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florapal · 11 months

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enchanted to meet you.

welcome home ! / ot8 x human!reader , can be seen as romantic or platonic.

what they like abt u <333

no warnings.

first welcome home writing piece ever ... I hope you little tulips enjoy<3 inspired by so many human readers I've seen n read !

humanity.

that was what made you different from your neighbors— your humanity. your flesh, and your bone, and every blood vessel you had— every vein, every nail, every tooth and every beat of your heart— it made you different. they were made of felt. they had nothing but stuffing in their bodies, they were literally puppets. they didn't need almost everything you did— food, toothbrushes, skincare (probably). water made them sink so deep into the ground, they could barely move.

but you— you were vastly different from them, and you naturally— knew more. they came to you for most of their endeavors; even the smartest neighbor, your predecessor— frank frankly— came to you once in a while.

they asked you about what it was like , how it was like , to be a human. why did you need this? why did you need that? what would happen if [...]? what would never happen? curiosity, curiosity, curiosity. you couldn't blame them, either, seeing as you were equally curious about the world around you. this foreign world that you, like, literally dreamed of— you dreamed about this world so often, that you theorize its what got you sent here in the first place. a gap made in the multiverse, you theorize, opened during your sleep. until then, you had been an overseer, not directly interacting with anyone from the neighborhood.

it must've taken one gap in space. one lapse in time, in the order of the universe. one thing to confuse your conscience, and in turn confused your senses. your dream felt real, now, as a familiar voice called to you— and you opened your eyes.

wally darling.

you freaked out a bit, after that.

who wouldn't? who wouldn't, in such worlds like this one.

the sky shines brighter here.

everything's brighter, to be fair.

even you are.

surrounded by constant support & love , comforted and relied on— you don't believe yourself deserving of this, but they do.

poppy partridge is, no joke, a mother hen. poppy is the first to offer housing, to offer nutrition and to offer company— she cares, she cares, and she cares some more. she finds herself running a wing down your hair , entranced by every strand and every split end. counting each strand you have eases her , to some extent. it helps her cool down, just as her presence in general helps you cool down.

julie joyful is as joyful as her surname suggests. she takes your hand without fear, she doesn't hesitate to know you— she pushes you to talk about yourself , even. she finds herself interested in your fingers. she fiddles with them unconsciously, intrigued by every callous, intrigued by every line on your palm— intrigued by your nails. she traces the lines on your palms absentmindedly — uncharacteristically quiet as she listens to you talk about your world.

barnaby b. beagle makes you laugh the moment you meet him. all it takes is a clever punch line , and you're giggling like mad— and barnaby prides himself on the fact he is able to make you laugh. he is curious about your smile— for the first time he saw it, he saw a row of white pearls shining up at him. it looked like a treasure chest being opened, as weird as it sounded. barnaby only hopes that he'll make you smile each and every day— he wouldn't know what he'd do if he saw your teeth gritting— be it in anger, or sadness. he hopes he never will know.

eddie dear is your pen pal who delivers his letters himself. in these letters, you tell him of your hobbies and your pet peeves, your no's and your yes', your dos and don'ts. you tell him everything, and in turn, he tells you everything aswell. can you blame him if he is enamored by how you speak? like, literally, how you speak. he does, indeed, find your voice calming— something he must savour. but he cannot fathom the fact you don't need a voice box, and whenever you speak— your neck?? vibrates?? he is eager to learn about human anatomy! it'd be even better from you, as sadly, what you say is almost always on paper.

sally starlet is in her prime theater kid era, as you said. you stated it once and she has never let it go. yes, she is infact in her prime ! she enjoys the thrill , the applause and the fun ! she's also, however, thrilled by your ideas. you, as someone from another world, bring such wonderful things onto the table that— in her brilliance, she makes possible. she wonders if the sun is inside of you, for your ideas brighten up every day she lives. yes, tell her more about your little disney movies, she's taking notes and planning to create another to add into that category! the best one yet! perhaps you could be the lead?

howdy pillar is , in your words , a funky dude with nice arms. he appreciates the compliment. the supplier of most of the towns goods, he gets in good business— but he thinks whenever you're there, he gets better business! your drive is contagious, and he wants to get more things done when you're in his vicinity. you motivate him unknowingly to better his shop, as you better your situation in this neighborhood. he's proud of you, neighbor, he hopes you are of him too.

frank frankly is fascinated with you. he seems to be interested in your knowledge of insects , but he seems to be interested in your general knowledge too. you know more than he does , been out and about more than he's been— seen more bugs than he has, you are literally from a different world— a world he wants to know all about. there is so much going on in your brilliant mind, every time you converse— he believes he's only ever receiving a morsel of your intellect. perhaps you'd be free tomorrow, to meet up and to engage in intellectual things?

wally darling is intrigued. he hears a beat in your chest, he says, and you nod. he places a hand on your chest, over your heart, and it beats. he looks at you in awe. he doesn't know what this is, but it is part of you, and if it's part of you— it's aweworthy. this mindset goes for every part of you— all of you is beautiful to him. however, he must say, he enjoys the way your eyes crease whenever you smile. eyes are windows to the soul, you told him, and he couldn't agree more— especially the moment your eyes sparkled when he told you he loved you. how did you interpret this ? you did not know, all you know is that you love him too.

each puppet finds solace in you, as cliché as it sounds. as different as you are from them, flesh & bone to felt & fur , they can not deny that, just as they were with every neighbor,

they were enchanted to meet you.

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starleska · 1 year

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The Nightmare Picnic - Wally Darling x Reader

You're a brand new resident in the wonderful Welcome Home Neighbourhood, and it's the perfect day for the picnic! But your dear friend Wally Darling doesn't seem to be enjoying the fun. What will happen when you decide to try and cheer him up?

content warnings for: eye imagery, scopophobia, hypnosis, impossible physics, Eldritch, and unreality. go in assuming that Wally is a weird little guy, and you’re both terrified of and kind of enjoy that fact! 😉 you can also find this fic on my AO3. i hope you enjoy!!

