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clarissasbakery · 2 years
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i wasn't gonna do anything for @tobeckyweek day 6 BUT MY GOOD GOOD FRIEND PATENT WROTE ME A FIC ABOUT MY AU AND ITS SO AMAZING I HAD TO DRAW SOMETHING TO GO ALONGSIDE IT SO GO GO CHECK IT OUT RIGHT NEOW
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animation-is-my-jam · 2 years
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DAY 4- Prom Night (Ramé)
It’s prom for Becky Botsford and Tobey McCallister. Unsurprisingly after many angsty teen tears and a messy promposal, these two went together. Having a wonderful time while any of their friends had to endure their constant flirting and awkward dances. @tobeckyweek
(Scoops, Violet, and Victoria were supposed to be more prevalent in this one to fit the prompts theme more better but time did fly and I forgo to add more in the last sec)))
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ima-space-child · 2 years
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Tobecky Week Day 5 Redamancy: (noun) The act of loving one who loves you back; a love returned in full
This is my biggest project of this week! Not just mine but also my good friend Otaku Emi who did both the coloring and the amazing background art! This is also why I haven't done Day 4 yet but don't worry I will >:)
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murphi-nyah · 2 years
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tobecky week
day 1 : altschmerz
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"ill always be a villian and theres nothing i can do about it!  no matter what i do i cant atone for what ive done.  i dont deserve their forgiveness and i especially dont deserve your kindness, wordgirl."
loosely inspired by "Saving Tobey" by Night_N_Gail on ao3
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day 2 of my tobecky week prompts: screenshot redraw!
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i love this screenshot so much its so funny
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lid-the-kid · 2 years
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Tobecky Week day 5-Redamancy
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eatmypastelsoulmate · 2 years
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Day 3!!: Metanoia (noun)
The journey of changing one's mind, heart, or way of life.
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ilovetobecky · 2 years
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TOBECKY WEEK DAY 4 RAMÉ
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tobeckyweek · 2 years
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(Mamma Mia) Here We Go Again!
Tobecky Week Day 1
Summary: Becky Botsford is having one of the strangest days of her life.  Now if only she could stop having it.  A 5k tobecky time loop fic!
AO3 ink
cws: memory loss, food
Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
She yawned, back cracking as she stretched luxuriously.  It was a Sunday, which meant she could lay back down (provided a villainous plan wasn’t brewing), but ABBA this early meant her dad was in the kitchen, doubtlessly whipping up something delicious and chocolatey for breakfast. 
She dressed and shuffled downstairs, murmuring a groggy ‘good morning’ to her parents and Bob then making a beeline for the refrigerator.  She cracked open the milk carton, gave it a sniff, then shrugged and poured herself a glass, settling at the kitchen table as TJ tramped downstairs.
“Hey, Becky, is your phone acting weird?” 
He flashed the screen – the wallpaper was on the fritz, interface completely eclipsed by static.
She rolled her eyes.  “You probably dropped it again.”
“Just because I’ve broken it like five times–”
“–forty seven times–”
“–doesn’t mean I’ve… actually, yeah, good point.”
TJ flopped gracelessly into the seat next to her and Bob, nose twitching.  “Almost ready, Dad?”
Time laughed, flipping a pancake in the air and catching it nearly in his skillet.  “Does a flapjack flap?”
They stared at him blankly. 
“… yes?”
“I mean, the name seems to imply so, but–”
“Hello, Botsfords!”
Becky dropped her fork.
Plastered against the glass doors leading to the backyard was none other than Theodore Tobey McCallister III, smile frenetic and eyes wild as he scrambled for the door handle.
“Good morning, hope all is well with you.”  His voice tripped and trilled over itself as he stepped inside – with his shoes on, the heathen.  “I’m here to see Becky.” 
“Tobey, what are you doing?”  Becky demanded, only for her to reel back, stiffening in surprise when he said the same thing at the same time. 
“Stop that,” he said just as Becky did.  “What are you doing?  Tobey?!”
