⭑.ᐟ TWISTED WONDERLAND

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.

Stomach aches.. URGHHH.. (.∘ˊ◠ˋ∘.)

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!

𖦹 Unfolded | Chapter 2

★ CHARACTER ─ Tim Wright

✦ GENRE ─ Fluff??

★ WARNING ─ None

✦ SUMMARY ─ You returned, pleading for a friend. Someone to talk to, someone to relate. Tim then finds the note, and decided to respond because.. why not?

Note: I want this to be a slowburn? But I am sooo Impatient.. So I feel like im just writing the same thing over and over NOO (´△｀)

You walked on the path where you were before. You had returned, back to the secluded spot under the large tree; feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort. Once more, you settled down amongst the fallen leaves and opened your notebook. This time, thoughts were filled with a full mix of emotions, including loneliness and a longing for connection.

You stare off into the distance, wondering. A thought ran through your head, you then began to write. But then you stopped, why did you stop? You paused for a moment and looked around, taking in the quiet beauty of the forest. The sun was still high in the sky, and yet casting an orange shadow throughout the forest, shimmering on the ground.

You began writing once again, yet this time you wrote something a bit different than your normal. Usually you'd be writing about your day, your feelings, and your thoughts, but rather than your usual, this time you wrote one sentence that made you hesitate. You were unsure, why? You didn't know. Putting aside your worry, you continued writing.

You thought of it for a moment, debating in your thoughts once more. Though Another thought came to mind, as you wrote another sentence at the bottom of the paragraph.

Finished writing, you then leaned back on the dark tree bark. This time you had felt more nervous about what you had written, and yet there was something about it that made you feel some relief; as if you were letting something out of you. Your thoughts and feelings were written on the page; maybe a small doodle will make the message more friendly? as if someone will read it, you thought. But you were still nervous about the thought of someone reading them. You wrote a small sentence in the bottom left of the note. You left it right there as you packed up your things, hoping someone who finds it will maybe talk to you..

Tim continued on his nightly walk through the forest. Though, it was still noon, the sky still bright, the sun has yet to set, chill starting to settle with the slowly falling night. His thoughts were scattered and weary, as he let his feet move him along the familiar path.

He was deep in thought; when his gaze flickered downwards, spotting something on the ground. As he got closer, recognition filled him; a note. Had it been the same person? He thought. Kneeling down to picked it up, as his curiosity piqued. He then unfolded it, eyes scanned the words written on the page.

He began to read the words carefully, absorbing the contents written on the page. The message was personal, an expression of loneliness and a longing for connection. It was written in the same handwriting as before, but this time, the tone was different. It felt more open and vulnerable, as if the writer was reaching out, seeking a response.

Tim didn't know what to make out of it. Feeling intrigued, he continued reading. But as he reached the end, two additional sentences caught his attention. The words seemed to convey a sense of loneliness and longing for connection, written in a messy yet desperate script. Tim read the note intently, feeling a slight pang of sympathy for the person who wrote it.

Curiosity gripped him, wondering who could have left this. It had to be the same person, he thought, as he read through it once more, taking in the words and messy but neat handwriting. It looks familiar, he thought. He looks around, looking for a clue once again, as he reads,

"I sit alone in the abyss of silence, aside from the melodic singing song of the birds. As time goes on, thoughts of loneliness and longing fill my mind. No one to speak to, no one to relate to. The weight of aloneness is too much to bear, and I know that all I can do, is sit here, just waiting for the day that I'll have the courage to reach out, and look for company, look for friends." He finished reading the first page, flipping the back to see just incase. And he sure was right, there was another, that reads.

"I seek refuge in the forest, it's the only safe space I have left. Surrounded by trees, plants, and nature, it offers me some comfort in this cold, vast world. I often find myself quietly pleading to god for a friend. Someone who could understand my struggles, be there for me. My heart longs for companionship, for someone who could be the light at the end of my dark tunnel." There was more, bottom left corner of the paper.

"But, it seems like even god can't hear me, or perhaps no one's listening."

"Maybe someday, someone will be willing to listen." The note end there, with a simple doodle of a cat, weeping; and few stars on the pieces of papers.

Maybe once he get back, he'll reply. Maybe?

