#hello puppets mob au

[fnaffreak3478]

Hello puppets mob au

OH NO THERE HOT!!!

I ✨ Y A S S I F I E D ✨ em😭

[flowersofstarlight]

@fnaffreak3478

I just love Mob Riley and Nick! Their design is awesome, and uh… I know I said this already but um… They are hot. 😳🥰💖✨

(Also, I got Riley’s scar on her left eye this time.) And I also want to say that you are awesome, and I love your art style and how you draw Hello Puppets and your OCs. You did a fantastic job and I’m happy that you love my art. ^_^

[alexttheskeletonwolf]

I Droned Mob Riley AU

[sentientfunfetti]

begging for you to do a mob au wally hcs please please please

mob boss!wally/reader hcs

(mob boss wally and his au was made by @clownsuu on tumblr! go support their work!)

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!

CW// FOR THEMES OF POSSESSIVENESS, STALKING, MURDER, AND MUTILATION!

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the way you two met is unclear, nor does it matter, really. he felt a magnet pull to you. not in a 'smitten' or 'love at first sight' way, but in an intrigued and 'i wonder how far i can bend them until they break' way. totally normal. it wasn't until barnaby pointed out his growing fascination with you that he was more than comfortable acting on it.

romancing? oh, do you mean terrorizing? his way of showing affection would be letting you know he's there. always watching, and also sending you suspicious packages and...love letters'. these letters can range from...slightly affectionate threats to being downright cryptic. all lovingly written in red ink and cursive and brought to your mailbox! how did he get your address? haha! don't worry about it! (except maybe do.)

he took the advice from barnaby, by the way. resident 'lady killer'.(he is anything but in fact he likes men.) blame that guy.

when he finally and inevitably does make the decision to start seeking you out, it's small things at first. he shows up to your job in his usual disguise accompanied by howdy, of course. if you go to church he shows up there. 'small world.', he says. on the inside he smirks when you believe him. he totally hasn't followed you, figured out your schedule, where you live-- your friends and family...who would go looking for you if you went 'missing'. it's a shame really. happens all too often in the city you live in. easily covered up too. money and blackmail do wonders when the cops are just as human as the citizens.

more than anything, he loves seeing what makes you tick. shy away. what causes you to avert your eyes. he found out pretty quickly you don't like being stared at and felt joy. he loves staring. especially at you. he also loves it when you try and brush off how uncomfortable you really are. cute.

keep in mind that when he does come to you in his disguised form, you do NOT know it's him. in fact, if anything he would make sure that you don't know what he (wally) looks like. he would send you letters from the comfort of his home, and have someone else mail them. watch you from the shadows, or just have howdy do it. he does not have to go out of his way to have access to you.

at the end of the day his goal is simple: befriend you. make you trust him. make you his. let it be by taking your eye and making you a part of the neighborhood, or by keeping you locked away...or maybe he'll just keep you living in fear for the rest of your days. who knows. either option sounds entertaining to him.

one day, you open up to him about your stalker...and he can barely contain the joy he feels at how scared you sound. he comforts you, of course. when you tell him how you feel about the letters and packages, he almost slips up in his charade, so close to letting you know how he felt making them. he resists, of course, letting you think you just confided in someone trustworthy...nope!

the closer you two get, the more sides he sees of you. the more sides he sees of you the more he begins to realize you're not just another bird to cage. his interest in you grows. it's almost maddening. he learns more and more about you from you, and other people and sources all while keeping him and his neighborhood out of sight. you don't need to know about them...not yet.

he loves how alive you are, mostly. you have free will, and you love doing things with it. you have hobbies and friends, and you keep in touch with family (even if you don't he finds that interesting too dw). he thinks you're lovely, and your eye would be lovelier if it was his. bonus points if you have some sort of eye deformity/birth defect (lazy eye, messed up pupil etc)

the stalking stops for a bit. everything seems calm. you feel like you can just live your life again, and everything feels like it's normal. you start going out again and having fun. you meet up with someone. what you didn't know, is that just because the letters and packages have stopped, doesn't mean he has.

