetheless. “It's always nice seeing a kid playing with their doll!”
“Wha- no! Er, I mean yeah, that's true too, but it's my favorite part because of the dog!”
“The dog?”
“The dog! I looove dogs! All of them, from little snappy chihuahuas to stoic great danes. They're just so cool. The coolest!” He shot finger guns in the air as he rolled about the table.
Moxine raised a brow. “Uh, chihua-what?”
The blue doll froze. “You don't know about chihuahuas? Do you know anything about dogs?”
When Moxine shook her head, he flipped back onto all fours and swayed his hips to replicate wagging a tail. “Care if I enlighten you?”
“No problem, Mr. uuuuh-”
“Eugene Douglas is the name!”
“Got it! Mr. Douglas!”
“No no no, Eugene Douglas. Neither name is optional.”
“Mr. Eugene Douglas it is! I’m Moxine.”
“Sick!” Eugene Douglas leaned to look around Moxine. “Aha! I thought I saw someone reading this.” He slid off the surface and walked on two legs towards a book someone had left on a neighboring table. He lifted it up and showed off the cover: “Pets of the Big World.”
“Great read, by the way. Highly recommend it. It goes over everything, from cats and dogs to fish and birds!” He opened it up towards the front, thumbing through the pages before slamming it down onto the table. He pulled out the bench and patted for Moxine to sit. She graciously accepted the seat, and he plopped down beside her.
“Alright, so dogs come in different ‘breeds’ that look a little different from each other. For example,” he pointed at the picture of a small dog, “chihuahuas are tiny, have big heads and eyes, and pointed ears. Great at parties.” He flipped through and pointed at a much bigger dog. “Meanwhile, great danes are huge! They got boxy faces and long legs. Their ears are naturally floppy and their tails are naturally long, but some humans get them ‘docked’ to point the ears and shorten the tail. Can’t say I care for that part, but luckily that’s going out of fashion. Sort of. Slowly.” He shook his hand in a so-so fashion and turned the page. He blew a loc out of his face. “There are hundreds of breeds! I’ll never understand those who say they hate dogs. No two dogs are the same!” He angled the book so that Moxine could see it better.
The pink haired doll smiled wide. “Woah, I didn’t know all that! You’d think they’d put this in the curriculum. Pets are a common obstacle for toys, and dogs are probably the most common pet! I guess there simply isn’t enough time.”
“I’d host the class if stingy Lou would let me.” He blew a raspberry. “He hates my dog stuff. Claims the knowledge is fine, but that my behaviour shouldn’t be influenced. Man, whatever. I’m just having fun. I know I’m not actually a dog.” He patted at the top of his head. “Though, a second set of ears would be slick.” He chuckled.
Moxine nodded solemnly. “Yeah, Lou is a bit picky sometimes. He has our best intentions in mind, but it can be hard to handle so much criticism. He’s not as bad towards me, I’m sure, but he hates my teeth and forehead! He says they make me an ‘anomaly’ or something like that.” She traced over her tooth gap. “They’re ugly, I know, but how am I supposed to fix that? Bluh, who cares? I’m just gonna train and blow his socks off at the Gauntlet!”
Eugene Douglas let out a loud laugh. “I like your style, Moxine! We need more spunk like yours around this lame place. No use in wallowing in self pity when our kids are waiting. I sure do wish my kid has a dog. We’d be best buds!”
Moxine giggled. “For sure! What breed would you want the dog to be? Do you have a favorite? Is it a chihua-hoo?”
“Chihuahua,” Eugene Douglas corrected, “but as cool as they are, they probably aren’t my favorite. Hm, I don’t know if I have just one favorite. I am fond of pitbulls, though. A lot of people think they’re scary, but most are just big softies! They have the cutest little ears. Man, you just gotta see!” He flipped through pages and stopped on the pitbull section. He held up the book towards his face, lining up the dog’s ears with the top of his head. “A little pointy, a little droopy. If I had ears like a dog, I’d want them like this.”
