~salad fingers oneshots!~

🍄 Widow! Fem Reader x Salad Fingers, sorta sad fluff🍄

for the people that are a bit slow in the brain, a widow is a person who was married, but their husband/wife has passed due to sickness, an accident, or other reasons. Now, let's start!

You sighed, letting your hands do the work, it was almost involuntary at this point. You were knitting a scarf, it was a favorable pastime over walking around outside, doing something close to nothing, watching the other people in the area, or looking for things of amusement.

You had it just about finished, when you heard a soft knock knock on your door. You didn't like visitors, you lifted a scarred hand, waving it in the air, grumbling loudly with a hint of annoyance in your voice.

"Busy! Come another time, whoever you are.." Your eyes looked back down to the scarf, and your hands, you thought about your lover who'd disappeared for an entire month, only for you to find his body a week after September, how long had it been, again? 

You'd been so cooped up, that you hadn't kept track of your time, only knitting and the usual beat-down of shivering cold kept you with how long the days went for, it hurt. It truly made you feel so, so alone.

You stopped deep in thought, to scowl at another set of knocking barraging your door and agitating you to your fingertips, you rose from your chair, setting your project down and walking to the door.

"What do you want? I swear if you don't leave in the next 3 seconds I'm gonna open the door and stab you in the eyes with a knitting needle." You sneered, hearing a faint, gentle voice stammering.

"W-well, that's n-not to-too nice, n-now is it?.." the voice responded, it sounded like a very feminine person, you opened the door. You were shaken with fear as you studied this man.

He was about seven feet tall, but slightly hunchbacked, so maybe a foot shorter. He had piercing red eyes, skin so green he looked sick, and wore what you thought was a dark aquamarine sweater with black pants. His shoes looked as if they were made by hand. 

You looked to his hands, there were three fingers that looked like long cabbage leaves.

"H-hello!" He cheerily waved, you backed up out of instinct, eyes not taken off this man, whatever it really was.

"Did I- say s-something wr-wrong?.." You eased off, sighing, "No, sir. You're completely fine, you just.. scared me.." You looked into this guy's eyes, but immediately looked away with discomfort.

"Can you tell me your name?" You asked, his eyes seemed to round.

"S-salad Fingers, i-it's nice to meet y-you, ma'am.." He seemed distant, you thought.

"Well, Mr. Fingers, I'm Y/N L/N, it's quite nice to meet you too." Your tone told otherwise, but this guy didn't seem to notice the irritation in your voice.

"Well, I-I must be going now, bye, Ms. L/N.." He murmured, trailing off, you shut the door and sighed, walking back over to your chair and began knitting  once more.

You, for some reason, couldn't get Mr. Fingers off your mind, the thought of him made you slightly flustered. He seemed like a sweet guy who wanted to be friends, and you hadn't wanted to be rude, you guessed you came off that way, this sent you into a spiral.

You stopped knitting and began to think. Does he hate me? Am I somebody he would dislike?

You didn't understand, why were you so concerned of what he thought of you? He reminded you of your husband, but nothing more, you didn't think he was very handsome, but his personality was adorable. 

All these thoughts about Salad Fingers clogged your mind and brought you to a halt, you set the scarf down and took some light green, dark teal, black, and brown yarn, you were gonna get him off your mind one way or another, maybe making a small yarn figurine would help.

-uh, several hours later-

You shivered, your breath coming out in stone-cold puffs of mist, it was the dead of night, so silent all you could hear was you breathing as your heart would beat in rhythm, you felt the cold dance up your spine like a drizzle of rain.

You were almost finished with the miniature yarn version of the stranger you had met today, thoughts about him swirled along your brain like a sweet current, your hands worked effortlessly to finish it, just one more thread of brown and it would be done, you could stop a and rest without Mr. Fingers plaguing your thoughts.

A gentle knock on your door made you jump. Why would somebody be knocking at this hour? You got up woozily and opened the door, it was Mr. Fingers.

Why the hell is he at my door in the middle of the night?.. You pondered.

"Hello again, sir.." you wiped an eye of exhaustion, not wanting to appear informal.

"A-ah, hello!.." He seemed so cheery, it flooded your tired brain with waking warmth, you yawned and shook your head.

"I'd like you to not knock in the middle of the night, if that's alright, Mr. Fingers..?" He wasn't listening, he'd looked over you and saw the little yarn copy of him. You turned and felt hot, the red creeping up your face.

"Y-yeah, come back later—" You accidentally shut the door in his face, covering your own, cherry red face. You heard footsteps trailing away, and sighed.

"Do I reeeally think he's cute? Of all people.." You muttered, and heard a faint voice again.

"You aren't s-so bad looking y-yourself..!" 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Your mind yelled eternally, holy crap he heard YOU—

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yes I am aware this is better than the other stories, it's because I had thought about this idea for awhile LOL

—a/n