one thing leads to another, and you receive a new letter. same cursive. same ink. same seal. you open it, to see pictures:

of you, and them. on the piece of paper nestled and folded in the envelope, written in cursive is a message: '𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻, 𝓃𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝒷𝑜𝓇'

of course, just like he planned, you're back into his arms again. where you belonged. seeing you with someone else made him a little more sure of what kind of emotions he had for you. you were no different to howdy to him. that was clear now. you needed someone to keep you in line and in check, otherwise, you would wander off off of the face of the earth. that was not good. you wouldn't have to walk aimlessly for much longer. he would give you a purpose. you're too pathetic as you are now to be any use to him besides eye candy.

in the end, he realizes that he has to have you, by any means. you have to be his, under his wing, and make yourself useful like his other neighbors. like howdy. however you choose to do that is your choice, but what you don't have a choice in is having something to do with him. he will be in your life. either by shadow or memory. waking, or nightmare. he's content with both.

sooner or later, you and his 'other self' would become close enough for you to be invited to his house. you didn't question how big it was seeing as how you know he's a famous painter. nor did you question how many people lived with him. soon, the choice would have to be made. what will he do with you? will he keep you, or let you go free? only time will tell.

author’s note ⊹˚. ♡

thanks for the request, neighbor! first one i've had NOT using the anon thingy LOL. sorry if these are a bit too dark for your tastes, but i just had to put my two cents on how wally would handle you. i don't think he would see you any differently from how he sees howdy or barnaby. he wouldn't outright mistreat you, but i don't think this wally is really capable of love outside his obviously very warped sense of it. sorry! i was pulling from canon art to the au, this is just MY interpretation. feel free to disagree!

SIDENOTE BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO SAY IT: these are supposed to be DARK. there are no romantic feelings implied here because i don't interpret this wally being able to feel that way for anyone in a healthy way. just had to get that off my chest. please do NOT interpret these as romantic or god forbid sexual. i WILL block you.

thanks for the support!

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

[aerkame]

Hello again!, thank you for answer my question about the firefighter Y/N and i begin reading about your Welcome Home content and man oh man, i have alot of question but not like ' wait i'm confused ? ' But like ' OMG !! This sound cool, i want to know more!!.

So i hope you don't mind answer some more questions of my. 1. In Finfolk, does puppet replace human or both are two different races 2. Your Welcome Home Mob story say everyone x reader does that mean the creator OC as well 3. Does home talk anyone else besides Wally? That all question....for now! I'm sorry if some questions hard to understand.

Ack! Sorry this got buried a bit under the asks so I'll answer now before I forget it.

Yes, in the Finfolk AU normal puppets replace humans. I wanted to make it a puppet world in a sense. (This means puppet dragons, puppet vampires, puppet werewolves, puppet everything :) )

I will not include the OCs because I do not know if @clownsuu is fine with that. OCs are generally something I do not touch unless I have a clear okay from the creator of said OC(s). I do this for all fandoms because I think consent and respect is important, you never know if someone's OC might be really personal to them.

I'm assuming this is for the Finfolk AU. The answer is yes. Home will talk to anyone if he feels like it or if someone goes looking for him in the underwater caverns. He is based on Lovecraftian gods/The Deep Ones and Finfolk folklore so he's a giant dude just hiding somewhere, you're never going to see him out and about. That or he'll probably mess with someone's head from afar.

I hope this helped answer some things!

[ericaportfolio]

TW: For references/mentions of abuse. You all are going to hate this character.

After some of the last crazy few weeks, I finally finished another character sheet based on the art from the Hello Puppets games with another OC I created if the show did not get canceled, no fire, and no possessed murder puppets ever happened. This character was created when the Lackadaisy Pilot came out, but I added some Helluva Boss (don't watch the show if you are under 18 kids, please wait) mafia episode influences.

On the outside, Francis Nack, Father of Nick Nack, runs an Arcade Casino in one of the cities near the town the Handeemen lives. But in reality, Francis is the French Mob Boss and uses his Arcade Casino as a coverup for a money racketeering scheme. Sadly, after years of emotional and physical abuse, when Nick was about to turn 18 in a month, he was secretly approached by a banker who was hired by his missing mother, Jancis, years ago to give Nick his inheritance from her to use if he wanted to get away from the crime family and use that money for anything he wants to pursue. Obviously, Nick took the money, went to an art college, and years later joined the newly formed Handeemen group that later became a show. Blessing or a curse, on the premiere episode of Season 3, when the Handeemen accepted an offer to help a kid win a pinball tournament, they are suddenly picked up by a mysterious luxurious travel escort transportation. To Nick's (even Virginia's) dismay, it turned out that the pinball tournament was taking place at the same Arcade Casino with Francis waiting for them. As Francis's premiere episode progresses, his intentions are made clear becoming the main antagonist for Season 3. Yep, Season 3 became a French parody of The Godfather.