He randomly went stiff, lowered the book to reveal a bashful expression, and closed it. “Sorry, mi amiga. Didn’t mean to cram up the conversation with my weirdness.”
“I didn’t think it was weird. It was very informative, and I could tell it made you happy!” Moxine offered a genuine smile.
Eugene Douglas tilted his head with flattery. “Aw, it ain’t much. That is nice to hear, though.” His voice lowered. “To be honest, ever since Lou pointed it out, I can’t help but notice all the other dolls staring at me, be it my dog thing or my eye. He also said that made me an anomaly.” His right eyelid twitched but never opened. “I try to show the others that I’m fun, but it’s not really working. You’re the first doll to indulge me.” He bumped Moxine playfully with his shoulder, and she bumped back with a giggle.
“Glad I could help. I'm sure the other dolls will come around eventually. Though, maybe don't disturb them while they're resting, no matter how gloomy they seem.” When Eugene Douglas scratched at his chin with embarrassment, she put a hand to his shoulder. “Us ‘anomalies’ ought to stick together, I guess. Say, you would like my friend Oxford! He’s an anomaly too, and he loves parties.”
“For real?” Eugene Douglas stood and gestured around with bafflement. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s plan a party!”
Oxford wandered around the shelves of the library. Hundreds of books discussing both the Institute and the Big World lined the walls, making searching for any one topic intimidating. Books were organized by genre and author name, though when every author was some variation of “Robot #78”, it didn’t exactly help much. Oxford was becoming convinced he’d never find what he needed.
Earlier, Moxine had waved him down and introduced her to her new friend Eugene Douglas. He was a fellow anomaly and absolutely adored dogs. Moxine pointed out their shared interest in parties, and the two hit it off right away. Oxford went on and on about how parties were the perfect way to bring a community together, and Eugene Douglas agreed with every word. It was a match made in perfection.
So, naturally, they began planning a small party. The problem was that they only knew the tea party Lou threw for the newcomers every couple nights. They wanted something more lively, but how to do it?
Oxford thought reading a book on parties would give them ideas, but he couldn’t find a single book on that topic anywhere! The closest he found was a guide to children’s birthday parties, which more so focussed on how to navigate within the party setting, not necessarily how to prepare one.
He sighed as he reached the end of another shelf with no luck. He rested his forehead on the wall of books, defeated.
That’s when he heard a mumbling nearby.
He turned to see a study room with its door ajar. Curious, he peeked through the door.
The study room was empty aside from one doll sat in a vanity. His red hair was splayed out and his posture was a tad strange, but nothing of concern. He leaned forward in the chair, staring into his own reflection with large, honey yellow eyes.
“I’m a genius. I’m a genius. I’m a genius. I. Am. A. Genius.”
He kept repeating the same phrase over and over at himself, seemingly trying to force himself to believe it.
“I’m a genius. I’m a genius. I’m a-”
He suddenly stopped, and Oxford gasped when they made eye contact via the mirror. The red haired doll swung around. “GAH!” He hid his face in his hands, red creeping up to his ears.
Oxford stepped inside the room and waved his hands around. “I’m SO sorry! I didn’t mean to peep in on you like that. I ain’t trying to be a weirdo, I just heard a noise and was wondering what it was.”
The nervous doll grumbled into his hands before remembering to project. “N-no, it’s okay. I was just being dumb anyway.” He lowered his arms and frowned. “I’ll go.”
“No no no, I was the one to intrude. I should be the one to leave.” Oxford worried at his ponytail. How could he be so rude?
“Nooo…” Lucius groaned, waving his hands as conflicting urges overwhelmed him.
Oxford’s lip thinned, unsure what else to say or do. Should he still leave? Or was the “no” a sign that the other doll wanted him to stay?
“I really am sorry.” He repeated, hoping that'd help coax the redhead into talking.
Then he noticed a book sat on the vanity: “A Doll’s Mind: How to Succeed through Psychology.”
