─Cold Espresso

sketchbook stuff from the last couple months

scars in fiction: I got this trying to save my lover from an assassin- but tragically, I was too late. now I carry the mark of my failure with me always, and I can never forget~

scars in real life: so I was trying to open macaroni sauce with a paring knife

A Night to Remember

★ CHARACTER ─ Malleus Draconia

✦ GENRE ─ fluff

★ WARNING ─ none

✦ SUMMARY ─ In the ballroom of NBC, glancing amongst the crowd, you noticed him. This was your chance.

Note: I think this takes place after they sang "Make a Wish"? I don't really know... Im probably not the only one who got this idea, but I just really wanted to write this one. It came to me while I was listening to "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" on loop

The ballroom of Noble Bell College glimmered under the soft light of the chandeliers. The elegance of the surroundings seemed to amplify the elegance of every guest present. Gowns swirled like blooming flowers and tuxedos glided across the polished floors, all accompanied by the hum of music and laughter. You stepped into the room, your attire fitting perfectly for the occasion—a vision of grace amidst the crowd.

Your eyes scanned the room, drawn instinctively to him. Malleus Draconia stood near the edge of the ballroom, his striking masquerade attire radiating an air of majesty that left onlookers hesitant to approach. Sebek stood honorably by his side, his intense gaze warding off any who might muster the courage to engage the heir of Briar Valley.

But not you.

You wove your way through the crowd, your heart racing with anticipation as Malleus’s gaze found yours. His eyes seemed to soften, the imposing presence he carried melting into something more gentle. With a small, almost unnoticeable smile, he stepped away from Sebek and began moving towards you.

The music shifted, signaling the start of a dance. The crowd parted slightly, as if the world itself made space for the moment between you and him. You reached him just as the first notes echoed through the hall, and he offered you his gloved hand.

"May I have this dance?" his voice, calm and smooth, a gentle smile that just warms your heart.

"Of course," you replied, placing your hand in his.

The dance began. He moved with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly, his steps perfectly measured and graceful. You, however, let the music guide you, your style freer and more expressive. At first, it felt like a mismatch, but then you noticed something extraordinary—Malleus was slowly mimicking your movements, his usually precise steps loosening to mirror your fluidity.

A laugh bubbled from your lips, and he smiled—a genuine, delighted expression that lit up his face. Together, you danced, your contrasting styles blending into something uniquely yours. The crowd around you blurred, the music your only anchor to reality.

He twirled you around, his grip steady yet gentle, and you couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound light and free as it mingled with the melody. As you spun back into his arms, the world seemed to pause for a heartbeat; eyes locking onto yours.

Later, you found yourselves on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The stars above stretched endlessly, their light casting a faint glow over the gardens below. The muffled sounds of the ballroom drifted through the open doors, but out here, it felt as though you were in an entirely different world.

Laughter bubbled up from your chest, and Malleus gave you a look of amused curiosity, his emerald eyes alight with a rare glimmer of playfulness.

"How’d you know how to dance like that?" you teased, referencing his loose, carefree movements that had mirrored your own.

"I didn’t," he replied smoothly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You blinked. “You’re saying you were just winging it?”

“Of course,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “I followed your lead. If it seemed otherwise, perhaps you’re a better guide than you realize.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in the best way. "Well," you said softly, "I think you’re a natural. But next time, maybe don’t outshine me at my own style.."

...

"I never imagined I would enjoy myself so much tonight," he admitted, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "You’ve shown me something new—something wonderful."

You leaned against the balcony rail, looking at him. "I enjoyed every moment, too..."

He turned toward you fully, his gaze unwavering. "I’ve often been surrounded by people yet felt entirely alone. But with you, I’ve felt… seen." His words touched something deep within you, and before you could respond, his smile widened—a genuine, heartfelt expression that seemed almost out of place on someone so regal.

"I'm grateful," he said simply, his voice filled with warmth. You smiled back, feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t thought possible. In that moment, under the starlit sky, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you and the quiet, unspoken promise of something more.

I haven't been writing since I was busy with school, and also been kinda focused on drawing more... so I feel like im not as good? but so far I like this Idea more than the rest..

Soo... how was it? GOOD? BAD? It feels rushed.. OH NOO!

I feel like it didn't really turned out on how I wanted it to, but I barely even remember it

I think im gonna try to focus on twst more :•)

͚𝆬 𝃞 ೃᰰ࿔ got the music in you baby, tell me why 𝃞 ◌๋ 𝅘ྀི𝅥

Unfortunately I am currently unable to donte, I will try to spread the word. This is not over yet, people there are still diplaced and suffering. They are still far from their goal.. please help her and her family by sharing, reposting with the link, and donating what you're able!

Emergency, read my story and help me ‼️

Please Share Or Replog Or Donate For My Family 💔🙏

I am reham, his condition, and all the families of Gaza are very difficult, they do not have the necessities of life, no medicine, no food, no health, no education, nothing but death and destruction I appeal to everyone who sees my campaign to stand by my family, Whether by donating or sharing the story with your friends to raise an amount that will help my family get out of Gaza safely 💔🍉

I am a nurse at Nasser and Al-Khair Hospital in Khan Yunis I also used to work for Dentist K But at the present time, I have lost my job, which was a source of income for me and my family in the past, and now all I will have left is the donation link that I made in order to help my family, about thousands.But it takes timeI hope to achieve the goal of my campaign.

I also want to do charitable work and spread the first aid course to children and women because we really need that urgently at the present time because of this war and genocide that we are exposed to.I lost my brother because of this war, and I really miss him. The loss is painful.

