#NeighborlyNotes

[angelfoodcake222]

So, I've seen a lot of self-inserts & OCs as stylists, seamstresses & the like, but not a lot of other jobs 🤔. I can't decide what job to give my "The Lesser of Two Evils" [Y/N], so y'all can take your pick here. If I hadn't listed anything or you think a different job would suit you, please comment the career of your choosing below. Please be respectful.

A/N: No, being a character's wife/husband/spouse does not count as a job.

These are all of the useful ones I can think of & what Tumblr will let me post at the moment. Some of these would be an instant route to angst, I know it, but some dark stuff could be hiding in most of these too.

Likes are nice, comments are appreciated, but reblogs are better. Thank you!

[angelfoodcake222]

💌 💛 Xanthophilia 💛 💌

Xanthophilia: the love of the color yellow.

Gif by @bee-stim

Tw[Trigger warning]: you goofed, bad/decent poetry, fluff, scopophobia, (possible) head injury, simp stuff. Enjoy.

🌕The story starts with a 3rd person's view peering past the window leading into a puppet's (most likely Y/N's) office as they frantically &/or cartoonishly searches for the note they thought they had put away to revise it into a less sappy, mawkish, schmaltzy confession of their feelings for the star of the show in favor of writing as more of a note to show their appreciation for his appearance in the shows, offering to design his next suit to fit his seemingly snazzy essence. Maybe something in a fetchingly robust red?

🌕Wally gets a note [accidentally] sent by his semi-new neighbor, Y/N the stylist/seamstress, after it gets mixed up with other things in their messy home office.

🌕When he opens the pristine red heart stamped, white envelope he finds something to the effects of a love letter complete with a lightly perfumed (not intentionally, just cast off from when you were getting dressed near your desk & the episode you were written into called for you & Wally to be near each other)piece of salmon pink paper filled with rich blue ink scribbles that open with "To My Most Darling, Fabulous Neighbor," before he stood stock still beside his open window to read on. His unblinking eyes read this (or something like it):

I cannot help but swoon when I see you wearing any one of my designs. It makes my little heart throng when I see you happily going about your life with the clothes I tailored for you & how your honeybee fleece makes it look as though you were the sun himself put into a tangible form. An incarnation of bright, beautifully blue-topped chef-d'oeuvre Pablo Picasso, Peter D. Jaquish, or even Leonardo da Vince could so much as dream of bringing to spontaneous life. Andy Warhol hasn't a prayer in recreating the honorific hues you iconically carry with your pools of opalescent snowfall glistening like freshly fallen snow with a pair of priceless black pearls that bring an incomprehensible level of depths to them.

If your lulling voice & genteel demeanor were not enough, your eyes draw me further & deeper into these profound feelings I've been pushing down for countless convoluted reasons that I cannot put into words. I hope to make a garb that finally brings worthy wearability to your form & its near-otherworldly resplendence. Possibly make you a line of Red Deliciousness & Pink Ladies for myself, if it's not too much, of course. Maybe swap makeup & hair tips or you could show me how you do such majestic work in such brief windows before the cameras come on.

With love & awaiting skill, Y/N.

🌕Wally is stuck in place, rereading the besotted epistolary in his hands as the words take him some time to grasp. He even asked home to pass him the dictionary from the top of his bookshelf to translate many of the words just to boil it down to its writer being, for lack of better words, "wally, wally, blood & dolly" for him.

🌕He sat in his plush chair, rereading the confession with a new understanding of what Y/N had composed, now transcribed to his understanding.

🌕He barely heard the frantic knocking upon Home's door & Home rocking his chair to snap him out of the hypnosis.

🌕When he does pull through & opens the door, there stood Barnaby with an excited yet curious look on his face.

🌕While Barnaby was getting a hot dog from Howdy with Eddie & Frank picking out ingredients for something related to jelly, Y/N skids in & make a B-line for Eddie, asking if he had delivered any mail from their house to Home that day.

🌕Eddie checks his notes & confirms their hectic question, noting the "very pretty thing holding it shut so nicely" that he could not bear to stuff it into his bag, therefore packing it mindfully in hand to Wally's dwelling.

🌕Y/N's face turns a few shades darker before they fall back into the apple display & causing everyone concern, especially Julie & Poppy who had just walked in not even a split second before it happened.

🌕Barnaby ran to Home, grabbed Wally & brought him to Howdy's where everyone else gathered to check on their friend laying amongst the ripe red fruit scattered about, especially Poppy who told everyone to step back & give the stylist/tailor some room while she tended to them.

🌕He thought back to the letter he had tucked into his cardigan pocket instinctively while Barnaby dashed him to the store & reflected on the decadent words you utilized in writing such a thing. This was followed by him piecing together what had happened.

🌕He, Poppy & Barnaby helped Y/N back to their home & tucked them into bed.

🌕Barnaby & Poppy went all about their neighbor's home looking for things to ease their probable headache after their fall while Wally sits at the same-sized puppet's bedside, quietly watching them rest their lovely, lettered mind. Unable to push that poem from his mind.

🌕While Poppy tended to Y/N's head & Barnaby grabbed some additional pillows from their closet, Wally continued to watch you (a character trait the two bigger puppets were used to, so they didn't notice it.

💛He had never fallen so hard before & he doubts he ever will for anyone else ever again.

[angelfoodcake222]

Okay. Time for a question that I'd love the answer or an explanation to: Why is everyone liking & reblogging my Thank You posts, phobia idea & feline Wally HC way more than the things I actually took a fair chunk of time to write & put more planning into?

Did my writing just not hit the right cord?

Is my diction or writing style off-putting?

Please tell me something; I'm so confused...

[angelfoodcake222]

& the results are... *peeks over glasses* Florist!

I was honestly expecting to break out my old psychology books or start researching sweet recipes, but your wonderful lovelies chose something I'm nearly fluent at! Thank you for voting & I'll get the next chapter out ASAP! Bye!

So, I've seen a lot of self-inserts & OCs as stylists, seamstresses & the like, but not a lot of other jobs 🤔. I can't decide what job to give my "The Lesser of Two Evils" [Y/N], so y'all can take your pick here. If I hadn't listed anything or you think a different job would suit you, please comment the career of your choosing below. Please be respectful.

A/N: No, being a character's wife/husband/spouse does not count as a job.

These are all of the useful ones I can think of & what Tumblr will let me post at the moment. Some of these would be an instant route to angst, I know it, but some dark stuff could be hiding in most of these too.

Likes are nice, comments are appreciated, but reblogs are better. Thank you!