heartstringsbloom

[heartstringsbloom]

Okay so my knowledge of Cater Diamond’s struggles and backstory is from fandom discussion I’ve seen, I might not have all the details right, but I just realized something about him

His unique magic allows him to split himself into multiple clones. Each version is not necessarily him, but an imitation, or a copy. A fake, not real.

Cater himself is not “real,” not when he’s wearing a pretend smile and a dispassionate laugh. During the chapter 5 auditions Vil even said that his performance, impressive as it was, lacked any and all substance and passion. Cater did everything well and successfully, but it was all hollow.

His clones are perfect imitations that lack any heart. This is a metaphor for Cater’s own sense of fraud and masking, not that he himself doesn’t have a heart, but that “Cay-Cay” perhaps doesn’t. Not to mention the nickname itself, an almost duplicate of his own name that refers to his outward persona.

I’m sure this parallel has already been acknowledged and maybe his unique magic was always meant to foreshadow his internal struggles, but I just found it so interesting and heartbreaking. He’s so sweet but he won’t let himself be real

[heartstringsbloom]

McQueen and Sally, sharing warm cocoa at Flo’s as they watch rain dance along the window, casting meaningful eyes to each other every now and then. Their hands linked together on the table

Sally and McQueen, lounging on Doc’s (and McQueen’s) old but comfy couch and trading conversation over some sitcom or another, McQueen’s legs resting over Sally’s lap while her head lay on his shoulder. An empty bowl of popcorn mixed with skittles resides on the coffee table

McQueen and Sally, sitting back to back on top of Sally’s Porsche, one struggling to stay awake until the other says something and vice versa. The sound of each other’s voice simultaneously lulls and energizes them

McQueen and Sally, biting their tongues after a heated argument, tears blurring his vision and choking her up. McQueen crumbles to the floor, sorry, sorry, and so sorry

Sally and McQueen, carefully meeting each other’s eyes as she kneels beside him, a silent apology passing between them before she falls into his arms. They both whisper it, back and forth, and stay there for a while

McQueen and Sally, hands swinging between them as they walk along Radiator Springs at twilight, one fumbling nervously with something in his pocket. He hopes she’ll say yes

Sally and McQueen, sobbing into each other because of course she said yes, shaking and laughing and clinging to each other like they can’t let go (they can’t). He picks her up and spins her through the air under the stars

McQueen and Sally, chatting excitedly on their spontaneous road trip, wedding plans passing between them through mouthfuls of fast food. He leans over to sip from her drink, eyes not leaving the road but ears attuned to her laughter

Sally and McQueen, modeling random outfit pieces and accessories in the boutique they ran into during their trip, taking turns to walk their makeshift runway. She draws him in for a kiss by the scarf he tried on before snatching it for herself, laughing at his sputtering smile

McQueen and Sally, curled together the night before the wedding because despite all the preparations to be done they can’t bear to be apart, mutually excited and nervous and wondering if the other wants them forever.

Do you want me forever?

Sally and McQueen. McQueen and Sally.

Sally, walking down the aisle on Doc’s arm, breathing through her racing heart. She sees him at the altar and purposefully slows her steps because if she doesn’t, she might just run and kiss him before they can say their vows.

McQueen, waiting with tense shoulders on the alter as Mater mutters excitement behind him, heart in his ears. But he sees her in her beautiful, flowing gown, and it’s all he can do not to run to her before she can join him.

Sally Carerra-McQueen and Monty Carerra-McQueen, sharing their first dance at the reception, silent tears of joy and love falling between them as they sway and talk and laugh and cry and whisper and sigh. He cups her face as they kiss

I want you forever.

[heartstringsbloom]

Scenario in which Yuu accidentally consumes a musical drink and can only communicate through song

(Italicized lines are singing—each one is taken from and references a song or musical number!)

She didn’t mean it. Honest! With a bad habit of procrastinating on homework, Yuu hadn’t slept much the night before. She had stumbled around Ramshackle with a blur in her eyes, thirsty and bleary and possibly late for class. She had thought she grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen, it had the familiar blue label and tasted normal enough.

How wrong she had been.

Her tongue had tingled, not quite burning but most definitely simmering, and her throat felt a little stuffed—as if it were fighting off mucus. She kept coughing during classes and when she wasn’t coughing she was discretely trying to clear imaginary phlegm from her throat. Anytime she was called upon to answer a question her voice cracked rather pathetically. It drew a few laughs from students, and more concerned looks from her friends. At some point Riddle had suggested she grab tea during lunch. Yuu agreed that it would help.

Except, her voice only grew more unsteady and unreliable. She could hardly control her inflection anymore, emphasizing the wrong words. Her volume fluctuated randomly; even Sebek had been a little put off by how suddenly she would raise her voice at times. Yuu had elected to stay silent after so long.

Maybe a good night’s rest would do the trick. She had been missing out on sleep lately. It was a comforting thought as she drifted into a fitful rest filled with the echoes of a song.

The next day she feels fine. Yuu tests her voice in the quiet of Ramshackle, hums approvingly to herself when it comes out normal enough, and goes about her day. She ignores the fuzzy sensation on the back of her tongue.

Lunch comes around soon enough. Grim picks off of Yuu’s plate and devours his own, meanwhile Ace and Deuce debate the practicality of backpacks vs. shoulder bags in school. Epel joins their table, handing Yuu an apple juice he had grabbed with his own.

“Thank you ~” she hums. Pauses. Strange.

Epel simply offers her a smile and digs into his meal. Yuu takes a slow sip of her juice, feeling that strange tickle in the back of her throat.

It takes her a moment to register a question put her way. Yuu blinks inquiringly at Ace.

“I said,” he begins, “what do you think about the new pie?”

He offers her a spoonful and she takes a bite, allowing his hand to hover under the utensil for her. She hums, feels her face pinch. A very sour lemon pie.

“There is something sweeter, everybody needs.”

Yuu sits back abruptly, eyes blown.

Ace laughs. “Okay, dramatic? What’s your suggestion for ‘something sweeter,’” he says, mimicking the musical tone.

“A spoonful of sugar ~” Yuu doesn’t let herself finish before her mouth clamps shut again. What?

Now the whole table is filling her with odd looks. Epel nudges her gently.

“Someone’s in a musical mood,” he teases, though he seems more curious than anything.

Yuu shakes her head gently, testing her voice again. “Nooo, no no no—no no no, no no no, no no no no, no no no no—“

Oh this can’t be happening.

“Why am I singing?”

She looks around the table urgently.

“Why am I singing?!”

“You’re. . .not doing it on purpose?” Jack says.

Yuu shakes her head.

“Real funny, Prefect.” Ace’s laugh is a little unsure.

“I don’t think she’s kidding,” Deuce says nervously.

“This is not what I want; this is not what I planned!” Yuu bleats, loud enough to draw the attention of other tables.

“Human!” Sebek barks. “If you’re going to project your voice, do it with intention!”

Yuu stands, slamming her hands on the table.

“I JUST GOTTA SAY, I DO NOT UNDERSTAND!”

Her voice seemed to erupt of its own accord.

“Something is really—something’s not right.” Yuu steps onto the table, why is she on the table. “Something’s not right!”

Each word that falls out she tries desperately to stop, but her tongue isn’t her own right now.

“SOS, please, someone help me!”

The rest of the table springs to action. Ace and Deuce hover around her, checking for any odd injury or something that looked out of the ordinary as they try to get her off of the table (now she’s dancing?!). Epel rushes to get her some water, hoping it would help somehow, and Jack vanishes somewhere in the direction of the classrooms, Sebek marching after him with words of confusion.

Soon enough half of the cafeteria if crowding their table, rather curious about the situation.

“What’s with all the singing? Can I join?” Kalim chirps from someone behind her. Yuu opens her mouth to deny but thinks better of it at the last second. Ace and Deuce are still trying to get her to step down, but she keeps pulling random dance moves that evade them (someone help?!)

Ace dodges a well-timed kick. “Something’s wrong with the Prefect!”

“Wrong how?” Riddle demands, his mere presence commanding everyone to part for him.

Yuu spins to face the young Housewarden.

“So she said ‘what’s the problem baby?’” She drops to a knee, hand outstretched to the poor boy. “What’s the problem? I don’t know! Well maybe I’m in love!”

Riddle recoils. “She’s lost it!”

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” Hums Rook, ever playful just by his tone, and Yuu can hear the smile. “What was that most enchanting voice? I felt my own heart soar to hear such a melody ~”

Before anyone can explain, Yuu practically falls into a certain huntsman’s arms, surprising even herself.

“I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me—!” She covers her mouth in a frenzy, voice muffled for a moment until it breaks through her own fingers, simultaneously panicked and passionate. “Baby there’s no other superstar you know that I’ll be—!”

Rook blinks down at her in shock, but it’s quickly overtaken by a palpable delight. He swings her through the air, laughing.

“Très bien! Let me hear your beautiful voice, mon Trickster!”

Yuu shakes her head furiously despite her still running voice, barricaded only by shoving her tie into her mouth. Her vocal chords burn.

It’s Vil who speaks next, passing her a pitying look. “For your sake, Prefect, I hope you aren’t trying to woo him. He won’t let it go.”

Yuu turns to the ever regal Vil, lips flying before she can stop them.

“HEY! I just met you, and this is crazy! But here’s my number!” She smiles nervously, trying to form an apology that won’t come through. “So call me maybe!”

Azul laughs. “Oh, you poor, unfortunate little thing. Would you like me to hang onto your voice for you until a solution is met?” His eyes betray his intentions, and Yuu shudders.

