📺Silly Tv📺

and tell me what you think and if I should continue!

The reader is gender-neutral in this fanfic!

CHAPTER I

"Welcome to Threadville"

"Yeah, Grandma, I'm gonna find it," Y/N said as they began climbing up into the attic. "Where's that stupid sewing machine? Come on, where are you hiding?"

They glanced around and muttered, "So many boxes... This is insane. What even is in all of these?"

After thirty minutes of searching, they finally spotted the machine on the top shelf. "Better take this back to—"

BANG!

"THE HELL?! What even was that?" they said, turning toward a large shape under a draped fabric. Pulling the cloth down, they blinked. "A... mirror?"

"Hmm, what a pretty mirror. Why is it even up here? Maybe Grandma will let me have it."

As they reached out to dust it off, the mirror suddenly began to glow.

"Wait. WAIT. WAIT, WHAT EVEN IS THIS?! HELLO?! NUH UH—IT’S SUCKING ME IN! GRANDMA—!"

Everything went blank.

Oliver and Veena were enjoying a hot cup of tea near the bee area.

"I'm so happy my crops are turning out better every year. Sometimes it’s a bit hard to manage alone, but they’ve grown beautifully!" Oliver said, a silly smile on his face.

Veena, on the other hand, was already a little cranky.

"Ugh, Rocky hasn’t moved from that spot in ages, and he’s been acting weird lately, especially with those night time crazy episodes. Is it just me, or did you notice it too?"

Oliver nodded, his expression shifting to concern.

"I’ve noticed... but when I ask, he just goes back to fishing. We’ll figure out what’s going on someday, I promise— what is that?"

They both looked up—and saw something, or more precisely, someone, falling out of a hole in the sky. They quickly stepped out of the way.

"Fuck, man, that hurts," Y/N groaned, rubbing their head. As they opened their eyes, two figures stood in front of them.

"...You ruined my table," Veena muttered.

"I'm so sorry—one minute I was in my grandma's attic, a mirror sucked me up, and now I'm here... Where is here?"

"Welcome to Threadville!" Oliver said with a smile. "But we should probably figure out how you ended up here. Let’s head into town—oh, wait. Rocky’s at the exit. We’ll need to get some honey for him as a peace offering."

"Ugh, the bees are already mad we took honey for our tea today," Veena exclaimed.

"I’ll do it," Y/N offered. "It’s the least I can do after destroying your table."

"Thank you kindly... uh, what’s your name?"

"Y/N," they said, putting their hands on their hips.

"I’m Oliver, and this is Veena. And as you probably heard, the guy napping over there is Rocky. He’s a bit tense, but he’s a sweetheart."

Getting the honey was not a task for the weak. The bees swarmed all around the maze, making it tricky to avoid them—but somehow, Y/N managed to grab the honey. The group made their way toward Rocky.

"I’m so sorry to wake you up," Oliver said gently, "but our new friend here needs to get into town. Can you kindly move? We brought you honey."

"Oh, no problem, Oliver. Sorry for blocking the path," Rocky said, taking the jar from his hands. "Here—let me walk you all into town."

When they arrived, Rocky and Veena split off to go talk to Patty, while Oliver wandered into a little garden patch to check on his radishes.

"Hey Oliver, need some help over there?" Y/N asked.

"Oh no, no, I was just checking to see if there’s a worm. He’s been giving me trouble—keeps eating my plants."

"Ugh, maybe you can give the worm a vegetable every time you grow new ones? Like a little offering? So he munches on that instead of everything else?"

"Oh, believe me—I tried that. He wants to cause trouble."

"What a little maniac."

Patty’s house was tucked between a yarn-dyed shop and a building that looked suspiciously like a giant bubble. It smelled like lavender, cinnamon, and old buttons.

Inside, Veena leaned on the wall while Rocky stood awkwardly by the door, holding what was left of his honey jar.

Patty—mid-40s, power stance, brushing her hair—eyed Y/N as they walked in with Oliver.

Oliver slowed his pace. “Hey, you’ve been super calm for someone who just got sucked in a antique mirror.”

Y/N let out a breath and laughed weakly. “Honestly? I think I’m still in shock. Or maybe Threadville’s so weird it’s distracting me.”

Just then, a squirrel in a sweater darted across the window carrying what looked like… a crochet hook?

Oliver said with a sweet smile “Yeah, give it a day. You’ll fit right in.”

“Ah,” Patty said slowly, tapping the brush against her chin. “You’re the one who fell.”

Y/N blinked. “People just… know that?”

“Threadville’s small. You sneeze and the fabric trees echo it by lunch,” she said. “Also, there’s a sky-rip above the forest. Not subtle.”

"Can you help me get back to... my world?"

"Mmm, maybe. Maybe not. I’ve never heard of this kind of mess before, but we’ll give it a shot. In the meantime, I’m rolling out a sleeping bag for you, ‘cause it’s late, I need my beauty sleep, and tomorrow’s gonna be weird enough without me looking like a mess. We’ll talk more in the morning. Nighty night!" Patty said as she headed upstairs.

