#wafflestories

Okay, I was excited about this day and category, it was the first one I actually did, but I didn't feel like I could convey it in drawings (or that it would take me too long if I did it with that), so I turned it into a short-fic

I know it probably won't be well received for that reason, but it was something I really wanted to do, so… well, here it goes.

Thump

It was a cold, but mostly calm winter night, the wind was blowing outside Eaden's bakery, it wasn't especially strong, but it managed to generate howls and the trees to move enough for their wood to make a crackling sound from time to time.

The place, like most of the town, was mostly made of wood, but firmly and solidly built, even though until not long ago, they had to remodel a little inside, mostly the room in which its inhabitants slept - After all, since the second of them arrived, or rather, since they started sleeping together, it had become a necessity to make the ceiling a bit or two higher.

Yeah, a lot of changes had happened in that place, how it had turned from a place of tension, of banging on the wall and night terrors, to not only having an adequate roof so that anyone could stand without crashing or hitting or needing another bandage in his head, it also has a proper window, normal curtains, furniture, and decorations. It was a completely different place. Just like the people sleeping in it.

One of them, the one with the shortest stature, opens her eyes slightly, having woken up, with the weather - or rather the wind - being the main cause, along with a slight drop in temperature. When she was alone, she usually didn’t notice the presence of those stimuli due to being busy with her own nightmares, which either woke her up or kept her distracted. It could also happen that, if she manages to sleep with no nightmares or no dreaming at all, if she noticed them, than the sound plus the cold would bring back bad memories of unpleasant, cold places with hollow sounds on a smaller scale -usually that involved a short walk to the kitchen for a warm milk cup. and a re-reflection on her life and the events surrounding her until she could fall asleep again.

Things are different now. She had managed to get used to it, to feel those signals that reminded everyone that there was still a long time before winter left and spring take place, to stop associating every small unpleasant and cold noise with That place. But of course, as with any person, there could be exceptions, it could happen to anyone that the seasons could wake you up with the weather in the middle of the night, always something inopportune. The main difference was that, in the current time, she had other, new tools to deal with them and, her untold favourite, involved the person who slept a few centimetres from her.

A tall, too-tall, skinny, gawky blonde man who was fast asleep facing her. He was also the main person responsible for the vast majority of changes that both her house and her life had undergone. The mere presence of him there had been and had had a couple of changes.

Not that she was complaining at all, au contraire, having him there, next to her every night, was nothing less than welcome. In fact, at times like this, it was exactly what she needed.

Moving stealthily and carefully (never a problem for her) so that she becomes attached to him. That, at first instance, fixes the problem of the cold, probably for both of them, she knew he could have woken up at some point because of the same reason, neither of them were very fond of the cold after all- but of course, this was not just about the cold, if it was, being like that would have been enough or she could just have gotten up quickly and stealthily, as only she could, to get a blanket and come back and problem solved. No, this was different and required a small specification in her movements. And that was to put her head right at the height of his chest, so she could carefully rest her ear on it, close her eyes and just pay attention.

*Thump-thump*

She smiled.

There it was.

*Thump-thump*

The sound she was looking for.

*Thump-thump*

It wasn't a necessity, but it was something she liked to do from time to time, if the opportunity and circumstances presented themselves (like in this moment) - it was something more like an habit, perhaps? She didn't know, she just knew that for her it was almost like that feeling that comes from the sound of rain and a crackling fireplace on calm nights. Maybe even better. It was simply something that brought her peace.

And it wasn't just because of how she felt about him, although that was an important reason, but she knew it wasn't the only one. It was complicated, after all, it was, on a small scale, a vague reminder of everything they had experienced, but somehow... in a good way.

*Thump-thump*

It made her remember different related moments. How, the first time she saw him in a human form, that prototype avatar of solid light that they had made, was just that, an almost perfect, almost empty mirage, it wasn't real... it wasn't alive, Wheatley was the one that, while being awake, gave it life. Remembering, also, how, watching him asleep (or well, in sleep mode), if she hadn't known, and anyone who didn't know, she would have thought he was dead.

*Thump-thump*

Then, that time on the hill, when she leaned her face as she was doing now, but back then, there was nothing, just something similar to the noise of the LED light in a kitchen or the hard light bridges in That place. It was a strange, uncomfortable feeling... even sad, it made her think about what they did to him, what they took from him and that his whole being, in fact, was actually in something not much bigger than a pen with lights and a lot of unnecessarily complicated Aperture technology.

