twelve trailers. one signature.
each month a long-form bedtime story drops in the app. a week before, a two-minute world-reveal film lands on YouTube, social and the app to get kids excited for it. these are the scripts. fully wordless, like a Pixar teaser: gorgeous shots, a few cards that pose the night’s feeling, an epic-but-tender score. they sell the feeling, never the whole story.
The First Night
Fear → Comfort ▶ See the full storyboard ✎ Hand-drawn board ⧉ Open editable studioThe storyThe series premiere, so the trailer does double duty. It introduces Tuck and his whole world (every night, a new dream to keep) and tells the first story: a child's first night in a big new dark room, where the dark learns to be kind.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Pure black, dead center. A single warm spark catches and holds.
Silence. One soft piano note.
MACRO on the lantern wick: the little flame swells, warm light flaring into the lens. Slow rack focus.
A low, warm swell rises under it.
MATCH CUT to WIDE: the lit lantern on a bedside table, one tiny gold glow marooned in a vast blue-dark bedroom.
EVERY NIGHT, WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT,
Theme enters, hushed.
LOW ANGLE from the floorboards: the child’s bed rises like a mountain, a tall moonlit window beyond, the room huge and unfamiliar.
Low strings, a small unease.
CUTAWAY pair, quick: a coat on a hook reads as a hunched shadow; bare branches tick at the glass.
THE DARK FEELS BIG.
A creak. A held breath.
CLOSE on the child, curled under the duvet, eyes wide, blanket gripped to the chin, frightened by the new room.
Fragile, thin high strings.
MACRO on the folded plum blanket at the foot of the bed: two sleepy stitched eyes blink slowly open in the knit.
SOMETHING WAKES.
A single bright bell.
The little blanket unfolds and pushes itself upright. Tuck stretches, blinks, and takes in the enormous dark room for the first time.
MEET TUCK.
A curious, warm motif.
WIDE, Tuck tiny on the great rumpled duvet, tilting his head up at the glowing lantern across the bed.
A gentle rising figure.
Low tracking shot beside him: Tuck waddles across the duvet, clambers over a fold of blanket, and reaches the edge by the bedside table.
A light, padding rhythm.
LOW ANGLE: Tuck stretches up on tiptoe with both stubby arms and lifts the lantern off the table; it’s nearly his own size.
A lift in the strings.
As he raises it, a WARM POOL of gold spills across the floorboards and the shadows slide back to the walls.
HE KEEPS THE DREAMS.
Theme blooms, warm.
The hunched coat-shadow resolves into just a coat; a dark lump becomes a friendly stuffed rabbit. Tuck pats its ear.
A reassuring turn, a small smile in the music.
OTS from behind the child’s pillow: the child peeks over the duvet, watching the little glowing creature cross the room.
Tender, opening up.
WORLD-PROMISE FLASH 1: the bedroom walls melt away to a vast moonlit cloud-sea, Tuck tiny with his lantern.
EVERY NIGHT,
Music opens wide, awe.
FLASH 2: a colossal star-whale glides overhead through drifting stars.
the rush builds.
FLASH 3: a field of a thousand floating golden dream-lanterns. FLASH 4: snow under a red-and-green aurora.
A NEW WORLD.
the montage peaks, goosebumps.
SNAP back to the bedroom, soft and golden now, the dark gone friendly. The child sits up against the headboard, calm.
settles, warm.
TWO-SHOT: Tuck holds the lantern up between himself and the child; a first tiny dream-wisp blooms out of the flame and lifts.
a shimmering, held note.
CLOSE on the child’s face, fear gone, gold-lit, a finger reaching up toward the floating wisp. Pure wonder.
swell, the held breath.
HERO WIDE: Tuck and the child, the dream-wisp drifting between them, the whole room brimming with soft warm light.
the peak.
The child’s eyes drift closed, asleep. Tuck tugs the duvet up to their chin, lifts the lantern, and steps quietly back into its glow. Toward black.
THE FIRST NIGHT
peak resolves to one held note.
Black. The lantern glow alone, breathing softly.
A new dream, every month.
a soft chime.
Black. The PLUM wordmark fades up, the lantern dotting the i.
PLUM. Beginning January.
one final warm note.
The One That Got Away
Frustration → PatienceThe storyTuck chases a dream that refuses to be caught, and learns some dreams come closest when you stop grabbing for them.
SIGNATURE OPEN. The lantern blooms and we fall into the world.
Piano note, warm swell.
A moonlit meadow of tall silver grass, bright dream-lights darting through it.
SOME DREAMS DON'T WANT TO BE CAUGHT.
Playful pizzicato theme.
A dream zips past. Tuck lunges, misses, tumbles softly into the grass.
TUCK TRIED.
Light comedic strings.
Again, leaping through the grass, the dream always a hair ahead.
...AND TRIED.
Tempo rises into a chase.
Tuck stops. Out of breath. Lets it go. Sits down in the grass.
Music thins to a single line.
