What I Think It Would Be Like To Cuddle With The OUAW Lads!!! (+ Hootsie!)

May i ask for Married Mud headcanons ?

hi kinda short sorry i have no idea how married people act my parents hate eachother LOL :3 adding everything new I've written to the masterlist <3

MUD X READER | MARRIED HEADCANONS

He proposed by coughing up an old, slightly cracked ring from his throat and holding it out to you with a grin. It might be made of bone, some metal, who knows. So romantic. The little thing wasn’t expensive or GREAT looking by any means, but he found something he thought you would like. It's pretty nice by GD standards

He never wants to sleep in the freezer ever again. I mentioned before that ever since you got together, he started staying over at your place if you have one, or at least sleeping near you. He’d make any excuse to not sleep back there ever again. But now that you’re married? Absolutely not. He’ll want to share a place of your own together.

Also! Your wedding isn’t anything formal (or normal). He’ll try to arrange some small family event that ends up in chaos. He insists on wearing your best outfit (matching btw) from now on he’s introducing you as his spouse and THEN your name.

The wedding was supposed to be a little get together at the shop. Ken was cooking up something begrudgingly, Mel and Breadhead putting up small decorations. Ken is glad old Mud was able to find someone, maybe finally he’ll calm down a little and work a little harder at the shop. If you got to the point where you’re marrying his brother, it means he likes you enough too.

Anyways in the middle of the party it gets raided by some other rivals. The whole place gets stained with purple. Gun shots, explosions, brains out everywhere. Mud seems to fall harder if you fight by his side. Your outfits are ruined but oh well! He likes the purple on you. He’d do a maniac little laugh at the end of it then scoop you up and kiss you. It’s in the most uncomfortable position for you since he’s so slippery and probably bent all weird, but its special in its own way.

Matching rings! He definitely has your name or initials carved on the inside of the ring, never takes it off. He didn’t tell you but his name is carved in yours too :3 if you forget to wear it or take it off for a second he’s immediately interrogating you.

“Hey… so uh, where’s your ring?” As he pulls up your hand to REALLY inspect your fingers. He’ll get all grumbly about it too.

He’s sleazy but he’s committed to you. Lowkey he never thought he’d get close to something like marriage <3

mood rn

I promise I'll start writing again but I'm not doing great mentally right now- haven't been for a while :(

Porch Light

Wally Darling/Reader, Wally Darling & Reader

Contents: Gen, fluff, comfort, very mild Canon-adjacent spooks, gender-neutral reader, can be interpreted as romantic or platonic relationship, reader is a neighbour, bolded parts of Wally's dialogue are to convey his slow speech and stress on certain words and syllables

Word count: 3,272

Notes: Part of the @fluffbruary 2025 event! Check it out! This is from the day one prompts "Dark" and "Wander". I've written a handful of these already, and as much as I'd like to port them over to Tumblr I feel it would take too long ^^;; -- but feel free to explore my other oneshots for this event over on AO3!!

----------

You hadn't meant to be out so late.

Frank had invited you over to their house that evening to watch the fireflies gather in their backyard. He had been cultivating the perfect environment there for the little lightening bugs, sprinkling a special mix of wildflower seeds he had ordered from a gardening catalogue and letting the grass grow long. Julie had been there when you arrived in the late afternoon, bouncing a ball against the siding of Frank's house. The three of you chatted as the sun slowly crawled to the horizon, talking about what you had done during the day.

Frank turned out their porch light when the sky began to turn yellow, explaining that the fireflies disliked the artificial light. You leaned your elbows on the railing, listening to Frank as he talked about fireflies until Julie had shrieked out, pointing,

"Look!!"

There was a faint light in the grass, a slow blinking yellow light. Then, another across the way. Then another. Then another.

You could not believe your eyes-- you had seen fireflies once or twice before, but not in such a number. There had to be ten million of them flitting around, twinkling at you three in the ebbing sunlight. Frank had explained that each species had their own special pattern so that males and females could find each other. They had gently reached out and scooped up one that had lazily fluttered a little too close, placing it in your palms so you could look closer as he corralled a different one into his hands. Julie had snatched one right out of the sky with a 'woo!' and a wide smile, holding her fingers tight around the bug as the three of you compared your bug's patterns.