The skittish doll saw his attention shift and turned to look at the book. He swiped it up and held it to his chest defensively. “I thought it would help.” He mumbled.
Oxford tilted his head. “That book looks interesting.”
When Oxford didn’t seem weirded out by his behaviour, the redhead peeked up with a sparkle in his eye. “It is.” He held the book out to inspect its cover with a sidelong grin. “Us dolls are rather fickle creatures. So trusting and caring, yet also so naive. We often believe anything we’re told. Some theorize it's to help us get immersed in imaginative play. I wonder if that’s why honesty is such an important thing to Lou.”
“That’s rather generous of him if that’s the case.” Oxford started. “He could easily lie to all of us and do whatever he wanted, but he chooses honesty no matter how harsh. I respect that.”
The redhead glanced away, hugging the book tight and rocking in his seat. “Do you think… EVERYTHING he says is the truth?” He inquired with a soft voice, begging for guidance.
Oxford scratched the back of his head. “I like to think so, but I don’t know. Sometimes the ‘truths’ he points out seem more like opinions that he’s dressing up as the truth. Like, he said my friends and I are anomalies just for being made a bit different. He claims it ain’t anything to worry about and that he’ll handle it later, but then why give it a label? It’s all so confusing, and I can’t tell if it's because I’m just, well, naive, or if I’m seeing something no one else is. No one else questions him, so why should I?” His hand fell to his side. “Does your book mention if anomalies think differently, er, whatever your name is?”
“Lucius,” the awkward doll clarified, “and not that I know of. I don’t think I’ve seen the word ‘anomaly’ in here a single time. Odd. You know, Lou called me that too. He said I’d need to fix my posture before I can graduate, but no matter how hard I try,” he extended his arms for a second before reverting back, “I can’t do it. So, I thought, maybe it’s a psychological thing. The book says that since we believe what we’re told so easily, that positive affirmations can have a real effect on our self-image. I thought I’d start small with trying to feel smart.” He looked over his shoulder and stared at his reflection with melancholy. “It didn’t work.”
“Why,” Oxford took a step forward and put his hands to his hips, meeting Lucius’s eye through the mirror, “you seem pretty smart to me! You were given a problem and tried a pretty clever solution, if I do say so myself. Dare I say, that’s some genius thinking right there.”
Lucius smiled wide with a blush, bunching his shoulders bashfully. “Ah, I’m just trying anything. You, on the other hand, are quite the independent thinker! I mean, admitting to questioning THE Lou, the most perfect doll ever made? I never would’ve done that. Who questions perfection?” Lucius furrowed his eyebrows as he realized the irony of that question.
Oxford had to remind himself that not everyone has seen the sides of Lou he has. He recalled their meeting on his first day. Now knowing that some of that outburst was real put an odd feeling in Oxford’s stomach. He didn’t have a better descriptor for it other than “doubt.” He hated that feeling. Lou has been nothing but truthful to him since, so why linger on that first impression?
Would someone truly perfect need to assert that fact so often?
He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
“I guess that’s just another anomalous aspect of me.”
He suddenly perked. “Oh, hey, how well do you know the library?”
Lucius tilted his head. “Um, pretty well. I like the quiet, so I find myself here pretty often.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know if there are any books about throwing parties, would you?”
“Uh, don’t believe so, but there might be some books that can help.”
Lucius stood and led Oxford out of the study room. He tisked idly as he scanned the shelves for anything useful. He pulled a book out and handed it to Oxford nonchalantly before continuing his search.
The green haired doll squinted at the cover: “What’s with Balloons?”
“It’s mostly about dealing with static since we’re made of fabric, but it said balloons are often at parties, so I thought of it.” Lucius whispered while veering off into another section.
Oxford nodded along and tucked the book under his arm before following his library buddy.
Lucius gestured at a whole shelf. “Parties tend to have activities to do, so why not check out a book about an activity?”
“Good thinking.” Oxford agreed quietly. He pulled out one book at a time to see if any stood out.
Tea making? Too reminiscent of their first party.