The dream slows, circles back, and dances around the still little keeper.
MAYBE SOME YOU JUST LET DANCE.
Warm theme returns, gentle.
Tuck close, smiling-eyed, dream-lights orbiting his lantern.
Swell, tender.
SIGNATURE CLOSE. Black; lantern glow alone.
THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. February.
Chime. PLUM mark.
Too Big to Tuck
Small → BraveThe storyA dream grows enormous, far bigger than its tiny keeper. Tuck has to be braver than his size.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms; we fall into a vast night land.
EVERY NIGHT, TUCK KEEPS THE DREAMS SAFE.
Warm theme.
A shape rises on the horizon, and rises, and rises: a colossal star-whale dream filling the sky.
SOME NIGHTS, THE DREAM IS BIGGER THAN HE IS.
Low awe; strings climb.
Tiny Tuck at its feet, lantern trembling in his grip.
A held breath, near silence.
Tuck plants his feet and lifts the lantern high.
THE SMALLEST KEEPER-
A single rising note.
The giant dream bows its great head to the small warm light.
-THE BRAVEST OF ALL.
Full swell, goosebumps.
Tuck close, lit gold; the giant soft and gentle behind him.
Peak, warm resolve.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
TOO BIG TO TUCK
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. March.
Chime. PLUM mark.
Rainy Dreams
Avoidance → TendernessThe storyTuck meets a small, crying dream and learns the sad ones need keeping most of all.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into a soft blue glowing rain-forest, dripping light.
NOT EVERY DREAM IS HAPPY.
Gentle melancholy piano; rain.
A tiny dream sits alone in the rain, glowing dim, teary.
SOME ARRIVE IN THE RAIN.
A lonely cello line.
Tuck hesitates, then steps in and holds a big luminous leaf over it like an umbrella.
Warmth seeps into the music.
The little dream brightens under the shelter; the lantern warms them both.
AND THOSE NEED KEEPING MOST OF ALL.
Theme lifts, tender.
Tuck close in the gentle rain, the dream now glowing safe beside him, a puddle full of warm light.
Swell, bittersweet and hopeful.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
RAINY DREAMS
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. April.
Chime. PLUM mark.
The Lost Sock Galaxy
Worry → JoyThe storyThe playful one. Tuck discovers where every lost thing in the world goes: an entire galaxy of single socks, lost mittens, and runaway marbles.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into deep violet space full of floating lost things.
EVER LOSE JUST ONE SOCK?
Whimsical, twinkly theme.
Tuck drifts on a little cloud past a planet-sized teddy bear and a moon made of a mitten.
TUCK FOUND WHERE THEY GO.
Playful, wondrous.
A comet of odd socks streaks by. Tuck’s eyes go wide; he grabs one and waves it like a flag.
...ALL OF THEM.
A delighted brass wink.
Tuck close, beaming-eyed, happy lost trinkets orbiting his lantern.
Bright, joyful swell.
Pull way back: the whole sock galaxy spirals, endless and silly and beautiful.
Theme peaks, grin-worthy.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
THE LOST SOCK GALAXY
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. May.
Chime. PLUM mark.
The Longest Day
Impatience → TrustThe storyMidsummer. The sun simply will not set. Tuck learns to wait for the dark, and to trust that it always comes.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into an endless warm golden-dusk field, a low amber sun stuck on the horizon.
THE SUN WOULD NOT GO DOWN.
Long, warm, patient strings.
Tuck checks the sky. Still bright. Sits. Checks again.
TUCK WAITED.
A gentle ticking motif.
The light barely shifts; Tuck dozes and wakes on a grassy hill.
Music drifts, drowsy.
At last the amber sun dips. The very first star wakes.
THE DARK ALWAYS COMES.
A rising shimmer.
Tuck close on the dusk hill, lantern glowing as night finally falls soft and blue.
IT'S WORTH THE WAIT.
Warm resolve; stars.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
THE LONGEST DAY
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. June.
Chime. PLUM mark.
Tuck's Own Dream
Giving → ReceivingThe storyThe keeper of every dream is finally sleepy himself. So who keeps Tuck’s dream? A tiny friend does.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into a cozy world of giant pillows and clouds.
TUCK KEEPS EVERYONE'S DREAMS.
Soft lullaby theme.
Tuck’s eyes droop. He yawns, sways, fights it.
BUT TONIGHT, TUCK IS SLEEPY TOO.
Music slows, tender.
Tuck curls into a giant pillow, lantern dimming beside him.
WHO KEEPS THE KEEPER'S DREAM?
A single soft question of a note.
A tiny glowing firefly drifts down, picks up the lantern, and stands watch.
Warmth blooms; the roles reverse.
Tuck close, fast asleep and safe, the little light keeping vigil over him.
Gentle swell, full-hearted.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
TUCK'S OWN DREAM
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. July.
Chime. PLUM mark.
The New Kid
Jealousy → BelongingThe storyA second child, a second lantern, another keeper across the dark. Tuck learns the night is big enough to share.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into the dark; far off, a second small warm light glows that isn’t Tuck’s.