The one Frank held went blink blink blink blink... blink blink...

While the one in your hands went blink flash flash... blink flash... flash...

And Julie's bug went blink blink blink... flash flash flash... blink blink blink...

The whole event had been a near magical moment, and you could have spent forever there, laughing and talking with your neighbours. But the world turned, and the sun set, and then suddenly you were looking above the yellow-white glow of Frank's lawn to see nothing-- just the darkness of the night.

It seemed like the two of them hadn't noticed the time pass either-- Julie made a small sound and looked at her wrist. She had no watch on.

"Oh my! It's basically nighttime!"

Frank let out a little huff, looking beyond his backyard with a disgruntled expression as if it had personally offended him.

"Well, that's no good."

They turned to you, then.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed the time passing. I--"

"Don't worry about it!" you replied, standing up and rubbing your hands on your pants.

"It was a very lovely evening with you two. Thank you for inviting me, Frank."

You nodded at your grey-felted neighbour, whose scowl grew deeper.

"Oh, you're not staying over at Frank's?" Julie asked, tilting her head. Her eyes darted to her best friend before she piped up.

"That's great! Then you can stay at mine for the night! I had the idea for a new sleepover game called "double-pillow-dutch" that I really think you'll like!"

You laughed, shaking your head as you stepped off the porch. Carefully, of course, so as to not step on any fireflies.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm okay. I'll just walk home, it's not that far."

You were able to see the two puppets exchange a sort of worried look between each other, now. You didn't quite understand it. "I- Well-- Um, if you're sure-" Frank stuttered, but you were already walking off into the dark.

"Goodnight you two! See you in the morning!"

Oddly enough, your words almost sounded muted, like speaking into fog. Yet you had seen no indication of such a thing while in Frank's backyard.

But you continued on into the night, only realizing after a dozen steps that it was much, much darker than you had realized.

You looked back, but you had already moved in such a way that obscured Frank's backyard from your dight. That carpet of tiny stars was gone-- only a handful of fireflies flew around in the night, their lights faint and flickering.

Swallowing heavily, you huffed out a heavy breath and continued on.

It was dark. Darker than dark. So dark you couldn't see your feet, or your hand waving in front of your face. The only way you could navigate was by the scant few fireflies that had wandered out into the neighbourhood, and the few porch lights that your neighbours still had on.

But those too, were going out. You watched, dismay washing over you, as Poppy's light winked out; the only thing you had been orienting yourself to.

You... probably should have taken Frank up on their offer.

You could hear the crunch of dirt under your shoes, though. So you were likely on the path that wound all the way around the neighbourhood. You just had to follow that, and you'd eventually get to your house. It was fine. Everything was fine.

...

You kinda felt like you were being watched.

Which was, like, probable. Some of your neighbours could be night owls, still ambling about in their homes. They could be looking right at you, and just not know. It was fine. There was nothing out there in the neighbourhood, anyway.

...

What was that?

Almost a slithering sound, something sliding over the grass. Faint, but disruptive enough for your ears to pick up on it. You held back a surprised noise, tucking your arms close to your chest as you turned in that direction.

You didn't see anything, of course. It was dark.

...

You took a step forward, the dirt crunching under your shoe. You cringed, freezing in place.

...

There it was again. That slithering. And almost a dragging, too. Like something picking its foot up.

...

You swallowed heavily and prepared to scream.

But then--

You heard a creaking, the faint grind of brick against brick. You turned to the noise just as a light went on and beamed directly into your eyes.

Ouch!

But yay!

It was Home who had lit the night up, porch light like a beacon of hope in the pitch blackness that had been your world for the past... However long it had been. Their eyes were turned in your direction, shutters rattling against their siding in a surprised, almost frantic way.