*Thump-thump*

Even more, at this point, it was… almost hard to believe that he didn't always look like that. Human. Even though, he always acted like one. Who knows how long he was in his little spherical body. She was sure that even now he must feel, at least in part, as if he still is in some level. She knew that at least he still didn't stop completely feeling like a machine and she had her doubts than that would ever change - if it could, there was still plenty of time for that and it was fine, she didn't mind giving him time to adjust to things, it could be annoying, yes, but it was even sweet to see when he made progress on something, how happy he was and how, truly, he kept trying after failing and learned from what he did - achieved or not. Little by little he had begun to stop pretending so often that he knew or could do things that he really didn't, to quick so fast, and start to actually try, to practice and learn despite failing till he gets it and finally being able to do it. Frustration could still become an issue for him, depending on the situation, he could still seek responsibility or blame in others (or things) while failing - fortunately that was something that had also been slowly decreasing over time. Probably, knowing that no one would harm him or throw him up if he failed, specially not her, was a great help on his progress (Plus, the enthusiasm and shine in his eyes when he finally managed to do something well was priceless)

*Thump-thump*

Then, she also remembered the first time she heard that beat, that last time they stepped into That horrible place never to return. He was naked and soaked in a slimy, stinky, gross substance, but in that moment she felt such a relief to see him, she couldn't have cared less about any of it -he was there, he was alive and he seemed to be fine, that was all that mattered -she just needed to go check him and make sure of the “being fine” part. It was in the middle of a hug when she heard it. She was so excited to see him alive that she had overlooked it, distracted by so many emotions and sensations, but being who she was, it didn't take her long to react and, after a small check, It didn't take her long to solve the puzzle. That was not a mirage or an artificial body, it was his actual body, this was real. He had his human body back.

*Thump-thump*

Of course, at that moment there wasn't much time to process it, they were a little more worried about getting back to town all in one piece.

*Thump-thump*

Someone would think that after a couple of 101 lessons on being human and relearning how to use their organic body, everything should have gone fine, but the truth is that they would still have to go through one or two more big Aperture Science Labs headache, but at least this one wouldn't involve the "labs" part, so, by comparison, they weren't that big… but still.

*Thump-thump*

At first it was just a couple of colds, flu, stomach pains, allergies (luckily they taught him not to take too many medicines at the same time to get better sooner because it doesn't work like that), his forehead testing all the edges of 2 meters or less of the town. A lot of unpleasant stuff, but nothing particularly bad - who knows how many decades in suspended animation without even contact with air wreak havoc on anyone's immune system and physical condition -at least he managed to cover his mouth by reflex when sneezing or coughing... most of the time.

The real problem came later, a couple of months later and it started with what seemed to be another case of the flu, but accompanied by a lack of appetite and more and more noticeable fatigue, among other things. He was trying to hide the seriousness of the matter, trying to make it seem like just the flu, saying from time to time that he was starting to feel better and finding ways to make it seem that way. But there was no way to continue the attempt of a theatre once she saw him fall passed out, burning with fever while he tried to go down the stairs (luckily it was almost halfway). The scare plus her own instinct helped her react quickly enough and effectively to first check that there were no serious injuries and then go find help.

The details of what happened are long, complicated, almost worthy of an adventure, but at that moment, Chell could only especially remembered being there, in Dr. Dillon's guest/patient room, him asleep in the bed and her in a chair next to the bed. She went there when she could to check on his progress, changing wet towels and checking him, his temperature, his breathing...and his pulse. Since she checked him after the fall, she could feel how his heart took on such irregular rhythms, sometimes almost at the level of tachycardia... and sometimes so low... without a doubt they were days of worry and discomfort for everyone, including fear for them both. It was an absolute relief when things finally became normal and she could see him acting with the same energy as always, having regular breathing, and being like this, in that very moment, while she was listening to that sound in the rhythm it should.

*Thump-thump*

Of course, not all were bad memories, you could say that a third and final part of what makes this pleasant for her is what that sound transmits to her, his heartbeat could become as much or more communicative than his voice-which is saying a lot, especially on those... private occasions, planned or not. Like that first time, when she found him in the bathroom naked, confused and scared by a part of his own body's functioning that he knew nothing about, so she helped him to... clear up the misunderstanding… by using the empirical method.