I have been afflicted with a great emptiness and depression because of his distance from me. I hope you pray for him too, may God have mercy on him. 💔🥺🙏

Donate 5$ enough the change my life

👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

instagram account @/nutella_i_i .

https://gofund.me/a08653d7

https://gofund.me/a08653d7

Verified link 👇

https://www.tumblr.com/rehamyasirr/756536175917940736/i-am-so-grateful-for-your-participation-in-my?source=share

Verified link 👇 :

90-ghost

Verified by @palestinegenocide @queerstudiesnatural @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @northgazaupdates @apollos-olives @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL 😭😭

Confetti on The Carpet

( Fiddleford McGucket x reader || he has a surprise for you ♡ I couldn't find a good quality picture of him for the life of me I am sorry anon 😭 )

You open your door to find Fiddleford holding... something behind his back.

"Honey, what is this?" You look down at the box in his hand, equal parts curious, equal parts cautious. You smile to yourself, preparing for whatever he is going to give you.

Fiddleford had a tendency to show his appreciation through gifts. Weather that be oddly specific machines, to things that reminded him of you. He once gave you a bandaid he found on the floor because, in his words, you "always knew how to put him back together."

"A surprise, hon." He replies, fighting the urge to smile. "You mind lettin' me in? Don't want anybody else to see this thang besides you. Your eyes only, y'know. Confidential stuff.”

"Confidential stuff?" You repeat, somewhat more worried about the state your dorm would be in after this. "Nothin' that's gonna explode or anything like that. Trust me." He chuckles, eyes crinkling as he laughs.

You wouldn't say it out loud, but hearing the way Fiddleford laughed always let your guard down. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. You notice the box in his hands wasn't as big as you imagined. It wasn't making any humming sounds either.

"Remember when you showed me that ad ya saw in the paper? The one about the icemaker that couldn't be shipped here 'cause we don't got the money?"

"And also because the Dean is an ass about international shipping." You add, wondering to yourself where he was going with this. "And yes, I do remember."

"Well, guess what I got for ya in here." Fiddleford couldn't hide his laughter to himself, he was giggling now, sounding as if he were proud of whatever he put inside the box he held out with his hand.

"Go on, open it." He says, tempting your curiosity.

You take the box from his hand, feeling the weight of its contents. It was light. Was he joking with you, or did he actually make something? Fiddleford always liked making excuses to see you. It gave him time off of working on equations when he didn't feel like quadruple checking them.

Sitting on the carpet, you pat a spot across from you for Fiddleford to sit down. You grab a pillow from your bed for him to sit on. You knew how much he complained about back pain. At the age where he shouldn't even have back pain.

"Thank you, honey." He uses the pet name like it was your actual name, holding his lower back as he sits down.

You tug on the ribbon that held the box together. The box quickly comes apart.

You almost jump out of your seat on the floor when confetti practically explodes out of a compartment on one of the box's walls. "What the hell?!" You exclaim with a laugh, making Fiddleford clutch his stomach in laughter.

"Gah- I knew you'd fall for that!" He snorts, adjusting his glasses against the bridge of his nose.

You weren't even mad. You probably should've seen this coming. Whatever. You still haven't figured out what was inside the box.

Wiping away the stray confetti, that would be a pain to clean later, your eyes set on a penguin shaped...something. "Fidds, honey," you hold the penguin shaped object towards him. "Just what exactly is this?" You ask, raising a brow.

"It's a shaved-ice maker!" He exclaims proudly, most likely because he made it from scratch. "Since it's almost summer n' you complained about how they haven't fixed the air conditioning in your dorm, I made this for ya!" He adds at a pace you can barely keep up with. Hearing him talk so happily about his creation makes your eyes soften.

You place the penguin shaved ice maker on the carpeted floor. You lean in to hug him. "Oh baby, what would I do without you?" You say, trying not to laugh as you speak. You move his glasses out of the way to kiss the bridge of his nose.

"I honestly don't know!" He replies, glasses perched on the top of his head. He can feel himself go red already as you run your fingers through his hair.

"Exactly. You spoil me, honey." You say in agreement, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

— APARTMENT 345. (PT I)

synopsis: moving into a new apartment with three men isn't exactly the most easy feat, but you think there's something quite unusual about your new roommates that makes life seem a little more fun. (prequel) ↳ episode synopsis: you suspect that one of your roommates has it out for you, making things a little more than awkward when you and him have a day off together. feat. karasu, otoya, yukimiya || wc: 3.6k contains: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, roommates au, modern au, fluff, misunderstandings, an attempt at crack (pls laugh), aged-up characters (20s), pov switches, more of a focus on karasu in this

You think your roommates are weird.

Not weird in a bad sense, but just... odd.

Their dynamic with each other is especially a little peculiar, considering none of them act the same way with one another, their personalities always twisting just a bit when interacting with the other roommate. But it's still clear there's this unspoken harmony between the three of them that upholds the peace in the loft. You just struggle to fit yourself in it to help the foundation of it all—as it's clear you're not a part of their little circle. At least not yet.

Yukimiya is by far the most normal one out of the trio and perhaps the one you've talked to the most.

A true gentleman at heart, he's always the first to greet you in the morning as you sleepily daze into the kitchen, a steaming black coffee at the ready in your cup for customization. You come home later than the others, but he'll always save some leftovers for you in the fridge for you to munch on, your name written in neat handwriting with a smiley face adorning glasses on an orange post-it plastered on the container.