Becky’s family fell silent, watching with wide eyes.
“I need to talk to WordGIrl,” Tobey said, when Becky finally lapsed into silence, “urgently.”
“WordGirl?!”  Becky forced a laugh, eyes darting to a stunned Bob.  “That’s… that’s silly, why would I even have contact with her– and even if I did I’m sure there’s plenty of others who–”
“Alright,” Tobey sighed, hand closing around her forearm, “I’m abducting you.  Just to the treehouse, don’t worry.”
“Now, hang on–”  Tim objected, recovering his senses, but Tobey was already in motion.
“Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Botsford,” Tobey called over his shoulder, tugging Becky along.  “I mean absolutely no offense, but you’re not going to remember this tomorrow, so I don’t really feel like wasting my time on good manners, even if you are my future in-laws.  Presuming there is a future, that is.”
“Tobey!?”  Becky let him pull her along, flummoxed as the door slammed behind them.  “What on Earth are you talking about?  ‘Presuming there was a future’?  ‘Not going to remember this’?  Future in-laws?”  
“We need to get to a secure location,” Tobey said, instead of anything remotely useful.  “We used the tree house yesterday; it should have everything we need.”
“Yesterday?”  She followed him up the ladder, fighting the urge to grab him by the shoulders and literally shake the answers out of him.  “Tobey, we were at school yesterday.  And you didn’t come over.  Why would you have?”
“Oh, I did!  It’s just that I came over today yesterday.  A today that no longer exists, because it was yesterday.”  Tobey turned at the top of the ladder, holding out a hand and hoisting her up afterwards.  “Get it?”
“Tobey,” Becky said, as gently as she could, “did you sleep at all in the last…  ever?”
“What? Yes, probably.”  Tobey ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking straight up.  Heavy purple bags beneath his eyes, skin pale and sallow, movements sharp and jittery – he didn't look like he’d slept.  “I mean, presumably.  The loop forces me to sleep, I assume.  This is the fourth go round, and I’ve woken up in my bed every time, at least.”
He crossed over to the blackboard taking up the far side of the treehouse, picking up the chalk from the nearby shelf without even bothering to look for it, scrawling on the board.  “So, here’s what we’ve got so far.  We, my darling WordGirl, are stuck in a time loop.  Unfortunately–”
“WordGirl?”  Becky interrupted.  “Tobey, WordGirl isn’t even here, that’s-  that’s ridiculous.  Me?  WordGirl?  Ha.  Ha!  How do I know you aren’t WordGirl and you’re trying to throw me off–”
Tobey held up a finger, glancing at his watch.  “The neighbors realize they’re late for an appointment at 6:57” – the sound of emphatic swearing, followed by the squeal of tires – “lady walking her dog at 6:58” – on the street, a woman in a red coat chased after a hyperactive Yorkie. – “And your brother comes out to check on us shortly thereafter.”
From below, TJ’s voice called up to them.  “Becks?  Are you good?  Do I need to send for backup?”
Becky swallowed hard, reeling.  “I’m fine, TJ,” she managed, dropping into a beanbag chair.  “Tobey just… needed help with a school thing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m… I’m sure.”
She and Tobey regarded each other in silence as TJ trooped back across the yard, sliding the door to the house shut behind him.
“Believe me now, Botsford?”
“Unfortunately.  I mean, this is Fair City.  Why not add warping the fabric of space-time to the mix?”  Becky sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.  “So… did I tell you I was WordGirl?  In one of the previous loops?”
“Oh, no, I’ve always known, my dear.”  He turned back the chalkboard, shooting her a devilish grin over his shoulder.  “Thank you for confirming it just now, by the way.”
“Wha– I did no such thing!”  Becky flushed, skin prickling.  “I just asked if I said that to you previously.  No confession involved!  I could have been lying!”