Everyone went their way as nightfall crept into Threadville, the sky stitched with silver stars and a crescent moon shaped like a bent thimble. Y/N tossed in their sleeping bag, trying to find a comfortable position.

They’d almost started dozing off when—

CRASH.

THUD.

Y/N shot upright. "what the—”

Outside, loud stomps... a flower pot fell off the windowsill. Somewhere in the distance, a sheep screamed.

Veena burst through the door, hair wild, holding a tote-bag. “He’s SNAPPIN’. Rocky’s having a NIGHT-TIME EPISODE. It’s happening again!!”

"WHAT, IS HE GOING TO END US ALL, IS HE GOING TO EAT US!?" Y/N started to scream dramatically.

"No silly, he's just on a rampage from time to time, even tho the last episode he has ended up with a few broken ribs for Oliver, we just need to try and calm him down" Patty said as she walked down the stairs, tying a robe around her waist.

"ok, so how do you plan to calm him down this time?"

Patty shrugged, unfazed, as another loud BANG echoed from the valley. “We throw yarn at him until he finishes his episode.”

“THAT’S the plan!?” Y/N shouted. “Y’all don’t have a bat or like—tranquilizer cupcakes or something?!”

Veena was already stuffing colorful yarn balls into a tote bag like a baseball pitcher preparing for war. “Nope. We improvise. And also—cupcakes are for after.”

Patty pointed dramatically. “To the Craft Plaza!"

Outside, Rocky was stomping around with one eye popped out of its socket. He howled, swinging a garden gnome like a club.

Y/N ducked behind a barrel. “What in the Looney Tunes is this man’s problem?!”

Oliver appeared from behind a bush, hair messy holding his hat to his chest. “Okay, okay, I have a plan. It’s dumb. But it worked once before.”

“Does it involve getting body-slammed?” Y/N asked flatly.

“No,” Oliver said. “Well—a little. But listen, we need to lure Rocky to my barn, Veena and Patty are going to make nets so there and we can trap him, so who's going to get chased by him?"

Everyone was silent... silently looking at Y/N. "No, nuh uh, not in a million years am I going to be chased, MAYBE AND MOST LIKELY, to my death by that."

Everyone went to the barn to secure the net to some trees around the area, while Y/N was chased down by none other than Rocky.

Y/N ran like their life depended on it, because it kind of did.

“THIS IS SO STUPID!” they screamed, dodging the gnome Rocky picked up. “I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE!”

“RUN FASTER!” Veena shouted from the treetops, holding two balls of yarn like twin grenades. “We’re almost ready!”

“DEFINE ALMOST—AAAAHH!”

Y/N’s lungs were on fire.

“WHY IS HE SO FAST?!” they screamed, ducking as Rocky hurled a mailbox like it weighed nothing. “HE’S BUILT LIKE A TRUCK BUT RUNS LIKE A MOTORCYCLE!”

From behind a tree, Oliver yelled, “Just a little farther! You’re doing amazing!”

“THAT’S EASY FOR YOU TO SAY, YOU’RE NOT BEING HUNTED!”

Y/N turned the corner, Oliver waving like a crazy man. “Through the laundry lines! Trust me!”

Y/N dove under a row of floral bedsheets, accidentally getting slapped in the face by someone’s polka-dot bloomers.

"THIS IS THE MOST CARTOONISH EVENT THAT CAN EVER HAPPEN RIGHT NOW AND I AM NOT OK WITH IT"

As Y/N tried to take the bloomers of their face, Rocky caught up to them. Slowing down, breathing hard, staring right in their eyes...

"You better look at me with BOTH eyes is you want to chase me like a lunatic, yeah, yeah GET THAT EYE BACK IN YO SOCKET"

Rocky was dumbfounded, mouth open, picking up his eye, putting it back where it belongs.

BOING.

Veena and Patty dropped the net.

Silence.

Y/N flopped to the grass, gasping. “I. Am suing. All of you. Emotionally.”

“Congrats. You just survived your first Threadville Rampage.” Patty said with a proud smile.

“Next time,” Y/N wheezed, “I’m leading the cupcake party.”

“Next time?” Oliver grinned. “So you’re staying?”

Y/N remained silent, looking up at the stars.

Oliver ran over and knelt beside them. “In any case, you did it. We did it.”

“I want a medal and a juice box.”

He laughed—soft and warm—and reached into his satchel. “Okay, it's no medal, but… I brought this.”

He held out a tiny packet of strawberry candies. The old-lady kind that were wrapped to look like actual strawberries.

Y/N stared at him, chest still rising and falling from the run. “Candy?”

“I panicked and grabbed the first thing I saw in Patty’s kitchen,” Oliver said, offering one with a sheepish smile. “Thought you deserved something sweet.”

Y/N blinked, then took the candy, their fingers brushing his. “Thanks… That was actually kind of sweet.”

Life update: I kinda like Call of Duty a bit too much, sometimes when I take a break from learning I play some cod, and NOT GONNA LIE I HAVE A FEW FIC IDEAS, and might start writing about that as well!!!!