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as you stared down at the page. Your heart raced, the silence of the forest almost deafening. The note in your hand felt heavy, and yet it also gave you a strange sense of comfort, knowing that someone had found and read your words. You looked around the silent forest, hoping that it wasn't just a silly joke. You took a deep breath and started to read the reply. The letters were written in a scribbly but neat handwriting; it was.. human. Message was brief and simple, yet it left you feeling a little puzzled. It reads,

"saw your note. I get it, the loneliness and longing in your heart. I can relate." You read the words on the paper again, mind racing with thoughts. The simplicity of the message intrigued you, yet at the same time, it made you feel slightly uneasy. Who was this person who had replied to your note? You sat back against the tree, deep in thought, as you stared at the note once again.

Do you write a respond? You thought. Will they read it or not, you still decided to respond. But as you write your response, a mix of emotions flood through you. Part of you feels relieved that someone else understands your loneliness, yet a small part of you yearns for a deeper connection, a desire for someone to truly know how you feel, an actual friendship.

I DONT LIKE THIS ONE NOOO (ㄒoㄒ)

AA THIS FEELS OOC! IS THIS OOC?? Maybe I'll do a rewrite someday.. But for now I'll just continue the fic..

Also, feedback and criticism is welcomed, just please dont be rude about it :-)

Remember me when youre famous 🍎<3

I will <3 Plus ive still got a longgg way to go :)

Sweet Like Apples

swansea x coworker!reader ⋆ asking him to open fruit for you (read part one of the coworker!au here)

⋆ tags : coworker!au, established relationship, coworkers to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, swansea acts a little mean bc he doesn't want daisuke to think he's gone soft (you're really killing his tough guy persona)

word count : 1k+ (and proud!! >3<) ⋆

Daisuke and Swansea sit together in the Tuplar's conversation pit. Daisuke sits with one heel on the couch, balancing the book in his hands with his knee. Swansea watches quietly as he scribbles his answers onto paper, already knowing which ones he's gotten wrong without giving the sheet a second glance.

Swansea exhales calmly.

The kid was starting to grow on him. He was beginning to think he was too harsh.

He softly reprimands the intern, no actual disdain behind his words. Swansea keeps his voice steady, though. Can't let the kid think he was going soft. "Don't sit like that." The older man lightly taps his shoulder, making Daisuke's hold on his pencil slip. "You wanna end up like me?"

Daisuke fixes his posture, sitting more properly on the L-shaped couch. He gives Swansea a quick roll of his eyes and continues to concentrate on his book work. Swansea rolls his eyes in response, a small, barely noticeable wry grin on his face as he looks away.

Ever since you came into his life, acknowledged his feelings for you, the whole world seemed a whole lot better. Brighter, even. Compared to the artificial stimulation of the sunlit sky, splayed across the living room walls.

The screen was bright, but damn, you were brighter.

"Let me see that." Swansea holds out his work-worn palms, gesturing for Daisuke to give him his mechanic's handbook. He obliges, hesitantly scanning his tired face for approval. The older man points at each line of ink with the tip of lead, reading over the bubbled answers Daisuke put in.

The tension was palpable. To Daisuke, at least.

To Swansea, this was another day at work. "You got all of these wrong." He says, dragging the nub of Daisuke's pencil over each question number, voice gruff yet lenient this time around, even though by now, he would've called him out on his mistakes.

Daisuke was a good kid. He had a good head on his shoulders. Even though he acted stupid. Swansea could probably count enough times on his hands how reckless he was at his age.

Another sigh leaves his person. Swansea sets the pencil in between the pages of Daisuke's workbook and places it down on the palette-shaped coffee table.

Swansea strums his fingers against his thigh before methodically standing up, using the wooden divider that separates the conversation pit from the rest of the lobby to support his weight. "Let's take a break." he suggests, much to Daisuke's surprise.

"Wait- what? Really?" he asks, eyes widened in a mixture of shock and surprise. A part of him was relieved that he wouldn't have to stick his nose into a musty book, but another part of him was genuinely surprised that Swansea of all people was suggesting that he should take a breather.

"Fifteen minutes." He states firmly, arms crossed over his beer belly. "That's all you're gonna get outta this, kid." he tilts his head off to the side, waiting for the younger man to get up himself.

Daisuke grins at him,fifteen minutes was better than getting no minutes at all. Swansea huffs out a quiet laugh, watching as his intern makes a beeline to the kitchen, your expanse of the ship and expertise.

Just as he thought, you were there. Apron and all, cutting up fruits into little cubes.

For a guy like him, the kitchen was small. A little cramped for his size, but in a comforting sort of way. He knew you'd be here, always, waiting for him. Just like that night you shared with him weeks before.