Jousting? Hm, seemed to require toy horses, which the Institute lacked.
Flower arranging? Maybe a bit too delicate for a lively party.
He then pulled out a book on crocheting. Normally he'd dismiss the idea considering none of them knew how to do that, but a little crochet dog on the cover immediately reminded him of Eugene Douglas. He smiled. He had to show him, so he tucked it away beside the balloon book.
“Erm,” Lucius peered around absently, “I'm not sure what also could help. Sorry.”
“Don't be sorry, you helped plenty! Thank you.” Oxford held up the fruits of their labor to prove his point.
Lucius shrugged. “No problem.”
“Say,” Oxford leaned forward on his toes, “want to help set up for the party I'm hosting?”
“Oh, me? Um I don't know if that's really my thing. Parties can get a bit loud.”
“Aw, don't worry. It's a little one: just me and my friends Moxine, Bobby, and Eugene Douglas. They'd love to have you.”
Lucius hummed as he considered. Finally, he grinned slightly. “I suppose it could be fun.”
Oxford hopped in place. “Nice! Here, let's check these out, and I'll introduce you to them. This is gonna be great!”
It was pure coincidence that Bobby was walking by when he smelled something good. It was sweet and alluring, forcing his feet to go off course in search of it. Training could wait; he was hungry now!
He sniffed around until pinpointing a specific house. Whatever was being made in there smelled amazing!
He was shocked that anyone was still in their house at this time. It was almost noon, surely everyone was done with their morning routines. He didn’t linger on that, though. Who was he to judge how quickly someone got ready? That was Lou’s job.
Right, Lou.
He’d surely have a few snarky words should Bobby appear late for the training he insisted he’d arrive early to this time.
Hmmm, but that smell was too convincing.
He knocked on the door.
He jumped when he heard a yelp on the other side. There was an awkward silence, a rustle of the blinds in the nearby window, then more silence.
Okay, so evidently this doll was shy. He wasn’t the most extroverted guy around, so he understood the struggle to some extent. Perhaps he should try stepping out of his comfort zone?
Ignoring the anxiety pricking at him, he nervously spoke. “Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but whatever you’re making smells really good!”
“Uh,” a flurry of throat clearing noises came from beyond the door, “thanks.” The doll said in a strained voice.
Bobby frowned. “Are you sick? Can dolls get sick?” His brows screwed together at that last question. A headache was already brewing.
“No, and I don’t know.” The voice replied shortly. They cleared their throat again. “I just think I sound weird. I don’t talk much.”
Bobby immediately felt bad for assuming they were sick. It was the straining that gave him that impression, not necessarily the voice itself. He rocked on his feet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
There was a brief hesitation. “Don’t worry about it.”
Another awkward silence.
Bobby whined in his throat. This wasn’t going as planned. He considered leaving the poor doll alone, but a curiosity kept him at their doorstep. “What are you making?”
“Ice cream pie.”
“Ice cream AND pie? I didn’t even know that was possible!”
The hidden doll chuckled. “It’s a tricky recipe. I’m trying to get better at my baking. It helps pass the time.”
“Well, my nose likes it at least.” Bobby raised a finger inquisitively. “Uh, but it’s late. Shouldn’t you be heading to training?”
“I’m not going.” The voice responded easily.
“Why? Don’t you want to take on the Gauntlet?”
“Of course I do! It’s just-” The mysterious doll scoffed loudly. “Would you leave me alone? Clearly I’m busy!”
Bobby flinched at the biting tone. Embarrassment washed over him and he backed away. “Sorry. I’ll go.” He muttered.
As he walked away from the house, he smacked himself in the side of the head. Why did he bother someone like that? That was rude! Now, he was going to be late for training. He slumped over sadly as he shuffled along the road. He was not looking forward to the earful that awaited him from Lou.
Unfortunately, he was expected to train extra to make up for his tardiness. A whole day of climbing stairs, traversing monkey bars, avoiding bags of flour, and so much more put a toll on his little doll body. His feet drug as he made his way back to his house. He squinted up at the sunset sky. What he’d give to sleep for a whole week.