Historically, the law chased the Mafia out of Las Vegas during the Mid-1980s. Whoever got the character approved by the censors must have been the many therapists at the time when PSA episodes really started to kick in the late 1980s/early 1990s to spread awareness of child abuse because the Handeemen fandom was theorizing if Nick came from an abusive home, but nobody was expecting The Godfather route. So what better way to bring awareness than by making the abuser the main antagonist for the season. Francis is literally the French version of The Godfather. Along with Lackadaisy and Helluva Boss, his biggest inspiration came from the 2003 French animated comedy, The Triplets of Belleville, which is a CLASSIC!!! Though be warned of mature content in the film since the movie is for audiences thirteen and up. The mafia in that film is similar to the Nack Mob in this AU. Like father like son, they are almost alike, except for height and Francis is commonly nicknamed Scarface for his scar. Francis originally had Brown Hair that faded over time. To get the season approved by the producers and the censors, instead of having a regular Casino as a backdrop, they instead went with an Arcade Casino with arcade games, pinballs, and fair games in a classic Las Vegas-like setting.

Nick's mom, Jancis Nack, was a mixture of Riley and Daisy with Audrey Hepburn influences. Speaking of Daisy, Jancis's hair was inspired by Daisy's blueprints from the Hello Puppets games. Nick's mom's disappearance becomes one of the biggest mysteries in the show, some thinking Francis had something to do with it. So yeah, Nick has 🎵 parent/daddy issues🎵 everybody!

[im-s0rry]

Scamcair and The Existential Dread Lurking In My Mind :D

Hello all and welcome to tonight's posting of a bit of fanart and interpretations of, what I would assume to be, an AU of one of my friends in this sphere. But first, a prelude and a check in with my mental health.

As you all know by now, I am a System. I live with my Headmates in this Headspace where we all must suffer together. In all truth, we have been doubting ourselves. We've all been feeling this bit of existential dread on whether we truly are a System or not, on whether we're anything we say that we are. I hate to drag all of you, those who may not understand my personal pain, but I feel like I should state it for the record. I do not want it to go unsaid that I have been having these thoughts, but I also want to say that being a System has been freeing to us all. Our collective lives have felt so different in the best way possible from just the fact that we know what we are and that we have embraced it.

However, this was not the place to say all of this, I will admit. What I may also admit is that I have been both drawing Spamcair and have been drawing my interpretations of what this "Grimm Deltarune" character in my good friend Mr. Chaos's Self Insert AU could possibly be. After all, I would be the most knowledgeable person to ask what I would look like. . .At least I'd assume.

Firstly, my sketches of Scamcair.

I decided to take a few creative liberties with the design and add a few more elements from outfits of classical composers as well as adding more detail to the design in general. To @mrchaosman and @mercair , I hope I did this design justice in your eyes.

Secondly, we have my interpretations of myself, as well as my System, as what we could look like in a "Self Insert AU Chapter Three."

Take One - Take One is my idea for myself/Serena as the main boss of Chapter Three. I based her design off of an outfit that Serena just loves to be drawn in as well as incorporating ideas from mob bosses and rook chess pieces for the design as a whole.

Take Two - Take Two is my idea for my System as one collective secret boss. I based the design of Macabre off of lost media creepypastas as well as rabbits and an outfit my System has taken a liking to. The reason for the choice in making them a Bunny was because The True Mike Deltarune is a Bunny actually. . .And no other reasons whatsoever. Anyway, I can imagine Macabre as either an empty husk or a puppet that can flip on a dime to any one of the six people locked inside of her. Anyway, I represented my System by making us FRIENDs because we're all friends around here! They can shift Macabre's body at will because that's pretty cool and body horror-y if I do say so myself.

Take Three - Finally, Take Three was my idea for My System in the place of WD Gaster. This basically just resulted in me drawing our sonas as Goners which was pretty fun in all honesty. I do not know why I made Helvetica the Mystery Man sprite equivalent though.

And that, my friends, was a bit of fanart for Scamcair's AU that Mr. Chaos Man kind of just put me in for no real reason other than for the funsies. I hope you all enjoyed your time reading through this and found the designs passable. To all a goodfright. . .

