snorrrk mimimi
Wally Darling x Reader
Warnings: he watches you sleep bro :’) fluff though, nothin weird.
although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #1 :)
When you wake up in the morning, something is different…
“Good morning,”
A familiar sing-song voice gently coaxed you from your sleep. With a grunt and some shifting around, you settled back down, a deep sigh of content releasing from your nostrils.
“G’mornin, Darling,” you mumbled the surname of who you knew that voice belonged to. Your tone sounded more endearing than simply his last name, though.
Gosh, what a nice sleep you had. You were warm and cozy, blanket pulled up and around you, arms hugged around something comfy while a hand carefully rubbed along your back.
A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?
Another deep breath left your body, your mind slipping back into its relaxed, thoughtless state, until a peculiar thought disturbed just that.
Why was there a hand on your back?
Your brows twitched in confusion. Actually, let’s back up even more:
Why were you hearing Wally’s voice, and now his quiet giggles?
Groggy with sleep, you grumbled words incoherent to even yourself, forcing your heavy eyes open and looking up.
“Hi,” Wally’s eyes peered down into yours, his smile spread slightly wider than usual. Based on his expression, he seemed quite amused.
“Hi,” you muttered your reply, laying your head back down, satisfied you got your answers. Now it made sense! You heard his voice because he was here, and felt a hand because it was him. Easy peasy, and back to sleep you go!
…
…
…
But it didn’t make sense.
Why was he here? Why was your bed raising and deflating? Why hasn’t realization struck you yet?
…
A gasp tore through your lips. Your eyes darted open, and you quickly pushed yourself up. Ah, there was the realization!
“Wally!” You exclaimed, staring at the close-proximity face of your very familiar neighbor.
“Yes?” He responded.
You looked down at where you’d been resting. Wally’s body laid underneath yours, plonked on your couch. Your lower half had been situated in the couch space between his legs, your head having rested on his chest, where you spotted a small damp circle on his shirt.
“Please tell me I’m still dreaming,” you begged who knows what as a pool of embarrassment filled your stomach.
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I don’t believe you are,” Wally gave a little chuckle. “Are you well?”
“I am so sorry,” your hands covered your face as you sat back onto your legs. “Oh my goodness, this is so embarrassing…” you grumbled out, red in the face.
“What is there to be embarrassed about?” Wally’s voice rang out with perplexity as he was unable to find anything wrong.
“I fell asleep on you!” You exclaimed, hands removing themselves from your face. “And drooled on you, among-- other things, probably!” You groaned, shaking your head. How could you have let this happen?
The last bits you could remember were watching TV with Wally last night. He had stayed during the evening for a visit, but you don’t remember discussion of a sleepover. You must’ve trapped him whenever you passed out!
“That’s no big deal, silly,” Wally smiled. “It’s nothing more than a bit of drool. I get paint on me all the time!” Not quite the same, but you don’t point it out.
“But I basically trapped you here! You should’ve gone back to Home, but you had to deal with me instead,” you huffed, lost as to how he failed to see the problems.
“I could’ve gone back to Home,” he corrected, “but I didn’t wish to disturb you and wanted to stay here,” he added, before at least something seemed to click. “Oh, I suppose I see what’s wrong now. I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’m sorry,”
“No, that’s not—" you gave up, letting yourself lay back on his chest with a long groan. What did it matter anyways? You’d been there for a multitude of hours already.
“That’s not the issue,” you grumbled after a minute, more composed after getting that out of you. “You’re always welcome here,” you admitted, the flush on your cheeks partly for a different reason now.
“Ha ha, and you’re always welcome here, if you’d like,” his voice rumbled gently, his hand finding itself atop of your head this time. He loved to drown you further in your embarrassment, didn’t he?
Nonetheless, you relaxed a little, sighing. “I owe you an apology, though. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to stay overnight for my comfort, and I’m sorry for whatever odd things I probably did while asleep,”
“And I’ll tell you once again not to be,” he assured calmly. You could practically hear the amusement in his voice. “You’ve done nothing wrong at all. I hope you don’t mind this.”
Your eyes fell shut. Honestly? You didn’t. Although you were flustered, consciously aware of your current position now, it was… nice.
“… I’m not heavy, am I?”
“Not at all,”
Silence followed Wally’s promise, his thumb drawing shapes on your shoulder.
…
“… Your eyes move a little while you sleep,”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise, body shooting up to attention. “Do I sleep with my eyes open?”
“Ha ha! No, they move underneath your eyelids,” he shut his eyes, tapping his own eyelids for emphasis. “They moved side to side,” his fingers demonstrated the movement, eyes flicking open after.
“Oh thank goodness,” your body deflated in relief, lowering against him once more. “Yeah, they do that. It’s called, uh…” you paused, racking your mind for the term. “Oh, REM sleep, rapid eye movement,” you said as it came back to you.
“Is there a reason they do that?”
“I won’t lie, my minds too foggy to remember right now,” you shrugged with a light laugh. “Did I do anything else funky?”
“You talk,”
“Right, that quirk I knew about,” you giggled, rubbing a hand against your face, flustered by someone else learning your sleeping habits. Especially him of all people…
“Did I say anything eligible?” You asked. Most times you would only mumble, not too often understandable words or phrases.
Wally hummed in thought, looking up at the ceiling as he seemed to try to recall. “Well, for the most part, no,” he decided. “Just some random words. No deep, dark, secrets, ha ha,” he assured with a playful tone.
“Once again, thank goodness. I need to remain somewhat mysterious or else you’ll lose interest in me,” you jested, earning a pout.
“As if that would ever happen!” Wally smiled, shaking his head as he disagreed.
“Yeah, yeah,” you giggled, a blanket of silence falling back into place. You felt content, even a bit giddy to be in your neighbourly crush’s embrace. His clear lack of judgment or concern was comforting, as were his soft hums and gentle touches to your body.
Eventually, after you figured you’ve used poor Wally as a pillow for long enough, you finally pushed yourself back up. “Well Wally, I suppose we should start the day now, shouldn’t we?” Your sentence finished with a yawn, your arms reaching to the sky as you stretched. Wally only hummed as he watched you, head tipping to the side with interest.
“I suppose so, neighbour.”
You sure were a mystery to him, one that he’d like to unravel. There was so much about you he had yet to find out, but couldn’t wait to learn as he spent more time with you! So, for now, he’ll leave out the details of you murmuring his name in your sleep to save you the extra embarrassment. It was cute you were thinking of him, anyway.
here is a lil thing for welcome home B)
here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!
I hope you enjoyed, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 (gimme dopamine boost RAHHHH)
Posted Friday, April 21, 2023 at 2:35 PM
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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can’t talk about it
[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.
Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."
The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"
The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."
The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."
The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."
The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]
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