Hello! I just wanted to pop back in to say thank you all for joining us for our Q&A both last weekend and on Sunday! It was a lot of fun and although we couldn't get to all of you, your sentiments were so kind and I'm so happy you were eager to know so much about this home!
This week will be our final week for the Welcome Home Web Shop ( https://welcomehome.shop/ ) as it will close on May 10th at 11:59 PM PST! So mind my occasional push this week as I share gifs and photos promoting these little guys a little further before I disappear!
Thank you all so much again!
a nice 2.2k words and considerably fluffy, i'd feel! just you getting home from the store and doing laundry with daydream
this is a long one, written for @sockonaleash and @amethystapple - though, it was a lot longer than i had expected to write! this one will be under the cut as not to take up so much space unless you do wish to read it :)
You set down your groceries and fumble with the keys to your apartment.
Thankfully, you don’t drop them. Your hands aren’t that sweaty enough for them to slip from your fingers, even with all the carefulness you could muster. The sweltering heat is beginning to calm down, easing into a more tolerable weather. Walking outside for a few minutes—to the nearest grocery store, no less—no longer makes your back awfully damp, which you are thankful for.
You are somewhat out of breath, and you know that you have to walk more, as you make you rest against the door for a bit. You manage to press your key into the lock and jiggle it to make sure it’s fully inside. There, you turn it and push the door open, stepping back to snag your fingers on the plastic bag of the groceries before you make your way inside. None of it is heavy, it is only the weight of the vegetables you finally promised yourself to buy sitting at the bottom of it, as well as the other meats you reluctantly added.
Well, you bought it for Daydream.
She wouldn’t stop fussing about your eating habits. As much as you wanted to eat the same few foods over and over again, she insisted on having a variety of foods. Something about nutrients. You were paying attention, really! It’s just a bit hard to focus on that when Daydream’s right there, worrying over you. It’s the sort of attention that you find yourself indulging in, and that’s how she convinced you to even go and buy groceries.
Speaking of the lovely animatronic himself, a few soft steps could be heard from inside. His shoes were placed neatly by the side of the door, so as to “not track dirt inside of the house” though he rarely went outside. You usually would have him accompany you, but this was a quick trip that you had been putting off after you caved into Daydream’s suggestions. Now that it’s finally over with, you shove off your shoes by the heels so that you don’t have to untie the laces, and nudge them with your socks so that they’re next to Daydream’s shoes.
“My dearest, welcome home,” he greeted, bowing only his head. You had to break him out of the habit of doing one of those full-body bows, which was too much and too formal for someone like you. You wanted to be close to him, and breaking those habits was one of the first ideas you had to make him feel more comfortable. Anything to do to make him understand that this place was safe for him. Bowing his head was alright, for now.
You might be smitten with him. And, well, Daydream certainly is with you as he pulls himself out of his bow to come slightly closer. His mouth, or more so his teeth, press against your forehead.
The kiss doesn’t catch you off guard, although you do pause to savor the soft gesture. He’s been doing it in the past few weeks and you’re sure that every time you look up at him, something in his expression is more cheeky. It’s clear that he relishes in your reaction, and he gently takes the plastic bags in your hands while you’re looking at him distractedly.
His eyes light up a little, or you think they do. You want to save up so that you can buy him some new features to make him expressive. It’s something he hasn’t told you outright, but you’ve sometimes seen him stare in the mirror and trace his hands over his face. You have seen the way that his fingers ghost his own mouth through a crack in the door, and the unmistakable yearning that no one—let alone animatronics—should have to suffer through.
It makes you want to do more for him.
Daydream pulls you out of your reverie with a noise of approval, something he must have picked up around the humans of his past.
(You would say owners, but then it’d lump you in with them, and something like guilt has its clutches on your heart and squeezes tightly. You don’t want to own Daydream. You want him to be himself.)
The bluish purple moon’s hands were taking out the vegetables, gracefully taking out the bag of potatoes to move them into the fridge with ease. While you didn’t struggle too much with carrying them, you’re sure that it must be quite light for the animatronic. “My sweet star, you bought what I asked you to,” he murmured, a pleased look gracing his features.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” you manage to say. Your throat feels oddly dry in her presence.