-Sincerely, Jackal.

[functioning4lcoholic]

hello tumblr !!! i haven't been here in a hot while !!

here's a little something for you !! i've been dealing with massive wh brainrot but also an even massive-er art block !! :')

here's a silly sketch i'll (eventually, if ever) turn into a full illustration

humanized version of wally darling !!! mob au !!! mob au belongs to clownsuu (: !! (i would draw the puppet version but i was artblocked for so long that i've started to forget how to draw people in my style !!! i hope you do not mind)

[thewildlorelei]

Love is Sick and Love is Blind (Mob AU)

pairing: wally darling/original female character(Millie Morning)

rating: M

pretty obvious but this is fan content of welcome home

author's note:  Millie is my Welcome Home oc! Millie is a bunny puppet so there will be mention of things like her ears and tail and bunny feet. Just didn’t want people going in and being confused about the bunny talk. I will add reference art for what Millie looks like in this au once I get around to actually designing it lol. The design and concept for Mob Boss Wally comes from the Welcome Home Mob AU from clownsuu which is also linked. I highly recommend you check out their stuff if you haven’t already, it’s amazing. Please also note that this is more inspired by their au so I will be adding some of my own interpritation of things and won’t be 100% accurate to their canon lore for the au. Ok I think that’s everything for now, sorry this is so long lol Also the inspiration for the garden comes from "The boss's garden" on AO3 by Anonymous.

ao3 link, check here for tags related to rating

Mob Boss Wally Darling

Chapter 1 - Somewhere Only You Know

Today just had to be the worst day of Millie’s life. Why else would she be hiding away in the corner of a magnificent garden crying. She was in the most beautiful garden she had ever seen and she was sitting there, not enjoying any of it.

To be honest she shouldn’t even be here. She didn’t know who owned this garden. It was in the middle of town and didn’t seem to be a public place so she was technically trespassing. It wasn’t her fault though. She just needed a place to hide for a bit, just until she calmed down. There wasn’t anyone else here that she could see so she figured she was relatively safe.

Millie had only been living in the city for a couple of months now but things were already going badly. She just didn’t know what to do anymore, and so here she was crying. Because crying was what she was good at, it was like she was born to cry. She did it all the time, over every little thing. Most people around her thought it was annoying, that she was just being dramatic and a big cry baby. It really bothered her that they thought that, as if she could control it.

She wiped at her eyes under where they were hidden by her bangs, trying to stem the flow. It wasn’t helping. She had created a wet spot on her skirt where she had been leaning with her head on her knees. She was trying to think about her options, what she could do about her problems that were piling up. That was until a voice startled her from her thoughts.

“Hello there, neighbor.”

Millie gasped. Her ears shot straight up as she quickly lifted her head from her knees. There was a man standing beside the fence leading to her hiding spot. He was short, about the same height as her, his hair was blue and curly and pulled up into a messy roll on top. Curls fell loose beside his ears and down between his eyes. He was dressed nicely with striped pants, a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders, and a red ascot. A too large jacket was draped around his shoulders and he had his hands in his pockets. But the thing that was most notable about him was the scar over his right eye.

The eye was closed, she wondered if that meant it was gone. His other eye was trained on her, half lidded with an almost lazy look. He was smiling, so at least it didn’t seem like he was mad to find her here.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I heard you crying.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, is this your garden? I didn’t mean to intrude, I didn't think anyone was here.” She started to get up, wiping at her eyes again. “It is, but that’s alright, I usually come here to be alone, but it seems like you needed some alone time too.” He said with a laid back smile on his face. She couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment at getting caught, happy her face was so hidden behind her hair.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll just go.” Millie started to move from the corner she was in.

“You can’t leave yet, you’ve made me so curious why a beautiful girl like you is crying by herself in my garden.” He gave her a charming smile. “Please, walk with me. I’ll show you around the garden and you can tell me about it.” He tilted his head to gesture that she should come over to him. He had an intimidating air that she couldn’t quite place. It felt like he must be in charge of something, he had a commanding presence. She really didn’t want to upset him but she also knew not to trust strange men. He must be rich and powerful, she thought, for him to own such a large beautiful garden in the middle of the city.