“Boy don’t try to front, I know just, just what you are!”

Azul pushes his glasses up with a hum, smiling. He’s shoved aside by a laughing Floyd.

“Let me at her! I wanna hear Shrimpy sing!”

Yuu shrinks into Rook’s overbearingly sweet hug, singing a dreadful “I ran so far away, I couldn’t get away.”

The enthusiastic hunter coos down at her.

“Down, naughty pups!” Professor Crewel barks out, storming through the crowd with Jack and Sebek in tow. “I can’t even see the child with you all hounding her!”

Suddenly Yuu is set down, dizzy enough to fall back into her seat, and Crewel kneels in front of her with something that looks like a medical kit. He takes out a small thermometer-looking tool.

“Open.”

Yuu shakes her head, lips sealed.

“Pup, I need to check you for something. Open.

Yuu utters a muffled “no,” covering her mouth with her hands for good measure. She was not going to let her voice betray her further, not with the soft peals of laughter surrounding her.

Suddenly she feels several deft fingers along her side, and she’s overcome with a ticklish sensation that has her howling with laughter. Crewel takes the narrow opportunity to slip the thermometer into her mouth.

Ruggie pops up on her other side with something of an apologetic smile, snickering.

She can’t find time to glare at him because the thermometer beeps. Crewel retrieves it with a frown.

“Just as I thought. A musical remedy.” He sighs. “It’s supposed to be taken only in the case of a lost or stolen singing voice.”

Azul snorts out a laugh, as Jade fixes him with a slightly amused look.

“However,” Crewel says pointedly, “we usually don’t have to worry about such instances. I imagine you weren’t aware of what you had taken. How did you even come into possession of it?”

Yuu doesn’t have a clue what something like that would even look like. Then she remembers the “water.”

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no no no no no—“

“What?” A panicked Adeuce ask in tandem.

“New and a bit alarming, who’d have ever thought that this could be.” she continues, the horror of her situation settling in.

Several pairs of eyes trade confusion.

“I’m such a fool, I can’t be free. . .” Yuu buries her face in her hands. This is humiliating.

“Yuu?” Epel tries.

“I can’t stop singing!” She cries. “Make it stop, make it stop, am I real or just a prop?!”

With a tired sigh Professor Crewel brings Yuu to her feet, speaking over her anguished one-woman musical.

“The effects usually last a few days, give or take. In the meantime, you should all at least save her dignity and not poke fun at the situation.”

He points a glare in the direction of Lilia, hovering somewhere in the background and not bothering to hide his laughter. Malleus stands beside him, awestruck at his child of man’s voice. A Diasomnia student snaps his fingers in front of the fae’s face, with no response.

Crewel continues. “All of you can return to your lunch. You’ve only a few minutes until the next bell. I’ll be escorting Yuu back to Ramshackle—do not follow—for her to at least agonize in private. Stay,” he threatens Rook, who practically prances after them. The hunter sighs, clutching his heart.

“Agony ~” he mourns.

Crewel leaves the cafeteria with a singing, crying Yuu, offering words of comfort, not that she hears them. Everyone else slowly returns to their prior meal.

A moment of silence passes before—

“I’M TRAPPED INSIDE A MUSICAL!”

Cater laughs nervously into his sparkling water. “She’ll be fine.”

“I’M NOT FINE—I’M NOT FIIIIIIINE—!”

Oh, everyone thinks collectively. Except for Epel, who actually says, “oh.”

Vil side-eyes the poor boy.

Ace: Prefect, why are you dancing?!

Yuu: *crying and flossing* I can’t stock boogie woogying!

[heartstringsbloom]

Coming from someone who hasn’t played through book 5 yet, do we think Vil is a really versatile actor? Like not doing roles that only align with his personality and character, but doing roles that are maybe silly or meek or outrageous. Do you think he’d be good at multiple accents, having studied them over the years? Can he do voice impressions?

I wanna know everyone’s thoughts bc this just interests me so much (and if this is a known fact about Vil that we find out later in-game then pls don’t spoil haha. Just personal headcanons!)

[heartstringsbloom]

Part 2 of Twst characters and what songs they would sing with Yuu/MC on karaoke night!

(This one leans a little more into shipping after the first two, no established relationship but each scenario sets it up)

Ramshackle trio—“Nobody Like U” from Turning Red

• Great energy, Ace and Deuce and Prefect bestie moment ftw, they have a whole choreographed dance (that Deuce is maybe struggling a little to follow but he’s trying), they’re just having fun and they smile at one another near the end, the lyrics true to heart for all three

Ramshackle trio pt 2—“Cruisin for a Bruisin” from Teen Beach Movie

• Okay so this comes as a surprise to Deuce and Prefect, as Ace chooses the song for them, and the other two have to stifle their giggles because they always dance to the song at Ramshackle for funsies so the performance comes second nature. Deuce is the one who opens, Yuu takes the bubblegum cherry pop line, and Ace follows with “I went to the drive in,” and my gosh they’re just owning it. Ace hands them each a pair of sunglasses and the stage is theirs. Ofc they strike the coolest group pose at the end

Vil/Yuu—“Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray

• They start rather neutral and almost indifferent, singing the same song but not really singing together (Yuu feels a little awkward, as if the song itself wasn’t already beyond her league), but then Vil lifts her hand to his lips upon the chorus and at once they melt into harmony, eyes together stolen. He pulls her along by an invisible string, endlessly charmed and amused by her puppy dog compliance. She doesn’t know what’s happened, he’s aware of her thumping heart but saves her the embarrassment, but at the end of the song the gentlest kiss brushes her cheek from behind. By the time she’s come back to herself Vil is already seated again, engaged in light conversation with Rook. She misses how the elegant dorm leader’s gaze tracks her with a fond smile.

Riddle/Yuu—“Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga

• Riddle has to be downright pestered into going on stage. He’s all eye rolls and impatient huffs as he mutters at Yuu to just pick a song. She hits shuffle, nothing in mind otherwise, and feels her tummy turn when the song starts. Yuu doesn’t expect the Housewarden to humor her, diving into the song half-heartedly, but she’s caught off guard when Riddle actually joins and practically shows her up, not that it’s his intention (or maybe it is). Think Halestorm cover of bad romance with that trend of character B catching character A off guard with the sheer power of their voice. Yuu has to swallow her nerves when he fixes her with a sharp gaze during the chorus, has to will her voice out of a stutter with every step he takes towards her. Through her slight panic because wow is Riddle good, her heart flutters endlessly. It’s when Riddle tosses the faintest of smirks her way during the final chorus, singing effortlessly and taking apart her every slip up or missed word, does Yuu feel that she truly is caught in a bad romance (is it so bad?) he leaves her gawking on stage at the end of the song, something pleased and humorous tickling his eye.

Rook/Yuu—“Paparazzi” by Lady Gaga

• It’s the song Rook immediately grabs on their turn, all too eager as he sweeps Yuu into his arms upon the first beat. He has her all the way through the first chorus, but then before he can snatch the second one Yuu turns the song on him in a blink. She fists a hand in his shirt and draws him close enough to see the shock in his eyes, daring him to push her away as she all but confesses to him through the song, a lovesick excitement in her eyes that has Rook positively speechless. Yuu barely gives him room to sing after that, reveling in the chance to keep him quiet for a moment, and at the end of the song she’s all too satisfied by the way he’s yet to regain his voice (and perhaps a little thrilled to be the one to render him speechless)

[heartstringsbloom]

Twst characters and what songs they would sing with Yuu/MC on karaoke night!

(Can be read as romantic or platonic, implied fem!Yuu!)

Kalim/Yuu—“Stupid in Love” by Max ft Huh Yunjin

• Very fun and high energy, can be romantic or platonic but they’re both just having a blast, Kalim probably picks Yuu up at some point and spins her around. She’s laughing as he does, and they’re both flushed and smiling and out of breath by the end of the song

Cater/Yuu—“It’s Always a Good Time” by Carly Rae Jepson and Owl City

• The energy, very fun, they’re so cute and smiley and they prob hold hands as they’re just jumping up and down singing. They perform as if they’ve been doing this their whole lives and it’s just such a great time when they’re on stage

Jamil/Yuu—“Rewrite The Stars” from The Greatest Showman

• I don’t know, I just feel this one for them. I personally see Jamil being hesitant about singing at first so Yuu is the one who opens, and maybe they’re switching the vocal roles throughout the song which should be less cohesive but it works well because of how naturally they do it (An excuse to have Jamil sing the line “we’re bound to break and my hands are tied” at the end). They’re surprisingly vulnerable during the song, Jamil especially, and Yuu maybe sees a glimpse of longing that hasn’t been seen before (for what is not immediately clear, but his eyes are not entirely hers during the song). They end the song, foreheads together, and Yuu sees a whisper of tears in his eyes as he almost looks through her

Lilia/Yuu—“Levitating” by Dua Lipa

• Again just a fun time, Lilia is floating around with Yuu during the song, they’re just smiling the whole time! He does this thing where he walks her up an invisible set of stairs and it looks magical, and she’s so confused at first but trusts him enough to go with it, only for him to take a leap with her in his arms during the chorus and she screams before getting back into the song, albeit a little shaken (she’s still smiling)

Trey/Yuu—“Love is an Open Door” from Frozen

• No explanation for this, but I imagine that the two just hit shuffle play and run with it. It’s very cute and a little silly but they sound great together, very committed to the bit, especially at the end during the “Will you marry me” line. Yuu, for dramatic effect, falls into his arms when she says yes, all while Trey is on one knee and he has to brace them both lest them fall back and he’s just laughing

Azul/Yuu—“Kiss The Girl” from TLM

• Okay this might be cheating, but I was so touched by the Kiss The Girl dance on Dancing With The Stars 33. I imagine Azul and Yuu singing it with much the same tone, something very gentle and emotional. It takes some convincing Azul to get him out of his shell (haha) but once he’s on stage he puts full trust in Yuu as they trade lyrics. By the end of the song she’s the one crying, she doesn’t know why, and Azul just holds her face and whispers reassurances that he tries to also convince himself of. There’s something unspoken and unsure within them both and maybe a conversation to be had later.