His eyes flickered to yours, as if to make sure you were looking at him, and you cannot help it as his gaze pulled you in. It is most likely because of the smile she sends your way; while it is her default expression, something about this one seems softer and more genuine. Your eyes linger on his faceplate, and certainly his mouth, although you are far too embarrassed about it. Even then, you notice he is certainly appreciative that you are listening to his suggestions. You stare long after he looks away, putting the food in their respective places.
Daydream isn’t looking at you while he asks his next question, neatly storing some carrots and what looks like cauliflower, and it makes you want to pull him away from his task. You don’t. “How was your trip to the store? Do you feel more comfortable going by yourself, my sweet?”
This is his way of checking in on you, and you’re fond of it. But, it is the store, of all things: unremarkable and nerve wracking for you at the same time.
“Yeah… yeah,” you say, and any other words die on your lips. You want to say more.
In the quiet that stretches after your response, you move closer to watch her movements. Practiced, but relaxed. It was no longer like a taut string, like the first few times she helped to restock the fridge. That’s when you notice that the dryer you had been running from over an hour ago, and surely was still running when you left home, had gone silent.
You almost considered waiting for the animatronic to finish, but the quietness was getting to you and turning on some music wouldn’t be necessary—at least for this task. “Daydream, did you take my… uh, our clothes, out of the dryer?” you ask.
He’s not looking at you, still focused on his task. Even then, you know you have his attention.
“Yes, I did, my dear,” he answered, putting the last of the groceries into the fridge. He folds the plastic bag and walks over to open the cabinet door under the kitchen sink, putting it there neatly. You know that he has quite the organized set up, and you’ll look in it later to get a good grasp of what he put where. He does all of these things that he doesn’t have to and, while you’re happy about not having to do them, it’s the fact that it’s Daydream doing it that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.
You’re not sure when he glanced at your direction, but you stop biting as Daydream sends you a look of disapproval. He knows what you’re doing, and he’s scolded you a few times for picking at the skin of your nails. Harmful habits that he wants you to get rid of. It feels hypocritical, when you’re trying to stop his. “You know you didn’t have to do that, right?”
Her head swivels toward you, a faint jingle of her hat following the action.
She stands upright, hands clasped a little. “It is only right if I do so,” she says, and you know you’ve had this conversation with her several times over. You’ve insisted again and again that she doesn’t have to, and you’ve seen him make some progress in not doing every single chore you can think of, but this seems to be one of the few things that he refuses to let go of. “Taking the laundry out of the dryer is simple.”
You’re going to have to come up with another approach. Since asking her to stop hasn’t fully worked, since it’s not detrimental to either of you, you need to work around it instead. You lean against the counter in thought.
“You know, we should fold our clothes together,” you try, and the animatronic’s eyes bore into yours. It feels ridiculous that you have to fight to fold your own clothes.
“You do not have to if you do not wish to.” Daydream has a curious lilt in his voice.
“Well, I asked. Well, offered to. It’s something that I want to do.”
“Folding clothes is simple, and it would be more efficient for me to do it alone. You can use your time for something else.”
You don’t want to get frustrated with her, and this is such a small thing. You sigh, refusing to resign yourself to her words. “Daydream, I want to fold clothes with you. Please.” You struggle to come up with something, and your fingers tap against the counter as you try to reign yourself in. “I want to spend time with you. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want to. I’m not doing this just to be polite. So, can I please please fold clothes with you?”
These sorts of things are not something you want to get angry with her for, even if you have to beg her a little. She must have been impacted by her past experiences, or coded to act this way, or both—something along those lines. You don’t want to pry.
She looks you over, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of your tapping and the way you hold yourself. She wipes away whatever expression she has on her face, seemingly relenting now and nodding a little without a word. You can only hope that she knows you’re not in any way mad with her. Why would you be? You don’t normally get angry over things like this.