FOR SO LONG, THE NIGHT WAS TUCK’S.
Theme, a touch wistful.
Tuck watches the other light warily across a void. A bridge of glow begins to form between them.
THEN A SECOND LIGHT APPEARED.
Two motifs circling, uneasy.
Tuck steps onto the bridge of light; a second small keeper steps from the other side.
The two themes start to harmonize.
At the center, two lanterns nearly touch; the bridge blazes warm.
THERE'S ROOM FOR ONE MORE.
Full, joined swell.
Tuck close, a second warm glow beside his, the dark now twice as bright.
Warm resolve.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
THE NEW KID
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. August.
Chime. PLUM mark.
Back to the Dark
Resistance → RhythmThe storyAfter a bright summer, bedtime gets hard again. Tuck rebuilds the ritual, lighting a way back through a tangled dark.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into an autumn dusk curdling into a tangled forest of dark glowing vines.
SOME NIGHTS, YOU DON'T WANT TO GO.
Theme, reluctant, minor.
Brambles knot the path; the way forward is lost in shadow.
THE WAY BACK CAN BE TANGLED.
Low, thorny strings.
Tuck lifts the lantern; the vines unknot, a glowing path opening step by step.
A steady, rebuilding pulse.
The path resolves into somewhere familiar and safe; the dark organizes into calm.
BUT THE LIGHT STILL KNOWS THE WAY.
Theme returns to major, settling.
Tuck close among the now-gentle glowing vines, lantern warm.
Warm resolve.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
BACK TO THE DARK
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. September.
Chime. PLUM mark.
What's Under the Bed
Fear → FriendshipThe storyThe gently spooky one. The shadow under the bed isn't a monster. It's just lonely, and waiting for a friend.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into the cool-blue dark under a bed: dust-bunny hills, looming toy shapes.
EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT'S UNDER THE BED.
Hushed, playful-spooky theme.
A large shadow shifts in the deep dark. Two unsure eyes blink. The lantern trembles.
TUCK WENT TO LOOK.
A suspended, tip-toe motif.
Tuck steps closer and raises the lantern; the shadow flinches, shy, not fierce.
Tension softens.
The light reveals a big gentle creature, lonely and hopeful. Tuck offers the lantern.
IT WASN'T A MONSTER.
Warmth breaks through.
Tuck close beside the gentle shadow-friend, both lit warm.
IT WAS A FRIEND.
Tender swell, relief.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
WHAT'S UNDER THE BED
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. October.
Chime. PLUM mark.
The Gratitude Dream
Doubt → GratitudeThe storyQuiet and warm. Tuck gathers a whole year of kept dreams and, for the first time, gives thanks.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into a vast field of thousands of floating golden dream-lanterns.
A WHOLE YEAR OF DREAMS.
Slow, full, grateful theme.
Tuck walks among the lights; each one a memory of a night kept safe.
EVERY ONE, KEPT SAFE.
Strings layer, swelling.
Tuck lifts one dream and lets it rise to join the thousands above.
TONIGHT, TUCK SAYS THANK YOU.
A soaring, warm lift.
Tuck close among the golden lights, full-hearted, lantern glowing.
Peak, deeply warm.
Pull back: a sky entirely full of gentle gold, a year made visible.
Held, glowing.
SIGNATURE CLOSE.
THE GRATITUDE DREAM
Held note.
Black.
A new dream. November.
Chime. PLUM mark.
The Brightest Nightfinale
BecomingThe storyThe holiday finale. On the brightest, snowiest night of the year, every single dream Tuck ever kept lights up at once.
SIGNATURE OPEN. Lantern blooms into a hushed snowy world at night: pines, soft drifts, one warm lantern.
ONE YEAR. / EVERY DREAM, KEPT.
The full theme begins, reverent.
Across the snow, the first kept dream rises and glows; then another; then a hundred.
TONIGHT, THEY ALL COME HOME.
Choir-like warmth enters.
The whole winter sky ignites: a Christmas aurora of gold, green and rose, every dream of the year blooming at once.
Enormous, goosebump swell.
Tuck tiny in the snow beneath it, lantern raised, the sky remembering everything.
AND THE WHOLE SKY REMEMBERS.
Peak of the year.
Tuck close on the snow, lit by a thousand warm colors, gentle snow falling.
Resolve, warm enough to tear up.
SIGNATURE CLOSE. Black; the lantern glow alone.
THE BRIGHTEST NIGHT
One held note.
Black.
The dream of the year. December.
Soft sleigh-bell chime. PLUM mark.
the trailers are fully wordless. the long-form stories they launch are narrated: a warm storyteller voice carries the words while Tuck stays wordless throughout, present only in soft hums, sighs and wonder. one ownable voice, one universal character, across film and story alike.
each two-minute film is cut down the same week into a 60s landscape, two 15s verticals, a 6s bumper and ambient loops, the engine that carries one launch across every channel.