#first fic posted to my blog baybeeeee!!!

[rare-agere-reverie]

I have a fanfic request for welcome home (if your don’t mind!)

Caregiver(s): Eddie Dear

Regressor(s): Wally Darling

Plot: Eddie is going back to his home after he finished his mail route and spots an overstimulated, regressed Wally trying to hide his regression. Eddie decides to help Wally.

Please and thank you! 👋😅

Woo my first fic for the blog and it’s my hyperfixation! Hope I did your idea justice anon 📬

Something to Hold

CG!Eddie Dear + Little!Wally Darling

“Here’s your mail, Julie!” cheerfully proclaimed Eddie. He pulled a primary-colored letter with a pawprint stamp from his bag. The rainbow monster joyfully took it from him.

“Thanks for the letter, Eddie,” she replied, “Can you play Magic Bakery with me?” The mailman froze a little, remembering the last time Julie played that game. Poppy’s kitchen needed an entire week of cleaning after her sugar potion erupted in a splash of batter.

“I’d like to, but I don’t think I’m up for it,” Eddie excused, his right hand scratching at the back of his neck.

“That’s okay, I bet Frank would love to play Magic Bakery,” reassured Julie confidently. “Bye Eddie! Hope your day’s fun!”

“I’ll see you later!” He tipped his hat as he strolled away. Feeling his hand around inside his mailbag, Eddie sighed freely when he didn’t touch a single letter. Now that his day’s work is done, his schedule is free. Maybe I should fold some paper butterflies; Frank would love that. How about I cut a ribbon of stars? I could even deliver it to Sally. 

Caught up in his thoughts, Eddie tripped over a pebble. Slight pain flared a bit as he landed face first on the grass. He propped himself up, only to spot something small behind the post office.

Huh, did someone leave a package? 

Eddie kept walking, then realized the figure was one of his neighbors. His steps slowed stealthily, as if worried about scaring the person off. Hiding around a corner of the building, the mailman realized it was actually Wally.

The small darling seemed quiet and tense, unlike his usual content self. His ascot hung loose around his neck, his cardigan unbuttoned and nearly falling from his shoulders, and his chest heaving unsteadily. In Eddie’s favor, Wally’s eyes are too trained on the apple in his hands to notice someone spying on him. A self-soothing behavior taking virtually no effect.

The taller friend’s worry only grew at the sight. What could’ve scared him so badly? …I finished my route; it wouldn’t hurt to take a break. A sporadic yet subdued burst of footsteps carried Eddie closer, alerting Wally of his presence.

“Hey Darlin’,” the concerned man sat beside the shorter, “do you need any help?” With a slight turn of the head towards his friend, Wally’s shaking pupils dragged themselves to meet Eddie’s gaze. 

“No,” he decided, his voice soaked in anxiety. A blatant lie, unfit for a usually happy friend and neighbor.

“Oh, Wally, it’s okay to ask for help,” Eddie soothed, reaching a hand out for the frazzled artist. The painter hesitated, glancing wearily between his apple and his friend’s palm. Said friend never stopped displaying such genuine affection, effectively winning Wally over. Wordlessly, one hand held the red fruit while the other hovered over Eddie’s hand. The mail carrier kept a loose yet secure grip, propped Wally up, and led him inside the post office.

For the most part, the inside sparkled with cleanliness; only a side table was littered with scrap paper from a previous crafts project. Eddie placed his hat and work bag on the wall hooks behind the reception desk, and let go of Wally in the process. Free to explore, Wally felt drawn to the table of leftover materials, eyeing every individual paper. When the off-duty mailman returned his attention to his friend in need, his confusion grew a little. After all, Wally’s tantalized by spare pieces of the paper crowns he made for Sally’s last play.

“What is it, Darlin’?” Eddie asked, joining Wally at the cluttered table.

“Red,” mumbled the yellow puppet, pointing at a pile of paper triangles with the same color. He thoughtlessly placed his apple on the table, and admired the differing shades between the maroon scraps and the scarlet fruit.

“That’s right; they’re both red,” awkwardly added Eddie. Despite his quiet exhale unknowingly releasing itself, he couldn’t stop thinking about the unfamiliar behavior unfolding next to him. I’m glad he’s feeling better, but something ain’t right.

“Gween,” Wally muttered, now pointing towards a couple of poorly-cut ovals. That certainly snapped the distracted mailman out of his thoughts.

“Green?” repeated Eddie, mental wheels finding enough courage to turn. Maybe he wants to distract himself with colors, he rationalized. At this apparent correction of pronunciation, the secretly-regressed little darted his eyes down to his fingers, which gently tapped on the table.

“Yeah, that,” spoke Wally, voice shy and small. It melted Eddie’s heart with melancholy, yearning for the artist’s happiness to return. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad, Darlin’,” affirmed Eddie, his words sweeter than any apples Wally had seen. “Just know I want to help you find your smile again, okay?” The regressor nodded confidently, his clear gaze fixed onto Eddie’s while his hands made a grabby motion towards the mail carrier.

“Oh! You want a hug?” Words escaped Wally; he could only repeat his grabby hands. “Aww, of course I will, Darlin’!” Protecting arms wrapped snugly around the little’s limp body.

Smiles on their faces, they stayed like that until Wally’s eyes slowly closed. Naturally, Eddie pulled out his Murphy bed and tucked the sleepy darling underneath soft blankets. As one of them napped, the other lovingly watched over them.

[sarandipitywrites]

oh, boy. pretty much anything i interact with has the potential to influence my writing (Spark Signature was just not coming together until i heard Corvyx's cover of I'm With You by Avril Lavigne and that just... fixed it? somehow?). i think my brain's just a katamari: it grabs onto everything that comes into contact with it, to possibly be knocked loose at a later time.

talking early influences, though, a few do stand out:

Jak and Daxter (no one who knows my blog will be surprised by this). the tonal shift/Came Back Wrong dynamic from Jak II very possibly rewired my whole brain.

I Am Ghost, specifically their album Lovers' Requiem. probably at least 50% responsible for my need to Make A Playlist for everything.

Warrior Cats series. i'm 99% sure that was the first thing i ever wrote fanfiction for (no, i did not post it anywhere; it has sadly been lost to time, dead hard drives, and a severe lack of proper backup hygiene).

early 2000's video games with sassy af protagonists (Sonic and Sly and Ratchet and Dante and yes, i am counting Daxter in this).

more recent influences could include:

Supernatural. it booted me back into writing fanfic, had a non-zero impact on my love for melodrama, and pushed me onto tumblr back in ye olde 2012.

Motionless in White. more Playlist Hell, and Scoring the End of the World basically wrote Dead Roots, Dark Water. that fic is just J&D, MIW, and my personal issues all wearing a trenchcoat.

basically every book i've read in the last 5 or so years. The Bruising of Qilwa? oh look, there it is in Dead Roots, Dark Water. Red, White, and Royal Blue? The Heart Principle? Radiance? oh, hey, they're in The Art of Empty Space. No Gods, No Monsters? Every Heart a Doorway? Sharp Objects? Legends and Lattes? they're all in Spark Signature baybeeeee

Jak and Daxter. again. this level of brainrot deserves two mentions (and revisiting the series after having had a Came Back Wrong experience of my own was. uh. it hit different)

i've officially fried my brain for the night, so i'll leave this an open tag for anyone who wants to share :D

question for writers

I was thinking about what sources of media most inspires my writing style and themes, and after some thought I realized I am most influenced by the media I watched when I was 13-15.

Now, writers, I want to ask you: what TV shows, movies, web series, games, comics, etc. inspires your writing style the most, even implicitly?