The day you learn how to love Wally Darling begins like any other.

It is a balmy day, the air soft and thick and dizzy with butterflies. The sun shines with relentless cheer, and nary a cloud can be seen in the sky. Such a day in the Neighbourhood cannot be spent languishing inside, and all your new neighbours think the same way. So, which lovely activity did they decide upon? Why, a picnic on the grass, of course!

The organisation of the event is efficient and cheerful. In no time, the lush meadow surrounding the outskirts of the Neighbourhood is replete with cosy blankets to lie on, fun games to play, and a plethora of delicious foods contributed by each neighbour. Luckily, you’d baked a whole tray of cupcakes the previous day, with the intent of handing them out when bumping into your neighbours going about their daily business. The cupcakes were a huge success; even the ever-curmudgeonly Frank, who always has something to complain about, graces you with a begrudging, “It’s good, I suppose,” when you hand him a vanilla cupcake topped with a green-icing butterfly.

'I needed this,’ you think as you look around at your new friends. You’ve only been a resident of the Neighbourhood for a few months, but in that time you’ve grown so close to its colourful cast of neighbours as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Right now, they’re dotted across the meadow, smiling and laughing without a care in the world: Howdy’s busy putting together an impossibly long string of daisy chains; Eddie and Sally peer into an origami fortune-teller and giggle at the results; Frank leans over a bush, studying a caterpillar, and Julie and Poppy clap and cheer whilst Barnaby entertains them with a juggling act.

It’s a gorgeous scene. Today, your heart is warm.

A small flash of yellow catches your eye. Of course, it’s an incomplete picture. You take in Wally, who sits cross-legged under the shade of a verdant apple tree. He’s holding an apple between both hands and staring at it intently, as if willing the fruit to communicate with him. It’s an odd expression - you aren’t used to seeing Wally in a state of concentration.

“Hey, Wally!” you call.

Wally looks up at you and smiles. He beckons you over.

“Hello,” says Wally, in his simple way. “I’m happy to see you.”

Oh, what a beautiful voice. Every time you hear Wally speak, it’s like the gentle lapping of his syllables sweep away your worries in a single wave.

As you get closer to Wally, you notice a few strands of his deep blue hair turning flyaway and giving in to the heat, curling away from the otherwise-immaculate pompadour and escaping the death-grip of his hairspray. He’s a little dishevelled elsewhere, too; Wally’s neckerchief is coming loose, and though he’s long since abandoned his cardigan, a stray button on his shirt remains stubbornly popped. You find yourself grinning. Wally takes such pride in his appearance that you never get to see him a little less than perfect.

“Same to you!” you say. “Aren’t you hungry? All the food’s down with the others.”

That unusually pensive look on Wally’s face deepens. He turns his eyes back to his apple. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” You rummage in your backpack and pull out a chocolate bar. “You’ve got to eat, bud. You not feeling so good?”

Wally takes the treat from you and examines it for a moment, as if the bar is a scientific curiosity. “That’s very nice of you…but this doesn’t work for me. You should keep it.”

When Wally hands the bar back, your fingers touch for the briefest moment, and a shiver works its way up your spine.

You don’t know when this… thing you have for Wally Darling began. Despite the countless nights you’ve spent desperately trying to focus on something, anything else, your thoughts inevitably return to the little yellow puppet-man and his catlike smile. There’s a strange magnetism to Wally which befits his profession as a television host; everything from the delicate way he handles his paintbrush, to his ridiculous affinity for apples, leaves you with a little more fondness than before. Wally has so much affection stored in one small body, and when you first met, you wondered how any person could love so much all at once.

But now, when you look at Wally, you understand.

“If you’re sure.” You pop the bar back into your bag and sit on the ground in front of Wally, mirroring his cross-legged pose. “The offer’s still there.”

“It’s tempting,” says Wally, now turning his apple over and over in his hands. “I’d like to know what would happen, if I tried. But Barnaby told me it isn’t worth the risk. I trust him to know.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, but the look on Wally’s face is so uncharacteristically brooding that you don’t feel it’s polite to pry. Wally’s always been the drifting sort: those large, dewy eyes of his are perpetually lidded, and always seem to be gazing at something no one else can see. But Wally’s inattentiveness is usually matched with an infectious, excited kind of energy, bursting with nonsense and love.

Today, he almost looks sad. The idea makes you feel sick.

It occurs to you that this may be a personal issue, and Wally doesn’t know you well enough to discuss it. So you ask, “Do you want me to look away?”

Wally’s fingers still. To your surprise, the apple actually drops from his hands and rolls into the grass. You’ve never seen Wally mistreat an apple before - there must be something seriously wrong.

“Actually,” says Wally, now looking at you properly, “I’d like to try something.”

He gestures for you to shuffle closer. When you do, Wally reaches forward and takes hold of your forearms. You make a surprised noise, but Wally squeezes you, and fixes you with a smile full of reassurance and warmth. A rush of heat leaps into your cheeks, and you’re suddenly reminded of an interaction you had with another neighbour not too long ago.

It was only a week after you arrived in the Neighbourhood, and you were finally moving the last of your belongings into your home. All of your new neighbours had graciously donated their time to help you in some fashion, and you were overcome with gratitude. On that final day you were more than capable of doing the rest of the moving yourself, but your closest neighbour - the excitable Julie Joyful - volunteered to help with the last handful of delicate items. At first, you were unsure - Julie is a lovely girl and incredibly fun to be around, but so spirited that you feared for the safety of your items. But a good twenty minutes of allowing her to help with the least fragile of your boxes allayed all your fears: Julie moves with the grace of a ballerina, and the two of you soon had all your boxes stacked in your living room.