“Granted,” Tobey said, squinting at the complex diagram he was drawing of… was that a bowling ball in a net?  “But all the evidence suggests otherwise.  Besides, I’ve been in love with both of you for such a long time, with equal ferocity, so the two of you being one and the same makes more sense than anything else.”
Becky blinked.  She rubbed her ear, snapping her finger next to it, then stared at Tobey’s back as he finished scrawling some headache-inducing calculus.  
“Tobey,” she said, voice strained.  “Did you just say you’re in love with me?  Both of me?  Not just WordGirl?”
The chalk snapped in half in Tobey’s hand.  “I… Yes, well.”  
He turned, adjusting his bow tie and staring fastidiously at the floor.  “The chances that you’ll remember this tomorrow are vanishingly small, so I’ve been taking the liberty of not filtering myself.”
“You were holding it in before?”  Becky raised an eyebrow.  “I never would have accused you of being encumbered with your emotions.”
“This feels like you’re trying to tease me, not help me.”
“I’m a phenomenal multitasker.”  She took a deep breath, softening her voice.  “Tobey, I–”
“Let’s… focus on the task at hand, shall we?”  Tobey said, picking up a nub of chalk.  “We can discuss other matters tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”
“Oh my dear,” he said, “when is it ever?”
The facts went something like this: four ‘days’ ago, there was some weird power surge all across Fair City.  Tobey, who had been insulated as he tinkered away in the thick metal exterior of one of his robots, hadn’t noticed anything at first, only to realize once he emerged that every single type of computerized device in Fair City was malfunctioning.
“Which explains the lack of robots?”  Becky asked.
“Which explains the lack of robots,” Tobey confirmed, glumly.
He had largely shrugged it off as a scheme by one of his fellow villains, going to bed, only to be bewildered by his mother claiming it was Sunday when getting ready for school the ‘next’ day.
“I spent most of that first loop trying to puzzle things out with her, convinced she was ill,” he explained.  “Of course, when I ventured downtown later, I realized everyone else had come down with the same affliction.  They were stuck inside time, and I… wasn’t.”
His theory, admittedly, didn’t make much sense to Becky.  He postulated that the energy surge had somehow nudged them sideways out of the linear flow of time and into this loop.
“How does that explain electronics not working?”  She asked.  “Or why you weren’t affected?”
“Well, you see, I…”  He paused, blinking.   “Well, obviously…” 
“You have no idea, do you?”
“I do too,” he protested, hotly.  “I just… we simply…  oh, blast it all, this is as far as we’ve gotten in the last two days. Forgive me for not having everything figured out perfectly.”
He snarled, scrubbing the board with the eraser in large, jagged strokes.
“Tobey, stop!  What if you need that?”
He scoffed.  “I like packing things away for the day.  It’s not like it would be here tomorrow, after all.”
“I guess.”  Becky groaned, dragging her hands down her face.  “Ugh, this is all just so bizarre.”
“Odd?”  Tobey offered.
“Peculiar,” she countered, a smile brushing the corner of her mouth.
“Outlandish.”
“Wacky.”
“Rum.”
“Isn’t that a type of alcohol?”  Becky squinted at him.  “We’re only fourteen, Tobey.”
“British slang, my dear,” he protested, tugging proudly at his bow tie.  “And now you’re behind.”
“Shoot, uh… queer.”
“No reason to call names , darling.”  Tobey shook his head in mock-disappointment.  “Besides, what’s that saying about pots and kettles?”
Becky laughed despite herself, nudging him with her shoulder.  “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, McCallister.”
He offered her a half-smile.  “Well, look on the bright side: it’s not like you have to get used to it, after all.”
The urge to smooth her thumb under his eyes, as if she could wipe away the lines of exhaustion, swept over her.  She looked away, pinning her hand beneath her leg. 
“I’m sorry you do, Tobey.”
He shrugged.  “Better me than no one, I suppose.”
Pale moonlight flickered in through the glass panel set in the roof.  They had barely stopped for lunch; Becky’s parents were probably bursting with questions Becky had no idea how to answer.