That’s all for now! I would like to do more if I find songs for the other characters!

[heartstringsbloom]

Scenario in which Yuu, utter romantic of her class, falls head over heels into Night Raven College. She can’t make this or that of her whereabouts, but her heart flutters and flitters and floats away at the overwhelmingly dreamy, terrifying (this isn’t right) atmosphere. She brushes past a yammering Grim and his cries for her uniform just to take everything in, downright frightened by the place and positively smitten with the world, much to her dread. She wanders around campus, just a couple of steps beyond Grim who sputters for attention, and all but crumbles in the library at how vast of a collection.

As she reaches for a fairytale of some kind a crow man urges her out of the building and into some other, and Yuu blinks longingly at the retreating library and potential fantasies, feels her heart skip pleasantly when a fairy breezes by. Her palms are cold.

When the man—Crowley, and she tastes it on her tongue a few times, throat sore, enraptured by the mask—deposits her into a room of countless attendees, Yuu can hardly move. It’s like a painting, she marvels to herself, a fool in the midst of unbelievable beauty. The looks she receives are conflicted, amused, suspicious, angered—and it isn’t until she’s blinking against a bright light that she realizes she had fainted.

Grim hovers over her, impatient and small and maybe even bite-able, she teases, snapping playfully at him with no real malice but he leaps back anyway. They’re in some uncertain room with windows and furniture at disarray. It’s a mess. It’s fascinating.

Grim beats his paws against her three times, and at once a cloud lifts. Yuu stands on shaking legs, cradling her head. She fully takes in the room. What is she doing here?

The smaller of the two snorts. Took her long enough.

Yuu shakes her head lightly to clear the fog. Romance curls in her mind, persistent and inviting, and Yuu holds it by the hand but simply leads this time, is not led.

Ace, he calls himself, all lopsided smiles and knowing eyes. Yuu lets him sway her but Grim keeps her in check, absolutely snarling at the Heartslabyul boy. She can’t fathom why, but then he’s laughing at them and she doesn’t get the joke.

Crowley bids them stay on account of hers and Grim’s teamwork with Ace and Deuce (Deuce is a gem), declaring them one student, and Yuu is perfectly content with that arrangement, though she can hardly remember what led to it.

Yuu is perfectly content, curled up on a beaten up couch in a hauntingly quiet Ramshackle. Mind racing against every possible obstacle to getting home, trying to fight off the encroaching fuzz of sweetness and beauty. She may be a romantic soul but something isn’t right, and it flares up whenever someone uses magic or she’s in the vicinity. She can’t think straight most of the time, when before she could at least form a thought. Every effort at coherency makes her heart pull viciously.

Something fights to pull her under, and it’s all Yuu can do to stay afloat in a sea of heavy pink.

[heartstringsbloom]

What wouldn’t she give? Ariel ponders that so often it tides through her dreams, waking her even in sleep. The human world has her by the fins, encapsulates her very heart and her very mind and her very everything, so deeply the ocean feels shallow. Especially with a land above that won’t evade her curiosity, as if asking that she study of it all she can. Her only chance to ever know its wonders locked in imagination and her grotto.

As she peeks through the surface just to feel the Sun’s warmth, something in her wilts. Could she ever touch the sky with more than her eyes? Sealed to one half of a pair so blue, red meeting their separation, she considers the open freedom. The Sun smiles down at her, Hello, Ariel, and she lazes back on the water to hear about the its day.

Closing her eyes against loving brightness, Ariel folds her hands behind her head. Maybe she could stay here forever. Resting within the moment between heart and home. Or maybe they aren’t so different.

Still she sighs and bids the Sun goodbye, promising the same time tomorrow, and melts back under the sea.

It feels like being welcomed back with an embrace. One that says she was missed, she is home, she will nerve be alone. She believes it. She clings to it, swims home to see her father and sisters and Flounder and Sebastian.

Yet still can’t she forget the Sun, smiling down at her with a patient promise of perhaps you could have both.

[heartstringsbloom]

If I had a nickel for every time a character with a red and yellow color scheme started out as self-centered and concerned only with fame/power before eventually learning the importance of friendship and being accepted into a friendly community, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[heartstringsbloom]

(Second part to my Cars au story featuring McQueen and his sister Maisie, who’s my oc. TW for vomiting but nothing graphic, brief use of words “emptiness” and “numb” to describe how a character is feeling at one point, and crying. But things get better. This is a long one, hope you enjoy ^^)

The theater roared, applause and cheers overwhelming the space. Maisie’s golden-brown dress melted as she bowed. Heart in her ears, she was soaring.

It was what she had always dreamed of. Somehow it didn’t feel as shocking as she always thought. When she dreamt from a young age of being on stage, she imagined that it would be the most stifling of moments. But in the middle of the dream—could you imagine?—it was like being home.

“Home,” she whispered under the lights and love. “I’m home, aren’t I?”

Home.

~~~

Wasn’t she?

~~~

“Home.” Monty chewed the inside of his cheek as Harv led him to the hauler. Mack waved from where he leant on the trailer.

“Good thing, huh? Nothing to get in your way this time. This next race will make or break your whole career, kid.”

Good thing. Monty smiled that perfect smile that taught him adoration. Taught him success and how to think about his future instead of looking back.

~~~

Good thing, right?

Dinoco, here we come.

~~~

“Home,” the crowd murmured. “Home.”

It was there at the forefront of her mind, always was. Home was them.

“Home,” Mom said. She didn’t see her mom.

Home was them.

Monty took her hand.

“You’re not home.” Maisie’s throat felt dry as she spoke. The crowd was gone, everything dark. “When are you coming home?”

He was silent beside her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, ashamed at how much she missed him.

Home.

“Monty—“ She couldn’t see through her tears. She pulled her hand from his to run through her hair, shaky. Her curls were almost as unruly as his, though she had done her hair so neatly.

Monty, I need you to come home.

Monty, where are you?

“Come home!” She seethed until dissolving into sobs. “Just come back home!”

He stared down at her on her knees. She couldn’t see his eyes through his racing helmet.

I miss you.

“Monty!” Maisie woke up in a cold sweat.

The dream clung to her beneath the chilled air. Her lungs worked to get anything of a breath back in, and it was only once she registered the scratchy bedsheets and night-filled windows would she sigh and fall into her hands.

That was the third night in a row. Sleep ran from her any chance it could. She couldn’t convince it to stick around as nightmares constantly gave chase.

(“—Supposedly sleeping, according to Mr. McQueen’s hauler.”)

A dry weight sat behind her eyes, weak but persistent. She didn’t think she could cry anymore. It had been the hardest she’d cried since—

Mom’s soothing voice wrapped around her mind, guiding her breathing in a controlled rhythm. In, out. Count in, 1-2-3-4. . .out. Again.

Keep in time, like a song. Good job, dollop.

Maisie opened her eyes to a warm day, face stained with tears.

~~~

He weaved through the party, eyes set on the one still guest. She was lovelier than any midnight dance. Stubborn and testy as she was. “Miss Maisie, you’ve sat in the shadows for quite some time.”

Had she not eventually responded, he would have figured she missed his voice. The music was so loud. Though he had learned some time ago how impressive her hearing was.

“I’ve gotten comfortable,” she said into her drink.

“Why stay? I could make all of your dreams come true.”

She hummed, nodding about the room as if she had just heard about a sunny forecast. “I’m good. Thanks for the offer.”

He frowned. “You can’t be.”

“Oh.” She took a sip. “I see.”

Her drink became her focus once more and he sighed, irritation nipping at his ankles. When she still wouldn’t look at him he made his very sophisticated, very tight leave.

Her loss.

~~~

Maisie blew soft bubbles into her glass, eyes shutting when his footsteps faded. The room played out around her all the while. Heart in her ears, though she tried not to feel so out of sorts.

After-parties were a drag.

~~~

Ugh, after-parties were such a drag.

“You only say that because you’re having to smooze it up with sponsors.” Sally twirled his hair loosely, easing him down so she could speak in his ear. “And fix your face. You look miserable and you’re gonna feel miserable if photos come out showing it.”

“So what,” Lightning muttered stubbornly. “Let them see how much I don’t want to be here.” Adrenaline ran through him still. He wished these events wouldn’t follow so closely after a race, and instead give him some time to breathe and come down from the rush.

“It’s been 10 minutes, stickers.”

“10 minutes too long.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek and like that, melted his disdain. The discomfort crawling under his skin fizzled out.

“You’ve got me.”

“I’ve got you,” he returned contentedly. On the rare occasion Sally could make it out to a race, the parties were much more bearable. She held this calming effect that always soothed him. Being with her was like being with a lake in the quiet of a starlit night.

They were soon joined by Doc, who hugged Lightning and wrapped an arm around Sally. She slipped the glass from Doc for herself. He rolled his eyes, looking not the least bit surprised.

She pursed her lips in curiosity. “This is water.”

“Sure is. Legend tells it’s good for the body.”

She hummed, returning the glass to her lips with a murmur. “Water’s my best friend.”

Doc fixed his gaze to Lightning. “How’re you holding up?”

Lightning rolled his shoulders and hopped a few times in place. “Grinning and bearing it.”

“Grin more,” Sally chirped. He stuck his tongue out at her.

Doc huffed his amusement. “Think I saw Cal and Bobby by the food.”

As he usually did at such news, McQueen lit up.

“Oh, perfect! But—“he faltered, blue eyes already missing his blue sweet—“well, I can’t just leave you, Sal.”

Sally smiled at him, ever endeared. “Go have fun. Doc needs some company anyway, don’t you, Doc?” It wasn’t really a question, and she didn’t really let him respond before she dragged him towards their crew. Sally blew a kiss in her wake.

Lightning caught it with a grin, a chuckle slipping through as he locked it in his heart. He scanned the room for his friends.

He spotted the top of Cal’s fluffy platinum blond over the crowd and made his way towards the growing laughter and familiar sound of Bobby teasing their tallest friend. The dread of earlier mingling melted away immediately.

