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leviathanleva · 19 days

Text

Daisy

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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

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Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

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[4k words]

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Chapter 1 "The Savior"

Since the day you were born, there was something horribly wrong with you.

You had no immune system, your skin was paper-thin, you couldn’t exercise without collapsing, and every nerve in your body was in constant pain. There was no use for you aside from being a measly archive keeper and book transcriber. Your father was a weak man, despite your disabilities and how costly it was for the rest of your Vault, he kept you alive, consumed by the idea of finally finding a cure for his little girl.

Every single moment since your birth, you had spent in this squeaky clean, insanity-inducing, paper-ridden medical room. Everything was plagued by the stench of medicine and spirit, disinfected down to the core. The floor and walls and even the ceiling were covered in a leather cushioned layer to prevent any injuries, sparkling white, of course. Who needed color when the stench of new paint might cause you a migraine?

In honesty, you’d give away half of your miserable life just to see color outside of the packaged book covers stacked neatly on the floor. You built a makeshift city out of them, following the pictures drawn in an old magazine you’d read ages ago and kept hidden under your pillow. With time, you learned how to make paper flowers out of some stray files that nobody would miss. You had to find some solace, something to keep you from crying your delicate heart out every night because this was no way for anyone to live.

You weren’t just isolated from the world above, but from everything, only getting glimpses of the bright metal vault corridor and bustling dwellers whenever your father would open that wretched vacuum-sealed door to give you medicine. You knew people’s names and faces, everyone in your vault was memorized to the letter, but you’d never met them and probably never would.

You were never given your own Pip-boy, never assigned as a potential marriage candidate, and you’d never have children or any family once your parents passed away. A small part of you knew that you wouldn’t even outlive them, frail and genetically inferior as you were. You’d die within the next few years and you’d take the burden of your existence off the shoulders of everyone who worked tirelessly to find a solution to your illness.

You waited for that day with hope, dreaming of the end of the torture and solitude.

You had pleaded with your father that night with angry tears in your eyes to at least bring you coloring pencils or crayons or a radio to chat with the rest of the residents and make friends. But, as usual, he had refused gently while rocking you in his arms, cooing at you with a regretful tone and pain carving deep wrinkles in his features. Then he’d smiled at you, melting away your worry and frustration and misery, and he’d kissed your forehead tenderly. He still treated you like a little girl and to him, you’d always be one. He wiped your tears away and hope shone in his eyes, they looked exactly like yours, that was the only thing you’d taken from him. Everything else was a gift from your mother and you often looked in the mirror just to remember what she resembled.

She’d stopped visiting a long time ago, months, maybe even years, you weren’t sure. The passing of time was a fickle matter when you were caged in a cushioned prison every single day.

Your father hummed softly, lulling you while he gently tucked you into the nursing bed and secured the oxygen mask over your mouth. He was your angel, your only salvation, your only source of conversation and comfort and interaction and love. He adjusted the catheter back into your vein before fluffing up your pillow.

“This might be it, Sweetheart.” he whispered while watching you doze off slowly, his gaze held such affection for you. He placed a new IV bag to drain into your arm, one you’d not seen before, but you trusted him. This was nothing new. He came up with a new medicine recipe every month, without fail. “This might just be the cure. You’ll tell me how you feel tomorrow.”

You can only sigh and give your best smile, unable to share his enthusiasm after so many failed attempts. He rubbed a thumb over your sickly-colored cheek, his skin like sandpaper against yours, worn and calloused from spending a lifetime in the vault’s field.

“Have some faith in your old man.”

“I do, dad…I’m just so tired of this…”you bite into your tongue to keep more tears from spilling, and your bottom lip trembles despite your best efforts to tame it. Watching his face falter breaks your heart and you suck it up, push your tantrum down and pout instead. “And you’re not old.”

He laughs at your whiney remark, the first laugh he’d had in a long time, and he slicks back your hair, taking note that he needed to trim it soon before it got too long. Maybe when he had the energy, he’d sit down for more than a few minutes and braid it like he used to when you were just a child.

“I know you are, Baby girl, I know.” he shushes you with the utmost care and stands. “Just a little longer and you’ll be strong enough to help your pop pick out the tatoes. Get your pretty hands all dirty and then have a big plate of spam for a job well done.” he gazed at you, masking his sorrow and bitterness at the cruelty life had forced upon you. His hand hovered over the lamp switch and he glanced one last time at the brand-new IV bag slowly emptying in your bloodstream. “Night, Sweetheart. Love you.”

Too stricken with grief over your miserable lifestyle, you didn’t return his tender words, hoping he understood and knew that you loved him just as much if not more. When the lights went out, your eyelids closed, squeezing out a few lonely tears in the darkness before you begrudgingly drifted off to sleep. A dreamless slumber when you were gently rocked through the foggy confines of your subconsciousness.

Your one wish was to see the world outside, uncaring if it were a wasteland or a paradise, ignorant of the dangers and naïve towards the people who potentially lived up there. You just wanted to be free, even if it would cost you your life, you wanted to see the sky just once, wanted to prove to yourself that no, it looked better than any picture your father had shown you. You wanted to swim in the ocean and see fishes and see a whale, a creature so big it was unfathomable to imagine, you wanted to taste the salty sea water and become sick and just be happy to be alive for once. You wanted to feel the grass beneath your feet, to touch snow and dance in the rain until you slipped and fell in a puddle only to splash in it because you’d never seen or felt any nature.

You just wanted to live…

The hours ticked by in a hazy blur as you lay lifelessly on your bed. Your room was partly sound-proof, you heard nothing of the ruckus slowly brewing beyond your medicinal prison. Sleepy soundly, you didn’t hear the slaughter, the begging and pleading voice on the brink of crying before the sickening cracks of broken bones. You didn’t hear the crazed ramblings of the raiders stalking your fellow vault dwellers like it was a game of cat and mouse. Your vault was slowly succumbing to chaos and rampage and it was only when the electricity went out and your door unlatched that you were startled awake.

You bolt up with wide eyes and in a panic, gaze averting to the door and heart skipping a beat when you realize it’s open. With a small grunt and a relieved inhale once the oxygen mask is ripped from your face and tossed on your pillow, you scramble to stand. The IV is disconnected from your arm with an expert touch, replaced by a cotton ball to obscure any heavy bleeding from the open puncture wound. Your bare feet shuffle over the soft floor, slippery against the white leather because you’d unknowingly started to sweat from anticipation.

Was this just another cruel dream?

You walked to the exit with timid footsteps before opening the door wide enough to stick your head out. An incessant voice kept repeating how disappointed your father would be if he saw you sticking your nose out and potentially catching an infection from the unsterile air. That voice was dismissed promptly, this was your first chance at seeing anything beyond the medical room and you’d rather die than miss it.

Had the power gone out? But that was impossible. The power never went out, there had always been a steady flow of electricity for as long as you could remember.

The lights flickered, most were broken, letting the eerie darkness overwhelm all corridors except for one.

“Hello?” you call out hesitantly, shaky voice hoarse with sleep and anxiety both. Looking around, you couldn’t see much, there wasn’t a soul in sight and the silence was deafening. “Dad?”

Nothing. Nothing and no one.