Burnt orange sunlight poured through the window, streaming soon-to-be-dusk and casting the wooden floorboards with a vibrant glow. You take a moment from the heavy lifting to look out the window. Across the lawn, you can make out a couple of your neighbours engaging in some game. Upon closer inspection, you realise it’s Wally and Barnaby, the former laughing and tossing a series of colourful balls for Barnaby to catch.

You watched as Wally swung his arm and threw a few of the balls a surprising distance, letting the large, spotted dog race off to retrieve them. Wally put his hands on his hips, as if exhausted by the exertion. He turned - and locked eyes with you. Wally’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he gave you a hearty wave. Feeling horribly embarrassed, you waved back, trying to ignore the painful squeezing of your heart. You’ve only known Wally a week, and yet you’re utterly charmed by everything he does.

A tug on your arm brought you back to the present: it’s Julie. She bats her long eyelashes at you, a knowing smile on her face.

“You like hiiiiim, ” she teased, her voice all sing-song.

“What?!”

You grabbed Julie by the shoulders and yanked her away from the window, as if Wally could somehow hear you both through sight. “No! I don’t know where you got an idea like that-”

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t need to pretend.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. You’d always been the careful type, ensuring your innermost thoughts and feelings stayed stuffed as far down as possible to keep you safe. But the Neighbourhood bred a kind of emotional honesty with which you were totally unfamiliar. Everyone is so exuberant, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves - some of them even literally, as plenty of your new neighbours wore outfits stitched with cute little hearts! Keeping a secret in the Neighbourhood felt wrong…even a secret crush on the silly little artist whose smile lit up your insides.

So, you give in. “How did you know?”

Julie giggles. She fishes in the pocket of her dress, and pulls out a daisy.

“I know a lot about flowers,” she explained, as she twirled the stem between her fingers. “What kinds grow in different meadows. How much sun and water and love they need to grow. They show it in their petals, and how they lean. People are a lot like that too.

“When you arrived, you looked…wilted. Like you’d been kept out of the sun for too long. I could see it, but didn’t want to ask why. I think everyone else could, too…and we all wanted to help a new friend who lost their colour.”

“You’ve all been so lovely to me,” you said, by way of thanks.

Julie nodded. “Sure we have! And it worked, for a little bit. But for a flower at the end of its days, even fresh soil, plenty of sun and lots of water can only do so much. Your petals seemed faded for good. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to be happy - whatever that looks like for you.”

You swallowed. “You see a lot, for a gardener.”

Julie smiled. “When you care for flowers, you learn to listen to their needs. Sometimes, you’ll have a flower who has everything in the world…but they’re still curling up, and shying away from the light.”

She pressed the daisy into your palm.

“Wally brings the colour back to your petals,” said Julie. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t hide from your sun.”

Another squeeze from Wally brings you out of your recollection. You suck in a deep breath, facing this new reality of Wally holding you, his fingers pleasantly warm and fuzzy.

“Close your eyes,” says Wally gently.

For anyone else, you would’ve paused - but for Wally, you comply immediately.

Slowly, you feel Wally’s hands slide down your arms to your hands. He threads his fingers through yours and holds them firm, so tight that you start to feel your blood thrumming from the pressure. Your hearing, sensitive now your sight is compromised, picks up the distant chatter of your neighbours, as well as the friendly sounds of nature at play. Your skin tingles, sweat-slicked from the heat and the nerves.

“I have a question,” says Wally, his voice wonderfully calm and soft.

“Yes?”

“Why do you eat?”

“Uh…” What kind of question was that? Wally is admittedly prone to posing questions that only a truly strange mind would think up, but this one is so baffling, you’re thrown entirely for a loop. “...So I don’t die, I guess?”

“Ha ha ha ha!” Wally’s unique, halting laugh almost startles you into opening your eyes. “You’re so funny. Okay. Do you know why I eat?”

This time, it takes you a little longer to answer. A simple enough question, surely with the exact same answer? But Wally’s voice has taken on a teasing, knowing edge - a sound you recognise from when he’s setting up a punchline. The question must be a trick. So you rack your brains, trying to think of all the times you’d seen Wally eat: where he was, what he was eating.

With your eyes still closed, you reach a strange realisation.

“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”

A soft chuckle from Wally. “That’s right. You haven’t.”

Wally’s grip on your hand tightens. Strangely, a weak, static noise buzzes to life, seemingly from inside your skull. You shift, trying to locate the source, but Wally holds you in place. As the noise grows, the sounds of your friends fizzle out and die. It’s as if you’ve been placed on an invisible train and are moving steadily down the track, away from all the familiar sounds of your Neighbourhood - but you can’t feel the rumbling of the track, or hear the whistle of the wind.

“But…maybe you should.”

With Wally’s words the temperature noticeably drops, and gooseflesh breaks out on your arms. You shudder, wanting to open your eyes but finding that you can’t: your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. You’re stuck in place, pinioned to the grass (which you can no longer feel) as that buzzing sound inches up by the decibel, a nasty, steady crawl which leaves your brain awash in a sea of noise.

“Open your eyes.”

You do so.

And you can’t make sense of what you see.

The sky is gone. The tree is gone. The meadow is gone. Every detail from the Neighbourhood’s comforting landscape has evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a grayscale emptiness which fuzzes in and out like television static. Even the awful buzzing sound abruptly falls away, leaving your ears with nothing but the distant sound of an unseen tide.

Wally still sits in front of you, his hands grasping yours, but it’s like he’s sitting on nothing at all: somehow supported by a cushion of emptiness. It’s like the texture of the world has fallen out of reality.

Seized by vertigo, you tighten your grip on Wally’s hands. “What’s happening?!”

“Don’t worry,” says Wally. “You’re safe.”

“There’s nothing here,” you whisper. “Where is everyone?”

“Back Home,” says Wally. “They can’t see us right now. They’re not ready.” His smile turns coy. “But I think you are. Watch this.”