He must have sensed her hesitation. “I promise I’m a good listener.” That was it, she couldn’t just walk away when he was being so nice about it. And honestly? She really could use someone to talk to, and she didn’t have anyone else at the moment. She smiled. “Alright. I would love to see the garden after all. I used to do some gardening myself, this place is magnificent.”

He led them over to a brick pathway that wound its way through the whole garden. He slowly walked beside her with even relaxed steps, pointing out a couple of things here and there that he liked most. About halfway through he slowed his pace. “So tell me, what brought you to my garden?”

She looked away. “Oh it all feels so silly now.”

“I’d like to hear about it anyway.” There was a slight tone in his voice that made her feel like this was more of a demand than a request. “Well, I moved to this city only a couple months ago. I moved in with my grandparents cause they are the only family I have left and I had nowhere else to go after my mom died. I didn’t have enough money to support myself at the time and they were nice enough to let me stay.” She started to fidget with her hands again. “But..they have changed since I was little. They have very strong expectations for people and have rigid ideas on what a person should be and do with their life. I ended up lying to them about what I was doing for work because I knew they wouldn’t like it.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a bartender. I really enjoy it actually, despite the drawbacks.” He nodded in understanding. “But this morning they found out what I had been doing. They were so mad, more than I thought they would be. They said what I was doing was sinful and that if I was going to do the devil's work that I wasn’t allowed to live there anymore. Not only that, they told me that they were disowning me, that I wasn’t their granddaughter anymore.” Her voice was tight, trying to swallow the tears that were forming again.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Family should be there for each other no matter what. And disowning family? Just deciding you don’t want to be family anymore? It doesn’t make sense. Family is for life.” There was something intense in the way he talked about it. “You must be very close to your family.” Millie prompted. “Oh yes, my family is everything to me.” She smiled. “That sounds so nice.” There was longing in her voice. They continued walking in silence for a moment.

“You know, that doesn’t actually explain how you ended up here in the garden.” “Oh yeah. Well, it’s sort of related. Like I said, I work at a bar nearby and a couple of days ago there were these two guys in there giving me a hard time. I work alone most of the time, except for the bouncer of course. They were so drunk and just wouldn’t leave me alone and I finally had to kick them out. They were pretty upset about it. They kept yelling and threatening to send the mob after me for treating them like that. It did freak me out a little.”

“The mob, huh?” He said, a hint of mirth in his voice. “What did these guys look like?” She described them to him and he hummed. “Sounds about right. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about them. Either they were lying about being in with the mob or they are so low level that no one will care if they got kicked out of some bar.” “Oh really? That’s honestly such a relief. I’m not trying to get on someone’s bad side right after I just got to this town.” Millie stopped for a moment to admire a bush of incredible multi-colored hydrangeas.

“Anyway, today I was taking a walk trying to clear my head and I just happened to see those men ahead on the street coming towards me. I was so upset from getting kicked out earlier and I really didn’t want to chance anything happening with them so I came down the alley over there.” She pointed to the fence where you could see a gap in the buildings on the other side. “I think they saw me cause they started following me down the alley. So I jumped the fence and ended up here.”

“You…jumped the fence? There’s razor wire at the top, how did you manage…?” She stuck out a foot, showing off her bare rabbit feet. “I’m really good at jumping high.” She laughed and continued her story. “Luckily it doesn’t seem like they kept following me. I was just so overwhelmed that I sat down and cried.” She turned her face away from him, feeling a little ashamed. “I cry really easy, people tend to call me a crybaby.” She laughed at herself a little.

“There’s no shame in crying, neighbor. All of that sounds like you are justified. I think I'd even shed some tears if I lost my family.” She looked back to him, giving him an appreciative smile. “So that’s it, that’s my sad story.”

“Hmm.” He thought for a moment. “What I’m hearing is that you need a new place to stay.” Her head fell forward slightly. “Yeah, I guess I do. I was planning on staying at a motel or something till I can find a new place.” She knew she shouldn’t be offering up so much information about herself to him, he was still just a stranger, but there was something about him that made her want to tell him everything.

“No, we can’t have that, neighbor.” He stopped beside a bush of beautiful shasta daisies, leaning down to pick one. He twirled the stem between his fingers. She noticed he had a silver ring on every finger on both hands.