A hand clutched at the door to support your buckling knees and you breathed deeply, encouraging yourself to be brave, that this was your chance. After dutifully gnawing on the inside of your cheek you stepped forth into the crossroads of corridors, letting go of the door and leaving everything familiar and safe behind. Your head whirled so much your neck popped multiple times as you frantically looked around in the scarce light and as terrifying as all of this was, it was also heaven unknown. You had never seen so many things – plant pots, plants, all bright green and juicy, you’d stuck your nail in a particular one only to feel a strange gooey discharge on your finger. It was a succulent, you’d read about those somewhere, very sturdy indeed, very pretty, but had no smell. You liked them already.

The further you went, the more a nagging thought kept creeping up your spine like a chill.

Where was everybody?

You kept looking, following the corridor and under the guidance of blinking lamps. You knew the Vault like the back of your hand after spending countless hours studying its diagrams, having nothing better to do. Now you were experiencing it in person. No longer needing to strain your imagination to picture every nook and cranny, you could see it with your own eyes. The floor was so cold under your feet, but you didn’t care, too high on adrenaline and pure joy to notice such a small inconvenience. A hand glided absentmindedly against the wall, tracing over pipes and posters and glass windows until you prickled your finger on a jagged edge and winced away.

You stuck the winger in your mouth with a pained scowl and glared up, searching for the source of your misfortune.

You froze.

Blood, everywhere, oozing down the wide hole in the window and silently gushing out of the disemboweled corpse of a human being, still warm. And even through the liters of blood and the sickening feeling of nausea that had your eyes dart to the floor, you immediately noticed the dark blue suit they were wearing. A dead vault dweller tossed through the window so hard they’d broken through and gotten impaled on the glass.

A vault dweller.

Dead…

DEAD!!!

You stumbled back and wretched, stuffing your mouth in the crook of your elbow and sputtering saliva as your stomach churned with bile. You bumped into a metal cabinet in your stupor, scraping for purchase as your legs lost all function, knocking over a clock and a radio that came to life as soon as it hit the floor. The sound echoed through the Vault, like a haunting melody to the arrival of a new victim, lured out and ready for slaughter. You.

Horror. A massacre, as the light flickered your eyes feasted on more marred flesh and ripped skin and so much blood. Crimson splatter and trails of handprints were strewn over the walls, the echoes of an dire struggle which ended in vein, trails of violence were etched into the hallway. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you threw up, clutching at your stomach as you let out the traumatizing sight the only way your body knew how. Doubled over and twitching as the shock was replaced by such a raw feeling that you nearly lost your mind.

Corpses littered the floor beyond, caked in their own entrails, skulls bashed in, unrecognizable and still and…

“Hi there, Princess.”

A chill went up your spine as you realized that the frilly white dress you wore wasn’t enough to keep you warm beyond your room. Your skin littered with goosebumps, thin hairs standing up in fear as you stiffly craned your neck and looked back to the other end of the corridor. What little color was left in your face dissipated at the sight.

A man, disfigured and disgusting, with wild hair and wilder eyes and a grin that shook you to the bone stood there. He was shirtless, showing off a large hairy belly and covered in stick-poke tattoos, one of his legs was replaced by what you made out was a metal stick of sorts. He was three times your size…and he looked at you with such perverse intent that you nearly screamed. A vile creature, not even human anymore.

“Don’t be scared, Pretty.” he leered, chapped lips and rotting teeth and a foul blackened tongue, and raised a large palm in front of him to halt you from moving. “It’s okay…Come here. Come to me.”

Instinct took over and you automatically stepped back, not daring to take your eyes off him.

“Ah, don’t do that now.” he warned sweetly and slowly began walking towards you, creeping closer every time the lights flickered off. “You’ll just make this harder for you, yeah? Come to Eddie, Sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

Everything about him screamed evil. He looked deranged and capable of things you’d never even begin to imagine.

A surface dweller. A survivor. A killer. A monster.

The moment his boot sunk in a pool of blood and squeaked against the floor realization hit you like a speeding truck. The grim expression should have been his sign to catch you, but you were already leaping over corpses with a blood-curdling screech. Your mind raced as you tried to orientate yourself through the corridors, bolting over shattered glass and spoiled food and so many dead bodies.

You needed to get out. Leave. Escape.

OUT!

His hollars bellowed behind you, alerting the rest of his friends because of course there were more and now they were aware of you and hunting you down like a deer in the forest. You let the tears run down your cheeks, forced the questions of your parents’ whereabouts and health because you already knew the answers, but you let them sink you’d end up like them or worse.

A horde of footsteps nipped at your bare heels and you sprinted and begged your weak little legs to go faster. Sucking in air as adrenaline pumped through your veins like poison, you jumped and ducked and whirled and assured yourself that you had the upper hand here, you knew the vault better than them. You stood a chance, you’d survive.

When the elevator came into view after you rounded a corner you nearly cried out in delirium. A roar nearly deafened you and you flinched, but your pace only increased as you pleaded and struggled not to trip over your feet. They were desperate, clawing at the air to try and reach you before it was too late. Your lungs burned with strain, your muscles felt like they’d tear any moment, but you kept pushing, high on horror and anger and a newfound zest for self-preservation

Salvation. Your only chance to live.

Your shoulder screamed in pain when you slammed against the metal walls of the elevator and thrusted your fist against the button vigorously.

“Come on. Come on. COME ON!”

“Get back here you little whore!”

“Please!” you wailed, screaming and stumbling back when a rusty axe collided with the shutting doors and made sparks fly with an ear-piercing screech. A hand flew up to cover your squinted eyes, sneering and sobbing as the raiders banged on the outside of the elevator and shot conniving curses at your crumbling form. You were slammed down on your arse by gravity as the elevator finally moved, taking you away from certain death as a slew of grim promises were expelled at you from below.

They’d find you, rip you apart, and make you wish you’d just died like the rest of your pathetic vault dwellers. You balled your eyes out, choking on spit and tears and gulping down air as your body shook violently. Clutching at your face, you stared down at your bloody feet with wide, unblinking eyes.

What was this nightmare…

When the elevator came to a halt and the doors reopened you barely managed to stand, the numbness in your limbs proving too much to handle and your upset stomach only contributing. But you had to keep moving, you had to run.

“Daddy…��

With ugly sobs and meek noises of strain and discomfort and utter distaste for your cruel fate, you tumbled towards the ajar vault entrance. Pressing down the button timidly before taking the discarded Pip-boy from the severed hand, you lock your tormentors into their grave and hurriedly tread towards the slowly closing vault exit.

The sun nearly blinds you and the hot desert sun knocks you to your knees as your hands sink to the wrists in sand. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking rapidly and shielding your sensitive pupils from the blaring light.

It’s…barren.

A desert, stretching as far as your sight could reach, heated enough for the air to wiggle and dance in the distance, a decrepit city can be seen nestled not too far. A plethora of buildings crumbled to their bases hide away the sealed entrance to your vault, bones are scattered through the coarse sand, human shapes frozen in time, hinting towards a previous era of life on Earth, an era you’d only read about. Again, there wasn’t a soul around no matter how many times you circled your vision.

A wasteland. Painted yellow and orange and contrasting so beautifully with the clear blue sky.

You wanted to marvel and swoon and you would have given any other circumstance, but now, after everything you’d seen, after your mind had been so brutally defiled with images of slaughter, you were incapable. You stood, resisting the harsh breeze and angry sun, clad in nothing but a Pip-boy and a thin summer dress that was everything but white.