“See you tomorrow?”  Becky asked, then winced.  “Well, I guess you’ll see me…  a me, that is… today.”
Tobey chuckled a little.  “Bloody weird, isn’t it?”
“Oh, that’s putting it lightly.”
There was a hint of cathartic hysteria to their laughter, an edge of delirium as they wheezed; better that than start crying.  Even when they quieted down, there was an afterglow of warmth, solidarity.  Maybe that’s why Becky reached out, laying her hand over Tobey’s and squeezing.
“Tell me I’ve got a carousel in the spaceship hideout tomorrow,” she advised.  “I’ll believe you quicker then.”
His pale green eyes were shining, starry.  “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”
“It’s late,” she said, softly.  “I should get to bed.”
He reached out, tucking an errant curl behind her ear.  “Sleep well, my dear.”
Her heart, for whatever reason, felt like it was trying to flutter out through her throat.  “You too, Tobey.  You need it.”
“Oh, you never know.”  He winked.  “I may get myself into some mischief.  Not like it matters, after all.”
She shot Tobey a glare.  “Be good.”
“My darling.”  He swung his legs over the edge of the windowsill, and all she could see of his face was the edge of a mischievous smile.  “That’ll never happen.”
Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
She yawned, back cracking as she stretched luxuriously.  It was a Sunday, which meant she could lay back down (provided a villainous plan wasn’t brewing), but ABBA this early meant her dad was in the kitchen, doubtlessly whipping up something delicious and chocolatey for breakfast. 
She dressed and shuffled downstairs, murmuring a groggy ‘good morning’ to her Dad and making a beeline for the refrigerator.  She cracked open the milk carton, gave it a cautious sniff, then shrugged and poured herself a glass, settling at the kitchen table as TJ tramped downstairs.
“Hey, Becky, is your phone acting weird?” 
He flashed the screen – the wallpaper was on the fritz, interface completely eclipsed by static.
She rolled her eyes.  “You probably dropped it again.”
“Just because I’ve broken it like five times–”
“–forty seven times–”
“–doesn’t mean I’ve… why is Tobey standing on our back porch?”
“Hi, Botsfords!”  The self-proclaimed boy genius waved through the glass doors, beaming, looking absolutely unhinged.  “Can I steal Becky for a while?”
For some reason, Becky smiled.
  They still didn’t figure it out that time, even if Becky laid her head against Tobey’s shoulder when she groaned in exasperation, and he had to spend about five minutes figuring out how to talk normally again.
Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
  Or that time, even if Tobey made some joke about synonyms that made Becky laugh so hard soda came out of her nose.
Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
  Or that one, especially since Tobey kissed Becky’s hand with a dramatic flourish when he greeted her in the morning and they lost a few hours with Becky explaining emphatically to her family how they were absolutely not dating and Tobey doing his utmost to be as unhelpful as possible.
Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
  Or that one.  No particular reason.  Quantum physics is just notoriously difficult, even for fourteen year old geniuses who seem to spend half their time bantering.
Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
She yawned, back cracking as she stretched luxuriously.  It was a Sunday, which meant she could lay back down (provided a villainous plan wasn’t brewing), but ABBA this early meant her dad was in the kitchen, doubtlessly whipping up something delicious and chocolatey for breakfast. 
She dressed and shuffled downstairs, murmuring a groggy ‘good morning’ to her Dad and making a beeline for the refrigerator.  She cracked open the milk carton, gave it a cautious sniff, then shrugged and poured herself a glass, settling at the kitchen table as TJ tramped downstairs.
“Hey, Becky, is your phone acting weird?” 
He flashed the screen – the wallpaper was on the fritz, interface completely eclipsed by static.
She rolled her eyes.  “You probably dropped it again.”
“Just because I’ve broken it like five times–”
“–fifty six times–”
The doorbell rang. 
Sally looked up from her morning paper, head tilted.  “Who could it be at this hour?”
“Salesperson maybe?  I’ll get it,” Becky volunteered, hopping up.