As he passed by a row of identical homes, he gasped at a sudden noise to his right. He whipped around, fists up defensively (not that he’d actually pick a fight).
The swift motion of a window closing revealed the source of the noise. He tilted his head. There was something left on the window sill. He looked around just in case this was some sort of prank, but when no other dolls were spotted, he nervously approached the item.
His nose recognized it before his eyes did.
He perked up as a paper plate holding a slice of ice cream pie greeted him.
He went to grab it before hesitating. He picked at his fingers, unsure how to confirm that he could take it. Luckily, a small note was tucked under the plate. He plucked it up and read it over:
“Sorry for yelling.”
Simple, to the point, and the confirmation he needed.
He smiled wide, buck teeth on full display as he graciously took the dessert. “Thank you!” He called out.
When met with no answer, he decided it was time to head home. A bittersweet meeting, but one he enjoyed nonetheless.
Another morning, another delectable aroma coming from the mysterious house. This one was more rich than sweet, and it distracted Bobby instantly.
He stood in front of the door, debating if he should say something. He didn’t want to be a bother, but he didn’t want to pretend nothing happened either. With a huff, he made up his mind. He knocked.
He tried to catch a glimpse of the shy doll through the flash of the blinds, but the glare of the window prevented that.
A small throat clear caught his attention. “Yes?” The voice said in a neutral tone.
“Uh, just wanted to thank you again for the pie last night. It was really good!”
“Eh, don't mention it.”
“What are you making today?”
“Fudge brownies.”
“I thought so. Smells great! You're a really talented baker.”
“Thanks. It is my profession, after all. Along with being a model, but that one is a work in progress. I look weird.”
“Huh? I'm sure you look just fine.”
“I mean, technically I do, but I think the individualization scanner messed up. I'm convinced the only thing it got right was my profession. Hm, I guess my name ain't half bad, either.”
Bobby groaned. “Oh, sorry! I never asked your name.”
“Don't worry, I didn't ask for yours either. We're both rude and dumb.” The voice chuckled.
The gray haired doll pointed at himself despite the other doll not being able to see him. “I'm Bobby.”
“Bobby. Alright, er, I'm Wade.”
Bobby smiled. He now had a name for this mysterious new friend. Although, it did sound familiar…
He gasped. “Hey, you wouldn't have happened to be made three days ago. Would you?”
There was a brief pause before Wade cleared their throat. “Uh, yeah, what about it?”
Bobby hopped slightly with excitement. “I think we were made at the same time! I remember the doll in front of me at the individualization scanner being named Wade!”
“Huh?!”
Bobby’s smile fell. Why didn't they sound happy about that? He shifted his weight between his feet, not knowing what to say.
There was a shuffle, and Wade's voice came from just beyond the door. “You don't remember what I looked like, do you?” They asked frantically.
Bobby furrowed his brows with worry. “Um, maybe a little? You had orange hair.”
“Ugh, just forget anything about what I look like! The scanner messed up and I still need to fix it! Oh, this is just great…” Wade muttered something before sighing. “I can tell you're confused. Silence says a lot.”
“Maybe a little, but you don't have to explain if you don't want to. If it helps, I barely remember you. Uh, the you of a few days ago, at least. I prefer this one more, anyway. I actually know this one.”
He couldn't see it, but he could feel Wade's smile.
“You're a sweet one, I'll give you that, Bobbo.”
“Bobby.”
“Close enough.” Wade's giggle trailed off and they huffed. “Say, mind if I ask a weird question?”
Bobby nodded before remembering he should verbalize his answer. “Sure.”
Wade hesitated before asking. “If you had to guess from my voice alone, what gender would you think I am?”
Hm, definitely wasn't expecting that. Bobby idly hummed as he considered his answer. Honesty was always the best policy. “It was hard to tell at first, but now that I've talked to you more and you aren't straining as much, I'd guess you're a woman.”