She discovered 2 things that night: First, that she liked to feel how, at that moment, the most obvious part of his body was not the only one that showed emotion when they were that close, it was as if they had disconnected his mouth so they could say almost everything that needed to be said.

*Thump-thump*

Second thing was, deep down, she liked having that kind of control over him. Perhaps because he was someone so vulnerable and at the same time so paradoxically unpredictable and predictable at the same time. Having that level of control over him and the circumstances around at such an intimate level was an extremely satisfying delight, almost irresistible to her so, of course, when she managed to prepare, from time to time, very occasionally, she would gladly take advantage of her position. During those encounters, she even learned that there was difference when the heart races out of fear, out of happiness, or out of pleasure.

*Thump-thump*

And now this.

Moments like this, in some certain different way, also counts as a private, intimate moment, but instead of hot, they are warm.

These moments not only allow her to feel his more honest and vulnerable side, but also allows her herself to be openly vulnerable, knowing she would be safe by being it, even if it was just for a bit of a time.

*Thump-thump*

*Thump-thump*

Someone could say, in summary, that these moments, taking the time to listen and/or feel carefully, from time to time, was something that, in some way, for her defined very well his presence in her life and himself, a reminder of what he went through - what they both went through to get here, of who he was and what she liked about him, his fragility, his spontaneity, and that strange paradoxical strength that he himself doesn't seem to realize, but it does seem to be based in that cheerful endless optimism. He made her feel warm inside and happy to have him there with her, alive and in peace. Maybe it wasn't all always joy and happy and fun, but right now, there was no way she could ever say that she regretted it.

*Thump-thump*

*Thump-thump*

It didn't take long for her to begin to fall asleep again, without separating a single centimetre from his chest, from his heartbeat, as if it were a little coo just for her.

*Thump-thump*

Shortly before she completely falls back in the Morpheus arms, she gives herself the small luxury of carefully wrapping one of her arms around him.

*Thump-thump*

To her surprise, somehow he, unconsciously -because she was very sure he was still asleep- seemed to realize this and, in response, slowly and clumsily moved his own arm to lightly puts it around her in the same way.

After that slight initial surprise and a quick processing, she simply smiled - without moving from where she was, without taking her face off his chest, she closed her eyes again and, letting herself be carried away by the calm, but somehow cheerful way of his heartbeat, she finally fell asleep.

Hello! I need to take inspiration to draw when it comes, and is just what happened! This tine, a couple of unexcpected headcanons about Chelly I'd like to share with you

Headcanon 1: Counterintuitively, at bedtime, it is Chell who tends to move more, especially if there is a nightmare (even though these have diminished considerably), which usually involves Wheatley being beaten if he doesn't wake up in time to calm her down. On his side, Wheatley barely moves, maybe turns from time to time, if there is any nightmare he might jump or turn quickly, but that's it... oh, and he sleeps with his mouth open, he doesn't snore unless he has a cold, then he snores like a bear.

Headcanon 2: An unexpected common thing for these two: neither of them are very affected by horror movies. Chell because she already lived her own in 3 and a half parts and Wheatley because he'd probably seen a loooot of corpses and humans dying in horrible ways in his life. There's not much that fiction can offer them anymore.

And well, that's it, I hope you like then, if you have any opinions, glad to read you

It wasn't the best of nights

First, Chell wasn't in bed. She had gone to the attic that they had improvised to repair some leaks, it was raining outside and, although no thunderstorm was expected, the wind was strong and noisy. The good thing was that the other two inhabitants of the house were sleeping, the bad thing was that the oldest of them was not exactly having a restful sleep.

One of those silent nightmares that made him cringe and break out in a cold sweat. One of those that involved THAT place, but not from past events, he had at least learned to handle those better. The ones that felt worst now were hypothetical events that included mixing his past and his present. Despite time, there were things that he had not overcome and it was likely that he would never overcome them, what he did and what he was and them; knowing the twists and turns that life can take, having lived some ridiculously incredible ones himself, he saw no reason why something like this would not be repeated again, somehow; becoming that monster capable of hurting, or even murdering those who matter most to him for the most selfish reasons. Only now the idea terrified him more, now it wasn't just Chell.

Now he had a baby. They had a baby, his and Chell's.