She swung open the door, ready to protest that they really didn’t want any tomatoes or vacuum cleaners when–
“Good morning, Becky Botsford.”
“Tobey?  What are you doing here?”  She stepped outside, barefoot on the concrete step and pulled the door shut behind her, frowning.  “Are you okay?  You look… discombobulated.”
He laughed wearily, rubbing a hand across his jaw.  “That’s a good one.  What’s it mean?”
“Disoriented.  Confused.  Lost.  You, for example.”
“There’s… something I need to do,” he said.  “Something I need to figure out.  I have all the time in the world to do it – more than, actually – but I just… I need a break.  So I was…”  He cleared his throat, adjusted his bow tie, and for the first time, she realized he’d put gel in his hair, slicking it back.  “I was wondering if you, Becky Botsford, would like to accompany me on a… on a date.”
The world teetered into unreality.
Tobey looked tired.  Bags under his pale green eyes had been smeared with concealer, patchy and uneven.  Clutched in his hands was a bouquet of starflowers.  His shirt was pressed but worn soft, as if he’d been wearing it for hours already.  He’d put gel in his hair for her.  He was asking her out. 
“Okay,” Becky said.
“I completely understand, of course.  Sorry for–” He blinked slowly, a small, delighted smile starting to spread.  “Wait… really?”
“Really,” Becky said, laughing a little.  “I think I’d like that.”
It was true, even.  Seeing Tobey there, standing on her doorstep, felt… right, somehow.
“Oh!”  He straightened up, hand flying to his hair before he remembered the gel at the last second.  “Brilliant!  I thought we could go downtown; I believe there’s some pop-up instillation there – well, I know, actually, I’ve passed it at least five times, but regardless–”
“Tobey,” she tried to interject.
“No?  Oh, we can do the park then!  There’s a lovely bookstore on the way, and I saw a copy of Jane Eyre that looked absolutely marvelous, or–”
“Tobey!”  She interrupted, laughing.  “That all sounds wonderful, alright?  Just let me put on some shoes first.”
  It was wonderful, in the end.
They did go to the installation, where the artist spoke passionately about how this had always been their dream, how today was only the first day of the exhibit but how it felt so familiar, so right.  But they also went to the bookstore, where Tobey bought her the copy of Jane Eyre – leather bound and gorgeous.  And the park, where Tobey waited with infinite patience as Becky pet every single dog she could find, then bought them ice cream cones. 
The entire day was filled with conversation – favorite books, school, banter over whatever evil schemes Tobey intended to pull off next.  Becky laughed herself silly, for whatever reason so comfortable, so familiar with her villain.  Yet, still, something was off.  Tobey reacted to things around them even as they happened, sometimes, almost like he already knew.  A strange shadow passed over his face when Becky casually mentioned her plans with Violet tomorrow.
“Something’s wrong,” she said at the end of the day, as they sat on an old swing set, ice cream cones slowly melting in their hands as they watched the sun sinking past the horizon, ceding to the silver moon.  “Isn’t it?”
Tobey kicked the ground with the tip of his loafers, sending him swaying slowly in a pendulous arch.  He didn’t look at her, just tightened his grip on the swing’s chains.
“You have a carousel in your secret spaceship hideout,” he said.
Becky dropped her ice cream cone.  
“What are you talking about?  She managed, laughing nervously.  “I don't– why would I, ordinary teenager Becky Botsford, have a secret–”
“We’re in a time loop, Becky.”
Becky’s swing came to an abrupt stop.
“That…”  She said, slowly.  “Explains a lot, actually.  The sudden date did seem a bit out of character.  Running out of ways to entertain yourself?”
“Quite the opposite, actually.”  Tobey laughed bitterly.  “I just… needed a break.  A reminder that it was still worth it to keep trying.”
“And?”
“It is,” he said, looking at her with green eyes turned emerald by the setting sun.  “To have days like this with you in the future, to have a future… it's worth anything.  It’s worth everything.”