“C’mon, let’s go fold clothes together. Where are they?” You push yourself off the counter, and you watch as he briskly moves to your side.
Daydream’s eyes flick to yours. “In your room, as a majority of them are yours. They are still in the hamper. I was going to fold them before you returned, little wishing star, but you came sooner than I expected,” he answers as the two of you begin to make your way to your room.
“I wanted to get home quickly to see you,” you remark, and you can see the way her smile ticks upward every so slightly.
The two of you walk to your room, and she soon follows behind you. You move out of the way once you’re inside of your room, and there you can see the hamper that you’ve been using to collect all of your clothes. Daydream is already near the hamper, and you can tell that she’s more than likely going to sit on a chair and just fold the clothes from there. That won’t do, especially since the clothes are fresh out of the dryer.
You quickly take the sides of the hamper and dump it onto your bed before she even has the chance to pick up one article of clothing.
Impulsivity hits you and you end up crawling right on top of all the warm clothes. It smells like the laundry detergent you use, a refreshing and soft smell that makes you happy that you buy that specific brand of detergent. You’re sure it was lavender, but what you’re more focused on is the warmth of the pile. While it smells great and all, the heat of the clothes makes you want to laze around like a cat in the sunlight.
“Is this your way of helping, darling?” he leans down to ask, voice lower. He’s smiling again, another one of those genuine smiles, and you can tell that he’s downright amused by you. You’re glad that he feels safe enough to feel like that.
“Yeah, yeah it is.”
She moves to sit next to the pile of clothes on the bed, her dress ruffling a little as she does so, and you’re still sprawled all over on the pile of clothes. You can see how close she is to you, and her smile becomes something a lot smaller and softer. The way she leans in to you isn’t something you’re expecting, and it feels a lot more intimate. It’s as if she was about to tell you a secret she’s told no one else.
You move to sit up a little on your horde of clothing, head lifting. “Daydream?”
He shushes you and moves his faceplate right against your cheek. Another kiss of his, but this time it feels different. You can feel the plastic of his teeth and the silicone parts of his face against your skin. One of his hands reaches up to hold your head to keep it in place, and your ears vaguely register a faint buzz.
“Thank you for helping me with the laundry then, my fantasy.”
a nice 2.2k words and considerably fluffy, i'd feel! just you getting home from the store and doing laundry with daydream
this is a long one, written for @sockonaleash and @amethystapple - though, it was a lot longer than i had expected to write! this one will be under the cut as not to take up so much space unless you do wish to read it :)
You set down your groceries and fumble with the keys to your apartment.
Thankfully, you don’t drop them. Your hands aren’t that sweaty enough for them to slip from your fingers, even with all the carefulness you could muster. The sweltering heat is beginning to calm down, easing into a more tolerable weather. Walking outside for a few minutes—to the nearest grocery store, no less—no longer makes your back awfully damp, which you are thankful for.
You are somewhat out of breath, and you know that you have to walk more, as you make you rest against the door for a bit. You manage to press your key into the lock and jiggle it to make sure it’s fully inside. There, you turn it and push the door open, stepping back to snag your fingers on the plastic bag of the groceries before you make your way inside. None of it is heavy, it is only the weight of the vegetables you finally promised yourself to buy sitting at the bottom of it, as well as the other meats you reluctantly added.
Well, you bought it for Daydream.
She wouldn’t stop fussing about your eating habits. As much as you wanted to eat the same few foods over and over again, she insisted on having a variety of foods. Something about nutrients. You were paying attention, really! It’s just a bit hard to focus on that when Daydream’s right there, worrying over you. It’s the sort of attention that you find yourself indulging in, and that’s how she convinced you to even go and buy groceries.
Speaking of the lovely animatronic himself, a few soft steps could be heard from inside. His shoes were placed neatly by the side of the door, so as to “not track dirt inside of the house” though he rarely went outside. You usually would have him accompany you, but this was a quick trip that you had been putting off after you caved into Daydream’s suggestions. Now that it’s finally over with, you shove off your shoes by the heels so that you don’t have to untie the laces, and nudge them with your socks so that they’re next to Daydream’s shoes.