You blame it on not really knowing each other that well, but you find he's the most docile with you. Him, Karasu, and Otoya have known each other since their high school days, so it's quite normal of them to bicker childishly with each other, but when it comes to you, you always see a rather gentle smile on his face. You think it looks a little fake, though, as if it's there by default.

Otoya is humorous by nature. He's funny without trying, without having to crack a smile from himself. In fact, you rarely ever see him smile, just always has a sleepy look to his face as he says the oddest things known to mankind and is often the starter to meaningless conversations.

"I feel like we should domesticate bears," he had said one time out of the blue. "I think they're too cute to not be pets."

"They'd bite yer head off an instant, dumbass," Karasu told him as he flipped a page in his magazine, to which Otoya nonchalantly shrugged.

"If it means I can pet them, then I'd take the risk," he said simply stated before stalking off to his room that always smells just a little bit fruity and sweet (It didn't take you long to figure out whose Pineapple Ice Lost Mary was on the kitchen island).

He wears weird t-shirts too. Aside from the "I ♡ MILFS" shirt you saw when you first met each other, some of your other personal favorites include his firetruck red shirt that simply reads "i have a bomb." in plain black Arial font and his beige long-sleeve that displayed a cartoon cat yelling "Chicken Parmesan!" in a graphic speech bubble. Clearly wearing them with no shame, you ask Otoya where he gets such... unique... t-shirts, to which the latter replied,

"Goodwill."

Karasu is the one roommate you haven't cracked fully yet. By far, he's the weirdest.

Even though he was the first person you had met when you were first being interviewed, he tends to keep to himself. Something in your gut says that he's staying away from you, purposely keeping himself at arm's length. He's still cordial, but unlike the other two, he doesn't really seem to spare much words with you. The most he'll usually do is just remind you that it's garbage day, but other than that, he rarely ever speaks more than sentence to you on the weekly.

Because of such, you think you have to walk on eggshells around him, always apprehensive that you'll make one wrong move that'll for sure root a dislike towards you with him when it's clear he doesn't really seem to favor you all that much. He'll give a nod of acknowledgement at you if you pass each other in the halls and will ask if he can borrow a charger, but nothing more personal. You figure that might be best—it's better to have a roommate who barely knows who you are but exist with you peacefully instead of a roommate who constantly butts heads with you.

So when you finally have a day to yourself that just so happens to coincide with Karasu's, you are nothing less of tense.

And to think you were going to spend the day finishing up on your soap opera with your pals Ben and Jerry! You were looking forward to having the loft to yourself, so when you see Karasu lounging on the couch and watching a soccer match, your stomach plummets. Otoya gets home at around 5:00pm, while Yukimiya gets home at around 6:30pm, meaning you'll be stuck with Karasu for at least a full seven hours.

Karasu notices you as you walk out of the hallway, turning his head towards you when you come into view. You freeze suddenly, body going rigid as his deep navy eyes bore into you.

Your surprise still lingers in your body, even as you open your mouth to try and greet him, but nothing comes out.

A brow raises from him. "Hi...?"

"Oh! Uh," you twitch, trying to recompose yourself. "Good morning—!"

"Mornin'," he quietly greets back after a confused moment of silence at your reaction.

When you stiffly shuffle towards the kitchen, you want to crumble and whine. Back still facing your roommate as you pour yourself a cup of coffee, you ask, "You don't have work today?"

"Nah," Karasu says boredly, "Boss took an early vacation, so everyone got the day off today."

"A-ah, I see," you quietly reply back with a thick tongue. Fighting the urge to wail aloud at the fact you'll be sharing a space with the one roommate that seems a little too far from your reach, you escape back to your room with your breakfast, not really wanting to be around him.

You were planning to do so much today! Clean up the loft, do some stretching on the balcony to catch some sunlight, cook up some meals in the open kitchen, but of course your luck doesn't bestow upon you today, as doing all of those would mean Karasu would be in your vicinity.

The mattress creaks when you miserably land on top of it, pillow soaking in your whines and sighs. You suppose your room will have to suffice.

On the other side of the wall, Karasu swiftly pulls out his phone, head clamoring with thoughts and questions as he opens up the "alvin & the chipmunks" groupchat in his contacts.

karasu (10:34) : eita —otoya (10:36) : wat karasu (10:36) : u told me her day off was next week friday —otoya (10:38) : ya, the last friday of the month —yukimiya (10:39) : Check your calendar, Eita karasu (10:39) : yea exactly. it's today u fucking buffoon —otoya (10:39) : wait fr —otoya (10:39) : fackkk im late on my credit payment again

Karasu smacks his hand to his forehead, cursing Otoya under his breath. Of course he misread the dates. Now he's stuck here with you for the next few hours and he doesn't quite know what to do.

—otoya (10:42) : idk what ur deal is shes nice —yukimiya (10:42) : Agreed. I think you just need to talk to her karasu (10:43) : u guys dont get it —yukimiya (10:45) : Why? Does she make you nervous?

A dry swallow passes through Karasu's sandy throat as he reads Yukimiya's text. Even though it was quite a loud secret, Karasu couldn't deny the fact you did, in fact, make him somewhat on edge. But not for the reason you think.

It wasn't his fault. He didn't expect you to be so attractive in real life given that your contact information's profile picture was simply just your first initial. How was he supposed to act when such a pretty thing is around him at nearly all times? He's never been very good with women the way his roommates are. Terrified of making an accidental wrong move, Karasu distanced himself away from you, trying to make himself scarce in fear of doing so.