Wally reaches over and rustles in your backpack. Your heart crawls into your mouth; although you can see Wally’s hands in front of you, you can somehow still feel his hands holding both of yours, keeping you locked in place. You try to look down and make sense of this impossibility, but your eyes are stuck, glued to Wally’s face. You can only watch, terrified, as he takes out your chocolate bar and locks in his gaze.

Without warning, Wally’s eyes flare open, heavy lids drawing back and revealing the full size of his large, black pupils. Wally’s stare travels steadily down the chocolate bar, a focused intensity searing from his eyes like a laser. Somehow as he stares, bite marks are chunked out of the chocolate, as if some great invisible person is taking enormous chomps out of both the bar and wrapper. In seconds, the chocolate is gone.

Panic grips your chest, and you start to hyperventilate. The world tilts, and you’re scared you might actually puke. Wally blinks, his eyelids half-blanketing those pupils once more, and he looks at you with concern. When his eyes connect, your chest convulses with panic: a type of terror you’ve never experienced before threatening to claw its way out of your body and devour you whole.

“What happened?!”

“Oh, don’t be scared,” says Wally, his voice floating and cloudlike. “This is just how I eat.”

“How - did you - do - that?” you gasp.

“I’m not sure. I’ve always eaten this way.” Wally inclines his head in sympathy. “I am sorry if I’ve made you afraid. I usually only eat when others are blinking. That way, I don’t interrupt them. I don’t want to be rude."

You suck in a huge gulp of breath. “Wally, this is…impossible,” you manage. “I want to leave - I want to go Home-”

“You can’t.”

Wally shakes his head mildly from side to side, but his eyes seem to stay still, locked into the centre of his face. No matter how much you strain to move, those incredible eyes remain right in front of you, always at the same distance, never looking away - and never blinking. In your peripheral vision, you see Wally’s hand reach up towards your face. He cups your cheek. The sensation of feeling three arms belonging to a two-armed person on your body sends a rush of nausea through your throat. Wally strokes your skin with his thumb.

“You understand me so well,” says Wally. “You see me, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand.” Another wave of dizziness rises up, pushing behind your eyeballs. The sensation is the same as the pressure of allergies arising on a high pollen day - yet you can no longer smell the flowers of the meadow. You try again in vain to rip your gaze away from Wally’s, but you can’t - and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Wally’s thumb stops, resting in the dip of your cheek. “I love my friends, but they only see one part of me. The part they want to see. But you…”

His thumb trails to the edge of your lip.

“...you see all of me.”

You’re split in two. Your brain, the logical part of your thinking, is screaming at you to do anything - to move, to scream, to run as fast as you can into the nightmare emptiness and beg for help. But the other part of you - your traitorous, emotional heart - douses the runaway fire of your fear with the intoxication of Wally’s touch. You find yourself leaning into his hand, savouring how perfectly his cheek cups your palm, and the slight fuzz of his thumb teasing your lip.

“I do,” you whisper. Suddenly, your body relaxes, and you slump forward. You feel very tired. The panic which gripped your body only moments ago is now quashed, flattened into a fine layer of dust by the weight of Wally’s impossibly black eyes. Now your nervous system is nothing but the aftermath: the feeling of fight-or-flight chemicals settling into your bloodstream, leaving you weak and sluggish.

Now, Wally’s eyes are not a source of terror. They’re a blanket you wish to curl up beneath, and never wake up.

“I think you’re special, you know,” says Wally. “The way I feel when I’m around you is…different, than with the others. You’re the absolute most.”

Wally’s words settle over your brain like a dream. You watch, your eyes heavy and drained, as Wally brings his hands up to his chest and forms the shape of his heart with his fingers. You’re no longer scared of the physical contradictions of Wally holding your hands whilst signing his affection. It seems in this reality, Wally can have as many hands as he wants.

This is why Wally’s next question confuses you so:

“Do you think if our friends saw me like this…they’d run away?”

Wally’s words are becoming harder to process. The world around him tunnels. Even though you’re sure that you’re fixed in place, sitting on some immovable, textureless cushion, Wally’s eyes grow larger, encroaching evermore on your limiting field of vision. The longer you look, the more of Wally’s scleras are swallowed by his expanding pupils. Those blown, void-black pools seem to come with their own gravity, and you’re slipping into their inconceivable pull, ready to be strewn and stretched and ripped apart by their physics.

“Oh, Wally,” you try to say, but your tongue slackens, and his name comes out as, ‘Waaalllllyyyy.’ “We love you so much. You can’t make us run away.”

Wally smiles, and you think it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“How I wish that were true.”

Suddenly, Wally’s eyes shift just the slightest bit to the left. The effect is like unsealing a pressure chamber. For a moment you are released from his eyes, and your brain and body scramble as one, free-falling and bracing to break against the ground with a hypnic jerk. However, Wally realises his mistake and grabs you by the shoulder - another impossible arm - and forces you to look back into his eyes.

“Shh. Don’t strain yourself. The more you resist, the worse you’ll feel.”

You blink rapidly, trying to reorient yourself in space. Wally’s touch grounds you again, holding you steady in this non-existent space. You try to reply, but your mouth now hangs open, jaw useless. Saliva collects in a pool under your tongue, but Wally still keeps his thumb at the edge of your lip, now rubbing soothing circles against your flesh.

“We don’t have much time,” says Wally. “But…thank you for this. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”

The warm flush of his approval works its way through your unresponsive body. Your muscles contract, dopamine and serotonin coating your insides and bringing your fingers - still interlocked with Wally’s - into a sudden contraction. You force your mouth into a speech-ready shape, fuelled by his words and his touch and the sheer paradox of his being, and you try so desperately to say, ‘Wally, I love you- ’

But then he looks away.