~~~

It was something-past midnight when Maisie slumped through the door and kicked her shoes off. She still felt the night’s adrenaline and music, not that she wasn’t ready for it to fade. Parties were too touchy-mingly. Maybe if she’d had someone to burden with her displeasure, she would have actually enjoyed herself.

Maisie snickered to herself, under her breath in the starry solitude of the window. She was such a drama queen.

As always, her favorite pajamas were perfect when she was fresh out of the shower with nowhere to be in the morning. Yet she tried to ignore how the day wouldn’t pass before she ached to be back on set. She didn’t even have a major role. But the moment she was in character, she always wanted to give it her all.

It was laughable how closely she held a background role, and then it wasn’t. Every part matters, she had told herself since childhood. Sometimes she let the comparisons bleed into her thoughts, though. Then she would shape up, toss her hair, and tell the doubt off. Because, really: the audacity.

With a comfy sigh she slipped under the scratchy sheets. Her eyes drifted to the popcorn ceiling: beige. Not her eyes, the ceiling. Her eyes were. . .a color she never understood.

Monty always compared her eyes to the woods. They weren’t green and pretty like the trees. Just brown and boring. Like bark. Like something she never understood.

But he always said that tree bark held years and years of value. And it was strong, like her. Did strength mean getting by without her family? Did not family make you stronger?

Maisie turned into the pillow, eyes out the rainy window. Eventually they grew heavy.

The last thing she heard was her brother laughing while mom fussed at him for tracking mud in the house. He was so quick she didn’t stop him.

~~~~

“Okay—okay.” Lightning held up a finger before Doc could get a word in. “In my defense, I didn’t see the rain.”

“You didn’t see the rain?”

“It’s clear, isn’t it?”

Doc pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kid, there’s mud on my floor.”

“I know.” Lightning hit him with his famous McQueen pout. “But I said I was sowwy.”

Sally poked her head over the back of the couch. “He’s got you there, Doc.”

“Sally,” Doc sighed. She giggled and turned back to the tv.

Lightning opened his arms. “Can we hug it out?”

Doc stared at him long and hard. Only when the kid actually started tearing up did Doc roll his eyes.

Lightning chuckled as they embraced. “You know I’m really sorry, Doc. I promise I’ll clean it.”

“Oh you’re gonna clean it.” Doc actually cracked a smile. “Come on. It can wait til after dinner.” He called over his shoulder, “your girlfriend’s starving.”

“What? Nooo,” Sally objected around a mouthful of chips.

“I said no snacks on my couch, Selena.”

“Oh really, Doc? My full name?” Sally shook her head and sent her boyfriend a wink on her way to the kitchen, mouthing: he never means it.

Lightning snorted. The difference between him and Sal was that she never got crumbs on the furniture. Doc still makes him stand in the kitchen with snacks.

~~~~

“I’m telling you, girl, it’s—Maisie.” Candice shook her. “Maisie.”

“Relax before I spill the coffee.” Maisie rolled her eyes, tone earnest despite her muted expression. “Look, I’m excited for you. I am. It’s a huge opportunity.”

“A HUGE opportunity!” Candice said with inflection that made Maisie proud. How you say something made all the difference. “Coconut, I’m going to star in the movie of the year! I’m going to be famous!”

Maisie moved farther from Candice before she could jostle her much more, setting the coffee near the director’s chair. She scanned the set for him but came up empty. Oh well. Hopefully it wouldn’t get cold.

It was a standard sci-fi set. Crew were rearranging the rocket ship props as actors hung around the food area. They were on the 27th take. Actor 1 (the protagonist) kept forgetting his lines, though he was running on a few hours of sleep. Actors 2 and 4 were told to emote more, but not told to make it sincere. Actor 3 had recently replaced the previous actor 3, who had pulled out for personal reasons, but new actor 3 was shy and kept mumbling. The director had simply cut when he’d had enough, rubbing his temples and tossing a coffee order somewhere.

Maisie had happened to be in that somewhere.

“Maisie? Coconut? Girl, are you, like, here?”

“Hm?” She turned back to her friend, who was pouting pretty loudly. “Nice pout. You’re good at showing emotion.”

Candice tilted her head, bubblegum hair following through like a curtain. “Thank you?”

“So what’s the movie about?” Maisie took a sip of her water while watching the actors get back in place.

“Something about racing. Daddy says it’s because of how popular the sport is these days.”

Maisie spit her water back in the glass to avoid choking.

“Oh yeah?” She croaked. There were napkins nearby. She dabbled at her mouth, heart in her ears. Throat sore.

“Mhm! You know that really popular one in red? Well, the director wanted the movie to be about him.” Candice bat her eyes with a pleased smile. “Daddy convinced him to change some stuff around so I could be the star, though.”

Maisie nodded slowly, keeping her face neutral. “And so you’re playing. . .” She cleared her throat to hide how her voice wavered. “The ‘one in red’?”

Candice laughed sweetly as she filled her lemon water. “Oh gosh, no. Red is so not my color. It’s a completely new, perfectly pink character with a backstory inspired by my own life.”

Maisie hummed. She felt cold. Flighty.

Get it together.

“Which, speaking of, is it not totally crazy how he got, like, lost?”

“What, to the race?” Monty never did have the best sense of direction.

“Yeah! No one’s heard from him since yesterday.”

Hold on. “He—what are you talking about?”

Candice waved her glass in the air, splashing water on the floor. “It was all over the news this morning! On daddy’s paper, the radio in the limo. . .”

“Candice.” Please, please let it not be true. “What do you mean no one’s heard from him?”

Her friend looked confused. “He’s. . .like, missing? I guess? His driver lost him on the road.” She put a hand on Maisie’s shoulder. “Are you okay? You’re super flushed.”

No. No no no no no.

Maisie reached into her pocket with a shaky hand and managed to pull her phone out. It took a few tries to type some things in the search bar, her fingers kept stuttering, oh gosh—

There. The first result on the main page.

“BREAKING: Piston Cup rookie racer ‘Lightning McQueen’ reported missing.”

No NO.

Article after article.

“Rookie sensation lost on the road.”

“McQueen goes Missing: hauler without answer.”

“WHERE IS MCQUEEN??”

She shook her head. She couldn’t see through the tears.

“Maisie?” Candice said worriedly. Somewhere.

“I—I need to—“ Maisie pressed a hand to her own mouth as something heavy built in her chest. She sucked in a breath and walked quickly through blurred out faces.

Where’s the door.

“Maisie?!”

Her feet picked up as a sob forced it’s way out of her. She needed to get out.

“MAISIE!” Familiar heeled feet chased her. Maisie didn’t stop until she fell through a bathroom stall door and on her knees in time to be sick.

~~~~

“You and your brother will always be there for each other, okay?” Mom dried her hands as Maisie put the last few dishes away.

“Yeah, mama, but he made me so mad.”

“I know, dollop.” Mom pushed some of her curls back so they were looking at each other. “But he’s your family. That’s forever, baby. Dolls come and go.”

The corners of Maisie’s mouth shook. “But she was mine. . .”

“And that car was his. You can’t go breaking his stuff because he accidentally broke yours.” Mom rubbed her cheek and stood. “Now go say sorry. Monty said it about a dozen times.”

“Well he should have anyway,” Maisie sassed. But when her mother gave her a look, she withered.

With a huff Maisie dragged her feet out the kitchen. It wasn’t fair. That was her favorite toy, and Monty had just been so careless. He never looked where he was going. He—

Ow!

“Oh! Um—sorry.”

Maisie groaned at the pain flooding her forehead. From the floor she looked up as Monty shuffled uncomfortably. He held a hand out for her, eyes elsewhere. Maisie, still bitter, sighed through her nose and stood on her own. Monty visibly deflated.

“So. . . I’m sorry for breaking Delilah.”

“I know.” How many times was he going to say it?

“I could fix her! If you want?” He looked hopeful. It did nothing to sway her.

Maisie turned away before her resolve could crack. She was still angry and he wouldn’t change that.

After a while of staring at the carpet as Monty stared at her, she heard him walk away. She tried to ignore his sniffling.

~~~

It had been hours since she heard about his disappearance. Candice had held her hair back as she emptied her stomach in the bathroom. Maisie never stopped feeling sick, but she had heaved herself dry.

All she could do was lay in bed. Candice had tried to invite her over, “‘if it would make you feel better?”’

Maisie had declined. She was unsure if it would hurt more to be with others or alone. She was unsure if this was hurt, or just emptiness.

She felt numb.

Her favorite pajamas were folded neatly in her suitcase, forgotten in lieu of just some sweats and a t-shirt. She had barely gotten through a shower, going through the trouble only because she had spent well enough time slouched on the bathroom floor. Candace had insisted she get cleaned up.