Having three people in the kitchen definitely made it more crowded than it needed to be. Swansea's glad that you and Daisuke were chatting amongst yourselves. You, being too focused on explaining what you were making and Daisuke, too absorbed in listening along and sneakily grabbing bites of cut up fruit to slip into his hand for later. Swansea doesn't say a word.

A warm feeling in his chest as he watches the two people he cared for most on the ship talking to each other. There was a word for this feeling, wasn't there? He couldn't remember.

"Swansea, hun, can you help me with this apple?" You crane your head away from the counter top to address the man directly. Swansea almost choke. The way the nickname easily leaves your lips, like you've been married for years, even though you just recently admitted your feelings for him.

You were going to be the death of him.

Swansea smooths out the company logo on his shirt. His heart was beating wildly against his chest like a battering ram, all because you decided to call him something other than his own name. You called him hun. All you did was call him hun.

He pretends to let out an uninterested huff as he saunters over, a strong hand over the logo of his work uniform.

If Daisuke wasn't in the room with you he would've reacted much worse.

Swansea's intimidating frame looms over you. "Gimme that." He says, holding out his other hand. "The apple?" you ask, setting down your paring knife. "No sweetheart, the bowl." Swansea replies flatly, Daisuke snickers. Swansea shoots a glare at the younger man, as if to quiet him, which he instantly obliges.

With a soft chuckle, you hand him the apple. "I need this guy for the fruit salad." You explain, watching curiously as Swansea twists the stem, tossing it off into the pile of scraps you had neatly set off to the side. "You're not going to use a knife?"

"I don't need a knife." he replies, the meat of his palms digging into the apple. His calloused fingers dip into the calyx of the apple. With a twist of his wrists, Swansea cleanly splits the apple in half.

Once again, Swansea pretends that it's nothing and hands you the apple. The apple that he split in half with his bare hands.

It was his turn to make you feel all warm in the chest now. "You're welcome, by the way. Just make sure I get a bite before everyone else does, alright hun?"

Hun. Hearing Swansea call you that almost gives you a heart attack.

Swansea smiles at you like you were the only person in the kitchen with him. He walks out of the kitchen, content with your reaction. The wide-eyed look you gave him was priceless.

He sits at the kitchen table, smiling boyishly as he hears Daisuke hammering you with questions about your relationship with his superior. He'll step in eventually. But for now he'll enjoy the feeling of content in his chest.

𖦹 Unfolded | Chapter 1

★ CHARACTER ─ Timothy Wright

✦ GENRE ─ Fluff?? Idk?

★ WARNING ─ None that i could think of

✦ SUMMARY ─ Where you take a walk and accidentally leaves a few notes behind, filled with words in your heart. And a few hours later, Tim is out on a night walk and stumbles upon one of the notes.

Note: This doesn't have the x reader yet? Just an opening for a series im working on. And im just trying out a writing style

The warm sun filtered through the leaves of the trees, casting patches of dappled light across the path. The forest was your escape, the place you are comfortable in, the place where you feel 'safe'. Birds sang and chirped in the distance, their cheerful tunes filling the air. Alone, you walked through the forest, letting the tranquility of the nature around you ease your mind. Along the path, there were a variety of flowers layed on near the path; leaves scattering the ground beneath your feet, the bushes on the side of the route rustling softly in the small breeze; hair blowing in the cold breeze.

You found a small, secluded spot under a large tree and sank down into a soft patch of grass amongst some fallen leaves. The quiet of the forest around you provided a sense of tranquility, and you took a moment to appreciate the peacefulness. Leaning back against the rough bark of the tree, you took out a small notebook and pen, preparing to put your thoughts on paper.

With the notebook and pen in hand, you opened the small book and hovered the pen over the blank page. The sun's rays filtered through the trees, casting a warm, dappled light on the page. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, breathing in the clean air and savoring the calm of the area. Frustration was in your mind, without any thoughts you write just how you felt currently. Venting all your problems; all the problems about college, work, and home problems are all out on pieces of papers.

────

As the hours went by, the sun began its slow descent, casting longer shadows across the forest floor. The air around you cooled slightly, and the chirping of the birds became more distant, as if they were heading back to their nests for the night. The light faded, casting the forest in a more muted, muted light. The atmosphere became more peaceful, as the day slowly darkened.

After sitting under the tree for a while, you began to gather your things. You packed up your book and pen, and stood up to stretch a bit. Looking around the area, you noticed a few pieces of trash scattered on the ground; mostly empty packaging and wrapping. You picked up the trash and decided to dispose of it properly.