“How long has it been?”
“A week, I think.  Maybe longer.  It’s… difficult, keeping track of things.”
“For what it's worth,” Becky said, gently.  “I’m glad you get to remember everything.  If there’s anyone who can get us out of this mess, it's the self-proclaimed boy genius.”
“Why, Becky Botsford.”  His eyebrows shot up, a wry smile dawning.  “Finally admitting I’m smarter than you?  Took long enough.”
“I said ‘ self-proclaimed’, McCallister.  We have a big enough problem without your ego inflating and crushing the city beneath it.”  Her words sounded warmer, fonder than she knew what to do with.
Tobey just laughed, standing up.
“Come on,” he said, hands in his pockets.  “I’ll walk you home.”
  “Creating an electromagnetic pulse with an opposite frequency?”
“Already thought of it.  Too risky, since I didn’t get the exact amplitude of the first blast and we don’t know how a second one could interfere.”
“Finding the location of the pulse and blowing it up?”
“You were adamantly against the destruction of public property.”
“Learning the true meaning of Christmas?”
“It’s the middle of July.”
“I don’t see your point.”
Tobey laughed, shaking his head.  “No matter how many times we do this, you never fail to surprise me, Botsford.”
“Well, what if I just stay awake, hm?”  Becky rounded on him as they turned the corner to her house.  “Then the reset won’t happen at all.  Or, at least I’ll be aware of it.”
“I believe you tried that before.  Obviously it didn’t work out.”
“Well, what if you stay with me this time?  Just don’t let me go to sleep, Tobey,” Becky breathed.  “Please, I don’t want to forget.”
“I don’t know if we have a choice, my dear,” he said, gently.  “Besides, what will you think if you wake up in the morning to see me in your room?”
She laughed bitterly, taking one step forward, then another, then fell against him, her face buried in the crook of his neck.  He went stiff, every line pulled tight, scarcely daring to breathe.
“Make me remember, Tobey,” she said.  “I don’t… I don’t want all this to go away.”
His arms slowly lowered around her, settling across her back.  “You know I can’t promise that, darling.”  
“Yeah,” she said as they came to a stop before her door.  “I know.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”  He asked.  There was a wry edge of bitterness to it, a cruel inside joke.  
“Tobey?”
He turned halfway down the path, something achingly open in his face.
“Even if I don’t remember it…”  She hugged the book he’d bought her to her chest, smiling.  “This was the best date I’ve ever been on.  Take me on another one just like it when we’ll both remember, alright?  Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Next time, when we’ll both remember,” she said, “kiss me goodnight.”
  Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA, blasting from somewhere downstairs. 
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya!
She yawned, back cracking as she stretched luxuriously.  It was a Sunday, which meant she could lay back down (provided a villainous plan wasn’t brewing), but ABBA this early meant her dad was in the kitchen, doubtlessly whipping up something delicious and chocolatey for breakfast. 
She dressed, pulling on her typical green sweater and –
Becky froze, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Mamma Mia!  Does it show again?
Slowly, she reached up, pressing the pad of her finger to her cheek.  It came away wet.  She watched her reflection as other tears slipped out after.
My, my, just how much I’ve missed ya!
She was crying.
  Becky shuffled downstairs in a daze, murmuring a groggy ‘good morning’ to her parents and Bob then making a beeline for the refrigerator.  She cracked open the milk carton, gave it a sniff, then winced and put it back, settling at the kitchen table as TJ tramped downstairs.
“Hey, Becky, is your phone acting weird?” 
He flashed the screen – the wallpaper was on the fritz, interface completely eclipsed by static.
“You probably dropped it again.”
“Just because I’ve broken it like five times–”
“–fifty seven times–”
“–doesn’t mean I’ve… actually, yeah, good point.”
“By the way, Becky,” Sally chirped, sliding a gray book over to her.  “Is this yours, honey?  It was on the table when I came down this morning.”
Jane Eyre.