How could this—

She curled into herself, hiding from the world. From everything.

How could this happen?

(“I promise I’ll call every chance I get—and visit, too, when I can!”

Maisie wiped her eyes, disguising the action as fixing her makeup. She was good at pretending. Monty smiled sadly. He always saw through her act.

“I’ll hold you to that.”)

A sob broke through. It felt all too familiar.

(“It’s been months, mama.” She hid her face in mom’s shoulder as fingers played through her short curls. “Not a peep.”

“Give it some more time, baby. It’s a busy career.” Mom tucked a kiss in her hair, the action equal parts loving and teasing. “You’ll understand when you’re the biggest actress there ever was, hm?”

Maisie giggled. “When I make it big, I’ll just buy a house for us all to live in together.”

“Yeah?” The calming embrace made her sleepy. Mama said something else but Maisie missed it, probably. She was lost in the peace of it all.”)

Maisie hardly cried.

Tears soaked the pillow.

(She laid in bed, staring past the hallway to a door that hadn’t been opened in years. That same cartoon racing poster was still there. It had faded over time.)

She didn’t know how long she laid there, crying openly in the hotel room. Her brother was missing and she hadn’t spoken to him in several years. Her brother was missing and if she would ever escape the guilt, she still worried that it was too late. She should have called.

Why hadn’t she called?

In her hand she clutched a little toy car.

It was all she had left.

~~~

(As Mack drove on through the night, fighting sleep at the kid’s demand, a little red phone lit up in the trailer with its 20th missed call. Another rang through a few seconds later. No one answered.)

~~~

“Hey, Monty. I. . .”

“You, uh—you’ve been missing for a few days. No one knows where you are. Could you maybe. . .show up?”

“Look. This is ridiculous. Where are you?”

“Please come back. Please be okay.”

“I miss you.”

She called every night. He never answered.

~~~

Mack pulled the kid into a hug, drowning out the crowd. Lightning was grateful for the embrace and the relief from all the noise.

“I’m real happy to have you back, bud. You gave everyone a real scare.”

Lightning couldn’t help his laugh. “Sorry I pushed you so hard.”

The hand rubbing up and down his back let him know that Mack didn’t hold anything against him. His past actions had been forgiven. Left behind alongside his ego. Lightning pulled away before tears could bleed into Mack’s collar.

“Aw, it’s all good, kid.” Mack ruffled his hair until Lightning was batting at the hand, giggling and wiping his eyes. “Sorry for letting you get stranded.”

McQueen smiled softly. “It’s all good.”

Suddenly Mack lit up with recognition. “Oh, hey! Here—“ he dug through his pocket and pulled out McQueen’s phone. “You left it in the trailer. Though it’s probably seen better days.”

The younger took it. It had a few cracks more than he had left it. Lightning wondered if one of his many, many trinkets fell onto the device. A small part of him said to toss some of that stuff out.

“Thanks. Probably time to just get a new one,” he pocketed it. “I, uh. I think I’m good not talking to Harv just yet, anyway.”

“Think he’s got an earful for ya?” Concern filled Mack’s voice.

“Nah.” Maybe. “He probably won’t like the news, though.”

“Oh?”

Lightning turned over his shoulder. The people of Radiator Springs, laughing and enjoying the moment. Good, honest, caring people who had come to support him. The only one missing was that head of blue. He couldn’t wait to see her. To spend a lot more time in the town that had changed his heart. This—they were his new home. It was a warmth he hadn’t felt in some time.

Yeah, Harv wasn’t gonna be too happy.

“I’ll tell you later. Come on, I want you to meet everyone.”

~~~

If nothing else, the view was amazing.

“Miss Maisie,” said a smooth voice. Unfortunately, one she recognized.

She sipped her coffee. “Mr. Tell.”

True to his name, Mr. Tell always had something to say. Maisie once wondered if perhaps that had informed his title, or vice versa.

“Funny we keep running into each other. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were following me.”

“Well, you know I just can’t stay away,” she returned with a politeness she didn’t feel. Tell was a friend to the director. Maisie always had to play nice. “Party was canceled?”

“Not hardly. I noticed a certain golden shadow was missing.”

She hid a sigh in her cup when he sat across from her.

“What’s got you so forlorn? You never miss a party. Til the last hour, you’re ever present and engaged,” he told her as if she didn’t know.

Despite how she felt about them, Maisie always made sure to attend every event and after-party. As small as her roles were, she had a responsibility to interact. This had been the first time she skipped.

The events of the past week threatened to spill through. But Maisie was nothing if not good at hiding.

“Sometimes a change of scenery is nice. Especially when there’s a good deal on coffee.”

Mr. Tell snorted. “I sure do enjoy bad coffee on a warm evening. Shame about that racer, huh?”

Her nails dug into the styrofoam. His chuckle was poison.

“You know, I saved that offer for you. Your career would take the skies with a good agent. I could be that for you.”

“Maybe.” Nah.

“So it’s a yes?” His hope was both amusing and annoying.

“You’re too kind, but I’m good here.” As she has said more than a few times before.

“Are you?”

“Can’t beat this coffee.”

He dipped to catch her eyes, silent. Despite the sunglasses on her face, she felt exposed.

He sucked in a breath. “Director’s been talking about letting some of you go.”

Maisie froze. She tried to control her voice, hide the tremble.

“That so.”

He nodded. “Too many faces in the crowd. It’s not his vision—his words, of course.” Sympathetically, he added, “he just doesn’t see what’s in front of him.”

Carefully, in a controlled motion, she turned towards the city for comfort. “Well. Seeing what’s in front of him is his job.”

“Yeah, but he’s not the best at it, is he?” It shouldn’t have, but the care in his voice made her eyes mist. Made it feel real.

When she said nothing, he reached out to pin her chin between two fingers. She tugged away before he could. He sighed.

“Look, Miss Maisie—you could have it all. I’m telling you that you could have it all.”

“And that’s up to you?” She challenged in a watery voice. She grimaced at how abrupt she had responded. Too much. Her control was slipping.

His eyes softened, too kind for what she was comfortable with being faced. “Course. I know all the right people, the right companies. I’d put you at the top. It’s what you deserve, don’t you?”

She stared at him as if he would break her heart, should she hand it off. She held herself by a string, as she was so good at doing.

The problem with strings, and holding them so often, though, was their fragility.

“It is what I deserve.” She stood. He followed, looking bright.

“Atta girl. I already have a contract. Give me the night and I’ll have it to you by tomorrow afternoon. Good?”

Maisie tipped the drink down her throat. The city fell on her back, emboldening her. When she felt as though she had lost everything, it was there. She still had the lights.

With nothing else, it was home.

Their hands came together in a firm agreement. His was large and sure. She didn’t meet the strength of his grip, but he said nothing of it. She could tell he was plenty content.

Maybe eventually, she would be too.

“I won’t sign anything.” Not yet. Call her desperate, but she wasn’t stupid.

His smile was silk. “Course. You’re smarter than that, Miss Maisie. We can explore all the terms and conditions as much as you feel comfortable to.”

She inhaled deeply, relishing the night air. It felt like a last taste of freedom, in a way, though this was all her choice. A prisoner of her own surrender.

~~~

“That all?”

Maisie nodded, trading cash for the bag of snacks. She had a long drive to the airport. Candice had offered her dad’s limo, along with her bubbly company, but Maisie hadn’t really been willing to spend such a long time in an enclosed space with the one person who would be inquisitive enough to poke at her resolve. Candice had already seen her break down. That was more than enough vulnerability for Maisie.

Her phone buzzed. Checking it, she saw a text that read “‘be safe! Miss you already!’”

She cracked a smile. Candice was a sweet person. She hoped her friend would never lose that.

“‘Miss you to pieces, I’ll call when I land, literally freezing here, wish this place had hot coffee.’”

Send.

Her phone buzzed several times soon after (no doubt separate responses to each part of the message), but Maisie had her hands full with the bag and her (very cold) espresso. She thanked the cashier, shook her head when offered the change (“hands are full, keep it.”) and pivoted to walk out.

Then she heard it.

The small TV behind the register had been nearly mute the whole time. She had only noticed it when paying. But the voice was unmistakable. She couldn’t ignore it if she tried.

“‘It’s all in the past,’” her brother said in a kind, earnest voice unlike every other one of his media appearances. It was so like when he was home, Maisie felt herself choke up. “‘I’m starting anew. Someone real important to me taught me better.’”

Maisie tensed. Who was so important to him all of a sudden?

“‘So does this new start entail any other changes?’” The reporter said.

Monty nodded with a grin that could blind the sun. “‘I’m setting up my new headquarters in Radiator Springs.’”

“‘Radiwhat?’”

Maisie was already on her phone, searching up the place. She managed to balance her stuff in one arm, drink under her chin. Meanwhile TV-Monty went on about a cute little town off the map—made sense why she couldn’t find anything—that he had made a home in.

And that was where Maisie faltered.

Home, huh?

The cashier hummed. “Been a minute since I’ve heard about that place.”

Maisie’s head shot up. “Do you know where it is?”

“Over in Arizona.” She gave Maisie a look that bordered amusement and sarcasm. “Bit of a drive coming from here.”

Maisie deflated. That was on the opposite coast. Was she actually hoping to see him? Like, now? Well. . .

Yeah, she kind of was. Gosh she wanted—no, she was determined to see him. Especially after that scare. He was far away, but he was right there. Her brother had what sounded like a—

She let out a heavy breath.

A home. An actual home, he had admitted. Happily.

Had he moved on? What if he didn’t want to see her?

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” she hissed to herself. That was her brother, though miles and miles west. It was pretty funny, actually. He had always felt lightyears away since leaving. Like if she tried to reach him, they wouldn’t even be in the same galaxy. Was that dramatic?

“Yes,” she whispered to no one, eyes low though she couldn’t help it. The cashier had already begun helping another customer as Maisie stood at war with herself, nursing a coffee too cold to enjoy. Hardly warmed by the gas station walls.

Eventually she found the sense to at least go have her crisis in the car. It didn’t make the situation any easier, but at least she could use the heater.

She grimaced upon first sip. Maybe she should just toss the drink. For now she reached into the store bag for the hot chips she was looking forward to. Digging through the mess of packaging and wrappers, she eventually pulled them out. Blue.

You’ve got to be kidding.

Maisie fell into her hand. How had she managed to grab cool ranch Doritos of all things?

Monty would usually laugh at her, commenting about how she needed to ‘get off of autopilot.’ He always had her preferred spicy chili chips in hand for exactly those moments. She would usually stick her tongue out very not childishly as he grabbed at some red licorice. A candy she couldn’t stand but he somehow went wild for.

Sighing, she tossed the chips in the back, unwilling to brave the cold again. She would just have to deal.

In the meantime, she pulled out her phone and opened the navigation.

Almost 40 hours to Arizona. No clue on how to get to Radiator Springs. Would she even find it?

“It’s times like these when one must improvise,” she muttered under her breath. Back inside she went.

“Excuse me?” She asked the cashier in a sing-song. “Could you—I mean, if you don’t mind. How would I find Radiator Springs?”

The lady’s brows shot up. Maisie inclined her head just so, confirming the silent question.

Nodding in an impressed manner, the cashier leaned on her elbows, gaze tilting upwards. Her thin frames slid down her nose. “I haven’t been in some time. You might wanna try asking around that area. I remember a long road into town, so might run into someone soon enough.”

Maisie nodded, wondering if she was really about to do this. “Thanks. Could I get $20 on 4, by the way?”

She paused in the middle of gathering her wallet. Her heart sped up.

“Do you have any licorice?”

She was really about to do this.