It fell quiet, but this time, it was a peaceful calm.
“That's good.” Wade exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding.
“So, I was right?” Bobby inquired.
“Yeah, you were right.” Wade's voice sounded a lot clearer now, more confident. She suddenly groaned with uncertainty. “Uh, aren't you supposed to be at training?”
Bobby blinked, frowned, then screamed briefly. “I'M LATE! SO SORRY WADE, BUT I GOTTA GO!” He turned on his heel but froze. He angled his head back towards the door. “Want to come with?”
Wade paused with consideration. “No, but thanks for the offer. Now, get out of here, you moron!”
Bobby chuckled with a snort before running off.
His body may have ached from another extra long training session, but that didn't deter his smile as he passed by Wade's house. He slowed his stride just in case, and sure enough, a familiar voice called out.
“Ay, Bob!”
“Bobby!”
“Whatever.”
The gray haired doll happily changed course towards his friend's door. The window lifted, and a hand poked out with a plate of brownies. As he happily took the gift, he couldn't help but notice the contrast between their fabric colors. Wade was much darker, and that helped jog his memory of what she used to look like a bit. He quickly shook his head to dismiss the recollection. That didn't matter now.
“Thanks.” He popped a bit of brownie in his mouth and hummed. “So good!”
“It better be.” Wade teased.
As Bobby ate the dessert, Wade took the opportunity to speak.
“Okay, so, mind if I ask something of you?”
Bobby swallowed and wiped his mouth with his hand. “Uh, sure, what is it?”
“So,” Wade scoffed before continuing, “mind fetching me some hair ties? I know it's dumb, but I think they'll help. And, maybe some lipstick too. Whatever color you think will go with orange.”
Bobby repeated the items under his breath to hopefully not forget. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Thank you, you can head home now. It's late.”
“That it is.” Bobby glanced up at the twilight sky and frowned. “I'll be back tomorrow. If that's fine with you.”
“Feel free. Not like I'm going anywhere anyway.”
Just as promised, Bobby returned to Wade's house, this time a little sooner. He thought he'd give the “leaving early so you have time to get things done” approach a try. Anything to help a friend. He knocked a little beat.
“You got the stuff yet?” Wade asked in a tone that tried to hide her eagerness but failed.
“That I did, ma'am!” Bobby dug around in his pocket, palming over some unrelated items before pulling out two hair ties and a tube of lipstick.
He stumbled back as the door was unexpectedly opened. A cloth hand stuck out and gestured for him to hand over the goods. He placed the gifts gingerly in the palm and watched them get swiped back inside, the door locking.
“Thanks a ton! But, er, how did you get these?”
“Oh, I found the hair ties on the training grounds; they fall out all the time. Don't worry, I washed them. And I got the lipstick from my friend Moxine. She doesn't care to wear it. Is pinkish-red fine?”
He could tell Wade was inspecting the color. “It's perfect.” She then clicked her tongue. “Why don't you get to training early today? I need some time to doll up, anyway. Oh, and what's your favorite kind of cookie?”
Bobby’s mouth watered at the mere idea of cookies from Wade. “Oatmeal raisin.”
“Ew, really? I mean, uh, okay. Meet me after training, you hear me?”
“Wouldn't miss it!”
Who would've thought that arriving to an event early would get you on Lou’s good side? The leader graciously let Bobby leave a little early as a reward for his punctuality.
Bobby made his way to Wade’s house immediately. He was just so excited to talk with his friend again. Wade was shy and maybe a bit snippy at times, but she was also really nice. Theories on why exactly she wanted to see him after practice played in his head. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wonder for long, for a particular house came into view. His feet picked up the pace, practically skipping.
As he approached the door like usual, he stumbled to a halt when it began to open. He gasped as someone stood at the doorway with a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies.
Wade’s pinkish-red lips were pursed with hardly hidden worry. Her brown eyes darted all around Bobby, having a hard time picking a place to look. She groaned with annoyance at her behaviour and shook her head, the poofy pigtails on top of her head swaying with the movement. She stomped, took a deep breath, and held out the cookies.