The simple idea itself of, one day, hurting that little one, of ruining things, seeing the look of disappointment in the eyes of his beloved, of fear, of hate!!

He wakes up, startled, but not screaming. He looks around, Chell still hasn't returned, he knew she should still be in the attic, he could hear things moving on the ceiling, it probably wouldn't take too long, but he decides to go for a walk around the first floor as quietly as possible to calm down.

It was strange, he hated cold water and, therefore, the rain, especially rains like that, which seemed to threaten him from the outside, but he liked to look at it from the inside of the house and that strange, but pleasant smell that arose as the water fell. Probably human things, he thought.

He went to look out the window while he tried to clear his thoughts. It wasn't the first time he had a nightmare like that, and he didn't like it.

They made him think more about that idea, an idea that was always in limbo in his head, unable to decide if it was good or bad and for that reason, it was never executed. The thought of knowing that even though he and Chell liked each other, they really liked each other's presence,it would be a lotbetter if he wasn't around. After all, he was still clumsy, still occasionally having trouble understanding these confusing protocols of the human body and society. Even having finally gotten functional glasses, which he didn't like being away from at all, he still bumped into or tripped over things, even if it wasn't as much as before.

And the baby, oh the baby, as clumsy as he was, sometimes he was even afraid to be close to her, he was afraid to pick her up and vote her, scare her, or spoil something with her. He knew that the little one didn't need him either, especially with her mother around, that, unlike him, she always seemed to know what to do, how to calm her down, how to be… well, a functional human mother - and the simple idea of…

No, honestly, sometimes he thought it was best for them to just go away and-

CRASH

The sound of the branch of a tree not far away falling due to the strong wind, he saw the branch fall from the window, it was a curious and short spectacle, he was scared, but he felt relieved to be inside. He was going to stare a little longer but suddenly -

The sound of his daughter's crying drew him back to the second floor, although when he reached the room, his haste died down for a moment. He stopped at the doorstep, looking at the crib, inherited from Wellies, who seemed happy to give those things to the baby, she liked to come see her and play from time to time, anyone would think they were sisters, although they were just neighbors.

He slowly moved towards the crib

"He-hello" said him, almost in a whisper "it's me… probably… not the parent you were waiting for, can't blame you, to be honest… but… but don't worry!! don't worry, is okay, you know?… mummy should be here soon, she is just a bit bussy now... but-but I'm sure she is on her way, you know your mum, always so efficient and practical and determinated" He says with a small smile while he kept walking to the crib with the crying baby, those were all things he loved about her " So... you know, you-you don't have to keep crying, really... I'm sorry I can't do... more..."

His voice faded for a second as he reached the crib. The little girl had not slowed down her crying at all in that time.

He felt useless, he knew that it was not his presence the one required there.

"Look, I'm really sorry, I honestly do! but… but everything will be okay, right? Your mum…"

And suddenly, he stop talking, his voice cut off as he saw his daughter clearly, in the light of her room, stretching her little arms towards him.

His heart sank for a brief second and he went from feeling useless to feeling like an idiot. She was pointing at him, she was stretching her little arms towards him, she was even trying to call him. That simple sight was enough for his arms to automatically move towards her to pick her up.

"You know what- You know what? Forget it, everything I said, I'm right here, right now, you see? Daddy's here." He lifts her up as carefully as he can, so that they are looking at each other face to face, which distracts the little girl enough to reduce her crying a bit. "There we go. That horrible noise with the branch scared you, didn't it? Hehe, I get you. You know? I hate loud noises too, it seems like we have something in common besides blonde hair." He does a kind of giggle. Finally she stopped crying and started to just sob, she seemed to listen attentively to her father's voice and her face, gradually stopped being red from the effort of crying and even began to smile a little.