“My dearest, welcome home,” he greeted, bowing only his head. You had to break him out of the habit of doing one of those full-body bows, which was too much and too formal for someone like you. You wanted to be close to him, and breaking those habits was one of the first ideas you had to make him feel more comfortable. Anything to do to make him understand that this place was safe for him. Bowing his head was alright, for now.
You might be smitten with him. And, well, Daydream certainly is with you as he pulls himself out of his bow to come slightly closer. His mouth, or more so his teeth, press against your forehead.
The kiss doesn’t catch you off guard, although you do pause to savor the soft gesture. He’s been doing it in the past few weeks and you’re sure that every time you look up at him, something in his expression is more cheeky. It’s clear that he relishes in your reaction, and he gently takes the plastic bags in your hands while you’re looking at him distractedly.
His eyes light up a little, or you think they do. You want to save up so that you can buy him some new features to make him expressive. It’s something he hasn’t told you outright, but you’ve sometimes seen him stare in the mirror and trace his hands over his face. You have seen the way that his fingers ghost his own mouth through a crack in the door, and the unmistakable yearning that no one—let alone animatronics—should have to suffer through.
It makes you want to do more for him.
Daydream pulls you out of your reverie with a noise of approval, something he must have picked up around the humans of his past.
(You would say owners, but then it’d lump you in with them, and something like guilt has its clutches on your heart and squeezes tightly. You don’t want to own Daydream. You want him to be himself.)
The bluish purple moon’s hands were taking out the vegetables, gracefully taking out the bag of potatoes to move them into the fridge with ease. While you didn’t struggle too much with carrying them, you’re sure that it must be quite light for the animatronic. “My sweet star, you bought what I asked you to,” he murmured, a pleased look gracing his features.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” you manage to say. Your throat feels oddly dry in her presence.
His eyes flickered to yours, as if to make sure you were looking at him, and you cannot help it as his gaze pulled you in. It is most likely because of the smile she sends your way; while it is her default expression, something about this one seems softer and more genuine. Your eyes linger on his faceplate, and certainly his mouth, although you are far too embarrassed about it. Even then, you notice he is certainly appreciative that you are listening to his suggestions. You stare long after he looks away, putting the food in their respective places.
Daydream isn’t looking at you while he asks his next question, neatly storing some carrots and what looks like cauliflower, and it makes you want to pull him away from his task. You don’t. “How was your trip to the store? Do you feel more comfortable going by yourself, my sweet?”
This is his way of checking in on you, and you’re fond of it. But, it is the store, of all things: unremarkable and nerve wracking for you at the same time.
“Yeah… yeah,” you say, and any other words die on your lips. You want to say more.
In the quiet that stretches after your response, you move closer to watch her movements. Practiced, but relaxed. It was no longer like a taut string, like the first few times she helped to restock the fridge. That’s when you notice that the dryer you had been running from over an hour ago, and surely was still running when you left home, had gone silent.
You almost considered waiting for the animatronic to finish, but the quietness was getting to you and turning on some music wouldn’t be necessary—at least for this task. “Daydream, did you take my… uh, our clothes, out of the dryer?” you ask.
He’s not looking at you, still focused on his task. Even then, you know you have his attention.
“Yes, I did, my dear,” he answered, putting the last of the groceries into the fridge. He folds the plastic bag and walks over to open the cabinet door under the kitchen sink, putting it there neatly. You know that he has quite the organized set up, and you’ll look in it later to get a good grasp of what he put where. He does all of these things that he doesn’t have to and, while you’re happy about not having to do them, it’s the fact that it’s Daydream doing it that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.
You’re not sure when he glanced at your direction, but you stop biting as Daydream sends you a look of disapproval. He knows what you’re doing, and he’s scolded you a few times for picking at the skin of your nails. Harmful habits that he wants you to get rid of. It feels hypocritical, when you’re trying to stop his. “You know you didn’t have to do that, right?”
Her head swivels toward you, a faint jingle of her hat following the action.