Bobby accepted one and took a bite. He could cry from how delicious it tasted. “Thank you.” He muttered between bites. Before he knew it, half the cookies were gone.
“Dang Blobby, did training take that much out of you?” Wade gawked.
Bobby blushed with embarrassment. “No, these are just sooo good! I should probably stop before I explode, though.” He pouted longingly as he placed a cookie he was about to eat back down.
Wade rolled her eyes and set the plate on a table by the door. “I’ll put them in a container for you to take home. Can’t say I like oatmeal raisin.” Her nose scrunched.
She then crossed her arms, glancing away bashfully. “So, what do you think? Think I could be a model?”
Bobby made a frame out of his thumbs and index fingers and looked over the orange haired doll. “I think you could be a superstar!” The yellow eye peaking through his fingers sparkled.
Wade smiled with relief. “Ah, don’t get too chummy. Thank you, though.”
She looked down, frowning as she remembered something. “Um, I was going to ask you to do this, but I don’t want to order you around like you’re some sort of lap dog. Ugh,” she pinched at the fabric of her pants, “I need a skirt. Any idea where to get one?”
Bobby shrugged. “Can’t say I do. Most dolls don’t want to give up their extra clothes. If they can avoid a round in the wash by changing into a fresh pair of clothes, they will. Oh! But maybe Lou can help us!”
“Lou?”
“Gosh, you really have been cooped up in there. Not that that’s a bad thing! Erm, nevermind. Lou is the leader of the Institute. He’s practically perfection incarnate! If anyone can help us, it’s him.”
“Okay, where is he?”
“Probably still by the training grounds. If not, I’m sure someone can point us in the right direction.”
“Alright.”
Wade began marching down the street. Bobby tripped to catch up, and Wade peered over her shoulder. “You don’t have to come. I got this.”
Bobby’s brows furrowed with determination. “But I want to.”
Wade raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because you’re my friend!”
Wade’s eyes shot open, blinked, then faced forward again.
While Bobby couldn’t see it, he could feel her smile.
personally I am of the opinion that vegans who are like “the way our food system currently works under capitalism on a large scale is exceptionally cruel to all animals including humans and is not sustainable, so I’m doing what I can to make the most ethical choices available to me about what I eat and encourage others to do the same” are generally very reasonable people who I agree with in spades. but vegans who seem to think human beings are not themselves animals who are ultimately also part of the food chain but instead some kind of other paternalistic higher entity that can never engage in ethical and sustainable hunting practices (and especially the fringe I’ve seen who think other carnivorous animal predators are also evil and need to be eliminated) are people I regard as foolish at best if not actively anti-indigenous and racist
Maybe its just my feelings talking.. mayyyybe my "fix-it" powers have gone to my head, maybe this is out of character and I'm just in denial..??
But man, I cant get the thought out of my head that Tai Lung loved his little sister so much, and Tigress loved her big brother right back.
Things were probably so lonely for Tai Lung growing up.. he had never met another big cat like him, or really anyone like him.. until Tigress. And wouldn't you know it, she had felt that same loneliness as he did..
He finally had someone who was just like him, and knew exactly how he felt.. I can just imagine the wonders that would have done for Tai Lungs mental health, and how much better off he is having had Tigress in his life.
And honestly, the same applies for Tigress. I like to think that in present day she's still super tough and hardcore, but you don't need to dig as far to find her soft side.😊
The urge to make plush petitions for Kiki and Bouba are so strong but I legit don't know if people would buy them enough for them to actually go on sale one day.
It may be a while from now but I want to know if people would be interested.
people saying "write what you want to see in the world!" and that's always a good sentiment but this post isn't really about "oh no there's no content for my ship", more the feeling of "i looked up something that i thought was so obvious that surely plenty of more seasoned ao3 perverts would have thought of it already, but apparently i'm the weird one"
ellievsbear
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