"Don't worry, everything is fine, everything will be just fine, do you know why? You want to know why? Well, it's because she's not alone, daddy will be there when mommy is not there, and mommy will almost always be there, and-and you know what else? Even if you don't see us, it doesn't mean we're gone, we might just be busy or a little far away, but-but we're not going anywhere, okay? Not even I… I may… I may have thought about it at some point like a few minutes ago… but that, right now, just stopped mattering, let's pretend it never happened, okay? because… because I'm not going anywhere… well, I may have to go… to transmit… or from time to time to the city for some technical… or medical need… but! but the point- the point here is… I'm not going to abandon you, okay? Daddy will... daddy will never leave you and will always be there for you…I promise…"

He was going to return the child to her crib, feeling stupid for having considered for a second that all this was just to be useful, for Chell, it was true that she was the most important person in the world to him, it was true that the idea of disappointing her was unbearable, but also, when he saw his little girl looking at him pleading for help, then he remembered, to never forget again, that this was also for both of them too. For himsel and for that little life that he helped to create, his and Chell's daughter. At that moment she was also the most important person in his life and he would do anything for her.

But he stopped mid-movement.

"Hold on, wait a minute, missy, I just… I just realized… you were… you were trying to say 'dad' weren't ya? No no no, I'm all over it, lady, don't think I didn't realize - you were saying 'dad', right? hah! I knew it!" He laughs, moved, "Come here, sweetie, oh my god... wait until your mum hears this, I can't wait-... I can't believe it!" He clings to the baby girl who looked even smaller in her father's long, bony hands. They both smiled in that small, sweet moment, just for them; They didn't seem to be in a hurry to get back to bed, nor to have noticed that a young woman was watching them, tired, but also smiling, from the threshold of the bedroom door.

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Aaand that was one of those ideas that come to me from time to time and I need to do before the inspiration dies, I hope you like it (you can't tell I'm bad with titles, right?) In fact, now I will start working on another one, I just don't know if it will be illustrated, we'll see.

Based in a headcanon I have about the Portal 2's AMAZING fanfiction, 'Blue Sky', and its un-official sequel 'The Kick'

Here's the think, even though, Wheatley learned to accept and recognice his failures, there was an important part of lesson missed. Since the list is a little bit too long, with the time, instead of take it as a "I have failures", he toke it as a "I am a failure", wich implise that he don't see any virtues on himself. Every bad thing in his life is his fault, every good think is because of Chell or his friends, he might had helped, but is never because of him and this is not something he tlaks about with someone because he thinks, whatever good things they might say, it'll be just to make him feel better cause they're nice.

All of this became worst when his first child was born. Every little mistake feels bigger than ever. To his eyes, the child'll be "the child of the moron". So, his way to do something about it was, help Chell to take cafe of their baby as much as he can, and make sure that the kid learn to always listen, respect and look up to their (I haven't deside the sex yet, okay?) mother, make her the biggest life example ever for them. And for him, make them watch him as someone who, as much as possible, never ask for permision or to take important desitions, so he doesn't ruin anything, in short, watch him more like the mommy's helper, instead of an authoritiet figure, it was the best way he could think to help his child to not be like someone with no virtues or actual practical talents, as he was.

And, while he thinks all this, while he thinks how he could never be even a good enough father, he doesn't notice how, even when he's mentally panicking in that moment, he's still able to hold his baby carefull enough to not drop them, even if he, somehow, manage to fall from the chair, he'll be able to hold them so they don't get hurt at all. He is not noticing how he still humming the lullaby he'd been singing for his child since before they were born. He is not even noticing how, sometimes, like in that very moment, the only way the baby manage to calm down and fall asleep, is by hearing their dad's voice, even in a hum (And you can bet this child will talk with a british accent)

How did this ended up?... with a father and child relationship getting more and more complicated, followed by a stormy day, a cold, fever, apologies and a sentence Wheatley needed to hear since long ago.

... I'm bad at summarazing, I know

I hope you liked the draw at least , anyway n.nuuu 

Hello!!

I was making some sketches about my post-Blue Sky headcanons and I wanted to share them with you

Here we have Chell looking at the sleepy ones, after a little big play time

Context: since a freaking shot-gun was... too much for Wheatley, but they still thought it was a good focus exercise, so they tried with something with... less backfire. At first, it didn't work, but note just because it was hard for him to learn it well, but because he felt bad for shooting the target, it reminds him too much to a core face. Luckily, Chell was able to figure the solution.

She painted a little modification in the target design. Since then, Wheatley not only had a notorious improvement, but haven't shoot any arrow off the target, maybe not aaalways in the center, but still.

If any of you gets what did I based that pose, I'll make you a tematic sketch

Aaand last, but not least, a few Fern's sketches. I really liked her so I draw her even a little bit older, purges_lore's lore never happened here!

Hope you enjoy them and see you next tine