He groans before typing his reply back.

karasu (10:47) : no

Otoya replies back in an instant, and Karasu thinks he should put hair removal cream in his shampoo at his response.

—otoya (10:47) : liar lmfaooo bet someones got a crush uwu

He grits his teeth, trying to fight the blush that he can feel creeping on his cheeks.

karasu (10:47) : stfu moron karasu (10:48) : as if u weren't making goo goo eyes at her yesterday morning —otoya (10:48) : not my fault! —otoya (10:48) : theres just sumn abt a cute girl in a large tshirt and short shorts... 🤔 really makes u think... karasu (10:49) : bro thinks hes aristotle —yukimiya (10:50) : Please stay respectful

Yukimiya then texts something that makes Karasu's brain fizz out ever so slightly. He frowns.

—yukimiya (10:50) : Tabito, why don't you take this time to do something with her to get to know her? To help break the ice —otoya (10:50) : yaaa like yk how me and her went to that flea market together —yukimiya (10:51) : Yes exactly. Or how she and I visited that pop-up shop down on 5th

As much as he'd hate to admit it, Yukimiya did have a point. You got along with the other two men just fine, even having the ability to crack teasing jokes with them without a misunderstanding flying about. But he knew if he even tried to do something of such with you, if you took it the wrong way, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

karasu (10:55) : idk —yukimiya (10:56) : It doesn't have to be extravagant. Just something casual —otoya (10:59) : ye like what chappell roan says🫡 —yukimiya (10:59) : That's not what that song is about —otoya (10:59) : oh...

Karasu shuffles his phone to the side and settles woefully into the couch. He shifts his eyes to your closed door, where he knows you're in probably not giving him the time of day.

On the other hand, you're wallowing in your misery still, trying to think of what to do that escapes Karasu's radius around you. Perhaps you should go to a museum? Or maybe try out that new pottery place down the block.

You opt for going to the grocery store, thinking that be a good distraction and would allow you to get some fresh air. Maybe you should try out that pasta recipe you've been seeing all over social media nowadays.

You launch up in your bed, determined to make this day about yourself and not to allow yourself just simply mope around in your room as you march towards the door. Hand grasping the doorknob, you fling it open, ready to clean yourself up in the bathroom but instead find yourself facing Karasu, who has a hand up that was clearly ready to knock on your door.

You jump back. "Oh! Hi there!"

"Ah," Karasu slowly puts his fist down, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry. Didn't mean t'startle ya."

"No, you're fine," you choke out, wondering what business Karasu may have that landed him at your door. "Did... did you need something?"

You wince at your tone, since it comes out a little sharper than you intended. Karasu seems to have noticed it, seeing as how he thins his lips ever so slightly.

"Uh... well," he starts slowly. "Was just wonderin' if you needed anythin' from the store. I'm 'bout to head down there to do some shoppin'."

You blink owlishly at his comment before giving a stiff, brief chuckle. "What a coincidence," you mention, "I was actually gonna go there myself in a few."

You think of this as your chance to perhaps finally get some breathing space for yourself. An elation fills yourself at the thought, and you begin to conjure up your list to give him, but then he says something that brings the former feeling of tension back into you, heaving you down like sand.

Karasu juts his hands in his pockets, turning to directly face you, his red ears hidden from view from you, curtained by his dark hair.

"Well, if that's the case," he begins all too nonchalantly, going to share your gaze. "D'ya want to tag along?"

And now you're here, side-by-side in a semi-crowded market with the one roommate who you don't even know the age of.

Something in your common sense attempts to get the thought of he doesn't actually hate you through your head. But you still can't help the fact that every time you brush against him, when he looks at you, you think he's sending you a warning.

In Karasu's eyes, however, when he scanned the area of the market, he notices that it's quite busy, so he understands that there'll probably be some times where you just accidentally bump into him to avoid running into others, his eyes flickering to you each to just make sure you're okay.

"Jeez, this much for apples?" you exasperate as you put down the bag of the fruit.

Karasu looks over your shoulder, his cologne suddenly filling your senses. Sweet... you think, yet woody. A slight hint of sage, perhaps?

"Yer better off just gettin' the individual ones," he points out and juts his thumb behind him, breaking you out of your trance. "Y'can get the same amount for cheaper by a buck or so."

"Oh, really?" you perk up and whip your head around to view how much the individually stacked apples were, but before you can process it, you spin around too fast and twist over your own feet.

An elderly woman on a motorized shopping cart is just a few feet shy away from you, and you brace for impact from running into it, but you feel a yank of your arm tug you back just in time.

"Woah there," Karasu is quick to pull you in close to his chest, letting the elderly woman glide by without another care in the world. "Don't get too hasty now."

You feel heat skitter over your face, embarrassed at the fact that you can't even move your own limbs properly around him. You should've just stayed back home, sighing internally at how impulsive you could get. To think you could withstand an entire shopping trip with your roommate that you think stays away from you when you couldn't even stand being in the same room as him!

You mumble an apology, Karasu's cologne wavering about you again in an attempt to calm down.

He suddenly lets out a deep chuckle, the vibration of it thundering from his chest. You lift you chin up to see him... smiling? And it isn't one of those stiff ones that he often gives you nor the smirk he'd throw at Otoya or Yukimiya, it's a genuine one, one that shows his teeth and makes his eyes crinkle.

"Didn't think someone could get so excited 'bout mere apples," he remarks with a grin.

An incredulous stare glazes over your eyes, a lighter feeling in your chest suddenly gracing upon it.