“Oh, yeah it is!  I got it…”  She blinked, picking it up and shaking her head.  “Sorry, I don’t think so, actually.”
She traced a finger along the creamy leather cover.  “It’s beautiful though.”
“Did the most beautiful girl in the world say beautiful?”  Tobey McCallister suddenly appeared at their back door, waving before he grimaced.  “That was cringe, actually.  I’m not going to say that when you– where did you get that book?”
The entire Botsford family stared at him blankly.
“What?”  Becky managed.
  The treehouse, again.  An explanation, again, yet with Tobey pacing around frenetically, hands jittering.
“You’re telling me we went on a date?”
Tobey shot her a look.  “Really?  I tell you the book I bought you has blipped through the fabric of space and time, and you’re concerned that we went on a date?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, me too.”  Tobey grinned at her, goofy and unabashed, before he shook his head, refocusing.  “But this doesn’t make any sense!  I mean, unless it’s not…” 
“It’s not a time loop,” Becky breathed, hand trembling around the novel as her shocked gaze caught Tobey’s.
His pale green eyes were huge, breath coming out in strange, hitching gasps.  “It’s a memory loop.”
“You didn’t get caught up in it because you were in your robot–”
“–and there’s enough electromagnetic interference there to shield me, of course!”  Tobey smacked his palm against his head.  “Oh, I’m a bloody idiot, why didn’t I realize sooner?  Of course everyone’s behavior is the same, they’re just acting like themselves, but the environment is changing in minuscule increments!” 
“I knew the milk in the fridge wasn’t going bad that quickly!”
“Okay, okay, think,” Tobey instructed, pacing back and forth, pulling at his hair.  “This isn’t a time loop at all.  There’s something causing everyone in the city’s memories to be reset every day.”
“Everyone except for you.”
“Accurate as always, darling.”
“Well,” Becky said, “there’s really only one villain I can think of who would mess with the minds of everyone in Fair City.”
  It was almost embarrassingly easy to break into Mr. Big’s skyscraper.  The computerized security system was down, and whatever security guards roamed the halls were quickly dispatched by WordGirl.
Tobey, for his part, stood behind her and swooned dramatically every time she took another one down.  She was mostly sure he was joking.
Mostly.
It helped that Mr. Big and Leslie themselves were caught in the loop, arguing ceaselessly about some budgetary report or another that was due the next day.
Wouldn’t they be in for a rude awakening.
The basement where Mr. Big kept his spare mind control devices was an echoing, cavernous place, littered with ominous monuments, strange obelisks.
“Bloody hell,” Tobey swore lowly.  “This place is massive!  How are we supposed to find the one that’s causing all of this.”
Becky tapped his shoulder.  “Call me crazy, but I have a hunch it's the one over there that’s glowing an ominous green and sparking, like it wasn’t destroyed properly the first time and is now malfunctioning.”
“Huh.”  Tobey turned, hands on his hips.  “Yeah, that’ll do it.”
Becky pulled back her fist.  Tobey picked up a length of pipe before nearly topping over and deciding to leave it to the professional.
One hit.  
The machine sparked and wobbled.  Tobey suddenly forgot what he’d had for breakfast that morning.
Then another.  
It cracked down the middle.  Tobey blinked, rubbing his temple, trying to remember if his remotes used low or high pass filters.
Then it was over.
(Ah, Tobey thought to himself. Bandpass filters, obviously.  And oatmeal.)
“Well,” Tobey said, looking at the thing smoldering on the ground before them.  Good riddance.”
“Tobey,” Becky said, turning to him.  “Did you get me cotton candy ice cream yesterday?”
“I did.”  His eyebrows furrowed.  “How on Earth did you– no.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, grinning devilishly.  “Now, what was that about you knowing I’m WordGirl because of the massive crush you have on both of us?”
“I changed my mind.”  He scrambled past her, towards the device, laughing as she grabbed him by the waist, hauling him back.  “Let me fix the machine.  I choose the time loop.”