You had to walk, seek help, do…something. Anything.

And so you did. Trudging through the sea of sand and stepping hastily as the heat beneath your delicate feet nipped uncomfortably at your skin. Sweat clung to you like a protective layer, washing away any trace of the sensitive lavender shampoo you had used the previous night. Strands of hair clung to your flushed face as you fought a silent and unfair battle against the burning sunrays, one step at a time, with the wind as your only companion. Your nostrils struggled to breathe in enough air, but you didn’t dare open your mouth despite the temptation, fearing dehydration and death as it loomed over you like a shadow.

You walked for what felt like miles, accompanied by your thoughts and nothing else, until the Vault was hidden behind the golden dunes and your feet felt raw. The city was so close now, yet you were so tired, sucked dry by a heat you’d never experienced before, if it hadn’t been for your Pip-boy crackling to life you would have collapsed, too burdened and weak to continue.

You raised your wrist and looked down and were met by a familiar meter.

Radiation.

Something around you was radioactive enough for the device to pick up easily, but there was nothing but waves of yellow hell and you doubted the ground itself was emitting it. Then you heard it. That strange, high-pitched chirping, an alien sound that made your skin crawl and scraped at the back of your head tauntingly.

A scream loud enough to shatter glass ripped through your throat as a sharp sting pierced your ankle. You hit the soft sand with a whimper and rushed to turn on your back before kicking blindly at your assaultant. An ambush from below. Blood trickled from the gash, painting your skin a deep ruby red and spilling over the ground, luring out your predators like moths to a flame.

Insects, roaches too big to be real and too much for your fickle mind to comprehend crawled out of the sand. You’d fallen right into their trap, an unsuspecting victim, a banquet they’d probably not seen since they’d hatched.

Your heart pounded frantically, pulse thumping in the side of your neck as you flailed and screeched, chucking sand at them as they circled you. You wanted to run, every cell in your body fought for you to stand, but you couldn’t, you had no fight left. You’d die here, alone in this decrepit desert and eaten by giant cockroaches and this was going to be the story of your life. You sobbed so pitifully, so angry and bitter and bratty that after everything, this was to be your end. The world spun painfully fast and you wanted to vomit, but your stomach was empty and you only gagged.

With one last scream, you curled in a ball, covering your head with your arms and your legs protecting your belly, as one of the insects lunged forward.

When the gunshot rang in your ears you froze in place and time stopped. The roach flew back, slimy green entrails covering your form like a canvas. The other two hissed and you revolted at the noise, but they were shot a second later, blown to bits, dainty skittish legs twitching as the last few beats of life escaped them. The shadow of your savior dwarfed you completely, giving you respite from the cruel sun.

You roll over and sit up on your knees within a blink only to be met with the barrel of a gun too ratchet and rusted to belong to anyone but a wastelander. You recoil and blink through tear-heavy lashes before roughly adjusting your dress to try and cover your bare thighs from what you presumed was another man. The tip of the gun slid under your chin and guided your eyes up to feast upon your hero. You gulped and whimpered.

He was grotesque, like a man skinned alive and somehow survived, melted skin deformed his features and you’d bet your dinner there wasn’t a strand of hair under that worn cowboy hat. He had no nose, no eyebrows or even lashes, not a spec of hair. He grinned something awful down at you, looking at you like you were a fresh piece of meat, a delicacy among a table covered with rotten food. His stance was wide, torn dark cloth swaying dangerously in the breeze, he seemed almost aetherial in his own twisted and rugged way. You mewled softly as he turned your head from side to side with his gun, gently, mockingly, drinking you in from every angle as if you’d disappear if he so much as blinked.

Your hands clutched at the edge of your dress when he finally spoke and his voice made you inhale sharply and clench your jaw in anticipation.

“Well…Aren’t you a pretty little thing…”

(Listen, it's 7AM and I need sleep, but this mother trucker didn't want to leave me alone so have a chapter from my hastily strewn-together upcoming story. I'll post it on AO3 and probably here if it even happens. I'll fix mistakes later, don't eat me please.)

Chapter 2 >>>

🌼 Masterlist 🌼

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard #wtf am i doing with my life #x reader #the ghoul

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symp4nat · 4 months

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heyo!! Can you write a clarisse x apollo reader fic where everything reader tries to write or draw it ends up being about her. Some of her siblings saw it and began teasing her about it. Eventually, Clarisse finds out about it and tries to draw reader and give it toher, shes all shy about it bait doesn't look that good but reader doesn't care and loves it anyway, also they get together

thanks :)

Crayons

clarisse la rue x reader

warnings - wee bit suggestive

Your girlfriend lingered somewhere around camp, you already had asked her to give you space. No, you weren't in an argument, you just wanted some alone time. To draw.

Usually, you'd draw at night time, in the dimness of the moonlight, but recently, that wouldn't suffice. Daylight was undoubtedly the appropriate time to do something like this, but the fear that you'd get caught had you in shambles.

You were a singer, a poet, a songwriter. Although you usually could write without a muse, you couldn't imagine a life without Clarisse as your muse now. Except, you couldn't stop. It was like Clarisse was your favourite candy, you were addicted.

Everything you did had a secret connotation that somehow led back to her. She was the emblem of your creativity.

"Hey, you," Clarisse said excitedly as she barged into your cabin and plopped onto your bed. Anddd.... your gentle moment of bliss had dissipated. Her head leaned onto your shoulder and you tucked your notebook away while leaning your cheek onto her head.

Your fingers managed to find a way to intertwine themselves with hers and you mumbled, "How was your day?" She shrugged and hummed in response. Her legs entangled with yours and she straddled your lap and your eyes widened.

Clarisse quickly grabbed your notebook and rolled off of you. You gasped and lunged onto her to grab it. A few of your siblings walked in and they looked at you in surprise, in shock; they had assumed the worst. "No, I swear," you exclaimed.

They giggled out and one of your younger siblings grasped the notebook from Clarisse, "Hope you don't have dad's luck with love."

With a gasp, your notebook was snatched from your siblings as they observed it dramatically. Clarisse's eyes skimmed over the pages that fell open and you closed it before you could embarrass yourself even further. You stuffed the notebook in a lockbox and shooed your siblings out.

A sigh left your lips and you rested your head on Clarisse's chest. "Shut up," you groaned as you felt her about to say something.

A rare sight was met as big, bad Clarisse sat at the Arts & Crafts table with all the younger kids. She was also interacting with them, happily. Which wasn't usual.

A pack of crayons sat next to a paper on the table she was at and she didn't spare a glance at the people sending awful, judgmental stares.

Her new friends helped her scribble on the white sheet of printer paper. She showed the paper proudly to all the kids and they cheered. Clarisse leaped up and ran to the Apollo cabin. She opened the door and shoved the paper in your face. "Look," she said excitedly.

You beamed and held the paper away from your face to examine it. It was a drawing of you and her, holding hands. It looked like an eight year old drew it, but she did, your eight year old drew it, your Clarisse.

A soft, bubbly laugh erupted from your throat and you thanked her. You pinned it up on your headboard as she rambled, "I.. um... sorry if it's bad, I tried and the kids helped me, I just thought it's a good little gif-"

She was cut off by your lips on hers and she melted into your embrace. "It's cute, I love it, I love you. Thank you," you mumbled against her lips.