The spell is broken. Like flipping to another television channel, the world around you snaps back into place in one vivid bound. All the colour, sounds and scents of the Neighbourhood re-enter your senses in one huge burst, and the force of it almost knocks you over. Wally - who is still holding your hands, just like before - keeps you steady, crushing your hands together like he would rather die than let go.

“Hey, you two!”

Looking away from Wally feels like ripping off a plaster. Your eyes alight on Julie trotting up the meadow’s slight incline, clutching a hotdog in one hand and a cooler in the other.

“Eddie wanted me to tell you we’re packing up,” Julie chirps. “Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.” She looks down at your hands, still intertwined with Wally’s, and grins. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just some good old-fashioned fun,” says Wally, his voice impassive and gentle.

The ability for words has deserted you. You stare back at Wally, searching desperately for something supernatural in the darks of his eyes. Wally looks normal - as normal as a small, yellow puppet can - and his eyes are back to their half-lidded, sleepy-looking state. It takes a couple of nudges with his foot for Wally to bring you back to earth.

Wally lets go of your hands, and you can feel the blood pumping in the spaces between your fingers. You try standing up, but your legs are weak and wobbly, as if you’d just run a marathon while sitting in one spot. They would’ve collapsed beneath you, but Wally catches you before you slip. He hauls you up and loops his arm around yours.

“Just hungry,” Wally says with a smile. “Let’s get you Home."

Julie leads the way down the small embankment, with Wally supporting your timid, uneasy steps. You soon reach your neighbours, now busying themselves in tidying up the remnants of your picnic. Upon seeing you, they all crowd around, asking if you’re okay. Barnaby remarks that you look terribly pale, and Sally offers to bring you a drink. However, Wally shoos them off, admonishing them in a familial sort of way. He reassures them that you’ve just had a small fainting spell, and need to get some rest.

Now free of the others, Julie, Wally and yourself make the way home - and you’re thankful it’s only a short distance. When you finally reach your porch you want to fall over onto the steps, but Wally keeps you held upright: a firm, reassuring presence at your side.

“You need to tell us if you get this again, okay?” says Julie, looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“Okay,” you say, giving a weak nod.

“Thank you. Feel better soon, okay?”

Julie gives you and Wally a final glance over. Having determined you’ll be more than fine in Wally’s care, she bids her goodbyes and skips off to help the rest of your neighbours.

“Ha ha ha,” laughs Wally. “Julie is a good friend. I’m lucky to have her in my life.”

You look sideways at Wally. He catches your eye, and dips his head in a nod. “I feel the same way about you,” he says.

The question is implied in his voice - a little waver at the edge of his words.

“Wally…I don’t really understand what happened today,” you say. “But…I know it doesn’t change how much I like you."

The beam that dawns on Wally’s face is so wide, it almost cracks in two. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You can’t help but return the grin. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

Wally lets go of your arm, and turns to face you properly. He reaches up one hand, and then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours as if pondering a question.

Finally, Wally leans in and gives you a small, gentle kiss on the cheek. You inhale sharply, your arms hanging limply by your side and your fingers curling into questioning shapes. His mouth is plush and downy, and the impression of his lips sends a toasty-sweet feeling rocketing through your body.

When Wally pulls back, his yellow skin is dusted pink about his cheeks.

“Always know,” he says softly, “that I love you very much.”

Then, he’s leaving. You watch in stunned silence as Wally’s back retreats into the distance, making his way to join the throng of your neighbours. A slight rumble in the distance makes you look up: a cluster of thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Neighbourhood, fat with the promise of rain.

You touch your lips gently, and smile. Then, you retreat inside the safety of your home…with the warm memory of Wally’s kiss playing in your mind, and static still buzzing in your fingers.

#wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #poppy partridge #barnaby b. beagle #sally starlet #howdy pillar #starleskawrites #welcome home fic

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aerkame · 1 year

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Just a silly thought...and more

Just a silly little thought I had on Wally headcanons while I was trying to take a nap. EDIT: This turned into a short fanfiction, I will now have to make this a full one, there's too much potential.

So like Wally comes off as super out of it when it comes to our world almost. Like he's never been outside of the show, he's so used to being in Welcome Home with all his friends. Wally also seems like he's the only one truly sentient of himself within the show and the outside world.

He also seems pretty smug, or some other version of him does, No doubt Wally's ego has to be through the roof with being the center of attention all the time. Not only that, but he gets to spend all day with each and every one of his friends!

I'd imagine that if one day some poor unfortunate reader just accidentally brings home all of the puppets thinking they're ordinary puppets and wakes up early in the morning to these very odd and colorful strangers in their house. Like the puppets just came to life looking like their cartoon versions of themselves and also became life-sized, even some of the shorter characters just tower over you easily, and Barnaby can hardly fit through any of the doors!

Wally is sitting at the edge of your bed staring at you with Barnaby sleeping against his legs, Frank is looking at your shelves reading through books, sketchbooks, etc, Sally being more interested in the sketchbooks, Julie found some workout equipment and is playing with a jump rope, both Poppy and Howdy are rummaging through the kitchen, already antsy about needing to make stuff, Eddie is pretty interested in your printer, and you're sitting up in bed getting ready to scream bloody murder.

You don't scream though, but you're ready to. You can't tell if you're dreaming or not. Dreams are usually a pretty trippy falling feeling right? This feels real though. Where's that weird falling feeling you get when dreaming? Why are you able to think so clearly? Your brows furrow in deep thought.

Wally just sits there smugly smiling at you, leaning forward to give you a hello, he's so tall you feel like a small child compared to him. "Hello, I'm sorry that we had to meet like this, I hope you don't mind." His voice sounds soothing, monotone, and deep, and he isn't blinking. Instinctively, you slap your hand on his face and keep it there, feeling his expression scrunch up in confusion.

Nope, not a dream.

He gently takes your hand in his and removes you from his face, a small red area showing up where you slapped him.