Their door opened a second later, and Wally popped out. Obviously interrupted in the middle of his nightly routine; bundled up in a red and yellow robe patterned much like his well loved (albeit blue) cardigan, a red sleepmask with a closed yellow eye design sitting on his forehead. His voice hardly carried as he turned his head towards one of his house's windows.

"What's wrong, Home?" he asked them lowly. They looked off in your direction, starting to creak out a response just as you blinked the purple spots out of your vision.

"Wally!" you called out, holding a hand up. His head turned towards the sound of your voice, eyelids flying back as he did so. 

"Oh, you." he replied, voice going airy with relief. His pupils flickered back and forth, as if trying to find you in the nights murk-- you lowered your hand as you realized he couldn't see it.

The felt above his eyes creased after a moment, smile shrinking just a touch.

"You shouldn't be out this late."

"I know." you huffed sheepishly as you strode towards Home, giving him a crooked smile as you reached the light. Crossing Home's warm porch light glow seemed to ease some sort of heaviness in your chest. Wally looked up at you, the crease disappearing as he tilted his head, eyelids drooping once more and smile returning to its usual width.

"I'm glad Home saw you out here."

Said house let out a squeeeeak as its door opened wider, doorknob slipping from Wally's hand. He looked to his now empty hand, closing and relaxing it after a second and turning back to you.

"Yes. Come on in." he said, stepping sideways away from Home to make room for you to enter. Your smile crinkled at the edges as you walked inside, Wally following close behind and shutting Home's door gently once you both had crossed the threshold.

The curtain on the opposite side of the door's hinges fluttered out at the air differential, snagging on one of your shoulders and brushing against your arm as the house creaked above you.

"Home's asking why you were walking all alone in the dark." Wally said, walking around to face you and clasping his hands in front of himself. You sighed, reaching out to pluck a bit of fuzz off of the collar of his thinly striped, mostly white pajamas. He stayed completely still as you did so, focused on your face.

"I was watching the fireflies in Frank's backyard with them and Julie, and we all lost track of time." you replied, brushing at the curtain curling around your elbow before gently plucking it up and off your body. It clung to you just a touch before relenting, leaving behind a prickle of static electricity across your skin.

"Oh? The fireflies?" Wally asked with a tilt of his head.

"Are they out already?"

"Yes! Did Frank not-- um..." you shut your mouth as you realized that Frank may have not invited Wally over on purpose. Like they hadn't invited Eddie because of his fear of insects, or Barnaby because of... well, obvious reasons.

"Not what?"

Wally blinked at you, eyes widening after a beat.

"Ah. Not invite me over? No, he did. I was painting." he said finally. You let out a reciprocal 'ah' and nodded, a wry twist to your mouth.

"Fair enough. I'm pretty sure they'll be here for a while, a week at least. You have plenty of time to see them."

You felt a yawn coming on, then. That urge that bubbled in your chest, in the bottom of your jaw. You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth to quell it, to no avail. Overtaken by the need, you covered your mouth and nose with your hand, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a loud yawn.

"Ooogh, I'm sleepy." you said, looking down at Wally and smiling.

"Well, I should get going back to my house. Thanks for the save, you two."

His own smile flattened, slightly, that wrinkle returning as his eyelids drooped more at the outer corners. Home creaked around you, a door opening and slamming shut further in.

"But you're here now."

You could understand his mildly obtuse wording-- that he was offering for you to stay there overnight. You shook your head, waving a hand dismissively.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to intrude--"

You were interrupted by the deadbolt in the front door sliding shut with a solid ker-chunk. Home lifted a curtain to glare at you as you turned, surprised, at the sound. There was no heat to her gaze, but the message was clear as his curtain fell back to a restful, sleeping position. You weren't going back out until morning.

"You aren't intruding. We like having you over." Wally said, verbalizing Home's actions. You sighed, pressing your lips together before a smile overtook your frown.

"Fine, fine. I'll spend the night."

Wally straightened up, face brightening as his eyes went wide, smile regaining its warm, easy curve.