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demonslayer-art · 10 months

Text

Crowned Purple, crayon on white paper, June 2023

#crowned purple #crayon on white paper #june 2023 #amongus series

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starkwlkr · 2 months

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how bout a teenage Ruby fix where she starts dating, or maybe even a baby Ruby fix where she has like a fake wedding with one of her classmates and of course the absolute meltdown of Charles

here comes the bride | charles leclerc

i have several request for teenage ruby dating so i went with the fake wedding <3 and here we have the return of ben iykyk (he’s a classmate of ruby that appears in another fic) thanks for requesting!!

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when Charles received a piece of paper with crayon scribbled all over it from Ruby. He had just come back from his run and all he wanted was to take a shower and sleep so when he read the paper, he didn’t pay attention to it thinking it was just something Ruby wanted him to put on the refrigerator door with magnets so he did exactly that.

After taking a shower, he walked to his bedroom where his wife was waiting. As he passed by Ruby’s room, he saw her wearing her princess dress and heels, posing infront of her mirror.

“Ruby Jules, it’s time to sleep. You can dress up tomorrow. Put away your toys, okay?” Charles told her.

“Okay. I have a big day tomorrow, papa!” She smiled then proceeded to put away her Barbies in their designated spot.

Charles didn’t think much of it. Again, he thought that maybe she had a playdate the next day so he kissed her cheek and tucked her into bed. Then walked to Mathéo’s room and did the same.

The following morning, Charles was making himself a cup of tea when he heard the doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting company, but he opened the door anyways. Once he did, he saw several of the neighborhood kids and Ben, a classmate of Ruby, with toys in their hands. They often came over to play with Ruby.

“Hi Ruby’s papa, is Ruby here?” A boy asked.

“She’s in the backyard playing.” He let the group of five kids in. They knew their way around the house so they ran towards the backyard to play with Ruby.

“Isn’t it a little early for them? It’s eight thirty.” Y/n checked her watch as she made her way into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Ruby got up early too. Look at her, she’s already in her princess outfit. She was wearing it yesterday night.” Charles said.

“She’s been wearing it all week I think. And those plastic princess heels with Snow White on them. Last time she stepped on my foot with those I thought I was going to die. They fucking hurt. I want to punch whoever invented them.” Y/n said as she opened the refrigerator door to get milk for Mathéo’s bowl of cereal. That’s when she noticed the paper that Ruby had given Charles last night. In pink and blue crayon it read:

‘Ruby and Ben wedding

Where? Outside

When? Morning

bring toys for the bride and Ben’

In a matter of seconds, Y/n pieced it all together. So that’s why Ruby wanted her dress to be washed and for her toy chairs to be lined up in the backyard. As Charles watched the kids play outside, Y/n took the paper from the refrigerator. She then joined Charles by the glass sliding door that led to the backyard to watch the kids.

“Why does she need all of her stuffed animals outside? They’re going to get dirty! See? Floppy just fell to the ground and Snoopy’s fur is starting to be a different color! What if I go out there and tell her to put away her toys? The other kids brought toys, she could play with those.” Charles said then sipped on his tea.

“Well you can’t crash your daughters wedding. You’re going to look like an asshole.”

Then Charles spat out his tea getting all on the glass door. “What? Wedding? Nobody is getting married!”

“Oh my dear sweet husband.” Y/n laughed. “I’m guessing she gave this to you. I just saw it on the refrigerator door.” She handed the paper to Charles.

As he read it, Mathéo ran down the stairs with his own stuffed animal in hand. “Come on! We’re going to miss the wedding!”

“He knew about the wedding too?!” Charles was pushed outside by his son, Y/n following her boys to the backyard.

“Maman! Papa! Théo! You made it!” Ruby gasped as she saw her family walking towards her and Ben, who was dressed in a simple white shirt and black shorts.

“Yeah, I live here.” Charles stated. “Ruby Jules—” he was about to tell her the wedding was off when Y/n stopped him.

“It’s fake, Charles. Just let them play.” She reminded him. “Come on, let’s sit with the rest of the bride’s family.” She saw three empty seats next to Floppy and the rest of Ruby’s stuffed animals.

“Fine, but I’m just saying. . . No boy will ever be good enough for my precious girl.” He was about to sit down next to Floppy but Ruby stopped him.

“Papa, you have to walk me down the aisle. Please?” Ruby asked.

Charles couldn’t resist. Ruby was his little girl, of course he would do anything for her. So he grabbed her hand and took her to the end of the ‘aisle’ and while baby shark played, Charles and Ruby walked towards Ben.

When they reached Ben, Charles crouched down and look at the boy. “Don’t make my little girl cry or be sad, okay? If you do, all of Italy, Monaco and her uncles will hate you—”

“Charles, babe, don’t threaten the kid.” Y/n warned as Charles got up and placed a kiss on Ruby’s temple.

Charles then joined his wife and son and sat on the uncomfortable tiny plastic chair. “I thought I wouldn’t have to do this until she was older.”

“You’re okay, you’ll live. And I thought I would be the one crying when Ruby got married.” Y/n teased.

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader

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tranquil-ivy · 21 days

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The Prettiest Fairy Princess

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴅᴏᴍᴇꜱᴛɪᴄ ʟᴇᴏɴ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ.

"C'mon mommy!" Your little girl drags you to the living room, just having finished set up a "stage", 2 dining room chairs, an old pink sheet and construction paper with a background of a castle on a hill drawn in markers and crayons taped just above the sheet. It's for one of her performances she likes putting on now and again after writing her funny little stories.

Soon you're sat in the middle of the couch between her stuffed animals. Strawbeary, her large pink bear, to your right and her Bluey toy to your left. Soon a folded pieces of paper is put into the audiences hands, a crudely drawing fairy with a crown on it's head and a jumbled mess of 'The Fairy Princess' in sparkly gel pen. With enough glitter glue around the edges to choke someone to death.

"What's this?" You ask, your little one turning, now wearing what looks like mascara as a fake mustache. That old makeup you gave her really made her plays costume department thrive by the looks of it.

"It's a paybill!" She happily squeals, handing Bluey her paper.

"Playbill." You hear your husband correct her from the other room, you look into the hall wondering why he isn't being subjected to the audience like usual.

"A playbill!" She corrects herself, looking at you then back to the stage. Walking over she pushing her box of toys behind the curtain and grabs her fathers work jacket from the armchair near by. Putting it on and pushing the sleeves up to her little elbows as it swallows her. Crawling back behind the curtain her arm comes up, using Leon's flashlight and flicking it.

That's usually intermission... but God she really thought of everything.

Soon the room is filled with the sound of her ballet practice music from her room.

Ahhh, Leon must be a stage technician this time.

You hear your little one clear her throat, her tiny hand peaking above the sheet with a stuffed bunny in her hand.

"There once was a family of fairies that ruled a kingdom!" The bunny bounces slightly, fluffy ears wiggling as he's tousled around, her voice stretching with exaggeration. "In a kingdom of magical creatures! All happily living their lives as they could."

The bunny disappears, a Ken doll on a flip flop with a cotton ball pillow and tissue blanket appearing.

"But sadly, not everyone in the kingdom was doing well. The king was sick and the next heir needed to take the throne quickly before the king died. Because every marriage in the kingdom needed a royals blessing." Ken gets dropped to the floor with a clatter as the bunny appears again, the smile on your face only growing wider. Stifling a laugh as she continues.