It took about an hour of talking you down from being freaked out for Wally and the others to introduce themselves. They had sooo many questions of course. Like "What is this thing that makes colored paper come out?", "Why do you have these heavy thingies?" Sally holds up a 50lbs dumbbell with one hand like it's nothing, or "Why aren't you more colorful like us? Ooo can we cover you in paint?"

Needless to say you also had a lot of questions too, none of them were really answered though as all of the colorful characters were busy inspecting your house or were preoccupied with asking you about all sorts of items, they were like little kids. Wally was the only one that seemed to be the more mature one here though, it felt off, like he already knew you or like he was used to this.

At dinner, you went ahead and made food for everyone while also showing Poppy how you cook in this world. You noticed Wally didn't touch anything but the food simply disappeared right before your eyes, leaving you slack-jawed and speechless. "Oh don't worry, that's just how he eats!" Sally waved off your concern. This was starting to freak you out a bit.

After dinner you did your best to find places in the house for everyone to sleep until Wally suggested they all just sleep in your room like one big sleepover...something told you that he just wanted an excuse to be closer to you or to be able to keep a close watch though. Que you being squished in between these giant softies like a kid hiding in a giant pillow fort. Barnaby did make for a comfortable pillow though, and Poppy's feathers were so soft...and..and..you dozed off, not taking notice of Wally's staring eyes.

Sure, Wally has his friends to keep him company, and Welcome Home is such a cheery and colorful world! But it's missing just one thing. You.

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swoonbots · 1 year

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Wally, Eddie, & Howdy: Affectionate Human HCs

CW: N/A

Summary: Reaction Headcanons

---

Wally finds it adoring.

Out of everyone here, he's the most passive about it. You could pick him up and swing him around like a kitten and he wouldn't be bothered. He's so chill to the point it's frustrating if you wanted to try and fluster him.

Wally understands that it's the way you show your love and so he accepts it with open arms.

If he feels you're sad, he'll crawl into your arms and let you do whatever you want to him to make you feel better.

"Oh... Hello, neighbor. Making your cuddle rounds again, I see? Ha ha ha.."

Eddie can't handle it!

Every single time you pop up to hug him from behind or kiss him on the cheek, he glows a bright red.

If you do it right before work, he'll take forever to deliver his packages because he's so flustered that he's constantly stumbling over his feet. He'll think about it all day

If you make it a habit and you miss a day, he'll get very sad and come looking for your love like a puppy. Though, he won't be able to properly put it into words.

"C-Can you do *that* again? You know what I mean! Don't make me say it.."

Howdy finds it flustering at first, but quickly gets used to it.

If you take the time to kiss all of his hands, Howdy'll flush a dark green and thank you.

Howdy takes the time to properly return your love. If you hug him from behind, he'll turn around to hug you. If you kiss his hand, he'll kneel down to give you a proper kiss on the forehead...

Don't do it while he's actively on job (ie. in checkout). He'll get flustered and a little angry at you for distracting him. Don't worry though, it's not a serious anger.

"H-Hey! I'm tryin' to work, you little rascal! Come back later and I'll give you what you want.

#welcome home x reader #welcome home #wally darling x reader #howdy pillar x reader #Eddie dear x reader #swoonbots headcanons

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fatsimpmads · 1 year

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Shout out to all the bitches that draw Wally Darling with a hunky man chest with collar bones and strong hands but still keep his silly cat eyes and adorable :3 baby smile.

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that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald · 4 months

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐇 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲" 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦?

See my masterlist here!

×A/N×

Hey!! Yes, I know, I have some few inbox that I should answer, and don't worry, I will, just let me do a quick post here- -w-

So I'm back with the promised WH headcanons! And I hope you will like them :D

(And yes, it has a short plot now. I did it. I wrote it. ✨

×❢ About my work ❢×

Fluff fluff, all is fluff! No pronouns used for the reader, but good boy/girl mentioned, even if it's expected, there's no smut. Although Howdy is a bit teasing, but it's not r rated so •-•

Fandom: Welcome Home horror project by Clown

Character(s): Wally Darling, Howdy Pillar, Barnaby B. Beagle, Frank Frankly, Eddie Dear, The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Ship(s): The Characters / The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Form: Headcanons

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: LoveGame by Lady Gaga

('cause that is next on my playlist •_•)

“Let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame

Do you want love or do you want fame?

Are you in the game?”

(All illustration belongs to Clown!)

Wally Darling

It was quiet in his house, even Home didn't let out a single crack until this moment. There was just one problem. You haven't seen your dearest puppet oh so long ago. The plan was that you two will have a cuddle time together, but he was nowhere.

You got up from the couch and carefully looked around in the house. You cautiously called out his name, but no one responded.

You walked around in the house a little bit, hoping to find him.

He had his own painting room where he could make his own fantasy alive with the brush.

You walked closer carefully, not to scare him. Even so, he could actually clearly hear you sneaking up behind him, but he was more focused on the picture.

You peaked through his shoulders to see what he was up to.

Oh. My. Gosh. Your heart skipped a beat. He was painting a picture of you. How cute! Wally was a very talented artist and you were very amazed in this moment. He always did such a great job.

"This looks so great, Wally! You are such a good boy!" you said quietly, while you gently placed your head on his shoulder.

• it comes off to him like compliment

• and it's from you

• his sweetest neighbour

• of course, he is happy! ♡

• "Thank you, Neighbour!"

• he smiles at you happily, hoping that you like his work

• "Do you like it, Neighbour?"

• omg ofc you like it! How could you not?!

• He is so happy about the compliment and about that you're liking his work.

• he just stares at you happily with open mouth, listening your cheerful voice while you commenting of him and his art

Eddie Dear

Eddie came home and you could tell, he was clearly exhausted. Poor boy, running back and forth all day, and do this job all alone, it must be tiring.

He got down next to you, just quietly lied down on his back and put his head on your lap.

"Hey." you said softly, curling his hair gently with your fingers.