Karasu takes notice of your staring and freezes. A dread leaks itself within his body, making him go rigid all of a sudden. Oh, he's really done it now. He can't go making such teasing jokes around you like you were Otoya or Yukimiya. You're not a guy either, it's not polite to be making such jokes around a girl barely knows.

An apology attempts to conjure in his tightened throat, but it dissolves the moment that he sees you break out into a smile yourself.

"Sorry," you breathe through a breezy laugh. "Economy's so bad nowadays that any good deal will get me reeling, y'know?"

Karasu's eyes soften when he spots your relaxed smile, one he's seen in passing but never to him, until now. And when you adorn it towards him and him only, he can't help but feel a fluttering feeling in his chest.

Yukimiya's words echo in his head. Break the ice.

"If that's the case," Karasu starts slowly. "The weather's gettin' peachy now. There's an actual farmer's market openin' soon downtown, and they sell their stuff for way cheaper than this crap."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to avert his gaze away from your curious, awaiting one. He thinks those doe eyes could definitely beat a puppy's any day.

His breath hitches, confidence slowly building and falling as the seconds tick by.

Just break the ice.

"Would..." he coughs, clearing his throat. "W-would y'wanna go there with me... to check it out... next Saturday...?"

Karasu dares to turn his eyes back to you, where he finds you fondly smiling at him, assurance all over your features.

"I'd quite like that," you reply warmly.

The chicken plops into the pan with a hearty splat. Karasu winces.

"Shoot," he mutters, feeling a bit of the orange sauce flickering onto himself. "Didn't mean t'drop it that hard... did it get on ya?"

"A little bit," you laugh as you scoop up a bit of it from your arm and tasting it. Karasu looks for a sign of approval on your end to see if the pasta sauce is good on your favor and sighs when you nod contently. "Mm. Not bad."

The door to the loft clicks open and you avert your gaze to it after you sprinkle some salt into the boiling pot of water. In comes Yukimiya and Otoya, chattering about.

"Hi there," you greet, waving a hand.

Yukimiya is first to notice you both, surprise on his features when he sees his two roommates that had barely seemed to acknowledge each other since your move-in standing next to each other in the kitchen, cooking out of all things.

It's a domestic scene, one he thinks that you and Karasu would only accomplish in a year's-time or so given the current atmosphere. So it comes to a pleasant shock to him that the bull-headed Karasu actually took his advice for once and broke the ice by himself like a big boy.

"Smells good," Otoya hums contently and spots you and Karasu after Yukimiya. "Whatcha both cookin'? And can I have some?"

Otoya peers over Karasu's shoulder, the latter lightly shoving him back before Otoya can dip his dirty finger into the sauce. "Hold it, ya idjit. We're nearly done, relax."

"If you're able to actually, Otoya," you call over and jut your head towards the oven. "The garlic bread should be done by now. Would you mind taking it out so it can cool?"

"Can I get a piece?" Otoya asks, cheering under his breath when you nod as you roll your eyes.

Yukimiya watches as your pour in some pasta into the pot, noticing the way Karasu whistles haughtily as you laugh when the water violently bubbles.

"Ah, is this the marry-me chicken pasta I told you about the other day?" he asks, fighting a disappointment the builds when he acknowledges that he wasn't the one that got to cook it with you but rather Karasu, despite you and him have built a weekly-habit of cooking with one another.

"Yep!" you chime happily without a care in the world.

"I still think that the sauce is missin' somethin'," Karasu mutters. "Like there's not enough zing."

You peer over to him and take a little bit of the spare lemon leftover, squeezing a bit of it over the sauce and chicken. You take a spare spoon and sipping a bit of it. You then bring the spoon and its leftovers to Karasu's lips absentmindedly for him to try. "How's that?"

He pauses for a minute, breath hitching as you bring the same spoon that your lips touched for his to as well. He stutters but goes to lean in anyway, slurping it and tasting that tang that was missing.

Otoya's eyes narrow slightly as he places down the platter of bread.

Yukimiya's lips pull into a small frown.

You blink up at him. "Is that okay? I just added some more lemon."

"Yeah," Karasu breathes as steadily as he can muster. "yeah, it's good. Thanks."

"(Y/N)," Yukimiya announces aloud suddenly, averting your gaze to the brunette. He fixes on his usual demure smile on his face the moment you spotlight him. "Remember that new cafe that was being built around the corner? Turns out they're opening next weekend, d'you want to come with me?"

"Ah..." Otoya mutters lowly as he crunches on a piece of bread. "Why are you only inviting her?"

"I thought you guys don't like coffee," Yukimiya says casually, lips still fixed ever so lightly, but Otoya can tell there's a mild mockery behind that pretty face of his.

"I guess so," the latter says, sighing. "But... there's also the record shop also has its monthly 50% off sale on Saturday, remember, (Y/N)?"

Otoya's eyes go to glance at the record player you placed in the living room for decoration, yours and Otoya's collection of records piling up beneath it, your music tastes being one the things that you were able to break the ice with Otoya about. "I spotted that record you were talking about the other day, pretty sure it'll be a part of the sale if we can go next week."

A small bit of pity grazes on your face as you guiltily look back on the both of them from the kitchen island. Karasu fights the urge to smirk when he turns over the chicken in the pan, already knowing what you're going to say to them.

You scratch your cheek, smiling a little sadly at the two of them.