"But there was a problem. No one in the kingdom wanted to marry the princess in line for the throne because she was different than any of the other fairy princesses..." Silence falls over the room for a few seconds. You hear shuffling, your daughters head poking out from behind the curtain towards the hall.

"Daddy, that's where you come in!" She harshly whispers before moving back into place.

"Sorry!" Settling in she repeats her line again.

"But there was a problem. No one in the kingdom wanted to marry the princess in line for the throne because she was different than any of the other fairy princesses."

You hear foot steps as your attention turns to the hall doorway as your husband steps through. You swallow your bottom lip, covering your mouth with your hand as you lean on your knees.

"oh my god..."

There Leon stood, your daughters bright white fairy wings on his back, straps stretched out way too far on him, the brightest pink lipstick you use to own smeared across his mouth and her princess tiara from a tea set she was given as a gift on his head. You desperately want to laugh at him but you can't. It would upset your daughter or worse... Make her cry.

You don't want to make your daughter cry.

"She was too tall for the other fairies to want to marry her!" You pull your hand from your mouth, gaining your control again. You mouth an 'I love you ' to Leon as he crosses his arms, not irritated but unamused, making the straps somehow stretch more against his shoulders. Your attention turns back to the bunny narrating the play.

"So the princess was sad and everyday she'd go to the pond not far from her castle. And sit with her only friend." The bunny dips down, being replaced by a frog plush, starting to bounce as your daughter spoke.

"Oh princess, why are you so sad?" Leon turns towards the frog, trying to put on his most delicate voice possible.

"No one wants to marry me frog. I just want someone to love me and... Help me protect my kingdom!" You let out a tiny giggle at his line stumble. He definitely wouldn't be winning a Tony anytime soon.

"I know what you need!" The frog sways energetically as he looks around. "I know of a place where you can have your wish granted."

The frog disappears and the bunnies back.

"So the fairy princess followed the frogs instructions to a wishing well in the middle of the woods. There she took out a coin, held it tight and threw it into the well while wishing for what she wanted most." Leon fished into his jeans and pulled out what looked like a button, tossing it behind the curtain.

"As she threw the coin a short handsome man came from the trees." Your daughter moves, fixing her fathers jacket back in place as she came to the front of the curtain.

"Who are you?" Says the very pretty fairy princess. Your daughter look up at Leon, face scrunched in what you guessed was supposed to be an angry expression.

"I'm the giant of this forest! What're you doing near my home!? Aren't you the kings daughter?" She asserts her voice to try sounding like a grown man but just ends up sounding like she's choking on something. You can't help but let out a tiny laugh and thankfully she's too busy with line delivery she doesn't seem to notice.

"I am the kings daughter! And you're a giant? But you're so small?" Leon glances down at his daughter, covering his own mouth as he tries keeping composure. She stomps her feet, readying herself to deliver her next line.

"Everyone says that I'm too small! I wish I could be bigger and show everyone home good I am."

"But I think you're perfectly fine the way you are. You're actually very handsome." Leon crouches down to her level, smiling at him as her eyes gleamed.

"And you're very beautiful madam. Would you like to be my wife?" Leon gasps excitedly, playing along with her enthusiasm. He always loved seeing his little girl look so excited.

"I'm not too tall for you?" The giant wraps his arms around the princess, hugging her tightly as he's hoisted into her arms. Leon carries her into the hallway and you raise your hands, about to clap when she rushes back in behind the curtain. Hoisting the bunny up.

"And so the giant and the fairy princess got married. Saving her kingdom and getting her fathers approval. Everyone lived happily ever after until the king died. The End!"

You start clapping as you stand up from the couch, your daughter coming out to take a bow, Leon coming back around the corner. He takes a little bow even before you get to your kids level.

"Honey, that was so good! Thank you for front row seats." She's jumping excitedly and smiles even wider when there's a knock at the door.

"Uncle Chris!" She screams running out of the living room. Leon freezes, staring at you while you stand.

"Chris is here?!" You look at him with a smirk.

"The boys are sleeping over tonight... Did you not remember?" Leon shakes his head starting to make a break for the hall.

"Uh, uh! I already texted Chris and he wants to see his nieces show... I didn't know you were gonna be in it though." You snort, covering your mouth as Leon looks at the hallway mirror and seems himself.

"Oh my God..." He looks mortified, knowing he's never gonna hear the end of this.

"Don't be so upset. At least you're the prettiest fairy princess in the whole house~"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes

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salchat · 5 months

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Today I decided I was going to do whatever the hell I liked, because it's chemo day tomorrow (again). But then I ended up doing lots of useful stuff. Huh. So I needed a reward, and drawing this cute little Dean seemed like a great reward!

I decided to use my neocolor crayons. They look like Crayola, but they're a bit bigger and much softer.

They blend and layer really well and they're also water-soluble, but I didn't use that feature here. They don't erase, obviously, although once you've got a few layers on the paper, you can scratch them off with a knife. Anyway, erasing isn't an issue, usually - you just go over the top. So you don't have to get all over-careful and 'Oh, no! What if I go wrong!'

Here's my rough first stage:

I chose the blue at random, out of my little tub of lots of colours. Not that I haven't looked at colour theory - I have. But I prefer to go with a childlike, 'ooh, pretty colour!' approach.

Here's stage two:

I put some shadows in and attempted to get his mouth in the right place. Dean’s mouth is always the hardest bit!

I find if I go over the whole lot in a flesh colour I can get more of a sense of what's working and what's not. I used a salmon pink, but any of the pale pinks would have done.

It's getting there, isn’t it? Looking a bit more Dean-like. His mouth still needs a lot of work. Typical...

So, yes, there's way too much highlighting around his mouth, but I've got the shape and position better. And his eyes are looking reasonable.

Oh. Whoops. Sorry! I got a bit carried away and forgot to do more progress shots!

Anyway, here he is, corrected as far as I can so you can see the actual colours. The paper's a lovely rich orange and the dark blue is juicy and bright and luminous.

I'm pretty pleased with him. In fact I love him. (Even though I can tell his eyes are just the tiniest bit squinty for some reason - probably because I didn't actually do the boring measuring-of-proportions stage that I really should definitely do, but don't because it's boring. Silly me.) I used the tiniest bit of white Sennelier oil pastel for the highlights. And if you're drawing in crayon or oil pastel, but can't afford Sennelier (which are stupidly expensive), just buy the white. It's well worth it.

Here's a close-up:

I might put him on my Redbubble, ArtBySalchat, if I remember.

Happy arting, fan artists!

#fanart #supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #crayons #my art process

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aureum-cordis · 3 months

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Lost & Found, Part 4

A/N: Hey! It’s been a short while since my last update, college got a little hectic for me. But I’ve gotta admit, this has been my favorite part to write so far. I really have to thank everyone for checking out this little fic and I appreciate all of the reblogs and follows, as well as the notes! Thank you all so much! Check out the other parts here: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

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You were more than content to have an audience as you drew an amalgamation of little doodles on the page you were provided. CraftyCorn was offering you any crayon, marker, or pencil you even vaguely gestured to while Bobby BearHug rested her head on DogDay’s shoulder.