"Hey, love!" he looked at you with his tired eyes, but his lips still curled up into a kind smile.

You were resting quietly in the warm room, just hearing each other's calm breathing was enough relaxing.

"It must be hard for you to do this job all alone, Eddie." you said quietly, no to destroy this calm moment that you have been in for awhile. "You're such a good boy!" you chuckled.

• he slowly opens his eyes, looks straight up at you

• look, idk if they can blush, but now he does it okay?

• like his face is completely red

• he always gets so flushed when you complimenting him

• he's so flattered

• and so damn cute ♡

• he's speechless, he can't think of what he could say

• so he just simply says

• "Oh... Erm... Thanks, (Y/N)!"

• he will definitely give a kiss to your hands in return

• Your compliments mean too much for him ♡

(a.n: btw I love Edddie, he is such a sweetheart 🥺 ♡

He is definitely my favourite character beside Barnaby! ★)

Barnaby. B. Beagle

He knew that work is tiring for you and you had a long day. He wanted to do something pleasant for you. He couldn't cook, it was too difficult for him and he didn't wanna blow up the kitchen with his tryings. So instead of cooking, he cleaned out. It was not as perfect like you would did it, but it was acceptable. He was already finished when you were standing in front of the red and blue colored door. It was easy to recognize it. It had similar colors as Barnaby and it was the biggest door in the neighbourhood.

He opened the door with a happiest smile on his face. He was clearly missing you. He let you in and you immediately took a seat on the comfy couch.

Just a few minutes after you had some chance to look around. The house wasn't perfectly clean, like you could still something in the conner, but it was enough to make you feel happy and greatful about Barnaby.

"What a good boy!"

• omg i can imagine how his tail starts wagging

• I mean he's like a dog, but different, but still a dog, so what did you expect?

• he definitely loves it when you call him a good boy

• he just listens your soft and lovely voice while you caressing and rubbing his fluffy head

• he especially likes rubs behind his big ears

• will rest his head on your lap and just melt in and let you to pet and praise him

• probably will bite you carefully in an affection way

• or slobber on you occasionally

• he wants you to say it more times, so he'll try to make you proud as often as he can

• he absolutely loves it ♡

"Thank you, Barnaby!"

Frank Frankly

You wanted to see your partner's reaction too much to lose this idea. You leaned forward in the chair to get a better look at Frank, then you called him.

"You are such a good boy, Frank!"

• he looks up at you strangely and confused

• you can't help, but giggle a little bit cause the frustration

• "Well... Thank you, (Y/N)..."

• then he goes back to his job

• probably he has to do something with those colorful bugs what are around him

• seems like he found a better company than you :")

• you stood up and got over to him, tried not to hurt his garden and the bugs

• "But seriously, hon, I do think that you're doing an amazing job!" you said it softly as you hugged him from behind.

"Thank you, Darling." he smiles at you adorably

• he still adores you dw ♡

• but he definitely likes dear, hon, love or even darling more :D

• (btw I think it would make him uncomfortable- not sure, but I feel like- lol)

Howdy Pillar

You rested your arm on the counter as Howdy checked your items. You watched his movements. Slowly tracing your eyes from his face down to his hands, paying attention to details as well.

"Y'know, you do so much work in this place, Howdy. Like a good boy." You added jokingly the last sentence, didn't think of it too much, though.

He stopped moving for and looked up on you. You look directly in his eyes, getting red of embarassment.

"I mean-" You looked away sheepishly. "Not like that, just... You're doing such a good job here, y'know? It must be hard to keep this place alright by yourself." you chuckled awkardly, trying to change the awkard mood that you accidently did.

Howdy was still looking at you, but he didn't seem nervous or weird out about this. He just stared at you and then suddenly his lips curled into a kind, but a teasing smile.

"Yeah, it is." he answered.

He already put in a bag the last item you have bought of him, then he gently gave the bag to you with his third hand.

"You wanna drink a quick Dark Roast with me? Or if you prefer it more, you can have orange juice, or tea." he leaned closer to you on the counter.

"Sure." you said.

He walked away from the counter as one of his hands started to lead you beside him.

He glanced at you with a smile and said

"You still have to pay, though. Don't think that I'll forgot."

• omg-

• i don't think he'll mind it y'know

• but he prefers call you a good pet/boy/girl

• he may get teasy about it

• beside that, he will treat it as a compliment (cause he really deserves it)

• call him often, he won't mind

• just please don't call him like that in public :>

• he's cool with it :D

#wh #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #wally darling #wally darling x reader #barnaby b beagle #barnaby b beagle x reader #eddie dear #eddie dear x reader #frank frankly #frank frankly x reader #howdy pillar #howdy pillar x reader #wh x reader #welcome home x reader

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sketchquill · 10 months

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*Starts dangling Corpse Puppet art on a fishing hook* Gee I wonder if I’ll get a bite today? 😗🎵

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lovelybunn · 11 months

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some hugs n cuddles !ㅤ- feat. howdy, barnaby and eddie

warning(s): none.

author's note: y'know i just HAD to feed on the delusional fantasy by writing for the big boy trio... (also this is lowkey established relationship)

🐛 howdy pillar .

Howdy whistles contently to himself while organizing the shelves of his store. His work is cut short by the familiar jingle of the bell at the entrance, alerting him of your presence. “Howdy, neighbor, welcome to my bodega! Anything you need, I got it for ya. How can I be of service?” Howdy greets you with a warm smile as you step inside.

You walk up to the front counter and clear your throat. “I know this is not what you're currently selling, but…” Howdy's big, buggy eyes twinkled, “What is it? I can get it in stock in a jiffy, if you'd like!” You awkwardly press your lips into a thin line and exclaim, “It's not a product.”

“Oh?” He pauses. “Then what is it?” He asks slowly, the gentle baritone of his voice flowing through your eardrums. His eyebrows furrow and antennae shuffle with worry. You snicker and wave your hand dismissively, “Hey, don't give me that look! I wanted a hug!”