“I know an apartment building nearby, it’s very nice, recently built. Rent’s high but I’ll give them a call and tell them I know someone looking for a place and ask them to lower rent to match what you can afford. How does that sound?” Millie was silent for a moment, shocked by the offer. “Really? That’s…that’s amazing…and..way too generous of you. We’ve only just met and you’d do that for me?”

He laughed, it was an awkward stuttered laugh, but it felt genuine. “Of course. I couldn’t very well just let you leave here knowing you had nowhere to go. Here…” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “This is the place. Give them a call later and they’ll get you sorted out.” She took the card and just stared at it like it was too good to be true. “Wow, how can I ever thank you for helping me like this?” He brought his hand to his chin as if he were considering it. “I’d like you to stay in touch, and go out to dinner with me sometime.” Her face felt hot. “Well I suppose that’s the least I can do to repay you for helping me like this.” “Deal?” He reached out as if to shake on it. She took his hand and laughed, shaking it. “Deal.”

He turned to keep walking along the path. “There is only a little more to see, then I’ll show you the door so you can leave without hopping over the fence.” She winced. “Sorry again about that.” She could feel him looking at her so she tried to pretend not to notice.

“What do you know about the local mob?” He asked suddenly. “It’s just that you mentioned those men and I’ve been wondering how much you know since you’re so new in town.”

“Hmmm, I know some stuff. I hear things in passing working at the bar. As far as I know there are two main families in this town. The Flowers?” He nodded stiffly. “And the other is the Home family I think?” “Yeah that’s right.” He was looking at her again. She almost felt like he was testing her. So she tried to offer more. “I really don’t know much beyond that. Oh! I do know the names of the heads of each family. There’s Aster Flowers, for the Flowers family of course, and the other is Wally Darling if I remember right. The guys at the bar talking about it said he was pretty scary. I’d really hate to get on his bad side, so I hope you’re right that he wouldn’t come after me.”

He laughed again, lighting touching his fingertips to his forehead. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” He raised his hand, gently placing the daisy in her hair behind her ear. She felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. There was just something so charming about him. He felt dangerous in a way but she couldn’t help but feel drawn in. They finally reached a gate that led out back to the street.

“Let me ask one last favor, let's say as ‘payment’ for entering my garden.” She laughed awkwardly again. “My sob story wasn’t enough?” “Not quite.” He sounded serious. “Um, sure.” That made her nervous, what if it was something she didn’t want to say or do?

“Let me see your eyes.”

“My eyes?” She asked. Well that was certainly much better than anything else that had flashed through her mind. “Yes.” He said, staring at her intently. She looked away for a moment. “Alright, I suppose.” She didn’t really mind, there was nothing to hide, well except for her face in general, but that was more of a comfort thing than an insecure thing. She reached up and pushed her bangs out of the way of her eyes. “It’s not like they're anything special.” She laughed to herself. He was silent for a moment. Actually maybe she was starting to feel insecure.

“Beautiful.”

Her eyes darted to his, he was so focused on her it made the heat rise in her cheeks again but this time she couldn’t hide it. His pupil dilated and his smile grew. After a moment he lightly shook his head. “Sorry for staring, but you have lovely eyes. Also that heart on your cheek is a surprise.”

She dropped her bangs, feeling safe again from having her emotions on such obvious display. “Oh yeah, I’ve always had that, kids used to tease me about it.” Ske mentally kicked herself a little, why had she said that. She thought that she better get out of there soon, this was all very intense and she felt like she needed time to breathe and think about all of this. He was staring again despite his apology for doing so, it gave her goosbumps. She thought she better thank him again and get going.

“Thank you again, mister…” She stopped, eyes going wide. “Oh! Where are my manners! You’ve been so kind and I haven’t even introduced myself.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Millie Morning!” The smile that appeared on his face could have made her melt. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Millie.” He took her hand in his.

“I’m Wally, Wally Darling.”

[fnaffreak3478]

Sorry for the inactivity, i forgot I was real

Been really tired lately and MASSIVE artblock smhhhh😔✊💔

[flowersofstarlight]

“The Monster You Created”

Mob AU belong to @fnaffreak3478

Jinx from Arcane gave me an idea to draw Mob AU Nick with these expressions. I figured “why not?” And so I had fun drawing him (and I also think Mob AU Nick is hot 💖✨🥰).

Anyway, I hope you like it and I really love your AU of Hello Puppets characters. ^_^

(If you haven’t heard of Arcane, I recommend watching this series on Netflix! It’s really good and a masterpiece!)