The dog was unbothered by this, especially since this was the happiest he had seen the other two in what felt like years. He was grateful for this little moment of peace, even if some nagging thought attempted to plague his mind with negativity. It wasn’t as if he would ignore the thought that this could be stripped away just as quickly as it came, but he refused to feed into it.

Even he was surprised by the way he felt fiercely protective over you and the others, not that it was a negative form of surprise at all. You, and that precious little smile on your face as you lifted the page to show the trio of Smiling Critters that you had drawn them, had caused the little amount of hope in his heart to flourish. If you had survived then it was possible that they all could, that this situation wasn’t impossible to walk away from.

He wrapped his arm around the bear that rested her head on his shoulder in a side hug of sorts, allowing his own head to gently press against hers. The two watched as you gestured for CraftyCorn to join you, to which they happily accepted.

You still sat cross-legged on the ground but the unicorn laid on her stomach to join you, taking a crayon between their hooves and helping you in drawing the scenery of your little drawing of the Smiling Critters as well as yourself.

DogDay and Bobby BearHug watched you and the unicorn as you both drew an adorable image of the strange yet endearing quartet they had formed through chance. You and CraftyCorn were passing crayons and markers of various colors between each other, a wordless understanding between the two of you.

The leader of what remained of the Smiling Critters was more than content to just rest against the bear of the group as he watched you enjoy yourself, even if your hands were now covered in various colors from your composition.

You were far from deterred nor were you upset from such a thing, even going as far as admiring the smear of vibrant colors that covered your palms and fingers.

It was something so small yet noticeable that the dog and the bear couldn’t help but laugh softly at the little display, even more so as CraftyCorn lifted her hooves to show you that their luck with the crafts wasn’t all that orderly either.

The unicorn muttered her praises, admiring the way you drew each of them as well as the background they had been helping you design. You shook your head, pointing at yourself and then the Smiling Critter that had joined you.

She paused for a moment, watching your gesture before it finally clicked what you had meant. “Oh, I didn’t contribute much, this was all you. I could never take credit for it.” They replied in an amused yet genuine tone, it wasn’t fair when you had done the majority of the artwork.

You shook your head again, more enthusiastic this time and bent down to point at the paper. One of your small fingers rested on the drawn unicorn on the page, before you pointed at the real one in front of you. CraftyCorn raised her hooves in a manner that bordered on compliant, yielding their stance on rejecting any credit.

The white furred member of the Smiling Critters shifted from the prone position they were in to a seated one as she spoke. “While I still think I didn’t do much, I appreciate that you let me join you. Together, we created something that easily beats anything I have ever drawn alone.” You were positively beaming as you heard the final agreement that left the artist of the quartet.

Slowly, you moved the papers and the art supplies out of the way as you stood up. CraftyCorn was about to speak when you suddenly wrapped your arms around her torso and squeezed her in a warm embrace.

The unicorn was stunned, unsure of what to do at that moment, and turned to look at DogDay and Bobby BearHug. The dog was about to speak when the bear at his side hugged him in an instant, whispering as she did so. “Hug them!” It was a hushed shout in anything but you seemed unphased, nuzzling into the soft fur that was the unicorn’s chest as they gently wrapped their arms around you in return.

The touch was featherlight, as if you would break should any force be applied. Regardless, you were more than happy to be held even if it was by an incredibly careful unicorn.

A tired yawn left your mouth, the sound still audible despite the fact that you hadn’t, or perhaps were unable, to speak a word. With a balled up first, you rubbed one of your eyes which grew teary from the drowsiness that overcame you.

DogDay knew that you would crash soon when he had found you, the bags under your eyes were more than a sign of the sleep deprivation you suffered from. CraftyCorn allowed her arms to fall to her sides as you broke the hug and backed up slightly. Still rubbing your eyes, you turned to look at the duo that were still close together.

Bobby BearHug hadn’t let go of DogDay since she had first hugged him and he was content enough to not stop her. He didn’t have the heart to do so, not when she had been so distant until you came along, and because he didn’t mind the contact. With a slow and sluggish gait, you walked over to the two of them.

The orange dog was a little puzzled as you approached, extending the arm that he didn’t have around the bear at his side to you. You grabbed his arm and used it to steady your wobbly steps before you promptly sat yourself down in his lap. The suddenness of your action caused some of the wind to be knocked from him, but not a word of protest left his mouth.

He watched as you curled up in his lap and gently pulled the arm you had been holding onto earlier closer to you. He was more than willing to allow you to do such a thing and if he were able to cry in that moment, he would’ve. You wrapped your little arms around his as his hand rested against your back, supporting you to keep you from falling should you stir in your sleep.

A tired smile rested on your face as you looked up at him, before nestling up against his leg and closing your eyes. Together, all three of the Smiling Critters watched as your little chest rose and fell, falling entirely silent to keep from disturbing you as you rested. Collectively, they could all see how exhausted you were, which was exactly why they were more than willing to let you sleep.

For several long moments, they all remained where they were, simply observing you as you clung to the leader’s arm as if they would vanish if you let go. Carefully, CraftyCorn slowly approached the trio and sat down on the side of DogDay that was unoccupied.

There, she rested their chin on his shoulder and looked down at you, nothing but sympathy and a warmth that would soothe anyone in her gaze. They shifted slightly, resting against the dog with her body to be closer to him and you. He was more than pleased with the action, a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time came to the surface, warming his heart and bringing with it an unbridled sense of joy.

You had brought forth a side to himself and the others that he feared was long gone, yet in this very moment it returned. It wasn’t until he heard a steady and rythmic thumping against the ground did he realize what was happening. His tail was the cause of the sound, wagging openly as a display of his happiness and how overjoyed he was that the others had finally been able to find a beacon of hope in this otherwise grim situation.

None of those around him stirred at the disruption nor did they seem bothered by it in the slightest. DogDay himself was embarrassed by the physical reaction that displayed his elation, but it faded as Bobby BearHug continued to embrace him and CraftyCorn’s head now rested on his shoulder and their sides pressed against one another. They were just as content as he was and that only made the thumping of his tail increase in pace.

The only sounds that filled the room were the quiet inhales and exhales of your sleeping form and the sound of the orange dog’s tail as it met the floor as those most important to him were surrounding him. Despite the fact that they had all met you today, they all shared the same sentiment as their leader did. You were now a very dear member of what remained of the Smiling Critters.

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mr-spotatohead · 1 year

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-Inseparable.-

Welcome Home & Child!Reader Platonic.

Words: 3,470.

|Contains: Swearing. Slight Horror.|

Synopsis: You draw a lot, and you want attention from your mother, but she doesn't give you the attention you need. Until she puts on a show for you that caught your eye. And the main character gives you the attention you deserve.

You ran your hand across the white paper containing a green crayon. Your small, untrained hands made you pick up the crayon with your closed fist, scribbling on the paper with your grass-colored crayon. You were on your knees on the floor, with your toys and painting materials scattered around. You had your tongue out, concentrating hard on the work of art you were going to make.

"Uhum, yes, yes, I've checked that before." Your mother said in the background, her footsteps rushing, the sound of her shoes with a heel clicked against the floor. You continued drawing content to show the end result to your extremely busy mother. The cheap TV played in the background, it was something that didn't catch your attention.