"I'm sorry guys, I'd love to go but," you wave a hand towards Karasu, who gives into temptation and throws a sly smile over his shoulder from behind you that makes the men you face frown and purse their lips. "Karasu and I have plans already that day to go to the opening of the farmer’s market..."

a/n. my re-run of new girl has inspired new heights it seems. also don't talk to me if u dont think otoya would vape bc ik that mf would hit a geek bar any time of the day /j (don't follow his example tho. keep them lungs clean, kids)

sorry that this was more focused on karasu than all three of them, but i prommy yukki and otoya will get their spotlight next time i write abt them (which will be soon hopefully! im having fun with this au)

thank you for reading as always! comments and reblogs are the best way to support your writers; they're always appreciated and never unnoticed <3

𖦹 Unfolded | Chapter 3

★ CHARACTER ─ Tim Wright

✦ GENRE ─ Fluff?

★ WARNING ─ None

✦ SUMMARY ─ You made a friend, yand you guys started talking through notes! Yeay! (I have no clue what to put in here..)

Note: I got super excited because this came to me in a dream and I just thought it was probably meant to be! But I forgot Tim's part.. Maybe a little ooc? But I hope you like this either way :)

You hesitated, pen hovering over the paper as your mind raced. The forest was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves, and you could almost hear your own heartbeat. There was a vulnerability in this exchange, an unspoken bond that was both comforting and terrifying. What if this person, this stranger, was someone you could connect with? But what if they weren’t? What if this was just a fleeting interaction, leaving you more alone than before? Your hand finally moved, the pen meeting the page as you began to write:

"Thank you for your note? Means a lot to know someone out there understands. I don't know who you are, and maybe that makes it easier, to be honest. I've felt lost for a long time, like I’m wandering through a world where everyone else has a place, but I don't. The forest is the one place I feel like I can breathe. It's quiet, peaceful. But sometimes I feel like it’s just a reminder of how alone I really am."

"You said you understand. I wonder, do you feel the same way? Do you come to the forest to escape too, or to find something you’re missing? Maybe it's both for me. I don’t know."

"And if you're willing, I'd like to hear more from you. Maybe we can share our thoughts, even if it’s just through these notes. I don’t know if it will make it go away, but maybe it will help, even just a little. Hope you'll find this note"

You paused, rereading the words. It felt raw, exposing parts of yourself that you rarely even acknowledged; was this too open? you thought. But there was a strange comfort in it too, like a weight being lifted, even if just slightly. You added a small doodle of a tree next to your words, hoping it would convey some of the warmth you were feeling despite your nerves.

Folding the note carefully, you placed it in the same spot where you’d found it last, hoping the person would find it. As you walked away, a mix of anxiety and hope settled in your chest. The forest seemed different now, as if it was holding its breath, waiting for something to unfold. You couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, this exchange might be the beginning of something more—a connection, even if only a fleeting one.

As you walked home, the shadows lengthening with the setting sun, you found yourself glancing back at the path, wondering if you would hear from them again, and what they might say. The forest seemed quieter than usual, as if it was sharing your anticipation.

The days that followed were filled with a strange mix of excitement and dread. Every time you walked the path, your heart would race, wondering if there would be another note waiting for you.

────

And then, one afternoon, as you rounded the familiar bend, you saw it—a small piece of paper tucked under a rock, almost as if it was hiding, waiting for you to discover it. Your hands trembled slightly as you picked it up, unfolding it with a sense of urgency. The handwriting was the same—messy but legible, and the message made your heart skip a beat.

"glad you wrote back. The forest has been a place that somehow get me at ease. It’s the only place where I feel like I can breathe, away from the noise and take a rest. I come here to think, to be alone, but I guess part of me is always hoping I won’t be alone forever, I guess?"

"Your words connected with me more than I expected. It’s strange, right? How you can feel so connected to someone you’ve never met, just through words on a page. Don’t know where this will go, but I’d like to keep writing. Maybe, we can make this loneliness a little less overwhelming."

A small doodle of a leaf was drawn at the bottom of the page. You couldn’t help but smile as you traced it with your finger. For the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of something you hadn’t felt in ages—hope.

Morning light filtered through the curtains of your small apartment, casting soft shadows across the room. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events of the past few days in your mind. The notes, the stranger in the forest—it all felt surreal, like something out of a book or a dream. Yet it was real, as real as the sunlight warming your face and the faint hum of birds and the city beyond your window.

You finally pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, your feet meeting the cool wooden floor. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet, amplifying the thoughts swirling in your head. You went through the motions of your morning routine, brushing your teeth, making a cup of coffee, but your mind was elsewhere, caught up in the mystery of the notes. Who was this person? why are you smiling so dumbly? you didn't even know the person.. but you do want to get to know them better, don't you?

As you sat at the small kitchen table, sipping your coffee, you glanced over at your notebook lying on the counter. The pages were filled with your thoughts, sketches, and bits of poetry—things you usually kept to yourself. Yet here you were, sharing pieces of your soul with a stranger. It was terrifying, but also liberating in a way you hadn't anticipated.

────

The city outside was beginning to wake up, the distant sounds of traffic and voices slowly filling the silence. But your thoughts were far from the bustling streets. The forest felt like a world apart, a sanctuary where time moved differently. You wondered if today would be the day you’d find another note. The thought made your heart race, a mix of excitement and anxiety churning in your chest.

After finishing your coffee, you decided to take a walk to clear your head. The small apartment felt too confining, too full of thoughts and questions that had no answers. You dressed quickly, pulling on a light jacket before stepping outside. The city greeted you with its usual mix of sounds and scent. But your mind was elsewhere, already halfway to the forest. Earlier than usual.