"How lovely. It's been a long time since we've had a sleepover."

You knew he was referring to him and Home, because you hadn't had a sleepover with Wally yet. He clapped his hands together, slowly, in such a way that made no noise.

Home creaked in confirmation. At the same time, the floorboards wiggled under your feet, and you couldn't help but let out a little 'psshh' as you relented and took your shoes off. You set them on the shoe rack as Home wriggled their curtains proudly, creaking in a smug way above you. You pressed your fingers to your lips and blew them a kiss before turning to Wally.

"Do you have any spare clothes I can use as pajamas? That'll fit me?"

Wally looked up and to the side, crossing his arms and putting a hand under his chin.

"I'm not sure. We can find out."

Home squeaked, and Wally nodded.

"Let's start there."

He began walking further into the house, and you followed close behind.

Turns out he did have some clothes in your size— or well, close to it. Some things Julie had left behind at some point. Or maybe Sally? Perhaps Frank’s clothes. Or Barnaby’s. Or a mix of two of the lot.

You weren’t sure— it was just a pair of yellow, soft cotton lounge pants in a bright floral pattern, and a dark blue shirt with a smiling, close-eyed moon on it. But Wally handed them to you, neatly folded in his outstretched hands, and you took them gratefully.

Changing in the bathroom, you emerged from it with your clothes folded haphazardly in your hands and some clinking sounds coming from the kitchen.

"Walls?" you called out curiously.

"Here." he responded evenly, and though it was a vague answer you confirmed to yourself that it was him moving about and walked down the stairs.

His kitchen was lit by the small light above the sink, casting the cozy nook in a warm glow. You really loved this part of Home-- the counter stretched around in a near complete rectangle, with dark blue countertops and red cabinets. A red stove sat on one wall, and a red fridge on the other. A kettle sat on the stove over a coil, and Wally stood on a wooden chair with his face in a cabinet. Dragged over from the dining table, from what you could gather.

"What'cha doing?" you asked as you stepped into the kitchen area, leaning back against a counter. Wally withdrew from the cabinet, holding a single mug in his hand.

"During sleepovers you have hot cocoa." he said, sounding like he was repeating the words of someone else. He tilted his head at you, questioning.

"Right?"

You nodded, and he nodded back in a sure way, setting the mug on the counter before grabbing another. Smiling at how he carefully stepped down from the chair and dragged it over to another set of cabinets to grab the cocoa mix.

You stood up from your lean to grab the kitchen chair as he went to the fridge for the milk, giving him a closed eye smile as you brought it back to the dining table and pushed it in.

"Oh. Thank you." Wally said, and you nodded.

"No problem."

You continued to help set up the drinks, grabbing spoons from the drawer (that Home had eased open as you approached) and pouring the milk in after Wally had scooped the spoonfuls into the mugs.

When the kettle whistled, he took it off, and you stirred as he poured. The scent of rich chocolate wafted up from the mugs, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

Wally picked his up, holding it with both hands and waiting as you grabbed your own before shuffling over to the living room. He waited for you to sit on the couch before he did, and copied your movements as you brought the mug up to your face and smelled the steam.

"Mmm..." you sighed.

"M..." Wally said, more of a short chirp than a sigh. You smiled at that and took a sip, though he simply stared down at his drink.

"Were the fireflies nice?" he asked you after you had pulled your mouth back from the lip of the mug.

"Oh yes! They're about yay big-" you made a circle with your index and thumb about the size of a small plum, "with fuzzy antenna and sweet little faces. Each species has their own little light show that helps them find each other. Isn't that lovely?"

"That's lovely." he said, imitating you. And you laughed out loud this time, chuckling as you went in for another swig. The two of you sat there in amicable silence; you slowly drank as Wally gazed down at his own, and as the warmth of the hot cocoa began to emanate through your body, you began to grow sleepy.