~~~

“You almost done, buddy?” Mater asked for the 17th time.

Lightning sighed through his nose, losing against the chuckle that spilled through. “Mater, this is the best part. Just let me finish the chapter.”

“But you said that about three times already!”

Lightning paused. “Well, those have all been the best part.”

Mater pouted. “You ain’t no fun when you’re stuck in them books.”

“Sorry,” Lightning said with an apologetic smile.

While Mater went back to working on the car he had been tasked with by a tourist, admitting that he might as well pass the time productively until the two of them could go tractor tipping, McQueen dove back into his book.

Alice in Wonderland used to be nothing to him. He had never understood the nonsense of it all: random rabbits scurrying by; mean hatters at tea parties; queens that played croquet using flamingos. The story would just give him a headache and he’d go back to running around outside while Maisie kept reading, absolutely enthralled.

Monty smiled. She had always told him that it wasn’t ‘supposed to make sense, it was about the whimsy of it all,’ or something. She would always look so content reading it. The memory of her smile warmed him.

The book really was charming, now that had taken the time to enjoy it. Even if it still didn’t make sense. He wished he could tell her how it had grown on him.

So many unmade phone calls and missed visits sat between them. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she probably had everything going for her. Monty always knew she was talented. A natural born star. If he made it as far as he did, then no doubt Maisie had soared.

She didn’t need him. Probably didn’t want to hear from him, after so long.

“All done!”

Lightning glanced over his book as Mater reappeared from underneath the vehicle, covered in more oil and dirt than usual. His friend gave a hopeful, buck-toothed grin.

“Now are ya free?”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Lightning packed his book away and stood. “Yeah. If Sheriff rats on us to Doc, though, I’m blaming you.”

That earned him a snicker. “Shoot, we gotta get caught first.” Mater’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

They always got caught, and Sheriff always told Doc, and Doc always chastised Lightning for causing trouble but Lightning always wormed his way out of any consequences with his famous puppy dog eyes™️. He knew Doc didn’t actually fall for it, but he usually humored Lightning. And made him apologize to Sheriff despite them all knowing they would be back through the cycle again.

As it went, and as he liked it. After apologizing (while holding in their smiles) Lightning and Mater would hit up Flo’s for milkshakes. She would put extra strawberry in McQueen’s, while Mater stole his cherry (Flo would leave them a bowl anyway). Slowly others would melt into the diner for a late meal or coffee. Sally and Doc would gather for their weekly game night, waiting on Sheriff who would eventually walk in muttering about the boys’ shenanigans. Mater would spot him as Lightning heard him, and they would both try to hold in their laughter. Doc would shuffle cards and send a pointed look their way, but ultimately keep his lips sealed.

They all had their routines, flowing naturally around one another. It made each day familiar and fun, quaint as the town was. Their own special little nonsense. Lightning felt at home.