“Not a chance, McCallister,” she said, tapping his nose.  “You’re stuck with me now, memories and all.”
“Well,” Tobey said.  “How could I complain about that?”
If either of them had bothered looking at their phones, now clear of static, they would have seen that it was a Tuesday.
But they had much more pleasant things to be thinking of.
  “So,” Becky said, once they had crept in through the window to her room.  “How will we know if it still works?  From what I remember now, I crushed the machine once, before the loop started, and that’s when all of this got kicked off.”
Tobey just shook his head, offering a half-hearted smile.  “I suppose we’ll know in the morning.”
“Stay with me,” she asked.  “Please?  I don’t… I’m going to lose my mind if I wake up to Mamma Mia alone again.”
“I will,” Tobey said, softly.  “I promise.”
Bob’s hammock was too small, so they made him a cot of Becky’s spare pillows and blankets, nesting him down at Becky’s bedside.  
“Good night, Becky,” he said, softly.
“Good night, Tobey.”  She reached down, finding his hand with her own.  “See you tomorrow?”
He squeezed.  “See you tomorrow.”
  Mamma Mia!
Becky’s eyes cracked open to the sound of ABBA.
Here we go again! My, my, how could I forget ya?
She sat straight up, chest heaving, eyes wide.
“No,” she breathed, scrambling out of bed.  “No, no, no, no–”
“Good morning, my dear.”  Tobey stood in the doorway, a wicked grin on his lips, a perfectly functional cellphone in his hand, blasting music.  “I hope you slept well?  Your father is making some sort of quiche, and he has several questions about what I’m doing in your house.”
She stared at him incredulously for a long moment, but he just winked, clicking the music up even louder.
My, my, how could I resist you?
“You, McCallister,” she said, stalking forward and grabbing him by the collar.  “Are lucky that you’re cute.”
Mamma Mia, now I really know.
There was a smile on his lips, a bite of mischief in his eyes, and it was the last thing Becky saw before she kissed him.
My, my, I could never let you go.
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impatentpending · 2 years
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Metanoia – A Turning Saints into the Sea Playlist
The journey of changing one’s heart, mind, or way of life
for day three of @tobeckyweek, I proudly present (a curated version of) my TSITS playlist! Two songs for every chapter posted, in order, and three for the chapter that is yet to come.
youtube link here!
Shallow / wrapped up in books
burnin’ for you / Medicine (royal sugar)
only the good die young / starry eyes
apocalypse / I’ll be good
people will say we’re in love /  I don’t wanna talk about it
I don’t know how to love him / please please please let me get what i want
Mary on a cross / hit and run / Mr. Brightside
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clarissasbakery · 2 years
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first four entries for @tobeckyweek !! last ones are special so i am saving them tee hee
anyways enjoy!!! in order from left to right, it's day 4, day 5, day 3, and day 1 💕 i didnt follow some of the prompts but who cares
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animation-is-my-jam · 2 years
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Day 1- An introduction (Altschmerz)
Just wanted to start out Tobecky week with a simple intro, a re-drawing/edit of that scene in the show when they go to the art museum, except Tobey brings along Becky to show off a painting he did of them. He’s showing off that she’s a very cherished friend and wants to display it….but to Becky and any other bystander it looks a sappy confession (which it sorta is 😂) @tobeckyweek
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ima-space-child · 2 years
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Tobecky Week Day 3 Metanoia: (noun) The journey of changing one's mind, heart, or way of life.
Decided to do a little something special today and drew a scene from one of my favorite Wordgirl fics! (Seriously read Turning Saints into the Sea on Ao3 if you haven't it is absolutely incredible)
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murphi-nyah · 2 years
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tobecky week
day 6: storge
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weezer blue eyed boy with his little weezer rats and weezer girlfriend. i have an agenda to push and i will continue to push it.
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day 1 of my tobecky week prompts: chibis!
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little :)
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lid-the-kid · 2 years
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Tobecky Week day 6- Storge
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