She stands upright, hands clasped a little. “It is only right if I do so,” she says, and you know you’ve had this conversation with her several times over. You’ve insisted again and again that she doesn’t have to, and you’ve seen him make some progress in not doing every single chore you can think of, but this seems to be one of the few things that he refuses to let go of. “Taking the laundry out of the dryer is simple.”
You’re going to have to come up with another approach. Since asking her to stop hasn’t fully worked, since it’s not detrimental to either of you, you need to work around it instead. You lean against the counter in thought.
“You know, we should fold our clothes together,” you try, and the animatronic’s eyes bore into yours. It feels ridiculous that you have to fight to fold your own clothes.
“You do not have to if you do not wish to.” Daydream has a curious lilt in his voice.
“Well, I asked. Well, offered to. It’s something that I want to do.”
“Folding clothes is simple, and it would be more efficient for me to do it alone. You can use your time for something else.”
You don’t want to get frustrated with her, and this is such a small thing. You sigh, refusing to resign yourself to her words. “Daydream, I want to fold clothes with you. Please.” You struggle to come up with something, and your fingers tap against the counter as you try to reign yourself in. “I want to spend time with you. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want to. I’m not doing this just to be polite. So, can I please please fold clothes with you?”
These sorts of things are not something you want to get angry with her for, even if you have to beg her a little. She must have been impacted by her past experiences, or coded to act this way, or both—something along those lines. You don’t want to pry.
She looks you over, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of your tapping and the way you hold yourself. She wipes away whatever expression she has on her face, seemingly relenting now and nodding a little without a word. You can only hope that she knows you’re not in any way mad with her. Why would you be? You don’t normally get angry over things like this.
“C’mon, let’s go fold clothes together. Where are they?” You push yourself off the counter, and you watch as he briskly moves to your side.
Daydream’s eyes flick to yours. “In your room, as a majority of them are yours. They are still in the hamper. I was going to fold them before you returned, little wishing star, but you came sooner than I expected,” he answers as the two of you begin to make your way to your room.
“I wanted to get home quickly to see you,” you remark, and you can see the way her smile ticks upward every so slightly.
The two of you walk to your room, and she soon follows behind you. You move out of the way once you’re inside of your room, and there you can see the hamper that you’ve been using to collect all of your clothes. Daydream is already near the hamper, and you can tell that she’s more than likely going to sit on a chair and just fold the clothes from there. That won’t do, especially since the clothes are fresh out of the dryer.
You quickly take the sides of the hamper and dump it onto your bed before she even has the chance to pick up one article of clothing.
Impulsivity hits you and you end up crawling right on top of all the warm clothes. It smells like the laundry detergent you use, a refreshing and soft smell that makes you happy that you buy that specific brand of detergent. You’re sure it was lavender, but what you’re more focused on is the warmth of the pile. While it smells great and all, the heat of the clothes makes you want to laze around like a cat in the sunlight.
“Is this your way of helping, darling?” he leans down to ask, voice lower. He’s smiling again, another one of those genuine smiles, and you can tell that he’s downright amused by you. You’re glad that he feels safe enough to feel like that.
“Yeah, yeah it is.”
She moves to sit next to the pile of clothes on the bed, her dress ruffling a little as she does so, and you’re still sprawled all over on the pile of clothes. You can see how close she is to you, and her smile becomes something a lot smaller and softer. The way she leans in to you isn’t something you’re expecting, and it feels a lot more intimate. It’s as if she was about to tell you a secret she’s told no one else.
You move to sit up a little on your horde of clothing, head lifting. “Daydream?”
He shushes you and moves his faceplate right against your cheek. Another kiss of his, but this time it feels different. You can feel the plastic of his teeth and the silicone parts of his face against your skin. One of his hands reaches up to hold your head to keep it in place, and your ears vaguely register a faint buzz.
“Thank you for helping me with the laundry then, my fantasy.”
@notglue9m has an AU on Twitter and TikTok called “Mourning and Mending” and I made this inspired off one of the scenes! I made it with the Rivals FNF Mod in mind, Catfight!
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