Home had only one bedroom-- what would have been a guest room was instead Wally's art room. You assumed you were sleeping on the couch, which was confirmed after you had finished your drink. As you set the empty mug on the coffee table, Wally set his mug down too, careful not spill it, before walking over to the linen closet. Wally stood on his tiptoes as he pulled out a thick quilted blanket, nearly tumbling back as Home pushed it out into his arms. You sat up in alarm, only relaxing as Wally regained his balance. The quilt was so thick and folded so well that it completely obscured his face; you laughed as he turned and shuffled forward slowly, blindly.

"Peek your head around the side, you can see where you're going that way." you said to him. He did so a second later, eyes widening slightly as his head popped out to the right. Your face scrunched up in amusement as he strode forward much more confidently, now, walking over to the couch and setting the blanket on your lap. He then grabbed the decorative pillow sitting off to the side of the couch and turned it to lay against the arm, fluffing the sides before turning to you.

"I'll tuck you in."

You raised your eyebrows, but nodded, leaning back and swinging your legs up onto the couch cushions. You started to unfold the blanket, yours and Wally's hands brushing for a moment as he did the same-- eventually you were able to pull out one half of the corners as he did the others, pulling the blanket down over your feet.

You craned your head to watch as Wally used both hands to tuck the blanket down and around your feet; gently, so gently as to barely be effective, he moved up, the motions of his hands similar to how he fluffed the pillow your head was resting on.

Still, you appreciated the effort he was making, giving him a smile as he pressed his hands around your shoulders.

"Thank you Wally." you said.

"You're welcome." he replied. You saw his eyes dilate as they met your own, just slightly. Then, he leaned in, eyes sliding shut as he pressed his mouth to your forehead.

"Mwah!"

His felt tickled your skin, and you giggled as he pulled back with an exaggerated sound effect.

"Good night neighbour." he said.

"Goodnight." you replied, blinking sleepily at him. You watched as he picked up both mugs, closing your eyes and listening as he went to the kitchen and poured the contents of his own out, setting them both in the sink.

"Good night Home." you heard him say quietly. Home let out a few sleepy squeaks, and you heard Wally walk up the stairs as the lamp in the living room turned off, letting the darkness settle behind your eyelids.

"Goodnight Home." you murmured as well-- it was only polite, after all. The house creaked back, and though you never really understood him you knew exactly what he said.

Goodnight.

i am not okay

reblog if ur mom is smart and beautiful

I need him in me

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. FOOD FOR ANIMALS .* :☆ﾟ.

✿ Summary: A Compilation of Dating Headcanons Featuring Oliver X Reader

✿ Character(s): Oliver (Threadville)

✿ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

✿ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✿ Image Credits: @Super Skeleton Studio

❀ The first time Oliver realized he liked you was during one of your veggie-pickin’ hangouts. You plucked a tomato with dirt-streaked hands, held it to the sunlight and smiled so proud — and Oliver? He forgot how to speak. The radishes got jealous. “You got a way of makin’ things glow brighter than the sun,” he’d mutter later, kicking at the dirt. “Even tomatoes,” you’d say, nudging him. He turned redder than a boiled beet.

❀ Oliver gets real nervous about gift-giving, but every month he leaves a different wildflower on your windowsill — morning glories, daffodils, clover chains. Once, he left a rock with googly eyes glued to it because “you said you liked silly things”. It’s your favorite gift.

❀ He tries to teach you how to farm, but he gets so flustered when you’re too close. Like, flapping-his-hands-and-dropping-the-watering-can flustered. “O-oh! Your hand’s on mine! Jeepers—! I mean—I don’t mind, I just—WELL DOGGONE IT I CAN’T FOCUS WHEN YOU SMILE LIKE THAT!”

❀ Oliver writes you little love notes, but they’re always hidden. Inside the seed packets. In your jacket pocket. In the breadbox?? One time you found one in the laundry with “SORRY FOR GETTIN’ SOPPY ON YA, I LIKE YOU A WHOLE LOT” written on it. He can’t say it out loud yet. But he means it.