In the process of tidying up, you accidentally left a few small pieces of trash unnoticed in the grass and leaves. The small bits of trash were concealed among the surrounding leaves and grass. Unaware of what you had left behind, you picked up the rest of the larger pieces of garbage and began walking away from the tree, heading back towards the main path and went home.

It was dark. As Tim walked down the path through the quiet forest, his gaze fell upon a wrinkled piece of paper that stuck out in the grass to the side of the path. Curious, he stopped and knelt down to take a closer look at it. He picked up the paper and began to straighten it out, his eyes scanning the contents of the note. The note was creased and slightly torn, as if it had been crumpled up and discarded there in the forest. Tim's eyes flicked across the words on the paper, taking in the message left behind by an unknown person.

The message was written in a messy scrawl, but Tim could make out the words, he glided his thumb, smudging the ink. And as he read, he began to get an idea of what the note was about. What did the message say? Did it hold some meaning or a hidden message? The words on the paper seemed to be a short, bit personal message, written by someone.

Tim continued to read the note, his eyes moving over the words, trying to make sense of their content. He felt a sense of curiosity, wondering who had left the note behind and what purpose it served. The paper crackled in his hands as he held it, the only sound in the otherwise silent forest.

As Tim read the words on the note,

"In the dead of night, a soul does cry, words of anguish, bitter, with naught. Despair, a constant shadow, does follow this weary mind, frustration burns, a flame in the darkness, that cannot be denied. And still the shadows lengthen, the night does deepen, yet the troubled heart cannot find any release, any rep" His expression changed to one of confusion. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, but he certainly didn't anticipate the message.

He looked around the silent forest, as if searching for some sign or explanation, but there was nothing but the soft rustling of leaves and silence. Thinking for a few moments, Tim decided to roll up the note and put it in his pocket, planning to come back to it later. For now, he continued down the path, his mind filled with questions and curiosity.

Im not sure if I like how this turned out? Currently thinking about turning this into a series, should I?? Also, First fic btw!! hope ya guys like this (^◡^)/

DEAR FANFICTION WRITERS

Thanks for existing

stamped

© zumicho all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.

SYNOPSIS : your brother’s best friend is a travelling volleyball sensation. he sends him letters from every country he visits, & you could care less. till.. he starts addressing them to you.

PAIRING ; oikawa tooru x reader SMAU 📼

TAGS / CWS : none of the art is mine unless stated, language, sexual & kys jokes, suggestive, borderline angsty, childhood enemies to lovers *wink wink*

completed 𖦹°⋆ TAGLIST closed

♥︎ .ᐟ.ᐟ FILM BRO POSERS + IWA ; SIDE HOES

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mailbox boy — where it all started

01 . 02 . 03 . 04 . ✎ 05 . 06 . 07 . 08 .

signed sealed delivered — the end of it all

the letters : bonus

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author’s note: it’s over! sad to say this is probably the most poorly executed work on my account — but I’m keeping it up for the sake of those who hold it dear to their heart <3 thank you for reading

@wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @mimi3lover @itsdragonius @vivian-555 @blueberrygeniejam @cryptictheseus @azharyy @yuminako @iluvmang @aliensstolemyheart @ilyless @tojirin @mylahrins @gra-eae @reads-stuff-quietly @neeksnicoboytoy @elliott0o0 @nnnyxie @chizunata @girlkissersco @kiyoomis-side @scxrcherr @causenessus @eggyrocks @phoenix-eclipses @walllflowerrrsss @gsyche @acowboykisser @swag-only @serossidechick @le000xxgrd @eclecticeggknightpsychic @garfieldissocool @dazqa @venusianeros @youmake1mistake @thechaosoflonging @r0seandth0rns @empress-pug-pug @iad0ru @hyenagoated @chemiru

⋆˚࿔ HELLOO 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𖦹๋࣭⭑★ RYUUYU ─ SHE/THEY ˎˊ˗

⭑.ᐟ 19 y.o. ─ MAIN FANDOM: TWST

₊⊹ᰔ | MASTERLIST

My plan for this blog is to write fanfics, make fanarts and to have fun! But since I have a busy schedule, I will rarely be posting anything serious.. But Im most active here!!

This is just the basic DNI LIST, but please respect it. Other than that, you are Wellcome to interact anytime :)

DIVIDER CREDITS: 𖦹๋࣭⭑