As you walked, your thoughts returned to the note you’d found the day before. The stranger had said they felt connected to you, just through your words. It was strange, how that simple acknowledgment had brought you so much comfort. You’d never considered that someone else might feel the same way you did, might seek refuge in the same places.

Before you knew it, you were on the familiar path leading to the forest. The noise of the city faded behind you, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds. The air was cooler here, fresher, and you breathed it in deeply, feeling some of the tension leave your body.

────

As you approached the large tree, your heart began to race again. Would there be another note? You weren’t sure what you hoped for more—the continuation of this strange, wordless conversation, or the comfort of finding nothing, letting it all remain a fleeting cconnection But as you rounded the corner, you saw it— a small piece of paper, tucked under the same rock where you’d left your last note. You hesitated, a mix of excitement and nerves washing over you, before slowly reaching down to pick it up. Unfolding the paper, you saw the familiar handwriting. Your breath caught as you began to read:

"I checked to see if you left a note, didn’t know if you’d come back, but I hoped you would. Maybe you forgot to reply? or maybe you just dont know what to say? I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said— how the forest feels like a sanctuary, but also a reminder of loneliness. I get that. Sometimes it’s like the trees are the only ones who understand, who listen without judging. But knowing that you’re out there, feeling the same way, makes the forest feel a little less lonely."

"I don’t know what’s going to happen with this, with us?? Maybe it’s just words on a page, and maybe that’s all it will ever be; and im just overthinking myself. But I find myself looking forward to your notes, to hearing from you. It’s strange, really. Maybe we don’t need to meet? Maybe this is enough. Or maybe… maybe one day we will?"

"If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to know more about you. Not everything, just… whatever you feel like sharing, I guess? Who are you when you’re not here, in the forest? What makes you laugh, what keeps you up at night? I know it’s probably a lot to ask, but I’m curious. I want to understand the person behind the words."

You smiled faintly, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. This person, whoever they were, understood you in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. You didn’t know if you were ready to share more about yourself, but the idea of opening up, even just a little, didn’t seem as terrifying as it once did.

Sitting down against the tree, you pulled out your notebook and pen. The forest was quiet around you, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. And the orange shade that shine across your face as the sun began to hide. You thought carefully about what you wanted to say, how much you were willing to share. The forest seemed to hum with a quiet energy, as if it too was waiting to see what would happen next. And for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to face the loneliness alone.

Soo.. what do we think?? I personally like this one! I think its the longest ive ever written actually.. I made this at like, 3 am?? Stayed all night for this, LOL :3

Thoughts and criticisms are welcomed, as it would help me improve on my writing!

─Warm Latte

∘₊✧─── ❀ ───✧₊∘

★ Pairing: Fiddleford McGucket x reader

✦ Genre: Fluff?

★ Warnings: None

✦ Summary: With the thoughts that kept you up at night, you decided to call him. I guess you do have plans for the weekend now.

Note: This is a part 2 of cold espresso!! and thank you soo much for 60 notess on theree!! I hope you enjoy this one!!

The morning sun filters weakly through your curtains, painting your apartment in pale, washed-out colors. You wake up with a weight on your chest, the events of yesterday replaying in your mind. Fidds’s words linger, the almost-confession hanging between you like a half-finished sentence. You sit up, staring at the empty space beside you, the silence of your apartment amplifying the doubts that creep in.

Was it real, or were you both just caught up in a moment? What if he changes his mind? What if this ruins everything? The ache of uncertainty is a familiar one, but this time, it feels sharper—more personal. You’re not just risking a friendship; you’re risking the one constant that has always been there, the person who knows you better than anyone else.

You try to shake off the thoughts as you drag yourself into the kitchen, but they cling to you like the bitter taste of stale coffee. You placed the kettle on the stove, boiling it; but even then, the comforting sound of brewing can’t quiet the unease bubbling inside you. With your coffee done, You pour half a cup of milk; you finished brewing your coffee. The steam swirling like your scattered thoughts, as you stare at the phone that was mounted on the wall. You had a thought, should you call him? The missed opportunity, the half-formed words, and the weight of unsaid things hang in the air.

Maybe he’s already moved on. Maybe you’re just overthinking everything like you always do.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the button. You know you should say something, but fear grips you, tightening around your chest like a vice. What if he doesn’t want to hear from you? What if he regrets opening up? The latte’s warmth does little to thaw the icy grip of doubt in your heart. You bring the cup to your lips, letting the heat seep in, but it’s not enough to push you to action.

Finally, you take a deep breath, holding the phone as you let your thumb dial his number before you can even change your mind. The phone rings, each chime echoing your own heartbeat, loud and uncertain. You count the rings—one, two, three—each one heavier than the last until you hear the faint click and Fiddleford’s voice breaks through the static, warm and familiar.

"Mornin’, darlin’," Fidds greets, his tone light but a bit tired, like he’s been up thinking too. There’s a slight rasp in his voice, the kind that makes you think he’s been pacing his garage, lost in thought, maybe even wrestling with the same doubts that kept you awake. "Didn’t think I’d hear from ya this early."

The sound of his voice soothes and stings at the same time. You can hear the way he’s trying to keep things casual, but there’s an undercurrent there—a weight that wasn’t there before. You clutch your cup tighter, feeling a rush of nerves. "Hey, Fidds. I─ I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing."

There’s a pause, just long enough to make you wonder if he’s regretting yesterday. You picture him in his garage, tools scattered, the faint smell of motor oil and burnt circuits clinging to the air. You’ve seen that space a hundred times, but now it feels like a sanctuary you’re intruding upon. You almost wish you hadn’t called—almost.