❀ He gets protective in the gentlest ways. Pulls you close when the wind picks up. Offers you his hat when it rains. Stands between you and Veena when she’s being a little too intense. “You’re so nice, it makes my teeth itch,” she grumbles. Oliver just shrugs. “Don’t reckon it costs nothin’ to be kind.”

❀ When you’re sad, Oliver doesn’t always have the words. He’s not great at deep speeches or philosophical comforts. But he’ll sit with you in the fields. Bring pie. Let you cry into his shirt. “We don’t gotta talk. Just let the dirt hold us up today.” It always helps.

❀ He plays the piano for you when he thinks you’re asleep. Soft, twinkly notes drifting through the barn at night. Romcom themes. Little lullabies. The sound of his heart playing itself out, one careful note at a time.

❀ He loves wearing dresses around you, especially on sunny days. One time you complimented how cute he looked and he short-circuited, tripped on a cabbage, and said “Y-you think I’m pretty?!” You do. He still blushes about it.

❀ Oliver can lift heavy things like they’re paper bags, thanks to years of farming. You didn’t expect that. Neither did Veena, who once watched him carry you, two crates of turnips, and a confused chicken across the yard and said “I’m scared. He’s too powerful.”

❀ When he says “I love you” for the first time, it’s quiet. Hesitant. Almost like a secret he’s not sure he’s allowed to share. But when you say it back—when you say it like you mean it—Oliver just melts. “I thought maybe I was too plain for somethin’ as beautiful as you,” he admits. “But if you love me back, then I must be bloom-worthy after all.”

Hello :D May I request some Oliver headcannons with reader from the main story of Threadville? Mostly about reader being an enigma despite looking like a puppet, like being able to crack their fingers or knuckles, swim and spill blood (puppets don’t have bones, get waterlogged if they attempt to swim, and have stuffing). That sort of thing :P

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. WITHIN DIRT, FLESH GROWS .* :☆ﾟ.

✿ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Oliver X Human-Like Puppet Reader

✿ Character(s): Oliver (Threadville)

✿ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

✿ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✿ Image Credits: @supernob12three on X

❀ You cracked your knuckles once in front of him—absentminded, offhand, just a little pop-pop-pop of bone and tension. Oliver dropped his trowel. “Jeepers! Was that your… hands makin’ that sound?” He leaned in, eyes rounder than saucers. “Weren’t no stuffing in there,” he whispered, like the garden weeds might be listening. He didn’t sleep easy that night, wondering what else inside you could bend without snapping.

❀ When you swam across the creek to save a floating turnip basket, he screamed so loud a flock of mourning doves took off. “You’re gonna get soggy! You’re gonna—wait… you’re… floatin’?” You emerged soaked, breathless, not bloated like a sponge left in the rain. Oliver blinked as you rung out your shirt, unwaterlogged. “Huh,” he muttered, holding his straw hat like a lifeline, “You really ain’t built like the rest of us, huh?” He didn’t stop you. But the next time, he followed with floaties and a rope—just in case.

❀ He once saw you bleed. Just a scrape—barely more than a paper cut. But the moment that red welled up, thick and metallic and not thread, Oliver backed up three steps and gasped like he’d seen a ghost. “Th-that ain’t stuffing…” He offered you a napkin, hands shaking like leaves in the wind. “Y-you alright? I didn’t mean to hurt you—oh jeepers—should I get Veena? Or a Band-Aid? Or a priest?”

❀ Veena doesn’t like you. Oliver doesn’t get why. But when he asked, she only said: “You brought something in that doesn’t belong. Something that walks like us but bleeds like something else.” Now when he has tea parties with her, he brings you up a little quieter. But not with any less fondness.

❀ Your laugh sounds different. Not stitched together like the others’. Not cued-up or pre-looped. It starts in your chest and shakes your ribs and comes out full and uneven. Organic. Oliver didn’t know laughter could crack like that— He likes it. He really does. But every now and then, he stares too long. Like he’s wondering if it’s real, or if you’re just really good at pretending.