You finished the drawing and got up awkwardly, happy to find your mother in the house, which was easy since she was right behind the couch. She was on the phone, her purse already in her arms, you approached her talking to her but she didn't hear you because she was already talking to someone else. She walked straight past you and made her way to the kitchen table, grabbing her car keys. You puffed out your cheeks. After being ignored, again. You walked back to the floor in front of the television. Your mother soon came close to you and bent down, placing a kiss on your head. "Sorry honey, mommy has to go out now. How about a cartoon for you to watch?" Your mother suggested already changing the channel, just watching the first thing that looked childish was enough. It was a cartoon. That was enough. You didn't even have time to show her your drawing because your mother already closed and locked the door. And left you alone again. Not that you cared, you're old enough to take care of yourself, and you are proud of it. But still, it was very disappointing not to have your mother's attention, all your drawings, all your work, your mother didn't have time, at least not anymore. You sulked now, you looked at your toys on the floor, you didn't feel like playing. Until an animated song started playing on the TV. Making you look at the screen. Your curious eyes observed how bad the quality of the show on your TV was. But that didn't matter to you. What caught your attention was the funny colors of the show. You watched the animation of the show go on like a normal day, showing a few houses in a colorful neighborhood, the camera moving closer to a greener place, focusing on a character. A man with blue hair. You kept looking at the screen, seeing that the character was concentrating on painting a picture, and when he finished, the character noticed the presence of the audience and commented. "Oh, hello, neighbor! You've finally arrived." The character smiled at the audience and that caught your attention. He moved to the side and put his equipment aside. Focusing on the audience. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it? How are you?" The character asked turning his head to the side. You, not taking your eyes off the screen, decided to sit on the floor. Curiosity on your face.

There was a silence after the question, and you wondered if the television had frozen as it sometimes does. But you could hear music in the background, so you decided to answer happily. "I'm fine! I just drew a picture, so I'm happy." "Oh, that's wonderful. When you're happy, I'm happy." The character smiled closing his eyes, with his hands together. You crossed your legs and let your hands rest in the space between them. A silly smile rose to your face. You genuinely liked that the character was paying attention to you. You, being a child with a creative mind, genuinely thought that the character was talking to you. Not noticing the generic lines that he responded to after you spoke. This character, that you just met, you don't know his name so far, but he asks you questions! He asks things of you. And that was exactly the kind of attention you wanted. And you were loving it!

"How many apples are in that tree?" "Four!" "Perfect! Four apples, one for Julie, one for Barnaby, one for me, and one for you, neighbor!" Wally was smiling and looking at you with such enthusiasm, you were jumping in place, even though you knew there was no way you could eat the apple. "Woah, time passes when you're having fun, doesn't it?" Wally said after the episode was coming to an end, at least you learned this character's name. "Well, we better get some rest, see you tomorrow, neighbor!" Wally said with a smile on his face, a little wave of the hand and then the credits rolled, you, still not satisfied, wanted more of that show. You just loved everything and everyone! Luckily, you saw the intro and the same song start playing again. You smiled contentedly, expecting more from the program. . . . This is the second day you've been watching Welcome Home, all afternoon you've been marathon watching the show, learning more about the characters, 'talking' to Wally and watching the comedy episodes. Today you were already in the living room waiting for the program to start, excited to watch them all again. Your mother noticed that you were absent in running around the house, she walked around the house, not being late this time. She noticed you in the living room, sitting on the floor watching TV. Your mother came over and when she went to ask you something, the show music started up and you excitedly hummed along. Seeing Wally already leaving his house, you smiled contently and spoke his name aloud. "Wally! Hi!!!" The puppet started with the identical opening line, which you didn't even realize was all from the show's script. But you were still happy to see the puppet answer you with the same "Oh, hello, neighbor! You've finally arrived."

You answered each question happily. Your mother looked at you with soft eyes. She saw how innocent you were to answer the TV. It was something simple and cute, that made you excited, so your mother let this channel play more often. . . .

This was the third day you were in the living room, waiting to watch your new favorite show. Your face was freshly wet, because what had happened earlier had made you very anxious. Your mother argued loudly on the phone, swearing, she even locked herself in another room so you couldn't hear, but it was difficult. So you tried to overcome this on your own, so you were lying on the floor drawing Wally, being soothed by drawing him. Your mother had to leave early today, but she would be back early too. So you were alone, waiting for the program to start. And when the music started, you excitedly sniffed and looked at the TV with sparkling eyes. Waiting for entertainment after waking up in an unpleasant way. Wally then appeared again, you were on the floor and quickly got up and sat down, grabbed your blankets and wrapped yourself up, since it was cold. Your favorite character came out of his house and started with his same normal question. "Oh, hello, neighbor! You've finally arrive-"

Suddenly, he stopped, in the middle of the sentence. You notice that the eyes of the puppet on the screen widened a little, as he noticed... something? Maybe. You curiously frowned slightly, wondering what had gotten into Wally? This is different. The pause that was taken left you confused, and then he continued, but his posture was different. "Uh- It's a beautiful day and…"

"How, uh. How are you?…" You watched the puppet in front of you with a more droopy posture, it didn't look like he was confident like all the other times. You shook your head, not thinking much. "I'm fine, how are you?" You asked just to ask, because you knew Wally would answer that anyway. But what you didn't expect was that the silence returned. The figure of Wally standing there, looking at you. Then you heard a low: "Are you sure?..."

You raised your eyebrows. Oh, he really answered you this time. You ran your hands over your face, feeling your hands get a little wet after wiping some of the liquid off your face. You looked down at your drawing and then looked into the puppet's eyes. "Hhm, I'm fine, Wally." You hummed affirming what you said earlier. But that didn't seem to have much effect, as the puppet in front of you stared at you with a silence in the background that seemed like forever before something happened.

And it wasn't what you expected. Because the image of Wally looking at you was soon replaced by the continuation of the episode. The view was of a clearing and a butterfly fluttered across the screen. You were surprised by Wally's strange behavior, but you ignored it.

The episode continued as usual, although Wally didn't appear for a few minutes. The characters are in a situation and need help, it was in this part that Wally would ask for your help in this situation. But he wasn't there. You questioned for a few seconds until the screen started to crash, the voices of some characters in the background still talking, but the screen was a mess, there were two scenes trying to appear on the screen, the colors were all mixed up and this made even the voices of the characters stop. Sitting in the dark with the screen all glitched made you a little worried, you remember that the last time the television was like this was on a rainy day. But it wasn't raining now. It made you get out of your blankets and look at the TV still frozen, occasionally making sounds. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. Your mother once hit the TV hard because she said it would fix it, you saw her do it, and it worked, maybe you could try it. Getting close to the TV you raised your small hand and slapped it lightly. Looking at the TV, it didn't work. Maybe you need more strength? You made your hand into a fist and when you went to lift it you were startled by the screen behaving more aggressively with colors and a loud, not pleasant, sound was made. "DO NOT" It was written illegibly on the screen, but you were able to read it despite the mess of glitches. "FIX IT." It appeared at the bottom of the screen, along with the other words. You stopped moving your hand and observed what was happening on the screen. Suddenly. Statics. The television became pure static, no music, no show, nothing. And then only two words appeared. The font was better, despite the random color streaks being made on the screen. "Let me." After a few seconds. The TV went black and a song started. You realized it was the intro of the show, without much doubt, the show started again, the animation of the houses in the neighborhood, the title 'Welcome Home', everything was normal again. You sighed, glad that it was working again, and then you saw him. Wally had his back to you, with a white canvas in front of him, he wasn't painting anything. And then he noticed you. He turned and smiled looking at you. "Oh, hello again neighbor." Wally said putting his brush aside. "Sorry about that, something happened. An... inconvenience." The man in blue said with a smile and his eyes closed, looking even a little forced. "But now! No interruptions. Let's talk, shall we?" Wally put his hands together and smiled broadly, looking at you again. You looked surprised at the screen. Talk? About what? You frowned and turned your head away. "Aren't we going to help your friends? Earlier they seemed to need help with who took their-"

Suddenly the screen changed and some characters from before appeared with a big smile on their faces. "Wowie! Thanks for finding my stuffed animal Wally and neighbor!" Sally said hugging the little toy. Julie nodded in agreement happy that they had found what was missing. And then the screen crashed and went back to the same greenish corner with Wally standing there smiling.