The frown on his fluffy face soon molded into a bright smile. "Oh, then why didn't ya just say that, lovebug?" He rushes over from behind the counter and swoops you off your feet. Howdy's lower pair of arms kept you up as he wraps his upper pair around your waist. He gently squeezes you close. "You're the cutest, (Name)!" The two of you giggle, giving sweet butterfly kisses against each other's noses.

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤheadcanons !

getting cuddles/hugs from this man is absolute heaven for ppl that are chronically touch starved (like me—)

howdy's two pairs of arms will give all the affection anyone would need in their entire life. like boy will have two arms wrapped around your waist, one hand caressing your cheek, and the last one intertwined with your fingers <333

he doesn't wanna bend over, so he'll pick u up alot tho… (he's old and carries boxes all the time, his back don't need all that, alr?)

he's very soft. he has fur/fluff. (yes, i am basing that off of clownsuu's design, and what?)

and i feel like he would just love holding you anyway. ur just so small compared to him and he wants to protect you, y'know?

i personally see howdy being the papa of the neighborhood, taking care of everyone alongside poppy (but he's a lil bit more strict than she is about it lmao)

hear me out on this one guys…. i know that most ppl portray him as this chatterbox, but he knows how and when to listen.

howdy will make sure that u never feel unheard or unloved, the sweet boy will make it his mission to put a smile on that adorable face of urs

🌭 barnaby b beagle .

Barnaby slouches in the bench chair and sighs. He takes a bite out of his hotdog when his eyes trail to a familiar face, walking up to him. "Ah, ey, kiddo. Whatchu want?" He gives you a relaxed smile. "I wanted to ask you for something."

He tilts his head, eyebrow raised. "Hmm? Go on, I got time." You take in a deep breath, "Hey Barnaby, Can you…" You pause as he leans closer to you. "Can you hold me? I've had kinda a rough day, and you're my go-to." He takes the last bite of his hotdog and pats his lap. " 'Course, kid. You can stay as long as you like."

Just as soon as you get his permission, you're sitting with your back towards him, his big paws placed gently across your belly. His plump figure makes it easy for you to practically sink into him like a fresh new couch. He hums a contented tune near your ear; your face warms up into a joyful grin.

Barnaby glances at you, "Ey, kiddo." You hum in response. "Y'know, I think Sally got a little bit of some competition; your smile alone could light up this whole neighborhood." You roll your eyes, a slight snicker escaping from your lips. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." He held you closer, shaking his head. Barnaby's large thumb caresses the palm of your right hand, tracing circles around its surface. "Nah, hon. It's all truth. I mean, ya must be some kinda treat, cuz I always catch myself gawking at the sight of you."

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤheadcanons !

boy's soft and plump like a giant life size pillow fr <3333 (human or dog ver, idc)

for dog ver, he loves being scratched behind his big ol ears !!!

gives bear hugs unintentionally

does that circle thing with ur palm

the dog be cooking tho. no, fr, he is the best cook in the neighborhood (and his love language is literally food) so if u need some support, he'll whip it up and serve it to u on a silver platter !!

also puns for days.. he wants to make everyone smile and laugh, u included. barnaby cannot stand a frown on a fellow neighbor's face.

Uncle-That-Smokes-Weedcore ™

he gives the best advice (when he wants to, that is. sometimes he'll say something stupid to see if whoever he gave the advice to will actually do it ;D) why do u think wally tells the man everything?

💌 eddie dear .

Eddie quickly walks to the door of his post office, filled with gratitude for another great hard day's work. As soon as he walks through the door, you rush over to give him a tender embrace. He chuckles, “Hey there, darlin'! Did my babydoll miss me?” With your face buried in his chest, you muffle out a "Mhm." Eddie's face beams, patting your back. "Well, I missed you too, honey." He places three soft kisses on you, one on your forehead, and the other two on either cheek.

Eddie tries to move forward, but you don't budge. Your arms are glued tight to him. "Uh, darlin'...? I– I gotta get unready, y'know? Please let go of me." He chuckles nervously. He tries to sneakily pull your arms away, but you speak before he's given the chance. "You've been gone all day, dear. Can't I hug you a little while longer?" You look up at him. The pleading look in your eyes melts the poor mailman's heart within seconds. "Alright, alright, fine! But just for a few minutes. I'd like to change into less sweaty clothes at some point."

The two of you just relax there for a moment, limbs wrapped delicately around each other. Absent-mindedly, Eddie guides you into somewhat of a slow dance, and your bodies sway back and forth as you and Eddie sink deeper into one and other's touch. After about a minute, he kisses your forehead again, then pulls away. "You satisfied, love?" You smile and nod slowly, "Yes, very."

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤheadcanons !

smooches for dayssss

most days this golden retriever man will lift u up, spin u around and DROWN U in kisses, but (obv) on busier days, hes a lot more relaxed about it

his love language is words of affirmation (so lots of pet names if u couldn't tell)

hand-holding at all times (when given opportunity)

EDDIE DEAR IS A POET. BOY WRITES U LOVE LETTERS EVERY OTHER DAY, ALL OF WHICH IS HANDMADE, ALL THE WAY DOWN TO THE ENVELOPE.

is it weird that i see eddie and frank as my gay parents? (yeah we ARE the two gay married men w/ their autistic child trope.)

eddie would be that crazy country dad who would with zero hesitation pull a gun on someone hurting his baby

but fr, if u were feeling sad boy would pull out the arts and crafts and go bonkers with it. like "awh, yer sad??? let's make origami butterflies to make u feel better c:"

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #howdy pillar x reader #welcome home barnaby #barnaby b beagle #barnaby b beagle x reader #welcome home eddie #eddie dear #eddie dear x reader #welcome home imagines #welcome home headcanons #for people who are inlove w puppets #no judgement #imagines #headcanons

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