❀ He tried teaching you how to sew a button one afternoon. You pricked your finger on the needle and bled. A single drop bloomed scarlet on the white thread like a firefly. Oliver stared. “I… I think the button’s cursed now.” You offered to finish it. He said no. He gave you his peanut butter and jelly sandwich as a peace offering. He doesn’t know why he was so scared, but it felt like he pricked something deeper than a finger.

❀ He likes how warm you are. Most folks here are soft and cool to the touch—felt or corduroy or cotton. But when your arm brushes his, he feels skin. He feels heat. He swears you’re like holding a pocketful of summer. And it confuses him—Because puppets don’t keep warmth. So where are you getting it from?

❀ He saw your shadow move when you didn’t. Not in a scary way—just… out of step. You turned your head. The shadow didn’t. Not right away. It caught up a moment later like it had forgotten to. Oliver didn’t mention it. But he pulled his hat lower over his eyes and whispered to himself: “Sun’s playin’ tricks again…” (But it wasn’t sunny.)

❀ You once helped Oliver with the morning harvest. He handed you a spade, not expecting much. Then you hoisted a squash as big as Rocky without so much as a grunt. He gawked. “You’re stronger than Rocky!” When you shrugged and cracked your back with an audible pop, Oliver nearly fainted. He called you “Farmhand of the Future” and gave you an extra slice of rhubarb pie out of sheer, wide-eyed awe.

❀ One evening, after a long day of planting, you two lay back in the field. He looked over at you, drowsy and thoughtful. “You’re real funny, you know that?” “…Funny how?” He squinted up at the stars. “Funny like… you don’t fit here. But not in a bad way. Like you’re somethin’ carved, not sewn. Like maybe you were meant to be here all along… just not made the way the rest of us were.” He smiled. “I think that’s alright, though. You still help the turnips grow just fine.”

reblog if you have skilled writer friends and you're damn proud of them

For once requests are open, could we get a Ken x wife reader??

Pairings -> Ken the Butcher x Wife Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Reader and Ken are together in this

Genre -> Fluff, Headcanons

A/N - Guess who burnt my brothers pizzas... this is why I'm not allowed in the kitchen when I'm sick ;(

KEN

Man you never knew how it would come to this, marrying and being a wife to a Mafia butcher rolting who is part of the smiling dead, well the leader of the smiling dead

Raising a family, a golem son that is made out of bread and a daughter.. (Who is human)

Ken has been the most loyal and trustworthy kind of a guy but with anger issues, a switch in the brain that would make him go mad even the sight of blood on you

He is really protective I mean LIKE REALLY protective

Some days Ken would go out on missions while you take care of the buthershop which he knows that you would handle it pretty well without him there and once he comes back, the whole place is clean and spotless and the cashier is filled with Scarabs which impresses him in the most way

But if you are the one to finish a mission, he would most likely take care of the shop with his family and would sometimes worry for you like he worrys for Mel

I mean you're his WIFE

But you usually come with a whole heap of blood on you which is of course not yours and he immediately falls in love with you over again

He's even more prouder of you as you told him that you got the job done and cleaned the crime, he has taught you well

Ken would mostly spoil you like he spoils his children, I mean YOUr children

He would maybe give you some stuff here and there, maybe a few nice hair accessories, some jewelry like rings or braclets and you would wear them every day and every night

You would literally never take it off and Ken loves that for you

I feel like Ken would be a snorer ANd a heavy sleeper, like imagine one night you are trying to go the bathroom and this man has his arm around your waist and he is gonna be heavy, snoring away as you struggle to get him off of you so you would have to push him away and if that doesn't work then maybe give a hit or two that would surely wake him up

I would also feel like Ken would be the type to go for sweet like ladies that would turn aggressive if someone messes with their family

Like Sweet but crazy kind

Overall Ken is just a sweetheart that just has anger issues sometimes meaning that you two argue a lot, time when it happens on missions, maybe that you want to do something but Ken is saying no because it's too "dangerous"

Oh you can show him dangerous

But it would end up him apologizing for being wrong and that you were tougher than he thinks

But you apologize too to him which makes it equal

You just love to be apart of this family

-A<3