[faqsallysaus]

HELLO!! I think this explains it self :3

here are the aus you may ask!

COHC (Clonees Of Home's Control)

the producer/director of welcome home is making a cult, he created the puppets to look like their puppeteers so he can kill them when he gets the approval/chance to. they possess the puppets now living in the Welcome home World as whatever monster the director unleashed start trying to trap their souls inside, Wally and his other friends try to catch the creators of the website (the welcome home website) attention to save them and stop spreading welcome home so they can off the monster.

TLMS (The Local Meat Shop)

in this au, wally is the co-owner of a butcher shop that his father owns. he works his hardest and attempts to impress his father by whatever his father demands. he lives in a town called "home" more specifically, the neighborhood also named "home" with his nine friends. Julie joyful,Frank frankly,Eddie dear,howdy pillar, etc! he likes to take night walks. nobody knows why but someone always goes missing after he does.. (oh I wonder why?/s)

HACKER

Wally and his friends are a popular Hacker group who take requests online and help people find others or help them get the justice they want. they all wear masks to hide their faces the animals/design is a representative of what they do and are!

THSO (The Home's Safe Organisation)

basically the au is a mob au, Home has created a mob organisation that he feels too old to control. Wally takes control after being the longest member of it for years. now, what is T.H.S.O? T.H.S.O means "The Home's Safe Organisation," it's a mob organisation that values their members snd promises protection, security and safety for it's members.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

[tennessoui]

does mob boss!Anakin have a secret tag somewhere i'm not seeing kit sos i gotta get a fix

hello hello yes it now does. it didnt for a while because i couldn't think of one but it's based on this snippet and it now has a tag: playmaker au

(a playmaker is: "a player in a team game who leads attacks or brings other players on the same side into a position from which they could score." which just sounded so very anakin AND obi-wan in this au)

(also so if i ever write the fic, i could call it something like the playmaker and the puppeteer to keep with the same naming scheme as the other mob fic i have)

(no original ideas here no siree)

[kittlesandbugs]

I'm so interested in this HG recruitment AU. It sounds great.

Hi thank you for asking!

Okay, so, the basis of this is someone asked Malin in a QNA what if Step had been recruited by HG instead of becoming Sidestep and Malin answered that they would have thrived in that organization, witn more freedom than the Farm but still a hierarchy to follow and likely ended up highly ranked.

So I got brainworms thinking about it for Riley. And how HG would be intrigued by this dumb idiot kid with a crazy resemblance trying to pull one over at one of her casinos. Finding out she's telepathic and welp, who turns down a useful boost for a criminal organization?

(readmore for open alpha Retri spoilers and length lol)

Thread the kid, hire her, then HG has all the time in the world to solve the mystery.

Ortega tries to use Riley to get info about what's going on and they feed him minor shit/false leads and he's not that stupid to fall for it, but he still thinks he can turn her around, it's a thing, there's a lot of sexual tension, they might be secretly crushing on each other.

She helps out with the Nanosurge, albeit late and after a lot more damage is done, and HG's organization gets the reputation boost. Ortega goes even harder on trying to convince her to go legit and be a hero lol. He gets Riley to come along at HB by promising a huge favor in return because he's pretty sure it's a telepathic threat and the Rangers don't have anyone else strong in that field. Heartbreak exposes and rips out Riley's red threads (hi there puppetmaster scar instead of outside). She still gets retaken by the Farm.

She comes back to LD to do her villain thing but this time also in the firing radius is HG's organization. Hides under the radar, pleads escaping her criminal life when ortega finds her in the diner (not entirely a lie lol she doesn't want HG to know she's back). Still blows up the museum, anger motivation thru and thru there ain't no justice here. Way more blood spilled because no pesky Sidestep hero morals to regret over.

Starts her own mob with the intent of tearing down HG's criminal empire along with the farm. Hello, Jake rivalry (how dare she get replaced???). Maybe some puppet fuckery trying seduce and get rid of him.

How will HG react to finding out who's behind the mask? Shock? Anger? Regret? Gotta kill her now? Pissed she never showed herself once she was back? Would HG have taken it for truth Riley was dead or investigated more into HB? Doubt steel would have in this AU. Maybe HG decided not to threaten the fate of her empire over one lil Re-Gene? MYSTERY, but Riley sure does think that's the case and she's out for blood.