"Purple flower"

OLIVER X READER

Everyone went to bed that night with the sweet, sweet knowledge that Rocky had finally calmed down and wasn’t about to yeet anyone across the village again... peaceful night.

In the morning, Patty was the first one up, checking on Charlotte and Y/N like a mom on patrol, then casually brewing herself a strong cup of coffee before stepping onto her porch like a queen greeting her kingdom, soaking in those natural vitamins like they were custom-made for her.

“Ugh... morning, Patty…” Y/N groaned, appearing in the doorway of the porch like a ghost freshly risen from the dead. “That was a night I won’t forget anytime soon—or my legs.” They winced, rubbing the side of their thigh dramatically.

Patty gave them a sideways grin, sipping her coffee. “Sweetheart, you handled that like an absolute champion. I would’ve faked a faint halfway through.”

In the distance, Oliver and Veena came strolling up toward the purple house—Oliver with a basket full of goodies, and Veena proudly holding what looked like a questionable jar. Apparently, she had invented a new kind of tea... again.

And with the sun rising over Threadville, chaos slowly transformed back into cozy.

Veena was the first to reach the porch. “BEHOLD,” she announced, holding up the jar like it was the Holy Grail. “Chamomile–peppermint–raspberry fusion. I call it Veena’s Wake-Up Punch.”

“It better not punch me like Rocky did,” Y/N mumbled.

“Oh please,” Veena said with a wink, “you should be thankful you’re still in one piece.”

Oliver followed close behind, looking slightly too put together for someone who got chased by a gnome-wielding beast five hours ago. He held out the basket with a sheepish grin. “Figured you earned breakfast. Made the muffins myself.”

Oliver nudged his hat back on his head and gave Y/N a crooked smile. “Hey… wanna see the farm? Like, the real part. Not the chaos barn or the haunted compost bin.”

Y/N raised a brow. “You have a haunted compost bin?”

“Technically, no. Emotionally? Yes.”

They both laughed, and just like that, the tension melted into something easier. softer.

He led Y/N along a winding dirt path behind the barn, the earth still dewy underfoot. The morning sun stretched lazy golden rays over the fields, painting everything in a warm glow. Birds chirped and bees buzzed like tiny motors.

“This is where I grow the herbs,” Oliver said, waving a hand to a row of neatly trimmed bushes. “Lavender, basil, mint... Veena yells at me if I harvest them too early. Says I’m ‘too impulsive with the leaves.’”

Y/N bent down to brush their fingers over the lavender. “It smells like a fancy witch’s bath bomb.”

“Right?” Oliver grinned. “It’s why I keep it near the kitchen. Makes me feel like I’m living in a potion book.”

They moved past the herbs toward the orchard, where the trees arched above them like a green tunnel. The branches were heavy with apples and little hanging jars—glass ones, filled with dried flowers and notes.

Y/N squinted. “Are those jars? in the trees?”

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. “People in Threadville write stuff and hang it here. Dreams, wishes, bad memories they want to let go of.”

He plucked a jar off a branch and handed it to Y/N. Inside was a tiny paper crane and a note that read “I hope I learn to stay.”

Y/N went quiet. “That’s… beautiful.”

Oliver looked at them, and not the jar. “You can write one too, if you want.”

Y/N turned the jar slowly in their hands, their voice soft. “What about you? What do you write in here?”

Oliver hesitated, then chuckled dryly. “I haven’t. Yet.”

Y/N glanced up. “Why not?”

He shrugged, but his eyes were steady now. “Maybe I was waiting for something or someone… to make me want to.”

They locked eyes for a moment, the air going still.

Y/N's voice dropped to a whisper. “And now?”

Oliver took a slow breath. “Now.... I think I might finally want to write something.”

Y/N smiled at him, their cheeks still warm from all the unexpected charm in this chaotic world.

Then, without a word, Oliver reached up and carefully removed the little purple flower that always rested tucked into the ribbon of his hat—small, delicate, a little lopsided, but it had always been there like a secret he hadn’t told anyone.

He held it between his fingers for a moment, hesitating. His gaze flicked to Y/N’s face, still flushed, still bright, and then...

“This one always reminded me of purity and adventure,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair gently behind their ear before tucking the flower into place. “Fits you better than it ever fit me.”

Y/N stood still, eyes wide for a second, the wind now carrying silence. They didn’t know what to say. Their heart was thudding in a weird, slow rhythm not panic or chaos. just… warmth.

Oliver stepped back, hands sliding into his pockets, a crooked smile blooming on his face like he hadn’t just casually gifted a moment straight out of a storybook. “Don’t lose it. I only have like, six more.” (he's lying that is the only one)

Y/N laughed—soft and real. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Guilty,” he grinned. “But maybe a little sincere, too.”

Alright, guys—now it’s your turn! I need to know: what would YOU write in those jars? Drop your ideas in the comments, and I’ll pick my favorite to feature in the next chapter—maybe even build a whole story around it! I know this chapter’s a bit shorter than the last one, but trust me... Chapter 3 is going to be a ride. It’ll be longer and wilder—I pinky swear!