"Aw, I’m alright," he replies, but there’s a crack in his voice, barely noticeable. "Been tinkerin’ in the garage. You know me, always got somethin’ to keep my hands busy."

You smile at the thought of him, sleeves rolled up, grease on his hands, lost in the creation of some new invention. It’s so quintessentially him, the way he pours himself into his work when he’s trying to work through something. But today, even that image doesn’t bring the comfort it used to. You can hear it in his words—the same uncertainty, the same fear of messing things up that’s been gnawing at you.

You take a deep breath, trying to muster some courage. "I’ve been thinking a lot about yesterday. About what you said… and what I didn’t get to say."

There’s another pause on the line, heavy and charged, and you feel your heart drop. What if he’s changed his mind? What if this is all too much too soon? You imagine him, fidgeting with a screwdriver or wiping his hands on an old rag, anything to keep busy, to keep from saying what he’s really thinking.

"I’ve been thinkin’ about it too," he finally admits, his voice softer, more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard it. It’s almost like he’s laying his heart bare, showing you the parts he’s always kept hidden, even from himself. "Was worried maybe I said too much, maybe scared ya off. But, truth is, I don’t regret it. Not one bit."

The knot in your chest loosens just a little, and you swallow the lump in your throat. His admission is raw, real, and it hits you harder than you expected. "You didn’t scare me off, Fidds. If anything─ if I'm being honest, I’m the one who’s scared. Scared of losing what we have, scared of taking a chance and it not working out."

He sighs, and you can almost see him running a hand through his hair, frustrated but hopeful. "I get it. Hell, I’m scared too. But if we don’t try, we’ll never know, will we?"

You nod, even though he can’t see you, feeling the last bit of doubt start to melt away. "You’re right. And I don’t want to keep wondering. I want to try, Fidds. I want to see what this could be."

His soft chuckle warms you from the inside out. It’s the kind of laugh that used to fill late nights with the soft glow of desk lamps and the quiet hum of old music playing on his radio. "Well, shoot, darlin’, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all week. How ‘bout we make it official then? A real date. You and me, no holdin’ back."

The tension between you evaporates, replaced by a lightness that feels like sunshine breaking through the clouds. The reality of his words sinks in, each one planting hope where doubt had taken root. You smile, glancing out the window as the morning brightens just a little more. "I’d love that. Tonight?"

"Tonight," Fidds repeats, a hint of excitement coloring his voice. You can hear the smile behind his words, and it sends a flutter through your chest. "How ‘bout we make it somethin’ special? Don’t gotta be fancy or nothin’, but, y’know… somewhere that feels right."

You pause, thinking about all the possibilities. There’s a nervous thrill coursing through you—picking the perfect spot feels like the first step into something real. "How about that little Italian place downtown? The one with the fairy lights and the outdoor patio? I’ve been wanting to try it for ages, and I hear the food’s amazing.."

Fidds hums thoughtfully, and you can almost picture the way his face lights up at the suggestion. "Sounds like a plan, darlin’. I always knew you had good taste. Plus, can’t go wrong with some pasta and good company, huh?"

You laugh softly, feeling your nerves ease with his playful tone. "Guess not. I’m warning you though, I might order half the menu. I’ve been craving good Italian for weeks."

He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. "Well, don’t you worry ‘bout that. I’ll keep up. Might even out-eat ya if we’re not careful. And hey, if it’s half as good as the company, I reckon we’re in for one hell of a night."

There’s a beat of comfortable silence before Fidds’s voice drops a little, more sincere. "Y’know, I’ve been lookin’ forward to this. Feels like we’re finally doin’ somethin’ we shoulda done a long time ago." His words tug at your heart, the weight of everything left unsaid still hanging between you. But there’s a new kind of hope there too, one that’s slowly outshining the fear. "Yeah… me too... I’ve always had a feeling that maybe we were just waiting for the right time."

"Guess it took us a while to figure that out, huh?" he says, a hint of laughter in his voice that doesn’t quite mask the emotion underneath. "But better late than never. We’re makin’ our own time now."

You feel a warmth spreading through you, a soft glow that makes the morning feel a little brighter. "I’m glad we are. I think… I think this is going to be good for us. No more ‘what ifs,’ just us, figuring it out together." Fidds’s voice softens, his sincerity coming through clearly. "Yeah. And whatever happens, I just want ya to know—I’m in this with ya. We’ll take it one step at a time, and if it ever feels like too much, we’ll talk it out. No pressure, no rush. Just us."

You smile, feeling lighter than you have in a long time. "Thanks, Fidds. I really needed to hear that. And don’t worry—I’m all in too."

There’s a comfortable pause before he speaks again, his tone turning playful. "Alright then, tonight it is. Seven sound good? I’ll make sure to wear somethin’ that ain’t covered in grease, promise."

You laugh, the sound carrying the kind of joy that’s been missing for far too long. "I think you’d look good no matter what, but I’ll hold you to that. Seven it is."

"See ya tonight, darlin’," Fidds says, his voice light, but with an underlying current of something more—a promise, a new beginning. "We’re gonna have ourselves a real good time."

You hang up, feeling the anticipation bubbling up inside you. Tonight isn’t just another dinner; it’s the start of something new, something that’s been waiting in the wings for far too long. And for the first time in a long time, you feel ready.

What do you thinkk?? Good? Bad?? Tell mee!! Ive been thinking what to do with this one.. not as creative but i like it!

Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome!

is this anything