Maisie would love it here.

~~~

As usual, the phone went to voicemail. Still, Maisie left a message.

“Hey. So remember how we agreed that if it ever came down to it, we would drop everything and cross space to get to each other? I mean we were, like, ten. Hang on,”

She smiled when it was her turn. “Hi. Just a lemonade please. Large. Thanks so much.” She paid and put the phone back to her ear, stepping to the side. “Sorry, had to order. I actually haven’t eaten this much fast food since we were teens. I just got the drink, though. I ate earlier. Do you still like strawberry soda?”

Maisie glanced at the menu item. “‘Going soon!’”

“Better get it while you can.”

She met the employee when called for her lemonade, passing him a ‘thank you.’ She continued her voice message as she headed back to the car.

“Anyhow, I’m heading your way. Surprise!” She slid behind the wheel. “I know where you are. If you don’t want to see me, then. . .” Her eyes dampened until she blinked furiously to stop them.

“Then too bad. Be there soon as I can. If you get this and run, I’ll follow you to the sun and back.”

Maisie pulled out of the lot. Maybe she was just being a pain, too stubborn to move on and live her life. Let Monty live his. He had a successful racing career, a place to live, people who cared enough about him to impart wisdom and even take him in. He was set. Was Maisie really about to disrupt that?

(“When you get out there—and it’ll be you first, trust me,” Monty started. “I don’t care what happens. We call every day. When you become rich and buy a mansion and write, direct, produce, and star in your own movie or stage play, I’ll find you.”

Maisie snorted. “Weren’t we both supposed to star in our own movie or stage play?”

“Not a chance.” Monty flicked her tiny hat. “You’re going way further than I ever will. You’re too good.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” She meant it.

Fireworks burst out in the distance. Mama ran outside with an armful, crying ‘happy new year!’ as she hugged them both. They all guzzled apple cider and traded spoonfuls of black eyed peas and grapes. Monty cringed as he swallowed the peas but happily ate the grapes. Maisie helped herself to another cup of cider. Mama kissed their cheeks.

“My babies. Happy new year.”

The twins echoed it back to their mom, snuggled under her arms. They turned to each other, laughing for different reasons. Monty’s paper hat had fallen. Cider dribbled down Maisie’s chin.

“Happy new year,” they said together. More fireworks went off above them.”)

She sucked in a breath and hit the road. If Monty didn’t want her in his new life, he could tell her himself. She was going to see her brother.

Five minutes in, she was stuck in a sea of cars.

Maisie slouched in her seat with a sigh. Well, she would see him whenever traffic cleared.

[heartstringsbloom]

(Continuation of my Lightning McQueen of Hearts au, tw because McQueen has a brief moment of panic)

Okay, so, it took some time getting used to the red hair. Even longer for the thorny markings to become normal. Oh but, well, the heart-shaped pupils are still a shock. Every time he looks in the mirror he can’t get over them. One might think they were just really good contacts. McQueen wishes that were the case.

And the mask.

Everyone asked questions at first, of course they did. Mater had thought it was a costume of some kind. Flo said he looked cute. Ramone wouldn’t stop picking apart the markings, commenting on the artistry as if McQueen had actually done it to himself.

And Lightning sits there biting his teeth because every time he opens his mouth he wants to shout for no reason he could just cry because why is he so angry? And the next moment he’s preening under the attention and curiously, feeling like royalty.

Its maddening. It feels more and more natural everyday.

But then.

Gosh, then—

The first petal doesn’t startle him. He thinks something blew in from outside, as he’s working with Doc on the 95. He doesn’t think about roses in the desert anymore because, well, after what he experienced. But then but then—

He sneezes one day and a whole flower blooms at his feet.

He doesn’t think he’s ever screamed that loud.

He drops the tray he was carrying and immediately Flo is at his side, having started at the alarm in his voice. he’s tripping over roses now as they blossom around his feet and from the ceiling of the diner and atop tables. They’re all he sees as he stumbles back into the counter.

There are voices around him but his eyes are shut tight because nothing makes sense. This has to be a dream. Nothing has made sense since he found that rose in the cactus patch.

When he comes to he’s laying on Sally’s shoulder, in the corner booth she, Doc, and Sheriff usually inhabit. He knows it’s her because it’s she he spends the most time with. She smells like that awesome coconut soap she uses, and her hair is soft against his face. Out of habit he reaches up to run his fingers through it and her hand wraps around his, bringing it to her lips to let him know.

He’s to reciprocate by kissing her knuckles in return, but stops short because the back of her hand is peppered with tiny little roses. Blue roses.

Her shoulders are shaking and when he looks up she’s smiling, a sweet pinkness in her cheeks. She calls him her personal garden. He’s still reeling.

Her smile falls as his silence stretches. He hates making her lose any amount of joy. With a sigh she dips her head, resting their foreheads together as he brushes through her hair as he always does to ground himself. Unspoken, she goes: it’s okay.

He initiates the kiss and she smiles into it. It fills him with an unspeakable warmth and when he opens his eyes a mess of blue roses are scattered down her hair. It’s the first time the appearance of them hasn’t startled him, because, because wow.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

[heartstringsbloom]

“What’s the last thing your mother said to you?”

The microphone is shoved under his face and McQueen starts. That’s. . .not the question he had been expecting.

“I’m—sorry, what does—?“

“Do you regret not visiting more often?”

“Hold on—“

“Monty.” Mom is there now, hanging behind the reporter like a shadow. His own eyes stare back at him so lovingly he might be sick. “I want you to follow your dream.”

“Mom. . .”

He feels her hand on his face. She’s closer suddenly. Her voice echoes around him, drowning out the reporters, the cheering fans. His panicked breathing.

“It’s gonna be okay. Your sister and I are gonna be keeping an eye on you.”

Lightn—Monty forces himself to swallow. The cameras are blinding. He shuts his eyes against the flashing but he still sees her. “How can you? I’m so far away. Mom, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Mr. McQueen! How selfish can you be to leave your family behind for the track? MR. MCQUEEN!“

“STOP!” He crashes to the ground, doesn’t feel the impact. He- he might throw up. “I don’t know! Stop asking me!”

He sobs, hard. His eyes are squeezed shut yet somehow he still sees her beside him. He can’t escape her—his—her eyes, or her voice. A soothing haunt to his ears.

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“No I’m not.” Monty hugs his knees to his chest. Everything keeps fading in and out but her presence is steady. Too real. Not real enough.

“Mom,” he sobs.

“I’m so proud of you,” she soothes in his hair. Her hugs are just as warm as he thinks he remembers. But he still can’t feel her.

“You—you shouldn’t be.”

“You oughtta call your sister, sundrop.”

“I can’t, mom.” Monty sniffles. He feels smaller than ever. Nothing exists beyond her feather-light embrace. “She probably hates me.”

He closes his eyes and, finally, everything fades with that. Mom rocks them both, humming something about needing to run to the store for glue to finish Maisie’s costume for the play.

“Into The Woods?” They had both performed in that one. They had performed in a lot of plays together. The last one was when they were 15.

“You know your songs, baby?”

He snuggles in just like he used to. “Yeah, mama.”

She kisses his temple. Monty’s too tired to open his eyes, as if they’re glued shut. Mama squeezes him tight, still rocking back and forth. The last time he let her hold him like that was when he was 12.

“Love you, sunshine,” she whispers. He wants to say ‘don’t go,’ but his body is heavy.

His eyes open to window of Doc’s guest room.

It’s a bit cold, and he can see the sky is barely awake. He pulls the blankets tighter around himself. It’s half a comfort.

The room is a low grey. It’s early-early. Doc’s gonna get him up for training in a couple of hours. Mont—Lightning can barely stomach the idea, but he pushes out of bed anyway. He can at least get a shower and food.

The dream sits untouched in the back of his mind. He can’t help but to. . .well, he doesn’t recall much of it at all, but he can’t shake it. He doesn’t really want to.

His hands feel loose as he reaches for the shower curtain. It rests there, unmoving, unwilling. He just doesn’t have it in him. Lightning pulls away and slides to the floor, lashes sticky on his cheeks.

People always told him he had his mother’s face. For some reason they never said it to Maisie, though it could have been for her brown eyes. It hurt to look at her sometimes, as if he were missing out on something he never knew, but at the same time they were incredible. A treasure only she held. Maisie never liked her eyes. Monty appreciated them, though he’d never admitted it (he should have told her).

Same lips. Same jaw. Same piercing eyes, different colors. Maisie got mistaken for him, and he got mistaken for mom, even though Maisie had mom’s honey-to-gold blonde hair. Monty’s was strawberry blonde, almost rosy (rosy like his and Maisie’s cheeks).

He jolts awake when someone knocks at the bathroom door.

“Lightning?” Doc calls. “You about ready?”

Light. . .ning blinks himself awake (“pay attention, McQueen.” His sister would say during rehearsals, snapping her fingers in his face. They shared the same last name). He pushes up from the floor, eyes thick with sleep he doesn’t know if he wants. His legs are weak. He slips down with a sigh.

“Monty?”

(“Monty,” mom says softly when he won’t get out of bed. “You’ll be late for school.”)

The door creaks open. He feels Doc press a hand to his forehead.

“What’s goin’ on, kid?” Doc sounds worried, actually.

“Jus’ tired,” Lightning slurs. His lips barely move. “Tried to get a shower, couldn’t keep myself up.”

Doc’s beside him now. He brushes some hair from Lightning’s eyes. “You feelin’ sick?”

“Nah.” Maybe?

It’s quiet for a moment. He can hear Doc thinking.

“I think we can skip practice today. Go back to bed.” Doc stands, helps Lightning up. “I’ll bring you some food in a bit. Should have some water, too.”

Yeah. His lips do feel dry.

(“You need some lip balm,” his sister tells him through the mirror one night as she does her makeup. He’s still trying to get the stupid wig to look right. “And water.”)

Shut up, Maisie.

“Hey, you don’t have to like it,” Doc hums, as if Light spoke aloud. Maybe he did. “It’s what’s best for now.”

“You always say that,” Lightning whines, feeling in quite the mood to just be difficult.

(“You always say that,” he mutters to their reflection. She clicks her tongue and decides to not with the usual ‘I’m always right.’)

Doc eases him into the once messy bed now tucked neatly because Doc sometimes goes behind his back like that, and folds the sheets around his waist. The comforter has been folded on the desk chair.

“Try to sleep, rookie.”

“Sleep is so off season, Doc.” Lightning scoffs and burrows into his pillow. “Let me behind the wheel and I’ll. . .”

Tires spinning. Dirt flying. Turn right to go—

(“One day,” Monty asserts, laying on his sister’s shoulder. The tv screen glows black and white in the darkness of their little living room. “Someday soon, that’ll be me.”

He feels feels her hum more than he hears her. “Your hair’s in my nose.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear with your hair in my ear.”

“Chomp.”

“Chomp?”

“. . .”

“Did you bite—“)

“—my hair?” Monty mumbles in his pillow.

He hears a chuckle.

Gets everywhere, someone says.

He doesn’t know who. The door shuts quietly.

Lightning wakes up to a note on the bedside in Doc’s handwriting, saying he’ll be at the clinic til 5 or so. Then he checks his phone and there’s a text with the same message, because Doc figured he’d better appreciate that.

He sits up and stretches, letting out a lion’s yawn that tastes like a fresh start and all the sleep he could have asked for. His stomach draws wide circles in him and he glances about for that food Doc had promised.

Doc wouldn’t just leave food out for however long to go bad.

He finds some soup and a cup of strawberries in the fridge. Soup is never his first choice but the strawberries help it go down. He surprisingly doesn’t mind it as much as he usually does, especially when it’s hot and warms him right up. He’s all the more grateful that Doc didn’t leave it out to go bad (as opposed to Lightning, who hasn’t just once forgotten to put leftovers away before bed).

“He’s so cool,” Lightning sighs. The doorbell rings.

As he opens it, he’s met with the most beautiful sight.