"See, they already found it, everyone is happy." Wally explained trying to convince you that there was no need to 'end the episode'. You frowned slightly, clearly not convinced. Wally quickly began.

"Although…" In a slightly lower voice, you looked at the screen curious by your favorite character's change of mood. "I'm out of ideas of what to paint." Wally let you look at the blank canvas with nothing on it. You happily jumped in place, taking interest. "Oh! I can help you!" You said enthusiastically, the puppet looked at you and a smile formed on his face, he put his hands on his own face, with the same kind of enthusiasm. "Perfect!"

Time passed and you two talked for hours. While Wally was painting what you suggested, you yourself decided to draw another picture, the atmosphere was fun and comfortable. You were loving this session of talking and painting.

"So, (Name)." Wally started, you hummed paying attention, not taking your eyes off your drawing. It was nice to hear Wally say your name instead of just neighbor, you told him at the beginning of your long conversation. "Why were you crying before? If it's okay to ask." Wally asked a bit monotonously, you scrabbled a bit at the colors abstractly and hummend thoughtfully. "Hmm, well…"

Wally is your friend, right? It's okay to tell him about you, he also tells you all about himself, so fair enough. "My mommy is very busy. She ignores all my drawings!" You said with your cheeks puffy. "Ah, but that's just not very nice of her, hm?" Wally commented, and you aggressively nodded several times. "But that has nothing to do with your crying, does it?"

You stopped swinging your legs and looked at the TV screen and just watched the back of Wally, who continued to paint the picture. You sighed and continued. "Yeah… Today my mom had an argument on the phone…. And she's very short-tempered, you know? She'll blow up at anything. She gets aggressive."

Your last line was probably what made Wally stop moving the brush across the canvas, as you were looking at the canvas, you saw Wally glance at you, his eyes were a tad sinister.

"With you?…"

You looked at Wally a little innocently and shook your head, "No, not with me, she locks herself in her room and breaks things right there. And I don't like it when she gets like that. That's why I was sad." As if your words were air, the puppet on the TV sighed, and turned his back again and continued painting.

"I'm done!" You smiled excitedly, the puppet looked back and watched you. "Already? That was quite fast." You laughed at Wally's comment and then got down on your knees, bringing your drawing to the screen, trying to show your drawing to the screen. "Look, look, what do you think?!" You smiled and looked at your drawing, expecting some kind of comment from Wally, but it was so quiet that you had to put your drawing down and look at him.

Wally was staring at you the whole time you got close to the screen, and the puppet raised one hand and coughed falsely. "I'm sorry, it's just that I can't see the drawing if you don't look into my eyes." Wally explained this and you were confused, the puppet explained to you how he can't see anything if someone doesn't look into his eyes. You thought that was strange but you held up the drawing while looking at Wally. And then he finally reacted, taking his eyes off you and looked at the drawing in your hands. He smiled big when he saw your little work of art, complimenting you in every way, watching your smile grow wider and wider with his company. You spent the whole afternoon talking and having fun, your mother came home a little exhausted. She greeted you from afar and went to make herself a cup of coffee. You didn't, however, do the usual thing of running after her after she arrived. You kept your conversation with Wally happy and content. Your mother noticed the change in your behavior. Like every day, you stopped interacting so much with her and started to stay more in front of the TV. Maybe this was a consequence of her actions in leaving you alone so much that now you didn't worry about bothering her. But one night. That's what changed things. You were so annoyed by your mother's neglect that you decided to turn on the TV on your own at night and talk to the only friend who made you feel good.

After the intro passed, you couldn't even keep your crying face long, after you knew that you would be happy with your friend's presence. You didn't even wait for Wally to arrive right on the scene and you quickly began to talk and talk, making the puppet in front of you look surprised by your state. You tried to wipe your full tears on your sleeves, along with your snot. "Shh, shh…" Wally tried to calm you down, you were so close to the screen, it was a bad feeling to see you in that state. The puppet managed to cheer you back up with sweet comments. Your face was red with a huge smile now. Although you started to cry in your room when you realized that your mother was ignoring you while she fiddled with her laptop, you ran into the living room in a loud, clearly sad voice. Your mother noticed her actions at that moment. And she tried to tidy things up a bit. She went into the living room, where she heard where you were talking.

What was strange, were you watching that program again? It looked like you were complaining about her to the TV. She walked silently into the living room and saw you standing near the TV, talking to it.

"Wally, can you be my best friend?" You asked, a few tears escaping and you wiped them away with your sleeves again. Your mother frowned at seeing you in this state, and just as she was about to step in to comfort you she noticed something that was probably not normal. "Of course, (Name). Best friends forever?" Wally asked smiling with half open eyes, he put his hand on the TV screen and you nodded aggressively with approval. "Forever!" Placing your hand on the TV screen where his was. Wally smiled contentedly, and since you were looking at him, he could see everything. He even managed to notice your mother in the back of the room, watching the interaction. The puppet's eyes widened a bit and he looked at you a little worried. Your mother then arrived frightened. And clearly with her heart in her hand. "(Name)." Your mother said firmly. You looked back and saw your mother's hand outstretched. "Come here." She said breathlessly. Staring at the puppet on the screen in fear. You denied it, however, and frowned. "No. I'm having fun with Wally." The nominee softened his gaze at looking at you, but soon intensified at looking at your mother. She approached you and pulled you up, quickly moving away from the TV. "(Name). Go to your room, it's not safe here." Suddenly the TV made a loud bang on the screen, two hands were there now, Wally's eyes fixed strongly on your mother, clearly not liking that you were being forced to leave him. "Stay the FUCK AWAY from them!" Your mother shouted at the TV, clearly frightened. You began to tear up again. Your mother was arguing with your best friend, that wasn't fair! "N-No, don't fight please…" You looked at Wally and he was looking at you, there was no emotion on his face except for that stare. But you still saw him as your friend. Your best friend! "Wally!" You held out your hand as if it would help you, and the TV once again made a loud bang. Your mother in panic quickly ran to her room and left you there, you still crying tried to open the door, but it was too late after you saw, your mother had unplugged the TV.

She still looked panicked and started to drag the TV away to throw it away. That night was the last time you saw your best friend.

. . . Was it?

-OO I was holding myself to not make a long one shot, I kinda see this as a rushed thing, but hey ho, I still liked writing this one :D-

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling welcome home #wally darling wh #welcome home wally #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanfic #welcome home x you #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you

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