“Howdy, doll.” Sally dips her sunglasses and smirks. “You got a date to the prom?”

He sips from his bowl and leans on the doorframe, fighting to hear himself over the speed of his heart. “She just showed up.”

Sally leans up to kiss him before he leaps back, hand over his mouth.

“Stickers?”

“I’m sick, Sal!”

Sally, angel she is, laughs and draws his hand down. She pecks him softly, like, wow. “S’not gonna stop me.”

“Hm?” He’s still reeling from how lovely it always is.

“Nothing, babe.” She walks through the living room and he bounds after, so happy to be together. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good.” He sits back down at the table and opens his arms, wraps the blanket he’s been wearing around them both. “Sleepy. Is that weird? I just woke up.”

“My poor, sick baby.” Sally’s kiss tastes like strawberries. Oh, the thief. “The soup should help.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like soup,” Light mumbles against her crown. “How’ve you been?”

She swirls one of the berries in the bowl, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Well it’s slow today, but most people aren’t rushing through our cute little town this time of year. Don’t get me wrong, I love the activity.” She sighs, takes a bite and Lightning plucks a piece of chicken from the bowl. “It’s just nice having it to ourselves every now and then, not having to deal with all the buzz Mr. Golden racer boy brings everywhere he goes.”

He snorts. “I wouldn’t say I’m that popular.”

“Sure. Sky’s not blue.”

“Maybe not to you.” And he means it, watching her nibble the soup-coated berry and gaze sleepily towards the window above the sink. Bluer than blue, everything she is. Beautiful and true.

“You wanna come by the Cone? I could keep you company.”

“Nah.” He moves the bowl towards her, stealing back his cup of fruit. “It was enough walking to the front door and back.”

“Don’t be a stranger, shortcake.” She moves off of his lap and he misses her already. “I’m calling every couple hours, hear me? If you don’t answer, I’ll peek through your window until you either shoo me off or I get tired of looking at you.”

He rolls his eyes. “In other words, I’d have to actually tell you to leave.” Impossible. He’d never want her to leave.

Her smirk is back. “I know how hard that is for you, so I’ll make the agonizing—“ Sally clutches her heart, lifts her knuckles to her brow “—sacrifice of leaving on my own. See what you’re doing to me, stickers? Do you see how much I go through for you?”

“Always.” He kisses the back of her hand, drops his forehead to it. “I love you.”

He feels her brush a curl behind his ear and knows that she’s the best he could have ever asked for. “I love you too, Lightning.”

They part soon after, with Sally reiterating her promise to check in regularly and Lightning promising to let her.

As he wraps himself in bed, belly comfortably full and face more relaxed, he wonders if he’s forgotten something. His eyes will fall closed and he’ll think he sees someone, he almost knows he does, but they’re gone as soon as he’s conscious of them. There’s a voice he hasn’t heard in years but could never forget. Someone’s hand in his, whispering reassurances behind a curtain. The murmur of an audience. Gone again, back to nothingness behind his eyes. And as it goes, each time.

He falls asleep on a stage, sharing a dream he’s left behind.

It’s loud this time of night, voices bleeding over each other as silverware and plates meet. The tv over the bar is low, far from the main diner and even farther from those just outside, but she catches things here and there all the same. She’s learned how to use her ears.

Racing season must be at its peak. The interviewer on air won’t stop babbling about that three-way tie. Maisie still can’t wrap her head around such a blunder. Least of all can she believe how reckless he was.

Monty never used to be so careless.

When the press shove their way to him (“McQueen! McQueen!”) he’s leaning on his car, smirk loose and proud, arms crossed as if he’s everything and more, the brat (he’s enough, always has been, but she never told him and that hits her harder and harder every night). He prides himself on this one-man show attitude. Maisie tries to get lost in anything else: her cider is bubbly and sweet, he’d like it, Monty’s so different now; the night is cool and deep and unlike the flashes on screen that capture his every move and perfect teeth (as if he ever knew when to stop eating candy. Did he break the habit?).

Ugh, this is her least favorite part of the night, having to sit and wonder. He’s not even thinking about her. Not with his flashy new lifestyle and adoring fans. She polishes off her cider, listening to someone on tv yell that they quit, but refusing to watch. She recalls the news articles detailing each crew Monty’s fired. Maisie leaves her glass at the bar, tips the bartender who smiles her way, asks if she’ll get along fine on her own. She hums noncommittally, adds a few more bills to his tip because he has been a real gentleman all night. She leaves before he can ask again.

In her car she melts against the steering wheel, exhaustion hitting her at once. She doesn’t have to be on set til 9-ish, so she can sleep until 7 or so and make the next town over on time. And right now it’s. . .

Well, if she’s back at the motel and in bed within the next forty-or-so minutes she’ll catch a few hours of sleep after accounting for the bug-watch she’ll be doing. As it goes.

(Why hadn’t he called?)

Why hasn’t she?

She pushes away the accusation, scoffs at it. She’s been busy, obviously. Busy getting background roles and sleeping with the lights on to avoid bugs, or keep them away, but either way she doesn’t sleep. Busy having to settle with a stale bagel each morning because of her allergies and the hotel staff never knowing what’s been used in their meals. Monty probably gets his food special-made. Maisie hopes he remembers to be mindful anyway. He seems fine so far, at least.

Fine enough without her. No reason to call.

Her thumb hovers over his contact in her phone, as it does at least twice a day. He’s on live tv. She could call and embarrass him, probably, if he bothers to pick up. In front of the camera? He’d be ridiculous to. It’s not out of his league, but he wouldn’t have his phone on him. Not just after a race. She couldn’t bring herself to do it anyway, to even taint his success, though it crawls under her skin to just. . .and maybe she’s different now, too.

Her hand shakes and her throat dries. She tosses the phone to the passenger side, breathes through the weight behind her eyes. She’s just tired. And very tempted to go back for a few more ciders, fooling herself into thinking she could afford it. But she’s a big girl. She can pull through without the sugary support.

Maisie drives through McDonald’s for a small coffee—it won’t do much for her, but it’ll make the night a little easier—and heads back to the motel.

It’s a quiet drive. She keeps the radio off, really in no mood for it, though she hasn’t been able to get that one song out of her head for a while.

“Life could be a dream. . .”

The city is its best at night. The lights always fill Maisie with nostalgia for those long, sleepy rides along the freeway, nodding off on her brother’s shoulder as mama drove home. She can’t feel the lights like she would her family, but they’re almost an embrace. They’re close enough.

In the back of her mind she sees those lights on the red carpet. Cameras flashing (“McQueen, McQueen!”) catching her every angle, every one her best. Capturing him, too, as they walk side by side in this dream they’d have built.

There they would be: on a stage doing their latest Broadway hit. Her makeup perfect and his wig finally right. Monty and Maisie, twin sensations.

She’s back at the hotel before she knows it. Her coffee is cold when she picks it up, and she’s no way to heat it. Maisie sighs and brings it in anyway.

She sets it on the small table under the mounted tv that doesn’t get any channels. She showers quickly, well past ready for bed. The stage comes and goes, but her thoughts keep Monty the rest of the night. Her thumb hovers over the contact.

Maisie falls asleep, phone in hand, missing a far-off dream and a far-away sibling.

[heartstringsbloom]

Okay but like

(The new Barbie Dream Besties dolls are so cute)

Malibu is my favorite from the line (they’re all cute tho) because her ruffly top?? Her little mirror??? They’re all so adorable. Brooklyn’s faceee and hair color (the tinsel is rly pretty) and Teresa’s gamer set but also her hair and DIMPLES??? Renee’s outfit and toast purse and also her face and they’re all so so pretty what a great core line (and the ad is so neat. The song is catchy)

The face molds def remind me of Ever After High and I like that Mattel is using that look for them. It feels like that doll style isn’t just sitting unused since EAH was discontinued (I would love to see Ever After come back one day though)

Anyway Dream Besties are cute, I hope they make more <33

[heartstringsbloom]

McQueen: Fine I’m guilty! I WEAR FALSE HEADLIGHTS!

Everyone:

McQueen: oh and I wrecked the road.

[heartstringsbloom]

Hear me out

Lightning McQueen of Hearts

I’m about to get a little fantastical with this

Willy’s Butte is known for its desert sands. It’s also home to tulips and cacti. One should always be careful. What it isn’t known for is mysterious roses popping up on the edges of those cacti. The single bloom is so brightly red it’s almost cartoony, or so Lightning thinks as he drops into the patch for a closer look. His recent obsession with flowers only fuels his curiosity, but it’s almost as if he couldn’t look away if he tried. He doesn’t remember if he tried . . .

It’s velvety to the touch. Surprisingly thick and strong. Light plucks it, careful of the cacti surrounding, though his finger slips either way. A thorn?

Ow.

Suddenly the world dips. His vision wavers, swims. He doesn’t feel himself fall, thankfully doesn’t feel the cactus needles, because he’s out before they touch him.

He’s waking up, someone says.

He blinks himself to consciousness. It’s not the first time he’s woken up in Doc’s clinic. Usually he remembers why, though.

Bluer-than-the-ocean pours into his field of vision. Sally cups his face. Something worries her. Light reaches out to return the gesture, even brush some blue behind her ear, but he freezes as soon as his fingers reach her.

Thorns.

His arm is covered in them. Jagged, winding vines that curl up and around his forearm and wrist. Black, red markings. Covered in thorns.

Sally follows his gaze and presses her lips together. They had noticed, she says.

Then she hands him her mirror.

Oh.

Where strawberry-dusted gold had been, there now was a deep red. Rose red. As if someone had bled all over his scalp and it painted down the rest of his hair. The thorny vines have curled up his jaw and around his eyes like the memory of some weird, tattooed mask. Barely there yet unforgettable.

He can’t take his eyes off of his reflection. Sally rubs his back soothingly.

They both turn when the door opens and in steps Doc, who’s scrutinizing a file as if it’ll confess that it’s been in the cookie jar.

He can’t make heads or tails of the situation. Mcqueen’s vitals are fine, though his heart is a little more active. His pupils are blown, too, and—Doc lets out a laugh of disbelief. Maybe anxiety.

What? Lightning grips the medical bed.

Didn’t you see the hearts?

Sally holds the mirror in front of him.

Oh.

Centered in his dilated pupils was a matching set of small, red hearts.

A sudden wave of emotions runs through him, twisting around his veins and lighting up his heart. Everything burns and everything sings. He wants to scream and he wants to smile. Nothing makes sense.

He feels mad (he feels mad). In the frenzy of his heart he remembers, all of a sudden.

Through his teeth he asks about the rose. He thinks it was painted red. He wants to play croquet. (He wants to play croquet?).

He only asks about the rose. Neither of the other two can tell him where it even came from. Roses show up in the desert sometimes, but never have they seen one on a cactus.

He hadn’t known better. He wouldn’t have touched it, had he known the outcome. His nails bite into the leather bed, and it’s as if his touch itself contains a dozen thorns.

He didn’t mean to tear it. What’s gotten into him?

He sways on his feet as Sally helps him down, Doc’s advice of plenty rest and maybe some water following them out the door. He stumbles but Sally rights him every time.

He feels like he’s losing his head. He feels . . .

He’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

(He dreams of half-painted roses and croquet gardens).

Eep.

[heartstringsbloom]

Haha thank you both, this was really fun to write! He’s just a cutie patootie ^^

“I am Groot” but instead McQueen can only say “kachow”

Mater: See ya around, buddy!

McQueen: Kachow!

Sally: Hey, Stickers!

McQueen: *smitten* kachow . . .

Doc: *waiting at the butte for training* You’re late

McQueen: Kachow.

Doc: in other words, you didn’t go to bed at a decent hour

McQueen: kachow?

Doc: That’s the third time this week.

McQueen: *mocking* kachow-wow-wow

Doc: don’t you sass me young man

[heartstringsbloom]

lazy sketchin wyd